Aria

Aria was my introduction into how much of a functioning zombie I could be. Her birth started my career as a stay-at-home-mom, so I was with her all day, then stayed up with her at night because my husband had to work. In between recovering from my c-section, taking classes, and trying to help my husband adjust back to life in the states, it was a mess. I could barely move and when I could it was basically to do laundry, feed someone or take care of someone's bathroom needs.

I thought I was so prepared for her to arrive, which was my first fail. She came early so her crib wasn't ready. I was refurbishing my baby crib that my uncle built for me when I was little, but I couldn't handle the chemicals while I was pregnant. My husband was going to help me when he got home, but alas, because I was induced, he arrived home on the bus and was promptly ushered to the Naval Hospital by my parents so he could see us. I felt so bad for him... not only did he miss the birth of our daughter, we were still basically newlyweds because he left a month after we got married and here he comes home to his still new wife and a baby. He was still in his gross uniform, he hadn't slept in 36 hours, and here people are telling him this small creature was his. He was afraid to hold her.

No matter how much you read, you can never be prepared for a breastfed baby's poop issues. Not only is it a weird color, it tends to be a little watery and diapers EXPLODE. It took us about a week to cover the couch in a sheet so we didn't have to keep cleaning the poop off of it. Even then, there was an endless amount of laundry constantly going through the washer.

To be continued...