“Beginnings are usually scary, and endings are usually sad, but its everything in between that makes it all worth living.”

Just some things I want to remember

 

Best times worst times

Tomorrow will mark one year since you joined us and I can't believe it. I now know what they mean by this being the longest shortest time of your life. I read a message board thread on babycenter the other day where all the mommas of February babies are reflecting on their first years with an essay that's structured like this: 

- My worst times

- my best times 

- & what I hope I'll never forget. 

So I thought I'd give it a shot. 

My worst times:

Around week seven, while I was still home alone with you on maternity leave, you went through a bout of crying incessantly during the days. I tried everything I knew and nothing would stop you. I had no idea what to do to make it better for you and I felt like a total failure. For a while I thought for sure that you hated me. 

This was also around the time we had to have a procedure done to your little mouth so that you could nurse properly. That fifteen minutes while the doctors worked on you were the longest in my life. Your daddy and I sat in another room and I cried the entire time while you cried. But I'm so glad we did it for you, because you're doing great today. 

Also, for a short while right after I went back to work we had a nanny who wasn't very nice to you. She was not very loving and I know that you sensed it. Those weeks were awful and stressful. I remember how forlorn you looked when I picked you up after work each day because you had hardly slept. Working with, and firing that nanny was awful. 

Conversely, some of the best times for me were:

When Silvia came to take care of you right after that. She was like a night and day difference from the first lady. Even though you rarely left the house, you and Silvia had a ton of fun together and every day was a party. We were all so much happier and relieved and well rested. And then Mayra came and we felt just as good. Mayra is like an angel put on earth to take care of babies. We are so happy to have her. I feel great that you're with her every day. 

Some of my other best moments:

Looking at you in the hospital in those first days and knowing that you were perfectly healthy and robust. I was so relieved to know that you were off to a great start.

When we first discovered that we can make you have a deep belly laugh by tickling you or surprising you. 

When we took you for your first swim in a hotel pool and you loved it and you kicked your little flippers just like you were a natural swimmer. 

I was so happy to hear you say "dada" for the first time. You had already said mama but I knew that your dad deserved this so much, because he's been amazing with you and the two of you are so great together.  It made him so happy when you said it so clearly and matter of fact-ly. 

It also felt great to me when, at almost 11 months, I took you to the doctor on my own (usually daddy is with us). The two of us sat together side by side on the bench in the waiting room and watched Monsters Inc, and you played with the strap of my wallet and watched the tv and other people in the waiting room, just as if we were two buddies. It felt to me like the first of many times I will be out and about with my little friend as a big boy, rather than an infant. And I think of all the times I'll get to hang out and do things with you in the years ahead. And how they might seem like nothing but they really are pretty great little moments. 

What I hope I never forget:

I hope I never forget the feeling when you hold my hand by wrapping all five of your soft little fingers around my one index finger.  When you do this when I get home from a long day of work and being away from you, I can feel happiness flooding my core and recharging me. 

I never want to forget how angelic and perfect you look when you sleep, with your rosy little cheeks and dark eyelashes, despite your sweaty little head in the crook of my arm. 

Or the sounds you make when you screech or squeal with delight because something excites you. 

Or the way, when you do something that you're proud of, you look around for me with a big smile to make sure I'm seeing it too. That's really cute. 

I never want to forget the way it feels to be able to pick you up and hold your whole little body against me when we hug or when we dance, or when you need comforting. As you grow I will always wish to be able to wrap myself around you entirely to keep you warm or safe, or just to absorb your sweetness. 

I never want to forget the way you made our lives so much more full when you arrived. I don't think I will. 

Dear Internet, 

I love you but I hate you. You are keeping me from the things I love. I hereby resolve to see less of you in 2015.

Sincerely 

Post partum hair

I'm tired of it. While accepting the fact that I have about 50% less than whats normal (for me) on my head, and admitting that it's nice that it dries faster after a shower, I'm over it. Looking forward to eventually having a hairstyle again. Maybe by spring. For now it's indefinitely in a bun with the new little whispies plastered down with wax. Sigh.   At least this way it's also safe from tiny grabby fingers. 

My best friend at work just signed off of IM for the last time. She's going to a new job.  I don't know who to tell about it, so I'll tell you, blogger. 

Sigh.

There will be happier times here.

My life

They say it will get better. 

