Words of Wisdom

As a dear friend awaits the impending arrival of her twins any. day. now.... (she's made it longer than I did- Kiera made a surprise arrival at 37w and she's now at 39w3d- with twins!), we had a nice conversation that included my unbiased advice to a new mom- what words of wisdom did I NOT take to heart and wish that I would have oh, say, 15 months ago?  Well, where to start? First of all- cherish every single day even those when you are elbow deep in poo, haven't had time to shower at 3:45 p.m. and even your fourth shirt was now thrown up on.....  the both of us went through fertility to start our family, we knew what we were getting in to, but there are just 'those' days that you're not quite sure.... and they start once they tell you it's too late for an epidural!  Nothing will ever go quite as planned once you throw a little one into the mix- for planners (yes, that's you KL!) it may be enough to drive you stark raving mad, but that is exactly what you will remember most.  That night that there was nothing that made the baby happy and you had to crawl around on the floor to try to entertain them, digging out all of your safest kitchen utensils for them to use as drum sticks or chew toys.  Oh, wait- that was LAST night!

My first piece of advice is to let people help and tell them what you NEED.  The novelty of a 'new' baby (or babIES) wears off and the offers of help soon will as well.  I wish that I would have gotten just a few more days-hours, of sleep when my mom was staying with us for the few weeks after Kiera arrived.  I was worried that I would miss out on valuable bonding time, but instead, I could have gotten some much needed (and forever fleeting) rest to recover from pregnancy and delivery.   I wanted to prove to her that I would be a good mom right off the bat- rendering her feeling nearly useless and me very tired.  My stubbornness might have been part of what led to my post-partum depression and essentially was counterproductive to the bonding.  A tired, emotional and confused mommy has a hard time bonding with a stuffed animal let alone a new little baby.  So, we all know that you will be a good mom- but give your self a chance to rest- really rest because you have to save up that energy for the next 18-or-so years.....  and if your friends and family really want to help, tell them what you really want- like just an hour to take a hot bath, the floors swept and mopped or bring in a few groceries. 

Next, take lots of pictures- you will be amazed at when you look back- even after just a few months- how much they change and grow.  Jason always teases me about being a 'mamarazzi' but I'm so glad that we have all of these wonderful moments captured on film (and now video).

Also, live in the moment- don't worry about milestones- every baby will progress on their own timeline (if the pregnancy and delivery isn't any clue...) and try not to "can't wait" every one of those milestones away because some day you will look back and long for those days when you could set them on their blanket on the floor and still be there after your quick potty break instead of half-way up the stairs.  Be there for your children.  The laundry and dishes can wait until 2017- you think that you should be getting them done, but trust me, a quick little dance or game of tag is much more important.  It will be hard to fully accept this piece of advice, see above and make sure you have the camera ready....

And speaking of you- take good care of yourself.  The mom (not sayin' that the daddy isn't important) is the hub and needs to think about herself first and foremost to be the very best Mommy possible.  Mentally and physically.  Being a mom is the hardest job I've ever done.  There is no "time off" (even if you take words of wisdom #1), "sick time" or otherwise, however, there is downtime and take advantage of it- to TAKE A NAP! Make sure that there is something that you enjoy on what little "break" time you get.  A clear head makes for more enjoyable parenting.  For sure.  And this goes back to asking- no one can read your mind- let us know how we can help.  It really does take a village.

And those little "ugh" moments- they're far and few between and the first time you see a real smile or hear "mama" makes it so worthwhile.  All that lost sleep; 3:54 minutes of labor; post partum depression; poop patrol- it's also job security and the most priceless form of payment ever.   Enjoy being a mom...........

That's Gonna Leave a Mark....

See the "boo boo" above her eye??

The small one is not yet walking (well, a few little steps here and there, but then she gets this panicked look and sits down...) but holy cow, she is still ever so mobile and faster than  you can imagine.  And of course, she is testing her limits and curious about how everything works.  For example, "Even if I shake it really fast, will the kitty's tail still remain attached;" "How would this little piece of (insert random thing) taste;" "How hard can I patty-cake Mommy's head before she says 'owww'?"  You get the picture.  Keeps Daddy and I on our toes for sure, and of course, she is always so amusing.  The reactions are priceless!

