Life is moving along at a fast and faster pace every day. I can hardly believe that it has been nearly 10 weeks since Ramona was born. I remember feeling like I didn't remember how 'not pregnant' felt. Now I am having a harder and harder time remembering how it was to be pregnant. I don't feel "the same"as before. In fact, I feel vastly different. My tolerance for bullshit is about 1/99th what it was before baby. My tolerance for no sleep and other demands for my time and attention are infinitely greater (as long as it is due to Ramona). My appetite is very different. I crave veggies and get hang overs from refined sugar now. My body is very different. I am squishy in places you would never wish for squish and lean in other places. I am working on getting strong again and hoping strong translates somewhat into a shape I like. The biggest bummer is that my sex drive is crap. If this is too much info stop reading. I have more to say about this topic and I think it is important so if hearing about my sex drive squicks you out this is your cue.
I have always been someone for whom sex was fun and not particularly difficult. Even when I was stressed out, I could wrap my head around it and end up really glad I had joined the fun. These days it is just about the last thing on earth I am interested it. I thought that even though it was not on my mental radar, once I got going it would be like riding a bike (Hahaha) and I would have no trouble. WRONG! I can't really get into it. Sort of no matter what. I try but it is sort of like someone has rewired the switch and now the light doesn't go on....at all. This sucks. For starters I had a few stitches in my bottom so I was in pain for a while and then we were waiting for them to heal all the way. Once that happened I was confidant that it would be all systems go. Not so much. At 9 weeks out I still have the feeling of an achy bottom if I hike or walk to far/long or over do it at Zumba. I have tried reacquainting with myself too and the whole thing feels about as "sexy" as brushing my teeth. I am not exhausted though I am tired, but I climb in bed and honest to god, if G tries to make it sexy times I mostly wonder why we aren't sleeping if we are in bed and the baby is asleep. It is so friggin' lame I know. I feel like all of my usual "sexy" spots are messed up. Nipples are sore or 'armed' these days and my bottom is just not returning my phone calls. It is such a drag. I feel like reconnecting with your partner after the baby comes is important. G is a very sweet and loving partner and has and continues to be very very patient with me while I try to catch back up to myself in some form. I just feel like I can't "do" sex these days. I don't really want to and it doesn't work when I AM interested. I intend to keep trying and I know that once I am done breast feeding things will return to a more hormonal normal place but that's another 12 months away... am I doomed to this asexual life in the mean time? I don't want to sound like a total 50's housewife but I intend to try and to show up for sex even if G is the only one who really gets anything out of it because I think it is important to our relationship and I want to bet on the chance that one of these times, at some point, I will feel something more than just warm and fuzzy from snuggling, but god dammit if I don't miss wanting it and enjoying it. It is hard to feel like I want to be intimate with my husband when all I want to do is snuggle and sleep with my baby. I know it is nature's way of bonding me with the baby to ensure her survival as well as prevent another pregnancy right away but it feels a little cruel to my partner.
There is so much to write. Work, my body, Ramona, my relationship with G, my relationship with my mom, my drive to become a midwife, my desire to have another baby (in a few years), my desire and the steps already being taken to become a childbirth educator and post-partum doula....so much to write. I have to try a little harder to keep up. Look for a few more posts in the next week.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
Ch-Cha-Cha-Changes....
I knew a lot of things would change with the birth of the baby. I thought I knew what the changes would be. I knew my body wouldn't be the same. I was pretty sure I would have flabby skin and stretch marks. I knew I would have a broken bottom for a little while. I figured I would be emotional. I was afraid of how tired I would be. I could laugh at myself right now. I was a total idiot. The things I thought I knew were wrong or profoundly different than I pictured.