The baby is here. Writing about the birth seems like a daunting task so I've been putting it off.  And the longer I put it off the further behind I get in writing about everything else.  How about this: I can tell you the birth was not fun. It was actually a nice experience for the first 12 hours but then things became kind of awful at the end and the result was a c section. And recovery from that made for a terrible and scary (in terms of mental health) first couple weeks. But I made it through with a ton of selfless around the clock support from zach and my mom. I would've cracked without them.  Maybe I'll be able to write more about it some day.  Until then, I'm happy with the end result. We have a perfect, healthy little dude. I'm recovering. I'm grateful for modern medicine. And I'm happy I'd already made up my mind to adopt #2 before we went into this. 

That said, baby!

This morning I caught the dog keeping watch over him while I was getting dressed and it melted my heart.

letter to baby

Ok.  Every day is a little different. I'm coming to terms with all this. Feeling more like I'm ready.  I know everything is gonna be okay.  I just wrote a letter to send to baby at his email address.  I've been slacking on that.  I should be sending him some more pictures before it's all out of date.  Anyway, here's what I have to say to baby today. I haven't sent it yet. But I'm not sure why not. I mean my whole objective here is to talk to him like a person and let him see me as a person. Why does that already feel so weird?  I have so much to learn and get used to.

Dear Lenny,

Today is Tuesday February 18, 2014.  Gosh, I've been so wrapped up in my own physical pain and discomfort these last few days (being 9 months preggo is hard) that it hasn't really hit me that you're almost here. Like, you're really happening. And you are a real person. A real person who I am going to be responsible for for the rest of my life. You are gonna have your own feelings, and you'll be able to feel physical pain and discomfort. And you can be put in danger. And it's gonna be up to me to keep you safe and happy for as long as I can.

It freaks me out, buddy. I really am worried about how I'll do. At first I will probably fumble. I'll be kind of a wreck at calming you and meeting your needs. I won't know how to hold you right or how to give you a bath or get your little clothes on. But we'll get over all these initial things. And you won't remember them, so it's kind of okay. I just need to be very sure I keep you from getting hurt. That part will be important.

But then as you get older, and I'm gonna be responsible for keeping your world together. Making sure you get to where you need to be with all the things you need to have with you. And with clean clothes and a full belly. And an understanding about why and where you're going. 

I hope that I can be a good mom. I hope that I can be present for you and listen to you and make sure I try my best to help you feel heard and make sure you understand things.

I hope that I can maintain my own independence at the same time, so that you see me and your daddy as individual people who do things for you not because we have to, but because we want to. Because we love you. 

I hope that you like us. I hope we enjoy each other's company. Because life is so much better when you get along with the people you spend so much time with. I hope we can all see each other as people. Not just the roles we play. I hope we can go do things together and actually have fun.  I hope you're never too embarrassed or ashamed to hang out with us. Because life is so short, baby.  And we waited until later in life to have you, so our time together is really going to be a little limited.  So we'll need to always remember to make the best of it.

And I hope that I am never a burden to you.  Some day when I'm old and unable to take care of myself, I hope that I've managed to make plans so that I can stay somewhere where others can take care of me, and you can live your life without ever having to know what it's like to have to tend to someone who always tended to you.

And I hope that you are a happy person. I know that life is hard when you're unhappy. I hope you find a way to be content and excited about most things. Because that's the best way to live. And some of it really is a choice. It's all in how you look at things. So hopefully I can manage to teach you this as much as possible.

That's all I can think of for now. You can come when ever you're ready now. Your due date starts in 4 hours.  They tell me not to be afraid of labor, so I guess I should tell you not to be afraid as well.  Mommas and babies go through this kind of thing all the time, and there will be people there who's job is to keep the two of us safe. And when you come out I promise to keep things quiet and warm and to hold you as much as possible until you aren't scared. We're in this together.

Also, I can't wait for you to meet your dad. He's really amazing and smart and loving. I feel really good that he is your dad. You're going to have an amazing life under his wing.

We'll see you very very soon,

Love,

Momma

What a pregnant brain looks like

So baby is maybe a week or so away.  Maybe more.  Maybe less. I haven't been writing a lot but it doesn't mean there's not a lot on my mind.  Here's something I wrote a couple weeks back but never hit publish on.  These days I feel like all I could muster up to write about is how physically uncomfortable I am.  Because I am. Seriously, everything hurts.  From my fingers to my tailbone to my ankles.  A friend said he thinks that mother nature makes us super duper uncomfortable at the end so that we're willing to do anything to get the baby out. And it makes a lot of sense.  Because my fear of labor is kind of being trumped by my desire to make my current pain stop.  