Being mobile and curious also means that there are tears and cuts and bruises to go along with it.  This is a shitty part about being a Mom.... having to remain calm and collected while you are trying to soothe boo-boos and stop the bleeding.  Yep, that's fun.  And seems to come in sets.  (Her first fall from a high object happened on July 4th, followed by a spill off of the couch the next day and not a hour later: bumping her head on the tile floor (she managed to find the very small spot that wasn't covered to touch down at!).  I know I'm not the first nor last parent that it happens to, but talk about making you feel like a horrible parent!  She's no worse for the wear.....  and then this weekend we had actual injuries complete with bleeding. 

Friday night she was crawling around in her room and while trying to use the glider ottoman for support, she fell down and hit her head on the corner.  When I picked her up, there was blood above her left eye;  fortunately it was a very small abrasion but I was worried on how hard she hit and if she was going to get a shiner.  A little infant ibuprofen, a cold pack and lots of kisses must have worked wonders because, the cut is almost healed already and BabyK doesn't hardly remember what happened! (So, I'm so bad: I was secretly hoping that there would be no evidence for her Birthday on Wednesday and of course the big party next weekend!)

This morning she was up at the crack of dawn... of course on a "sleep in" day.  (I know, everyone told me that those no longer existed as a parent of young children, but a girl can hope!) I decided to be nice to Daddy and took her downstairs so that he could go back to sleep and get some rest.  We had such a nice time playing and eating a lovely waffle for breakfast.... you know that it would have to be interrupted by a boo-boo.  Kiera bumped her mouth on an edge of her high chair when she was going to sit down..... I picked her up to comfort her and a few seconds later discovered blood everywhere down the front of me, her face, clothes... "Poor Kiera, what did you do to yourself?"  I couldn't see a wound through the bleeding.  I thought about getting Jason, but decided to just handle it on my own even though a baby writhing in pain and confusion is hard to contain to comfort and 'fix.'  A few minutes later Jason came down to see what all of the commotion was about and helped me to get Kiera calmed down after some mild compression, a little "boo boo" juice and Dusty kitty to coax out a smile.  I'm assuming that she cut her gums on the down-ward fall.  Ugh. 

Both were minor incidents, but make you feel horrible none-the-less.  I'm not squeamish around blood, but the sight of it on your own child makes you feel raw and irresponsible.  Short of padding our home in bubble-wrap, there's not much that we can do to shield Kiera from minor injuries- it's a part of growing up I imagine.  My outward reaction is to remain calm, but I still feel a bit nauseous- probably from the momma-bear endorphins kicking in to help my little cub.  One thing that does make dealing with this easy is to know basic first aid and have readily available a first aid kit stocked with age-appropriate essentials in dealing with accidents and injuries.  I received some of the items as a gift at one of my baby showers and it was a wonderful gift that keeps giving even now.  I just have to go find some fun themed bandagess for it now and perhaps a bottle of rum for mommy....

A Piece of My Heart Is Gone

I've always grown up around animals- dogs, cats, rodents, horses, a turtle, you name it- fur, feathers, fangs (well, can't say that I'm very comfortable around snakes...)- our family has always had a four-legged companion of some sort- currently two dogs and two cats.  One of the dogs, Shyner was the first "all my own" doggie. I found her in 1996- she ran out in front of my car as I was coming home from the gym. I tried to find her owner, but to no avail, so I took her home and that begins the story of Shyner, our sweet 15-year old mini- Dalmatian. She has been my faithful companion for over 14 years- all of my adult life- and I can't really remember life without her in it.... and it pains my heart to say that the story has sadly ended.  My "first-born" has earned her angel wings and the loss has hit us hard.  I know that some people would scoff at the loss of an animal- especially in comparison to the devestation in Haiti from last week's earthquake- but I don't care (what they think, not about the earthquake- that's also sad).  It's been a week (hence me also being blog-absent) and although I'm not crying as much these days, having to get over this just plain sucks.


It was wonderful to have such a sweet little dog with us as long as we did; and I've known that she wouldn't be around forever (I sometimes fantasized about Kiera being able to grow up with Shyner by her side...) but I was hoping that the life or death decision wouldn't be left in my hands.  I had always hoped that she might pass away peacefully in her sleep- I can't begin to tell you when I began checking for her breathing in the middle of the night...It was just plain shitty that I had to make the absolute hardest decision in my life; and although I know that it was a very humane one, I've spent the last few days second guessing it.  Jason and I had talked about what we would do is she just wasn't the 'same' anymore, and we'd always agreed that no matter how much the thought of losing her was, we had to do what was best for our fur-baby.