I get tired so easily. A "big day" is a 45min walk with the dogs and R, a trip to the store, cooking dinner and prepping breakfast for the next day, cleaning up, feeding myself, maybe showering? I am trying to get my head around the idea of exercising again but honestly....wuh, it makes me feel like napping just thinking about it. On the flip side, I am never as tired as I thought I would be. Sure, I feel like someone has been storing their wool sweaters and blankets under my eyelids all night most mornings. I am prone to attempting to bribe my 7 week old daughter with anything from breast milk to cash if she will just sleep for another hour. But, I remember being dead bone tired durng my pregnancy and I was terrified that it would be even worse with a new baby. It sort of is, but I don't really mind like before. I live for cups of coffee and baby smiles. I am energized by her being calm and alert while we are out for a walk, or by picking up the kitchen. The amount of actual sleep I require seems to have shifted significantly. I may get 9 hours in bed but I only get about 6hrs of sleep and that is often in 2-3hr chunks. So, yeah, I was so afraid of being exhausted and it turns out it hasn't killed me. It hasn't even really been all that hard to get over. She is better than sleep and that is pretty much all I need.
My body is a mess. I am down 42lbs since the day she was born and that is FUCKING AWESOME! Pardon my French but Hallelujah! I was sure I would be stuck with baby weight for EVER! Here, the real problem is the loose skin. Seriously, this is a drag. The stretch marks don't bother me nearly as much as the flabby apron of skin I have down below the belt. It is awful. I have no idea how I am going to address it. It actually seems to be worse with every pound I lose. Gross. Also, my ass has left the building. This is going to sound super insane and maybe even racist? I had a great ass. It was big and midwestern and black men loved it. Seriously, white guys never seemed to comment on my ass the way middle aged black men did. Well, I think those days have passed because my butt has made like old people and headed south. I don't even understand why! What does my ass have to do with pregnancy? Oh well. Could be worse huh? The back fat...that's where the real bummer is. I am not wearing real bras these days. I am living in nursing tank tops and I am here to tell you they are fucking awesome. I am going to have to do my "pregnancy and postpartum gear review" soon. I know all the good stuff for pregnant ladies.
My broken butt is another thing. I only pushed for 29min. I pushed like both of our lives depended on it though and thanks to the student (grrrr) I tore. I didn't tear very badly but I needed stitches and she did a crap job with that too. I still have pain in my vulva. I often feel swollen and throbbing and achy like I have a headache in my crotch at the end of the day. Just about every day. It sucks. As if the hormones weren't bad enough libido killers, the feeling of painful butt really ties the room together. I didn't expect to still feel uncomfortable 7 weeks out. ** Let me just say that my discomfort is a 3-4 out of 10 on a pain scale. I take ibuprofen for it every few days when I really feel achy but it is not excruciating. I don't want to scare you. I just want to whine.** It does have me a little spooked about sex though. I just don't feel "good" down there in lady land. It is hard to want to have anyone over ya know?
Enough about my lady bits, lets talk about relationships. I feel pretty freakin' alone these days. I don't really feel like I am the same person I was before I had R and I am not sorry about being different. I feel like my closest friends don't quite know what to make of me now. I am part, boring only talks about R and part cautionary tale. I leak and don't sleep and change poopy pants and pee when I laugh too hard. I don't feel sexy and my belly is less muffin top and more pancake batter top. And yet, I am perfectly happy. I have never been so privileged to be such a damn mess. I also don't feel totally at home with my mommy friends either. I still feel like this is new and I am figuring it out and they have already been here and done it and it makes me feel self conscious. I have a tiny girl and she is not ready for play dates. I am not ready to be barraged with well intentioned advice. I feel confidant that I will be ready and strong enough soon enough but for now, I crave friends who have new babies so we could go through this together.
My relationship with the hubbs is changed too. We are not just two people who work hard, play hard and love the shit out of each other. We are parents now. We are tired, unwashed, hungry people who need a combination of things including soap, exercise, lots of food, 6 solid hours of sleep and to get laid. It is not easy. We are good communicators so that is one thing really in our corner but we are both still reeling from the enormity of all the changes. I get nervous about our happiness sometimes. Not so much our happiness with one another but peripheral happiness. The hubbs is my eternal optimist and all the changes have him feeling burned out about work and impatient for something great in his work life. He has wanted to fly his whole life and I had wanted a baby.....