Anyway, if you have wondered what kinds of things go through the head of a first time mom before it all happens, here's what I was thinking a couple weeks ago before I got to be so uncomfortable and was still able to live in my head:

What I'm freaked out about:

The not knowing when this is going to happen is really getting to me.  Along with the not sleeping well.  All the uncertainty and lack of control has got me in a state. I don't know what work projects I should start and what I can promise to anyone.

And then I think about being a mom.  I have such mixed emotions. I don't want a life without children, but I've got all these fears that I'm afraid to admit to too many people.  

Yes I'm worried about pooping during labor. I'm worried about tearing during delivery.  I'm worried about getting stretch marks. All that vain stuff.  But more so....

I'm afraid I won't like him. I've never cared all that much about babies. So why would I like this one? What am I doing? Do I even deserve a baby?  What right have I to a baby when I'm so wishy washy and luke warm about the idea when there are so many women out there who are certain and are desperate for a baby?  (Ok. I am obviously forgetting how I felt when I was going through a miscarriage, and then acupuncture for fertility and all of that.  Obviously.  I know that I do want this but I'm just going a little crazy right now).  I have to just trust that I'll like my own baby.

And yeah I'm afraid my body won't look good after. I mean it was never great. It was pretty good when I was on anti anxiety meds which made me drop weight like crazy as a side effect (Not healthy.  Not cool. I know) but otherwise I'm really pear shaped and any extra weight I carry tends to exacerbate that. Pregnancy has helped balance that with an illusion. I actually feel cuter while pregnant than not. It disguises my disproportion. And I probably won't want to go to the gym after. Because I never did like going all that much before. And now I'll be tired, so I really won't want to go. 

And I'm terrified of always being super tired. And it's inevitable.  But I am miserable when I'm tired. Everything looks so ugly to me when I'm tired. I can't function when tired.  I start to hate everything.  What if I get depressed? What if I get to be terrible at my job?  What if I resent the baby? What if it affects my relationship? What if my depression affects the baby?  Why am I taking this risk??

And then to have to go in and focus on work???  On no sleep???  For a boss who doesn't have kids but does have high standards?? 

And I'm worried about what this change will do to my relationship with Z. I feel like we work so well as a pair. (Actually, lately I feel like sometimes I have been the baby. That's just a side note. It will be weird to shift roles once I'm not so handicapped). What if he starts to feel shut out because I become so focused on tending to baby that he needs to look elsewhere for love and I don't see it?

And I'm worried about breast feeding. To be totally honest, the concept already grosses me out. I assume I'll get over this. I'll need to.  Because I really want to to do everything I can to help Lenny to not have the food allergies that I have, and that so many other kids these days have.  But then I keep reading that it's painful as hell. How do you keep going when your nipples are cracked and bleeding? This sounds terrible. Just insane. Totally insane.

I'm worried about leaving him at daycare. What if they are not good to him?  What if they hurt him? Or neglect him?  What if he's sick all the time? 

I'm worried about living on less money. Day care is SO expensive.  It's more than our mortgage.

I'm worried that he won't like me.
I'm worried that he'll think the quiet life we lead is boring.

And on and on and on....


I need to come back and read this in a years' time with some commentary on how things actually turned out and how many of these fears were never realized.  Or were.  Ugh.

37.8 weeks

Now we start counting fractions of weeks again.

I feel off today. Not contented. Irritable. That feeling like my teeth itch. I don't know how else to explain it.  Everything is irritating to me.  

This morning we had an inconclusive, not very informative (with regard to progress) doctor's appointment.  I don't understand why they insist on doing cervical checks if the results are completely suggestive and one doctor can contradict a previous doctor's observations.

I just don't know.  I do terribly with uncertainty.

And I don't know when this baby is coming. On Sunday I thought for sure it was just a matter of days. But today he feels much further away.  I do know that he's heavy and he's sitting on my pelvis and bladder and everything is uncomfortable. I do know that I have more than the average amount of "practice contractions" and they're getting kind of old. I do know that my work projects aren't quite ready to be shut down, and so I guess I'm grateful for the extra time.

But the fact is that I'm physically tired, and that affects how I feel about everything.  And the people I'm working with on work stuff seem to be particularly ditzy and incompetent and are all lacking a sense of urgency, and I don't have time for that.

And there are fruit flies in our house for some reason that are making me want to scream.  I can't work from home if we have fruit flies.

