Maternity leave

Dear Emi,
My maternity leave started off with a bang - and a shopping spree the likes of which your father may never recover. It was likely we'd have to cancel my last two showers, and we still needed all kinds of gear and doodads before we could bring you home. So while Pau Pau and 'Jiichan were hard at work cleaning our house, Daddy was pushing a cart through the local baby store blissfully listening to his iTouch as I frantically threw things into the basket. An hour and $374 later, we had all the necessities - diapers, bottles, microwave steam sterilizer, bottle warmer, portacrib, mittens and nursing bra. (Daddy was slightly less tranquil after the clerk rang everything up.)

I also picked up your homecoming outfit - a beautiful, footed pajama set by Kissy Kissy, delicately embroidered with tiny flowers and a pink, crocheted trim. I expected resistance from your daddy. Ever since I'd seen a similar outfit at an overpriced, but adorable, baby boutique in San Francisco, he'd been questioning why you had to have a special, i.e. expensive, outfit just to go home from the hospital. "It's not like she's going to remember what she wore," he'd say.

"It will be the very first thing Emiko wears in her life," I'd answer firmly, thinking about the blanket from Paris. "It has to be extra special."

Surprisingly, however, he didn't say a word while I rummaged through the clothing rack in search of the pj's in a newborn size. He even helped me find the matching hat. It was the perfect outfit to bring you home from the hospital. I couldn't wait to see you in it.

Back at home, Pau Pau and 'Jiichan were scrubbing the stove top, cleaning our toaster oven and washing down the cupboards. I hadn't been able to do any deep cleaning for a while. Even washing dishes wore me out and gave me a back ache from leaning forward over my belly. So when your grandparents offered to help clean, I decided to take them up on it, especially since I'd only have a week off before you arrived. Time was of the essence.

Daddy & I came home with sandwiches and salads from a neighborhood Italian deli, and we took a break for lunch. Afterwards, I started sorting all your clothes and doing your laundry, while Daddy took a restless Chase for a much-needed walk. I couldn't get over how many clothes you had! In addition to all the gorgeous things we received as gifts, my co-worker had given us two diaper boxes full of darling outfits. Another teacher at your daddy's school had a baby girl in July, who'd already outgrown a lot of her clothes, so he passed them along to us with a lovely note from his wife.

I ended up doing four, full loads of onesies, socks, mittens, pajamas, sleeping sacques, pants, shirts, undershirts, blankets, towels, burp clothes, bibs, wash clothes and bedding. I marveled at the tiny, little socks, fretting over how I would ever keep track of them. But most of all, I couldn't get over how much laundry there was - and that was just the newborn through 3 months sizes! I figured you could wear three different outfits a day and still not go through everything.

Folding all your freshly-laundered clothes that night proved a frustrating experience. I couldn't figure out how to sort everything. Should the short-sleeved onesies be kept separate from the long-sleeved ones? Is the onesie with the ducks an undershirt, or was it appropriate for going out? Then there were all the little pants. Should I pair them with their matching shirts? Better yet, could I match them up with the right tops? Was there a chapter on how to categorize baby clothes in What to Expect the First Year?

Overwhelmed, I left the last load unfolded in a basket and went to bed.

The next day was spent relaxing, blogging, and folding more laundry. I managed to take a nap and when I woke up I had a painful cramp in my lower belly that seemed to wrap around to the small of my back. I panicked at the thought that I might be going into labor - there was still so much to do! Gradually, the pain faded and never reappeared.

Monday morning I woke early for my doctor's appointment, which went very smoothly. You were very active that day and Dr. Chan was pleased with the fetal monitoring results. He reiterated that he'd check my cervix on Thursday to see if I was ready to be induced, so I knew it would either happen in three days, or possibly the following Monday.

I found out when the nurse did her usual routine that I gained 2 pounds since my last appointment three days ago, which was actually a good sign because I'd actually lost a pound-and-a-half the previous week. While most women gain an average of 25 to 30 pounds during pregnancy, as of Monday I was two pounds heavier than the day I got pregnant.

Bizarrely, I couldn't seem to gain weight during my pregnancy, although I'd never had any trouble putting on the pounds before. I'd had a bout of food poisoning just before I got pregnant, followed by two terrible colds, so my appetite had waned quite a bit and morning sickness didn't improve it. Later, I was really good about eating healthy, conscious of the fact that everything I ate affected you and how you'd grow in my womb. I ate soybeans for the protein and antioxidants that would help the development of your brain, orange juice for the folic acid and calcium, and I completely cut out caffeine two months before you were conceived because I'd read about a study that supposedly showed women who had more than two cups of coffee a day had an increased incidence of miscarriage.

I was also obsessed with making you smart, so nearly every day that summer Daddy & I walked a mile around the park because exercise was also supposed to help brain development. I even took water aerobics classes at the neighborhood pool. But I was always careful to keep my heart rate low since I didn't want to burn calories, only stimulate blood flow and keep muscles tone.

Once I hit my third trimester, however, the walks in the park became harder and harder as my belly became unwieldy. I often had to ask your daddy to slow down, and soon the half-hour walk stretched to 45 minutes. At the same time, my appetite seemed to grow exponentially. I was frequently hungry by the time I got to work, even though I'd eaten a bowl of cereal for breakfast and then of course, there were the midnight meals.

Yesterday, my second official day of maternity leave, I decided I had to prepare a few meals ahead of time so when you were born we wouldn't have to worry about food. After a trip to the grocery store, I cooked up some homemade chili, then a batch of craving-inspired chocolate chip cookies. I'd been wondering when my nesting instinct would kick in, and as I bit into a nut-filled cookie I started to wonder if my way of nesting was to cook.

Later that night, I had a burst of energy and began tidying your room, finally putting away all that laundry and compiling a list of things to do the next day, including another trip to the baby store. When I woke shortly after midnight, I put together the drawer for your crib and straightened up the kitchen before spending hours blogging on my laptop.

"I think you're going a little kooky," Daddy said lovingly.