Anyway, yeah, shit is crazy different. I am way tougher than I thought. I am way flabbier than I had expected. I am way happier than I could have imagined. I wonder if I will ever genuinely want to have sex again. I hope G finds some peace in the little things.
I get tired so easily. A "big day" is a 45min walk with the dogs and R, a trip to the store, cooking dinner and prepping breakfast for the next day, cleaning up, feeding myself, maybe showering? I am trying to get my head around the idea of exercising again but honestly....wuh, it makes me feel like napping just thinking about it. On the flip side, I am never as tired as I thought I would be. Sure, I feel like someone has been storing their wool sweaters and blankets under my eyelids all night most mornings. I am prone to attempting to bribe my 7 week old daughter with anything from breast milk to cash if she will just sleep for another hour. But, I remember being dead bone tired durng my pregnancy and I was terrified that it would be even worse with a new baby. It sort of is, but I don't really mind like before. I live for cups of coffee and baby smiles. I am energized by her being calm and alert while we are out for a walk, or by picking up the kitchen. The amount of actual sleep I require seems to have shifted significantly. I may get 9 hours in bed but I only get about 6hrs of sleep and that is often in 2-3hr chunks. So, yeah, I was so afraid of being exhausted and it turns out it hasn't killed me. It hasn't even really been all that hard to get over. She is better than sleep and that is pretty much all I need.
My body is a mess. I am down 42lbs since the day she was born and that is FUCKING AWESOME! Pardon my French but Hallelujah! I was sure I would be stuck with baby weight for EVER! Here, the real problem is the loose skin. Seriously, this is a drag. The stretch marks don't bother me nearly as much as the flabby apron of skin I have down below the belt. It is awful. I have no idea how I am going to address it. It actually seems to be worse with every pound I lose. Gross. Also, my ass has left the building. This is going to sound super insane and maybe even racist? I had a great ass. It was big and midwestern and black men loved it. Seriously, white guys never seemed to comment on my ass the way middle aged black men did. Well, I think those days have passed because my butt has made like old people and headed south. I don't even understand why! What does my ass have to do with pregnancy? Oh well. Could be worse huh? The back fat...that's where the real bummer is. I am not wearing real bras these days. I am living in nursing tank tops and I am here to tell you they are fucking awesome. I am going to have to do my "pregnancy and postpartum gear review" soon. I know all the good stuff for pregnant ladies.
My broken butt is another thing. I only pushed for 29min. I pushed like both of our lives depended on it though and thanks to the student (grrrr) I tore. I didn't tear very badly but I needed stitches and she did a crap job with that too. I still have pain in my vulva. I often feel swollen and throbbing and achy like I have a headache in my crotch at the end of the day. Just about every day. It sucks. As if the hormones weren't bad enough libido killers, the feeling of painful butt really ties the room together. I didn't expect to still feel uncomfortable 7 weeks out. ** Let me just say that my discomfort is a 3-4 out of 10 on a pain scale. I take ibuprofen for it every few days when I really feel achy but it is not excruciating. I don't want to scare you. I just want to whine.** It does have me a little spooked about sex though. I just don't feel "good" down there in lady land. It is hard to want to have anyone over ya know?
Enough about my lady bits, lets talk about relationships. I feel pretty freakin' alone these days. I don't really feel like I am the same person I was before I had R and I am not sorry about being different. I feel like my closest friends don't quite know what to make of me now. I am part, boring only talks about R and part cautionary tale. I leak and don't sleep and change poopy pants and pee when I laugh too hard. I don't feel sexy and my belly is less muffin top and more pancake batter top. And yet, I am perfectly happy. I have never been so privileged to be such a damn mess. I also don't feel totally at home with my mommy friends either. I still feel like this is new and I am figuring it out and they have already been here and done it and it makes me feel self conscious. I have a tiny girl and she is not ready for play dates. I am not ready to be barraged with well intentioned advice. I feel confidant that I will be ready and strong enough soon enough but for now, I crave friends who have new babies so we could go through this together.