Her quality of life was slowly slipping downhill: we've had to help her up and down the stairs for a few months; when we woke up with Kiera in the middle of the night, we also made sure to wake ShynShyn up and let her out to do her "business" and most recently we've had to cordon her in one of our bathrooms in case she had any mid-day 'accidents.'  But, you should have seen her when you brought home a Scooby Snack from MickeyD's... her head had no idea that it was 15.... it was her heart and hips that were aging...and she certainly still had a puppy's appetite and you best count all of your fingers after you fed her a treat!!  When she was diagnosed with an enlarged heart last April, we had discussed that we would do whatever she wanted as long as it was fair to her and that we weren't keeping her alive just to spare us from dealing with the pain of the loss.  She put up a brave front day after day and we had the privelege of having another nine months with her, even after she ate an entire bottle of her heart medicine!!!


Last Thursday I let her out before I went to bed and stood behind her as we climbed the stairs- we always had to support her backside so that she could keep the momentum- her hips were weakening and couldn't support her entire girly figure.  She huffed and puffed her way down the hall and when she got to the end of our bed, she suddenly collapsed and went limp.  I thought that she had already died, but she came to about 45 seconds later... I yelled at Jason to wake up and quickly explained to him what had happened.  We knew that we had to take her to the vet, but having a baby takes a bit more planning even with a semi-emergency.  We were able to drop Kiera off at GrandmaK's house on the way (I didn't want to have to worry about her while we were there), and then made a detour to Carl's Jr. to treat Shynie to a late nite Scooby Snack.  I was holding her on my lap and she got excited once we pulled up to the drive in window- she knew that the order was for her: one plain and dry Happy Star. 


The nearly 20 minute drive to the vet seemed to take forever (although not as long as the drive home).  I was in a fog the entire time, so Jason had to do most of the talking.  Shyner sniffed her way around the lobby while we were waiting... I was hoping that it was a sign that she was going to be okay; I knew deep down that it wasn't the case, but hoped is the optimal word here.  It was after midnite once we got there (read: extra after hours charge) and the next hour also dragged on.  They put us in a room that was not at all like normal examination rooms- a very comfy couch for us, and a blanket on the floor for our old girl. The vet came in and listened to her heart and lungs and confirmed our worst fears, without costly (that wasn't the issue) and agressive treatment, she didn't have a good prognosis.  Belive me, it had nothing to do with the cost, it was the fact that whatever treatment was done, if she survived it, would only extend her life for a few months.  Putting my loyal friend through painful procedures wasn't going to be in her best interest. 


I wrestled with whether to be in the room with Shyner at the end or not and eventually decided to stay.  I thought about Marley and Me- I remember watching it in the theatre on Christmas Day, 2008 (and very, very early in my pregnancy!) and bawling my eyes out along with 100 other patrons and thinking about Shyner.  I knew that would be us someday.... The vet was right, it was as painless as could be and Shyner drifted off, finally able to run and hop and play again and eat all of the cheeseburgers that she wants.  After one last scratch of her velvety soft ears, I put her black and white and pink polka dotted collar in my purse and we left the hospital... alone.  I knew when we left our house a few hours before that there was a 95% chance that we would not return with her, but I still held out hope.  The drive home took what seemed like hours- the empty and dark freeway was a symbol for my heart.  We picked up Kiera from Jason's mom's house (although Karen offered to keep her overnight, I wanted to have her by my side to keep my mind off of Shyner) and went home.  My head ached nearly as much as my hear from crying... I took some medicine and crawled into bed, with the little bed next to mine now empty. 


Needless to say, I didn't sleep very well and I knew that I would be worthless at work so I took a personal day.  I was relieved to have a four day weekend to mend my broken heart..... unfortunately even some retail therapy didn't work.... I was just too raw. Waking up to Kiera flashing me her sweet little smile helped a little, as did holding her tight, but it has been a long week.  Every day I've cried a little less... I thought that I would make it though Wednesday tear-free but there was a condolensce card in the mail from Shyner's regular vet- very sweet, but oh my gosh..... and even today, we got another card, this one from the emergency vet where we hugged our little Dalmatian one last time. It's taken me the entire week to write this blog entry-  it's hard to type through tears.  Shyner is the third pet that we've lost in less than a year- and although BooBoo was a hard one, this one is twice as hard.  It's been hard seeing the other pets mourn her as well- Dusty has been sleeping in her bed and Cynnie, despite the fact that we thought they weren't the best of friends, has lost her appetite, and has been moping aroudn the house for days. It's hard to explain to them what happened.... we'll all heal together.


