One Night in New York

Chapter Twenty-Two

What's in a name? No, I'm not quoting William Shakespeare; I'm simply asking an open-ended question. Your roots, where you came from with a strong special meaning, are my answer to that question. A name is something that is given to you at birth and becomes a part of who you are. Whether your parents named you Petunia or Cosmo, it's always something meaningful to your parents or something they once treasured. What or who were we most attached to? Liam's mother and my best friend, I believe, everyone already knew the answer.

So, how did everyone fare during the big reveal? As we said her name for the first time, everyone in the room burst into tears. They all respected our wishes not to be overly sentimental, spending the next few hours adoring Connie. We had a nice quiet meal together, with Connie in her bassinet nearby. I kept checking on her every five minutes, being the helicopter mom I expected to be. Our visitors stayed for dinner and then left, leaving Liam and me alone with the baby.

Thomas decided to stay with Andrew for a few weeks to help us adjust to having a new baby. Andrew's offer of his home came as a pleasant surprise, as we were looking forward to some one-on-one time with each other and our tiny nugget.

But I was starting to think I was being far too hopeful. See, when I started having Connie stay in my hospital room, she slept a lot. I expected to be a lucky first-time mommy whose baby fell asleep quickly. I couldn't have been more mistaken on that one.

She must have been sleeping so hard at the hospital from all of the drugs pumped into my body, or so I assumed, but when we got home, that little girl discovered she had lungs and wanted to show them off right away. The crying, feeding, peeing and pooping, spitting up, and more crying were not all part of the new mommy manual. Or was it? Oh, and did I mention my boobs hurt and leaked whenever she cried or Liam and I talked about her? I believe I missed that section in the book as well. That was not a good feeling or appearance, but I accepted it as part of the beautiful thing we call motherhood.

The following weeks were mostly a blur. I do recall tripping over or bumping into a lot of things. No, not with a baby in my arms. Like when I was rushing to the bathroom or kitchen to make myself something to eat. I couldn't tell if my lack of coordination was due to exhaustion or if I was just naturally clumsy. Liam chose the latter, but I explained that it was due to a lack of sleep.

How did Liam handle all of the crying and sleepless nights? That man could sleep through anything, and when I said anything, I meant anything. I decided to hold Connie by his ear while he slept just for amusement. And did he make a move? Not even an inch. How could anyone sleep through something like that? I would jump up when she passed gas. I couldn't figure it out. He told me the next time I wanted to wake him up to shake him, but I thought, yeah, that's not going to work either. I just let it go, knowing I was never going to win that one. I decided that I would be the parent who would always wake up with her. That was fine with me. Liam provided for our entire family, so it was the least I could do to be fair. He was good about letting me sleep for about five hours a day while he looked after Connie. So at least not all of my sleep was lost.

Did I miss the single, exciting life? Naturally, I did; who wouldn't? I could sleep whenever I wanted, with no engorged boobs or unnecessary crying; with me, not the baby. I went to the bars, hung out with my friends, and didn't have to deal with a screaming child. But, to be honest, I wouldn't change a thing. It was fun to party and live it up, but having your child in your arms was worth it all. And with everything going on, it's not like we could go out and party anyway, so everyone was in the same boat as me, well not exactly the same, if they weren't a new parent. But I wasn't alone, and I always knew I'd have the best partner to share the experience with.

Soon, August arrived, and Connie changed dramatically. She began to become more aware and responsive. She appeared to be becoming more cognizant of sounds. Liam and I both noticed that we were talking to her in ridiculously high baby voices, which seemed to scare her, so we stopped. I wasn't aiming to frighten my baby, just get her to focus on her rattle or on us and smile. It was entertaining to watch her discover her hands. She'd try and try but couldn't quite get them in her mouth. The various milestones we got to witness within the first month of her life were incredible, and of course, I documented every single one.

Well, more than every single one and Liam thought I had gone overboard. "Seriously, Nat, you take pictures of her 24/7 and then print them. Do you realize you have an album full, and she just turned a month old? You have to slow down, babe, or we will have no space for all of them if you keep up with that pace."

I just pouted at Liam, "But it's not that many, look," I said as I flipped through the first full album. "Natalie, I could flip the pages quickly, and it would turn into a movie," Liam jokingly said to me. I pouted once more because I knew it was true. Okay, I was a little obsessed with my child, but completing an album in thirty days isn't so bad, is it? I was having a great time documenting every significant event in my baby's life. Isn't that something every mother does?

I decided to cut back on my photography and only take about five pictures per day instead of ten to twenty. It was a step forward, and Liam seemed to dismiss the topic. So, where did we go from there? For one thing, I wanted two more children. Liam was content with the one, but I knew he'd change his mind. He had changed his mind about falling in love, so it wasn't out of the question, and I was hoping for a large family.

The first month of her life went by quickly. If that was any indication of how quickly the rest of the time would pass, I didn't want it to be over. But first, let's address the sleep issue. It's strange how, after having her first child, a mother walks around in a zombie-like state, crying because she believes the sleepless nights will never end. Then, when they sleep for more than four hours for the first time, she wakes up in a panic, wondering why they didn't wake up. That was me when Connie slept for four hours straight one night when she was barely a month old. I panicked, thinking something was wrong, but nothing was wrong. I was an overly paranoid first-time mother, convinced that something had happened.

I was waking up every two hours to feed her when she was first born, so four hours seemed excessive. The second night she had slept for more than four hours, I awoke and nudged Liam awake, "Liam, babe, wake up."

Amazingly he woke up pretty quickly, "What, Nat?" He said with a groggy voice.

"Seriously? I put a screaming baby by you, and you sleep through it and wake up when I lightly shake you?" I was a little irritated, but his response was too funny to stay mad at him.

"What, babe? She feeds from you. What am I supposed to do? Lay her on your boob while you are sleeping so she can eat?" Liam began to chuckle after he said that to me.

I couldn't help but laugh as he had a point with that one. I had no rebuttal for his well-thought-out answer. "You're lucky that I love you. Otherwise, I would shove you off the bed where you lay."

"You would never do that. You love me too much," Liam said while yawning.

"OK, but seriously, babe. I'm kind of concerned," I continued. Liam shot up as he thought there was something wrong with Connie, "Why? What's going on," he quickly asked.

"Connie is a little over a month old, I get that, but why is she sleeping so much, Liam? What if she is hungry and doesn't wake up, is that bad?" Liam looked at me, perplexed, seeming annoyed that I disturbed him from his deep slumber.

"Nat, I really thought something was wrong. Is that what you're worried about? She's a growing baby. She'll get more than two hours of sleep on occasion. You should go to bed, dear." He finished his statement by hitting me in the face with a pillow. Not a hard hit, as if he was trying to hurt me, but a light tap with my feather pillow.

I kindly responded by yanking the pillow out from under his head and hitting him. But mine was a little harder, which led to foreplay, which led to, well, you know. What can I say? We were in love. We had an air about us that I couldn't put my finger on. The rest of the evening was spent cuddling together as I finally let go of my worry, drifting off into a dreamy sleep.

That was only about thirty minutes. No, not the sex; that was about ten. And that was ok because it had been a long time. It was my sleep that lasted only thirty minutes. Fortunately, Liam was awake, and I had pumped earlier that day. I handed Connie to Liam, dashed to the kitchen to heat a bottle, and handed it to him to feed the baby. Did I stay up with him? That is an unequivocal no. I rolled over and went to sleep, leaving Liam to sit there and tend to the baby. Oh, yes, victory was mine.