My relationship with the hubbs is changed too. We are not just two people who work hard, play hard and love the shit out of each other. We are parents now. We are tired, unwashed, hungry people who need a combination of things including soap, exercise, lots of food, 6 solid hours of sleep and to get laid. It is not easy. We are good communicators so that is one thing really in our corner but we are both still reeling from the enormity of all the changes. I get nervous about our happiness sometimes. Not so much our happiness with one another but peripheral happiness. The hubbs is my eternal optimist and all the changes have him feeling burned out about work and impatient for something great in his work life. He has wanted to fly his whole life and I had wanted a baby.....
Anyway, yeah, shit is crazy different. I am way tougher than I thought. I am way flabbier than I had expected. I am way happier than I could have imagined. I wonder if I will ever genuinely want to have sex again. I hope G finds some peace in the little things.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
How Odd...
It is late, Ramona is dreaming in her baby nest and I am about to turn off the computer and go to sleep when my stomach rumbled. It was most certainly a gas bubble but it set off the thought in my mind "Oh, hi baby". It made me realize that I hadn't thought about how I had felt her presence in my belly for so long and now she is in the nest and the only thing moving about in the old tummy these days is gas. I don't know why it has struck me so. I guess I would have expected to miss it? Or to think of it sooner? I don't know...I just can't believe it took me 6 weeks to notice that. Anyway, I am hoping for some Sl**p tonight so I should make haste while the baby snoozes. Soon enough she will want to eat. Life if good, I am getting eager to start physical therapy to get my back and abs back in shape. Not that I really want to leave her but it will be more reassuring to go back to work physically able. Alright, night for now.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Stop! Hammer time!
I want everyone to stop for just a second and think of 5 things that make this exact place you are in today, this year, right now, awesome. Just take a minute and think about 5 things that make you so glad your life isn't any different even a tiny bit.
Are you thinking?
No really, do this....I'm serious.
1.I have a warm, snoring baby on my chest. She is the baby I grew and pushed out into the light. I am her momma and she knows it. After more than a decade of being the one who makes the babies cry I am now the one she wants. Pretty fucking cool.
2. I have a kind, understanding partner who changes diapers, feeds me and tries diligently to understand what the hell I am blubbering about when I start crying about random things. He is my best friend and though I feel a little disjointed right now as we are both exhausted and adjusting, I can't fathom doing this with anyone else. Really, I can't.
3. I am glad I have done so many of the awesome things I have done. I think about every sailing trip and camping trip, every outward bound course and night spent with my old lab truck camping, every mile I drove between the Portlands, every tear I shed over broken hearts or not getting into PA school, every tiny stupid disappointment and every great victory, saying yes on a mountain top, saying "I will" in front of friends and family, signing papers on a pool table at a bar on a rainy January night....All of it lead me to this day.
4. Being a distance runner....like LONG distance runner. I am equipped with a patience that was not god given to me. I am so impatient. Right now my whole world is based on a clock I never get to see. I only get to respond to the alarm and I have no idea what time it is set to go off. Being a runner taught me 1. Keep going. You are not as tired as you will be in another 20miles so enjoy the energy you have while you have it. 2. It all changes all the time so enjoy where you are and don't get too far ahead of yourself. Both of these things are acutely relevant to the first 2 months of parenthood as far as I can tell.
5. The sun is starting to come out. I was afraid I was never going to feel like going out with my babe. Towards the end of my pregnancy I was damn sure I was ALWAYS going to be exhausted and apathetic. I am exhausted, and almost always hungry but I vacuum, I walk the dogs, I clean the bathroom...I am generally living a more participatory life now than I was while I was pregnant. This gives me hope that I will figure out how to handle the continued sleep deprivation once I go back to work. I intend to address it and thrive in spite of it. I have no idea how but walks in the sunshine and a clean bathroom help.
6. I know I said 5 but I have one more and it is important. Friends. I have some really awesome buddies in my world. Some I feel like I met almost by accident. More than one of whom I am so thankful for it makes me a bit verclempt to think about.
Yeah, I had been throwing a bit of a pity party for myself yesterday...long story, and I wanted to take a second today to stop and be thankful, TRULY thankful for the things that make me feel perfectly content in my life right now. The things I want to work on include grad school, my baby belly and arms, moping the floors and bathing the dogs...they can all wait until tomorrow. Today I will bask in the glory of gratitude...and a new haircut.