Pretty soon we'll laugh at all of the memories of her intead of cry.  We aren't planning on getting another dog for awhile- when Kiera is older maybe... when ever that is, there will never be another Shyner.  I hope that she is happy now, wagging her tail and doing that crazy Dalamatian smile thing.  We'll miss you so much Shyner- you were the best dog ever. 

The Rainbow Bridge

inspired by a Norse legend


By the edge of a woods, at the foot of a hill,
Is a lush, green meadow where time stands still.
Where the friends of man and woman do run,
When their time on earth is over and done.
For here, between this world and the next,
Is a place where each beloved creature finds rest.
On this golden land, they wait and they play,
Till the Rainbow Bridge they cross over one day.
No more do they suffer, in pain or in sadness,
For here they are whole, their lives filled with gladness.
Their limbs are restored, their health renewed,
Their bodies have healed, with strength imbued.
They romp through the grass, without even a care,
Until one day they start, and sniff at the air.
All ears prick forward, eyes dart front and back,
Then all of a sudden, one breaks from the pack.
For just at that instant, their eyes have met;
Together again, both person and pet.
So they run to each other, these friends from long past,
The time of their parting is over at last.
The sadness they felt while they were apart,
Has turned into joy once more in each heart.
They embrace with a love that will last forever,
And then, side-by-side, they cross over… together.

The Hardest Part of Motherhood.... So Far

I really 'feel' like a mom. Not because I’ve carried and borne a child. Nor because I have laundered and folded (and also tossed into the corner) tiny little onesies and socks. Or changed poopy diapers and cleaned spit-up (for the hundredth time- already) from my shirt and surrounding furniture. Or that I clip coupons, freeze meals or browse craigslist and yard sales for good baby deals. I feel like a mom now because I have shed inevitable tears for my daughter. Not those of joy like from the first few hours after she was born, but tears of worry and sadness. I'm sure it all comes with the territory, but it doesn't mean that I have to like it!

Within the past few weeks, I’ve had several instances where being Kiera's Mommy has brought me to tears. The first were during her two-month-old shots (it might have been because I also got my flu shots at the same time) when she cried out in pain from the three needle sticks and icky crap they put in her mouth. Fortunately for us, it was short lived and Baby Kiera won’t remember it (I, on the other hand, will!). In comparison, her four-month shots were brutal. Only two needle pokes but they made her cry for nearly an hour. And it was a cry of anguish that I’ve not really heard before. 


We are very lucky parents- Kiera is a sweet natured little soul and very rarely cries for more than a few minutes- it’s usually because a) she’s hungry b) she’s tired and is fighting nappy time or c) there is something really wrong. This cry was d) none of the above.  It was a full-body sobbing, lip quivering, tears streaming down her cheeks, raspy throated wail. It didn’t even bother me that I was getting stared at by passers-by whom I sure were wondering why the hell I couldn’t shut my child up. (Hello people- I was at a doctors office- not Disneyland!) It hurt me to the core to see her like that even though I knew why she was so upset and the episode would be short lived. And it was- once she finally cried herself to sleep, she was same perky self when she woke up. She forgot; I didn’t.


Just two days later, my "mom-ness" was taken to a new level. I was doing a little last minute shopping with my own mom and called Jason to tell him that we were running late. He answered quickly and proceeded to tell me he had been in a car accident- and he had Kiera. Although he did tell me that it was relatively minor; I immediately felt sick to my stomach. I quickly found my mom and made a beeline to where he said they were. It took every ounce of will power to maintain a collected composure. All of the cars were moved to a nearby parking lot and even though there weren’t any emergency vehicles other than two police cars, I still lost it when I saw Jason. I was worried sick, physically sick over Kiera’s well being. I was worried about my husband too, but Kiera was of course my first concern.  I was worried beyond any level that I thought possible before I became a mother. Okay, so part of it was because of having to make a second claim with our insurance in a week- yes, seven days (some nice, nice-  I have another name for them that's best not written on a blog- person decided to back over the hood of my car in a parking lot and just drove away- $4,100 in damage later); and possibly having to replace the car seat of our Graco travel system; but the thought of anything happening to my daughter was sickening. About the accident: to make a long story short, an unlicensed, uninsured teenager failed to yield- or look, for that matter- while turning right on a red and sideswiped my husband; and in trying to avoid a more serious collision, he swerved and hit the SUV in the lane next to him. There were no injuries, and even the damage to the cars were minor, but it didn’t matter. Anyways, Kiera was fine- she cried because she could feel our agitation. A few hours later, she was smiling like she usually does. (On a side note: we received the police report, and the investigation has found that the red-light runner was 100% at fault- now we just have to see what our insurance company does. The damage to the car that Jason hit was a dent the size of an orange on the front quarter panel of the SUV. )

