Children vs time.

I was on the train and there was this spunky 5 year old who got on with her father. She had a lot of words and sat down in the handy-cap spot next to the call button. She enthusiastically asked he father questions about the button, what it did, what was written above it and why it was there. She was so lovely. He fathers response each time was sharp, bitter, snapping and mean. More often than not, he just told her to shut up. But in her wisdom, or oblivion, she continued to drown him with her inquisitiveness. Her relentlessness and resilience was both endearing and hopeful. I not sure she can keep it up till she can get away from her asshole of a father, but I hope so.

But she caught my eye because I have been thinking a lot about kids, who they become, how they change and how those changes challenge parents. When I think back to my life with D. as an infant, there were certainly "hard" parts. Sleep was challenging, and nursing, while lovely, was time consuming. Now that sleeping has recovered, and nursing is less frequent, I should have more time right? Nope. Now D-man is so mobile he takes a lot more monitoring. I think there is a curve, in a diagramatic sense, that is the relationship of the child's age to the mother's productivity. Not to say domestic labor is somehow unproductive - but I mean labor as in the money making, free-lancing, non domestic kind. I thought I would be at the "gets more done" stage when D. reached a year, but in fact I think it is still getting harder...

I am also starting to have some stress about having another - or trying to. DH has a big project going on that is taking him to a different continent about ever other month. And since bedrest and toddlers don't really jive, our original plan to TTC in March has now shifted to August. If I were your average pregnant person, with average lady parts, this would not be a biggie. But after losses, a septum resection, issues in each trimester, incompetent cervix and months in bed... well, let's just say I am a little freaked. I keep wondering if the septum is really gone? I know that is nuts. But I really want to go in for my annual and ask my OB to do a quick U/S. I just want to make sure nothing is there.

And I am also pushing 35. After you have been burned my the miscarriage bug, you take nothing for granted. The older I get, the more risk. I am not stupid enough to think, "that would never happen to me." It could. And if we wait, and I get pregnant and carry to term, I'll be delivering around my 36 birthday. Ugh.

The other part is, I hate to say this, but we would love a big family. Like, at least 3. That alone would dictate a rapid fire schedule. Uuuuhhhh. Who knows what to do. It is a mess really. So I guess we'll just wait. Despite the fact that I'd rather not. We'll wait. We'll wait. And I'll just keep telling myself that everything will be ok.

Rarely writing, but I finally had a few things to say

It has been a wild week. There were countless, significant milestones I needed to mark... Here are just a few.

1.G from Makes you stronger stunned me, and herself and the rest of the blog-o-sphere with a viable, beating little bean at this weeks scan. Holy shit. Un-fucking-believable story. If I could have one single wish this year, it is for G to get her ass knocked up... and stay that way. At least for 9 months:)
2. The little D-man turned 1! Knock my fat ass over with a feather, has a year gone by already? I miss my little lump of mush, but also love watching him grow into a little person.
3. The boy said "Mama!" Two days after his birthday he started consistently saying it. Melt-worthy.
4. I did my first, paid workshop as part of our new start up (me and 5 friends.) Feels awesome to make some money outside of the academic crap-hole I have been sucked into.

Well, I have procrastinated long enough. I have a pound cake in the shape of a choo-choo-train to make and ice. The official birthday party is tomorrow.

I'm not sure when I stopped.

It was not a decision. It just happened. Time was eaten up, and this place I had for myself, for you, lost its weight in my world. But I miss it here. Despite the face that I may be alone again. Where are you old friends?

Life is both good and busy. DH is hauling ass, working a ton. I am teaching, working on a start-up venture with friends and holding down the domestic end full-time. In other words, I and a FT-SAHM with two half-jobs. It is exhausting, but just fine. I struggle, but I have a great life and the good fortune to be able to choose either or both paths.

Motherhood is lovely and unexpectedly satisfying. I never thought I would ever entertain staying home full time - but I love it. Sometimes I feel like a big puss for that. But most of the time i couldn't give a damn what others think. My little dood will only be young once. I am greedy about my time with him.

There a big plans brewing for the next year. DH is traveling a ton (across the pond.) We hope to buy a bigger house in the spring. And we are trying to work out the details about expanding our family in the fall of 2010. It is a complicated dance - the work, the moving, the tricky pregnancy. But we'll figure it out. Nearly 4 months of bedrest and the pain of child birth have faded into the distance. I fear what bedrest will look like with a toddler running about. But I know we can do it. Not without the support of or wonderful families - but I know they are all excited to see our clan grow.

More than anything I stress about the stress - remembering those moments of hopelessness - of feeling like my body was failing so terribly. I remember the terror and fear of knowing that we could have lost him. I can only hope that if we successfully conceive again, that we'll be better prepared this time. We have a good doctor. We know how to treat my issues preventatively. We've been through it all.