Are you thinking?
No really, do this....I'm serious.
1.I have a warm, snoring baby on my chest. She is the baby I grew and pushed out into the light. I am her momma and she knows it. After more than a decade of being the one who makes the babies cry I am now the one she wants. Pretty fucking cool.
2. I have a kind, understanding partner who changes diapers, feeds me and tries diligently to understand what the hell I am blubbering about when I start crying about random things. He is my best friend and though I feel a little disjointed right now as we are both exhausted and adjusting, I can't fathom doing this with anyone else. Really, I can't.
3. I am glad I have done so many of the awesome things I have done. I think about every sailing trip and camping trip, every outward bound course and night spent with my old lab truck camping, every mile I drove between the Portlands, every tear I shed over broken hearts or not getting into PA school, every tiny stupid disappointment and every great victory, saying yes on a mountain top, saying "I will" in front of friends and family, signing papers on a pool table at a bar on a rainy January night....All of it lead me to this day.
4. Being a distance runner....like LONG distance runner. I am equipped with a patience that was not god given to me. I am so impatient. Right now my whole world is based on a clock I never get to see. I only get to respond to the alarm and I have no idea what time it is set to go off. Being a runner taught me 1. Keep going. You are not as tired as you will be in another 20miles so enjoy the energy you have while you have it. 2. It all changes all the time so enjoy where you are and don't get too far ahead of yourself. Both of these things are acutely relevant to the first 2 months of parenthood as far as I can tell.
5. The sun is starting to come out. I was afraid I was never going to feel like going out with my babe. Towards the end of my pregnancy I was damn sure I was ALWAYS going to be exhausted and apathetic. I am exhausted, and almost always hungry but I vacuum, I walk the dogs, I clean the bathroom...I am generally living a more participatory life now than I was while I was pregnant. This gives me hope that I will figure out how to handle the continued sleep deprivation once I go back to work. I intend to address it and thrive in spite of it. I have no idea how but walks in the sunshine and a clean bathroom help.
6. I know I said 5 but I have one more and it is important. Friends. I have some really awesome buddies in my world. Some I feel like I met almost by accident. More than one of whom I am so thankful for it makes me a bit verclempt to think about.
Yeah, I had been throwing a bit of a pity party for myself yesterday...long story, and I wanted to take a second today to stop and be thankful, TRULY thankful for the things that make me feel perfectly content in my life right now. The things I want to work on include grad school, my baby belly and arms, moping the floors and bathing the dogs...they can all wait until tomorrow. Today I will bask in the glory of gratitude...and a new haircut.
Friday, March 30, 2012
I may have gone off the deep end
I have been thinking a lot about how unprepared most of us western women are for the first 6 weeks home with our babies. Sure, your childbirth education (CbE) class told you how to care for an umbilical stump and MAYBE covered bathing a newborn but lets be real, the bulk of the things new parents (especially moms. Sorry Dads) will struggle with in the first 6 weeks were totally not covered in CbE.
G and I opted not to take CbE. We didn't have the time thanks to the 4on-4off work schedule, nor did we have the extra cash and I felt like it would probably be a waste of my time, having grown up in a 24-7 CbE class living with my mother. Also, we were felt like the class we would want to take would be the birthing from within class and while it would be really awesome we were a little leery of going to a class and hearing all about what a primal birth goddess I am. I looked at G and said "Yeah, yeah, my body is amazing. I am totally aware. I don't need some lady in a chiffon skirt and sandals charging me 200$ to tell me that. I bet we could read a few good books and come up with our own CbE." He breathed a huge sigh of relief and we went to Powells to score some books.