Giving Thanks

It has been a good year. It’s a true blessing to be able to say that because at this same time last year, it didn’t seem like things were going to be going in the right direction.



My first round of Clomid after months of testing had me wondering if the efforts were futile; I had a run-in, literally, with a stone post in my driveway that was pretty costly; money was tight due to a job change for Jason and the first check not coming ‘til after the first of the year; I learned that they were relocating my office and laying off a very dear co-worker and my mom and step-dad separated after 27 years of marriage. There wasn’t a lot of “Happy” in that particular holiday season. Somehow Jason and I managed to stick together and make the best of the situation, and we enjoyed the spirit of the season.


Our true gift arrived in the form of two little blue lines on a pee-stick on the morning of December 27, 2008. The test showed that we were going to finally have a family together. God bless Clomid. As far as the other stress that we were dealing with: the car was repaired rather quickly and the co-pay was generously paid by Jason’s mom; relocating to Folsom meant meeting new people and becoming even better friends with

The 23rd

23 is a memorable number for me-  the great Michael Jordan wore #23; the earth is on a 23 degree angle; "W" is the 23rd letter of the alphabet (our last name); we both contributed 23 chromosomes to our darling daughter; and one of the main reasons that I quite often play that number in roulette is that March 23rd is our wedding anniversary.  It has nothing to do with the crappy movie starring Jim Carrey- ugh- 95 minutes of my life I will never get back.  And the 23rd is now going to be remembered as the first day that I had to rejoin the working world and leave my sweet baby girl all day.  Yes, hundreds of thousands of people do it every day.

But I had no idea that it would suck so much.  Not my job, but having to not be with Kiera all day.  I tried my best to not make it harder and counted down the minutes (not usually a clockwatcher!) until I got to leave and rush home to pick her up.  I held out as long as I could (early afternoon) to call and check on her; Jason didn't- he called in the morning.  The morning exit strategy is as painless for me as I could hope as Jason is dropping Kiera off at his mom's house this week.  That means that I'm still too busy getting ready so the sendoff is quick and without much fanfare.  I still cried....


Don't get me wrong- I'm thrilled that little Kiera is in such great hands for daycare during the upcoming weeks by spending time with all of her grandparents- how lucky is that?  But still, I'm totally jealous as I WANT to be with her.  (Do you think I can sneak her into the office discreetly tucked into my favorite Coach bag???)   I know that it is much harder for me than it is for her.  As long as she is fed her moo-juice and is being pampered (literally!) she's a happy camper.  Me, on the other hand is at work, wishing that I could change the Pampers.  In the early weeks, I couldn't wait to go back to work; and in all honesty I have to say that it is nice to get up, get dressed and go to work and feel accomplished.  But I miss that angelic little face smiling at me all day- I miss feeling needed by this incredible little person.  Such conflict! 

I know that it will get better and the three of us will adapt to a little routine and our lives will settle into some pattern of normalcy.  I'm looking forward to seeing what those normal days look like, but that certainly won't be until after we get through the holidays, I'm sure!  Now I just look forward to 4 o'clock-  when I can go home and see my baby girl.  She is a great reason to work and to have the opportunity to spoil her to no end.  She is my reason for everything.


At least I had a nice little surprise waiting for me when I got back:

(Thanks Erika!!!)   ( :

Exactly What Did I Think Motherhood Was Going to Be Like???

It's 12:27 a.m. and I am sitting here staring at Kiera Mckenzie: she is just an angel sprawled out next to me, seemingly without a care in the world (except perhaps formula?).  I want to pick her up and smother her little face with kisses, but fear waking her as she wasn't a happy camper when she went to sleep.  (Tell me, what exactly DOES a 6 week old baby have to be upset about???) 