I miss you blog-o-sphere. I hope you are swell.
xo

A year in pics

A year of images. You can see the many U/S images early on. Leading to what looked like a "normal" pregnancy. Then to the hospital and out again. Then comes the little boy.

Slice me up into little pieces

There are just not enough of me to go around. Mom-me, work-me, freelance-me, wife-me, friend-me, daughter-me, blog-me and on and on. This summer has been crazy, despite that it feels if I have achieved little. But that is not entirely true. The bathroom door and trim finally got painted. That has got to count for something.

But what is crazy to think about is that this time last year the shit was about to hit the fan. I was about to go into preterm labor, my cervix was shortening and none of my shithead doctors would help me. We hauled ass to a suburban hospital and were admitted straight away. I stayed there for a little over 4 weeks. Leaving my OB and heading to the burbs was the smartest thing we ever did. I am not sure if my son would be here today if we hadn't.

I have very few pictures of myself pregnant and not confined to a bed. So this is what I looked like this time last year.


Our little boy is rocking the house. Today was downright monumental.
- He started articulating da, da, da in a very purposeful and clear way.
- He started to sway a little when he heard music.
- He got a TOOTH!

I know, boring boring. But we are siked... And sad to see his grow so fast.

And then it just stopped:)

So we have been letting baby D, cry himself to sleep. I don't like it, but he stopped falling asleep after nursing a few weeks ago - at least at bedtime. His social self was just wanting stay up with us. He was accumulating a sleep deficit. No napping well and being a real crabster. Then I realized that even if I nurse him, then lay with him in bed, he still need about 5 minutes of solid cry time. So cry.it.out it is. I know bedtime routines and sleep-stuff is a generally sensitive subject. Everyone needs to do what they think is best for the temperament of their child. This is what works for us.

Then last night, it just stopped. We stayed up late to see Nonie and Pop and then put him in bed awake. He wimpered a bit, then shut his eyes! Then this morning, I nursed him down, plopped him in bed and POOF! He was asleep. Super!

Despite our good fortune, we may be about to ruin it all. Today we depart on our first flight together as a family to a time zone on the other side of the country. Not sure how we will get him adjusted to the west coast, a strange bed and the evening sounds of old friends catching up. We are on our way to see our dearest of friends and their little nursling, Mr. Finn. It promises to be a great trip, with the added bonus of meeting my dear internet friend G - live and in the flesh! Awesomesauce!

So wish us luck on two flights and a layover. I will have a darling boy attached to my b00b nearly all day. I am feeling more chill about it today than I was yesterday. The benefit of seeing old friends outweighs my anxiety:)

And a pic for the road:)

Bugger

Six months since I gave birth and my period has returned, despite exclusively breastfeeding. Bugger.

It is amazing that the sight of blood still results, initially, in complete panic. I guess it will be some time till I can look down, see blood, and not freak out.

I suspected something was going on 2 weeks ago, when I swore I felt ovulation pains. My poor digestion and irritable bowels also returned. Two days ago I started into my first extended, yet dull, headache. Doctors that don't subscribe to the effects of hormones on a woman's body are just stupid. It effects me - totally and completely. Even thought my pregnancy was a trainwreck, it did relieve me of a few things - all of which are suddenly returning. Bummer.

Well, here is to hoping that the flow will be short, light and infrequent.

Seriously siked

Last nights "cry it out" was not so bad. We established a nice routine: get changed, read 2 books, nurse, then into bed. He whaled for about 10 minutes then sacked out. This all by 7:10 pm:) He did wake twice before 8 and cry, but after that he was out. I am still trying to figure out what to do with all the extra free time!

Then this morning, he did a stellar job taking 2 crib naps in the morning and 1 in the afternoon! Huh? Its like the more he sleeps the more he wants to sleep. Rad. I hope this evening goes as smoothly, especially since I am here tooting my horn.

We are also going to start rice cereal today. Last night he helped himself to a fist full of cous cous off of DH's dinner plate. Didn't make it to his mouth, but almost. So he is officially mooching:) Very cute.

Battling to sleep

We have finally hit a wall. A bedtime wall. DH believes we coddle the boy too much. I just want a calm and soothing bedtime experience, so I attempt to keep crying to a minimum. But bedtime has become exhausting.

It started when I foolishly read a book on sleep issues - given to me by a friend. It is of the hardcore, cry it out, variety. Not really my thing. But lately, I am swaying. We try to be consistent. There are 2-3 naps a day. Ideally in the crib, but not always. They are ideally at least an hour, but not always. I nurse him, then he gets a bounce and a shhhhhhh cribside. Lately, you can put him in the crib, but he may wake right away or in the next ten minute. Repeat bounce and shhhhh, and hope for the best. It does not always work.

