So after Amy was finally born, I spent three glorious days in the hospital. They catered to me and I loved it - and needed it, because my little 9 lb 7 oz. caused quite a ruckus with my body. The day after Amy was born, every square inch of my body was sore. I felt like a truck had hit me! A little red-headed one.
The day after Amy was born, Mercy Hospital in Mason City served us (Paul and me the happy parents) a nice steak dinner with a little bottle of champagne to celebrate. That was sweet. Paul was so anxious to get back down to the hospital to see his little pride and joy. And me too!
Amy was born on Monday October 14, 1985 and my Mom came on Wednesday, prior to our going home on Thursday. She stopped at the hospital on her way to Osage, and I happened to be walking through the hall with Amy in my arms as she walked up the hall. I naturally walked towards her to show her the lil bundle when a nurse shrieked "no". Evidently Mom was "unclean" and not supposed to touch the baby. So she had to be content to look at her through the nursery window.
On Thursday we wedged Amy into the car seat and headed off towards home - some 30 minutes away. She was in the back seat, and at one point she cried - one of those tiny baby cries where they sound like a cat or something. Argh! Did I mention I don't no nothing about birthin' babies - or taking care of them afterwards?
Good thing my buddy Vic had her baby girl in February, so I'd gotten advice from her and my sis Susi who popped out niece Leslie in July of 1984. But that was the extent of my baby knowledge. Man I spent a lot of time studying the books - Dr. Spock and the little magazine the hospital sent me home with. Kind of a baby instruction manual.
Amy was pretty easy to take care of - but harder than a cat or a dog - things I was used to dealing with. She was big and quickly began to eat more than my poor breastes (as Donnie calls them) could supply. And at first she frequently would spit up - not just a bit down her shirt. All over the wall!
Mom was quite helpful with food, laundry etc. But she was also pretty worthless with baby - when it came to what to do, when anyway. It'd been a while since 'ol Pat had infants around. At least she didn't urge me to "feed the baby some solids" like Vic's In-Laws did constantly! I quickly learned that once baby ate, she usually got busy in the diaper department - if you know what I mean. Paul and I called it "Mu Goo Guy Pan" like the Chinese dish. It sucked when I'd feed her during the night, and she would get all relaxed and sleepy, and then - oops, time to change the diaper and she'd be all awake again. And when she was sitting on my lap and would begin to make very unladylike noises, which sounded like they were coming from me!
Amy loved her pacifier - or Binky as we called it. It relaxed her. We didn't put her in bed with it, and were lucky when a few months later our daycare provider broke her of it all together so she wasn't one of those 3 year olds taking out the Binky to call out orders to the parents.
That first year was one of constant change. Once we would get used to something, she would grow up some more. We were lucky Amy slept through the night at age 5 weeks. We would put her to bed at 7 PM and eat supper. Sure, she got up at 5 a.m., but I could live with that! I got to watch that religion show with Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker (before the divorce), cuz it was on right before Looney Tunes - my fave cartoon. Aw I was (and am still) a kid myself!
The day after Amy was born, Mercy Hospital in Mason City served us (Paul and me the happy parents) a nice steak dinner with a little bottle of champagne to celebrate. That was sweet. Paul was so anxious to get back down to the hospital to see his little pride and joy. And me too!
Amy was born on Monday October 14, 1985 and my Mom came on Wednesday, prior to our going home on Thursday. She stopped at the hospital on her way to Osage, and I happened to be walking through the hall with Amy in my arms as she walked up the hall. I naturally walked towards her to show her the lil bundle when a nurse shrieked "no". Evidently Mom was "unclean" and not supposed to touch the baby. So she had to be content to look at her through the nursery window.
On Thursday we wedged Amy into the car seat and headed off towards home - some 30 minutes away. She was in the back seat, and at one point she cried - one of those tiny baby cries where they sound like a cat or something. Argh! Did I mention I don't no nothing about birthin' babies - or taking care of them afterwards?
Good thing my buddy Vic had her baby girl in February, so I'd gotten advice from her and my sis Susi who popped out niece Leslie in July of 1984. But that was the extent of my baby knowledge. Man I spent a lot of time studying the books - Dr. Spock and the little magazine the hospital sent me home with. Kind of a baby instruction manual.
Amy was pretty easy to take care of - but harder than a cat or a dog - things I was used to dealing with. She was big and quickly began to eat more than my poor breastes (as Donnie calls them) could supply. And at first she frequently would spit up - not just a bit down her shirt. All over the wall!
Mom was quite helpful with food, laundry etc. But she was also pretty worthless with baby - when it came to what to do, when anyway. It'd been a while since 'ol Pat had infants around. At least she didn't urge me to "feed the baby some solids" like Vic's In-Laws did constantly! I quickly learned that once baby ate, she usually got busy in the diaper department - if you know what I mean. Paul and I called it "Mu Goo Guy Pan" like the Chinese dish. It sucked when I'd feed her during the night, and she would get all relaxed and sleepy, and then - oops, time to change the diaper and she'd be all awake again. And when she was sitting on my lap and would begin to make very unladylike noises, which sounded like they were coming from me!
Amy loved her pacifier - or Binky as we called it. It relaxed her. We didn't put her in bed with it, and were lucky when a few months later our daycare provider broke her of it all together so she wasn't one of those 3 year olds taking out the Binky to call out orders to the parents.
That first year was one of constant change. Once we would get used to something, she would grow up some more. We were lucky Amy slept through the night at age 5 weeks. We would put her to bed at 7 PM and eat supper. Sure, she got up at 5 a.m., but I could live with that! I got to watch that religion show with Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker (before the divorce), cuz it was on right before Looney Tunes - my fave cartoon. Aw I was (and am still) a kid myself!
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Remember the book with the binkies on the balloons?
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