We decided to come up with a mix of Buddhist meditation, practical hands on stuff and Birthing From Within. We bought Penny Simpkin's The Birth Partner and G took it to work and read it and took notes on things we should talk about. I read Birthing From Within and also made notes on things we needed to practice or discuss. I want to side bar for just a second and say I LOVE childbirth ed classes. I think they are awesome and empowering and very very important. They help parents in waiting connect to the idea that there is work that will need to be done and that there are ways to work through labor that are powerful and peaceful and it is not like an episode of friends where some woman in a bed screams for 2min and they hand you a 4month old covered in Jello. I 100% advocate for CbE classes...I just couldn't imagine going to one myself. I am a snob. I admit, I did not want to hang out with a bunch of pregnant ladies and stew in the anxiety and the mystique of pregnancy. I just wanted to be me. I would rather eat tacos and talk birth plans with G at Por Que No?. Anyway, with the blessing of our fabulous midwife we went ahead with our DIY CbE class plan. We had lists and many good conversations about everything from "labor projects" like baking cookies, to where I wanted to walk and how I wanted G to talk to me during contractions. By the time I went into labor we had not finished all the things on our labor prep check list but I felt like we had covered all the important stuff and more importantly, I trusted that we knew how to do hard physical things together. My running that 50K taught us both a lot about how to be with each other in tough times and G was a master at supporting me in the rough patches. So, long story endless no CbE classes for us.
Now, that I am almost 6 weeks into my lifelong membership in motherhood I am reflecting on all the "shit no one prepares you for". I had no idea that I would have crazy hot flashes that would soak my bed and pillows. I had no idea how hungry I would be or how tired I would be. I had no idea that my emotions would be so utterly fickle ranging from elation to sobbing uncontrollably in the blink of an eye. I had no idea my daughter would have acne that would come and go over the course of a day, or just how tricky it would be to bathe a strong willed newborn. I felt nervous putting her in her cloth diapers and I wasn't sure how to start a "sleep routine" or if I should or when I should. I didn't have a CLUE what to do when my milk came in and I started drowning her. I just looked at my mom and cried. There was SO much I was totally unaware of. I felt a little let down.
Talking to my good friend, who happens to be an awesome Doula and mother to the most charming one year old I know, I discovered that she observed the same thing. People say "Nothing prepares you for the first 6 weeks". I say women and families could be a little more prepared. There could be a class or a book all about the first 6 weeks. It could address the emotions, the physical changes, the relationship changes and the itty stupid details that could be a little less overwhelming if someone gave you a heads up. So, B and I have started talking about writing a curriculum for a class "Birth is just the beginning; The first 6 weeks with your new baby". I am so excited. I feel so motivated. I don't think I am an expert by any means but I AM a new mom who thinks what I am learning and observing could help other families have a slightly better first 6 weeks. If nothing else they would know that what they are going through is normal and they are NOT alone.
I will keep you posted on the development of the class. B and I are meeting next week to talk in more detail about it. I am pretty excited.
G and I opted not to take CbE. We didn't have the time thanks to the 4on-4off work schedule, nor did we have the extra cash and I felt like it would probably be a waste of my time, having grown up in a 24-7 CbE class living with my mother. Also, we were felt like the class we would want to take would be the birthing from within class and while it would be really awesome we were a little leery of going to a class and hearing all about what a primal birth goddess I am. I looked at G and said "Yeah, yeah, my body is amazing. I am totally aware. I don't need some lady in a chiffon skirt and sandals charging me 200$ to tell me that. I bet we could read a few good books and come up with our own CbE." He breathed a huge sigh of relief and we went to Powells to score some books.
We decided to come up with a mix of Buddhist meditation, practical hands on stuff and Birthing From Within. We bought Penny Simpkin's The Birth Partner and G took it to work and read it and took notes on things we should talk about. I read Birthing From Within and also made notes on things we needed to practice or discuss. I want to side bar for just a second and say I LOVE childbirth ed classes. I think they are awesome and empowering and very very important. They help parents in waiting connect to the idea that there is work that will need to be done and that there are ways to work through labor that are powerful and peaceful and it is not like an episode of friends where some woman in a bed screams for 2min and they hand you a 4month old covered in Jello. I 100% advocate for CbE classes...I just couldn't imagine going to one myself. I am a snob. I admit, I did not want to hang out with a bunch of pregnant ladies and stew in the anxiety and the mystique of pregnancy. I just wanted to be me. I would rather eat tacos and talk birth plans with G at Por Que No?. Anyway, with the blessing of our fabulous midwife we went ahead with our DIY CbE class plan. We had lists and many good conversations about everything from "labor projects" like baking cookies, to where I wanted to walk and how I wanted G to talk to me during contractions. By the time I went into labor we had not finished all the things on our labor prep check list but I felt like we had covered all the important stuff and more importantly, I trusted that we knew how to do hard physical things together. My running that 50K taught us both a lot about how to be with each other in tough times and G was a master at supporting me in the rough patches. So, long story endless no CbE classes for us.