Then there is bedtime. We usually wait till we see eyerubbing, but I think this is actually the problem. I think by the time he is rubbing the eyes we are too late. He is over tired. He has been clusterfeeding in the 6-7 pm hour. I actually think this is his own bedtime preparation. Anyhow, what usually happens is about 7:30-8, I nurse him again, then bounce and shhhh. Sometimes he takes it, but more often now he starts to rub his eyes frantically, popping out the nuk repeatedly and then on to screaming. DH steps in and we rotate back and forth based on what our moods can stand. Last ditch effort is to lay in bed with him.

Well, tonight.... Tonight we are going to try to put him in the crib without the bounce and shhh. We made a plan so we are in alignment and not making decisions on the fly, in the thick of it. We are moving bedtime up to 7, for sure. We are establishing a calming routine for the 30-45 minutes prior. Reading, nursing, etc. Then a short bounce, then into the crib. We decided on 30 minutes of crying without going in, picking up, etc. This is going to be VERY taxing on me. But I know what we have been doing is not working. In fact, it has become a disaster, and not good for anyone. I need, very much, for bedtime to change. We are going to give it three days and see how it goes. Honestly, it can not get much worse:) Well, I suppose it could.....

If only ever nap could be like this one:

Musings on bloggyness

Oh, how life has changed. I still read all of the many blogs that I read while TTC and on bedrest, but I feel so disconnected. I want to cheer everyone on, and am continually thankful for the near 2 years of support I have been given from this community. But as a new parent, one of the ones who "succeeded," I feel like a bit of a chump. It is like being stuck between two worlds. One where I relate whole-heartedly to those on the roller-coaster, or on couch-arrest. But where I "fit," momentarily, into the fertile world. I am one of the lucky ones who conceived and birthed a child (not without many scary moments.) Yet I still feel uncomfortable when I see a pregnant woman out and about in the world. Oh, aren't you special to be pregnant and allowed to do your own grocery shopping! I make a lot of assumptions about how easy it is for other women. I know my assumptions are sometimes wrong, even cruel.

The spring has been a rude awakening. As the frost melts, I have been spending more time out in the world-- strolling the boy around the neighborhood. I have run into many an acquaintance who never even knew I was pregnant, let alone have a six month old! It feels weird to have to rehash my rocky pregnancy in a way that is palatable to someone you don't know so well. Surely, not everyone needs to know about the mechanics of my faulty cervix (ewww.) I certainly don't share what came before then. No one really wants to hear about your multiple miscarriages and your lap/hyst.

I am, in general, a shy person-- with strangers at least. It takes a lot out of me to negotiate small talk. I feel nervous and silly. Being a parent has not changed that. I know some women who have "blossomed" after having kids. Their children become a conduit through which they are more free in conversation. "We have the same stroller! Oh my gosh, I have never seen anyone with that stroller!" I don't know if it is the predictability of the conversations, or the strange personal nature of them that turns me off. Either way, I am whole-heartily disinterested in talking with strangers about my son. Yes, that is sweet and nice that someone tells me they think he is cute-- but seriously, what else would one say! Um, your baby's ears stick out funny!?! I don't have the privilege of recounting my smooth pregnancy and uncomplicated, unmedicated birth. I don't get to compare notes after running into a couple I attended birth classes with. I couldn't go to birth classes, because I was stuck in bed! My son is a person, not an accessory. He is a baby like any other. And while he is very special to me, I don't want his to grow up thinking he is the center of the universe. I want him to be part of the collective universe. I guess when it comes to him in public space, I am much more private than I thought I would be. He is not a trophy. He is a little boy.

And perhaps being outed from both camps is ok for now, because my glorious and beautiful boy takes up most of my time (phew, if feels good to brag about how marvelous he is.) But I suspect the day will come when I need to lean on this blog again. There will be questions about progesterone shots, bleeding and a cerclage. There will be musings about how to mind a toddler when you are supposed to stay in bed. At least I hope there will be. Not to say that I look forward to another complicated pregnancy. But I look forward to having another kid. If I am honest with myself, I would really like 4 or 5 (I am totally serious.) But on account of my body, 2 may be the limit. One, may actually be the limit. Who knows. I fear speculating.

I just love that I have this blog, and that I can read about everyone else's experiences too. It is just rad that this world, this place, exists for me-- and for you. So even though my posts are becoming few and far between, and won't forget how I am like you, and how you are like me. And I won't ever stop dreaming that all of you some day get what I am so amazingly fortunate to have. A child.

Oh, and the boy is sitting up! Joy!