She has been in our lives for just 40 days; and in our hearts for five years; yet I STILL can't believe that she is mine.  Sometimes I am brought to tears looking at her- happy ones of course.  My life as I once knew it has been turned upside down, and will never ever be the same- from sleep-deprived (well, not entirely, but definately less than I was used to) nights; taking 30 minutes just to get out of the house to go to the grocery store; doing most things with one hand; and having worry fill every minute of your day.  The shift has taken some getting used to, but I don't mind!  

Maternalistic feelings are supposed to be an innate quality of most average women; I've been a 'fur-mom' to pets most of my adult life and am used to the responsibility of taking care of them, but oh my gosh, NOTHING can prepare you for THIS. I guess I really didn't think much about what being a parent was going to be like during my pregnancy.  I thought about diapers and formula, school plays, cute little outfits (read: never ending laundry!), nursery colors, but not the real nuts and bolts that really can't be described in a book or on a website.  It's a potpourri of mixed emotions and such: challenging yet rewarding; fun yet hard work; happy and sad.  The emotions have been the hardest thing to deal with.  For as much as I was excited to welcome Baby Kiera to our family, the guilt over the not-so-great emotions have been hard.

From the beginning, it was love at first site: I couldn't stop smiling the first 72 hours after having the baby.  It was once the initial euphoria wore off that it got hard- I'm hearing/ reading that this is completely normal.    We're so lucky to have a very, very good baby; but even so it has been a tiresome experience and there were quite a few times (mainly as a very frustrated mommy at 3 a.m with a fussy little girl in my lap) I was thinking, "What the heck am I doing? What did I get myself into?  How can I be thinking this after trying so many years to have a baby?"  And then Kiera looks up at me with her soulful little blue eyes and it melts my heart; and I take a deep breath and put the pacy back in her mouth (or is it mine?)!  I know that I would walk to the ends of the earth for my daughter (that's still weird to hear coming out of my mouth- I have a daughter!).  Our bond is growing stronger each day, and I relish her waking moments to see her personality beginning to form. 

She is very mellow and peaceful and generally doesn't get upset unless she hasn't hit the bottle in the last five minutes (this kid can EAT!) or is overly tired.  (That's like Mommy- I get grumpy when I am really tired or really hungry!)  She also loves, loves, loves her baths as well as the little massages and cuddles she gets at the end when she's all wrapped up in a cutesy little robe.  It also seems as if she is a sports fan: she loves to watch football and baseball- I think I heard a very faint "touchdown!" coming out of her mouth??  As long is it wasn't one of the OTHER words Daddy says when he watches sports!  Kiera also likes music, gazing at faces on the big screen TV and also loves to look at herself in her little baby mirrors.  I think that she might be a social butterfly too- recently she has taken up 'talking' to us from her bassinet- she lets out a little cry that sounds like she's saying, "Heeeey!"  It's super cute!  My only concern is that she is a 'morning person,' while I am not- that means that Daddy is going to get the morning shifts... but I do make my best effort to be "there" and in the moment for her if she wants to play!

It took a few weeks for it to click that it's an honor and privelidge to care for this little one-  this emotion and bond did NOT come instantly- amazingly enough this revelation came at one of the 3 a.m. feedings!  I wasn't comfortable at first, (I still feel like I am going to break or drop her!) but I'm finally settling into motherhood (it's helped that the hormones have settled down as well!) and with Jason, our little family is adjusting very well. I'm still dealing with some postpartum "baby blues" that range on the scale every day (if I get out of the house, I definately feel better) along with trying not to feel like I have to accomplish 30 chores everyday, and wanting to feel like I need to go to work to contribute to our household.  (I give you stay-at-home Moms props- this is a HARD job!)  I know that I will look back on this time in a few years (probably months) and wish that I would have relished them more.  For right now, I am just need to accept that I won't get downstairs to eat breakfast by noon (unless Jasons' home!) and that it's okay to have feelings all across the board.. good and bad.  I'm going to my first post-partum support group tomorrow, and I've recently met some people from local Mommy's groups that I will be joining, time permitting!  My main goal is to get through each day with a blissful baby that knows that she is loved down to her teeny tiny toes and of course to at least have taken a shower by noon!