Watching myself put on forty pounds (of slushies, Edwin's brownies, and Bugles), I knew that my baby was going to be a nine-pounder. I just knew it. This idea wasn't solely my own, though; people I ran into pronounced that I was "all belly" (a term which, in my case, meant that I looked like an orange with toothpicks for arms and legs) and said that my baby was going to be big and long.
She was neither. She was just under seven pounds and only nineteen inches long, although most of her weight and length seemed to be in her huge head (a term which, in my case, meant that I pushed for three hours). Ella wasn't even what you would call a voracious eater at first, she was eating only a little over what they wanted for newborns. But when we brought her home, all this changed... *cue ominous music* Our delicate, ladylike little girl morphed into a slobbering, gulping creature, who would cry every hour on the hour as if I hadn't just fed her six ounces. I think our neighbors were convinced we were starving her. It was as if Ella finally felt free to show her true self in the comfort of her home. Ten weeks later, my little princess has turned into a much cuter, female version of the Hulk. Thirteen pounds, twenty-five inches long. Already can wear some six month clothing.
My dad recently came over to visit Ella and we got some great pictures. On the left is Ella at four days old, on the right is Ella at ten weeks.
Lastly, I'll include a picture which I have cried over every night since taking it. Everyone says "time goes by quickly," but I never realized how true that was until I saw this picture of Ella's sleepers. When my dad was leaving after his visit, he turned to Edwin and I with tears in his eyes and told us to value every second we had with her like this. I remind myself of this when she's fussy or wakes me up at three in the morning, because now I realize that, in the future, there will be days when I will give anything for her to be ten weeks old again.
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