And I'm feeling weepy about Fannie, who at this time 3 years ago was so sick.  She passed away on the 11th. I will be happy to soon have something else to associate Februaries with.

Ok enough bitching. I need to get back to work. Whah.

One part of my anatomy is no longer a mystery

My belly button is completely inside out.  If it weren't for the fact that it's herniated it'd probably be gone right now entirely.  Just a slightly different colored flat spot on a big round basketball of a belly. It's really a strange phenomenon to be able to feel the soft skin from the inside of your belly button. And it's also strange to realize that it's not a bottomless pit. 

I've had a weird relationship with my belly button for as long as I can remember.  I've never liked anything touching it. And I'm wondering if this will change the way I feel about it later. Maybe I will be over it. I guess we'll see. A lot of things will be different after all this.

I'm tired

I'm tired of being so cold.  I'm tired of being this pregnant. I'm tired of all the news coverage of justin bieber.

Fortunately all of this will take care of itself in due time.

I'm looking forward to spring for so many reasons.   No, summer. Summer will be best. 

So full of baby

Having a really uncomfortable night.  Baby just feels so huge and restless inside me. I feel like we're both miserable. 

Sometimes when I wake up at this hour I wonder if it's worth it to even try to go back to sleep. It's not like I'm gonna be able to get comfortable. Would going into work at 5am be too insane?  Probably. I'd crash by 2pm. 

Zach is sleeping but he still has his warm hand on my back. Just that little gesture of support is helping me out right now. 

I can't believe I have another 4.5 weeks left of this. At this moment I feel like I physically can't take anymore. Meaning I just don't think my belly can stretch to accommodate more baby. 

But I know it can. 

But ugh.  It's uncomfortable. And I'm so tired. 

Things I miss...

Ambien. 

Not a creature was stirring

I've been bad a writing lately and I feel like now is the most important time ever to be doing it.  I really should be taking these quiet moments to document what I'm thinking, and what life is like for us right now. Because from what I understand, I won't have the time to do these things later and I know that once Lenny is here our lives will never be the same.  So I'll work on that.

In the meantime, I've started an email address for the baby. It's his firstnamelastname at gmail.com  This will be handy for a couple reasons.  #1 - When he eventually needs an email address he won't need to be ____burdick57921@gmail.com.  So that will be pretty cool.  (assuming gmail is still around).  And #2, in the meantime I can use it to document things for him.  I can send him pictures of his birthday and holidays and normal days, and tell him little stories about things he says and does along the way.  It will be a virtual baby book of sorts and it can never get lost or destroyed in a fire or flood. 

So I kicked it off this afternoon with this little note to him:

Hello Baby,

I realize that by the time you read these emails you won't be a baby, but as of right now you definitely are. Today is December 8, 2013. It's a Sunday afternoon and the first big snow is falling outside.  Our house is so quiet.  All you can hear is the clock ticking. Your dad and our little dog Toni are each napping on separate couches. I will attach some pictures of this for you. 

You actually aren't here yet. You are currently bunched up on the right side of my belly under my rib cage. For some reason you seem to like it over there better than the left side or the middle. You kind of make my belly look funny this way. I feel a hard spot on the right side, which I'm not sure is your head or your little butt. Regardless, I like to pat it and hope it doesn't bother you. You're getting awfully crowded in my belly and you still have 2 more months to go!  Next week we will be going to have an ultrasound to see how big you are. We're thinking you are a big boy. I would not be surprised if you are 10lbs when you're born. Your dad was also a big boy at 9 lbs. Either way, I know that you are STRONG! I already feel you push with all your might on my insides like you're trying to get out through my belly button. I sense you're a little frustrated but you will be out soon enough and you'll be able to stretch and kick as much as you want then.  Until then it's probably best that you stay put because brrr... it's really cold out here today.

Love,

Momma

Rant

I'm depressed. Why do people with children feel like they need to tell me just how terrible it's going to be when this baby arrives? Surely there's another side of the story that they're not telling me. Because they go back and do it again and again. And they manage to do things outside of taking care of those babies for the first six months. Are they just showing off and being dramatic? Trying to sound like they're in the know? 

I guess I can understand someone's desire to do that but let's face it - it's rude.  Let me figure this out and have my own experience. And let me remember a year or two down the road to not do that crap to other expectant women.  We're scared enough as it is. Be encouraging. 

 

Oh my god I'm a 38D. 

Achievement unlocked:  I'm polishing the kitchen appliances at 8:30 in the morning. Must. Do it. Now.