Now, that I am almost 6 weeks into my lifelong membership in motherhood I am reflecting on all the "shit no one prepares you for". I had no idea that I would have crazy hot flashes that would soak my bed and pillows. I had no idea how hungry I would be or how tired I would be. I had no idea that my emotions would be so utterly fickle ranging from elation to sobbing uncontrollably in the blink of an eye. I had no idea my daughter would have acne that would come and go over the course of a day, or just how tricky it would be to bathe a strong willed newborn. I felt nervous putting her in her cloth diapers and I wasn't sure how to start a "sleep routine" or if I should or when I should. I didn't have a CLUE what to do when my milk came in and I started drowning her. I just looked at my mom and cried. There was SO much I was totally unaware of. I felt a little let down.
Talking to my good friend, who happens to be an awesome Doula and mother to the most charming one year old I know, I discovered that she observed the same thing. People say "Nothing prepares you for the first 6 weeks". I say women and families could be a little more prepared. There could be a class or a book all about the first 6 weeks. It could address the emotions, the physical changes, the relationship changes and the itty stupid details that could be a little less overwhelming if someone gave you a heads up. So, B and I have started talking about writing a curriculum for a class "Birth is just the beginning; The first 6 weeks with your new baby". I am so excited. I feel so motivated. I don't think I am an expert by any means but I AM a new mom who thinks what I am learning and observing could help other families have a slightly better first 6 weeks. If nothing else they would know that what they are going through is normal and they are NOT alone.
I will keep you posted on the development of the class. B and I are meeting next week to talk in more detail about it. I am pretty excited.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Let's Talk About It
Happy 4 weeks! Things are going pretty well all things (sleep deprivation, language barrier and her uncanny knack for knowing when I have hot food I would like to eat) considered. I am tired but in 7th heaven as a mom and as Ramona's mom in particular. The Hubbs and I are figuring out new things every day. This week the big lesson for me was "DON'T let the stuff that brings you to tears in the dark of the night fester" additionally, "Don't think every shadow of an issue you think you see in the dark of the night as you hold or change or nurse you screaming baby, is REAL. Mostly they are not".
G and I are really F-ing good communicators within our relationship. I mean PhD level interpersonal communication. We listen without judgment, we hear the root of the issue, we don't take shit personally, we let the other finish speaking and we ask deliberate questions about how we can make X better. We love the crap out of one another and we pride ourselves on giving the other the benefit of the doubt. "I could kill him right now but I honestly believe he did not mean to do that thing that drives me batt shit crazy" or "I want to tell her to suck it up and just deal with X but I know she is tired and overwhelmed so I will just listen and tell her I am sorry she is struggling." We almost always handle each other from a place of love, compassion and mutual respect. It sounds gross and like total BS but I swear to god, we don't fight and I believe it is because we are so damned good at communicating with one another. (The outside world may be another story all together but inside here we rule) Anyway, now that you have that context I will tell you that lately I have been struggling to express feeling overwhelmed without using my whiny voice. In the dark of the night when G is sleeping and I am nursing or being cried at by the newborn I feel overwhelmed sometimes. I don't know why she is crying or I am so tired I could die or I have to pee and for shit's sake can't he hear her screaming?! Why doesn't he cut the fake snoring routine and take the little terrorist for me so I can pee and eat something?! I found myself the other night, holding R as she cried (she has a hard time relaxing to fart or poop and it makes her cranky sometimes) looking at G and thinking about pinching him on the back of the arm. You know, the really sensitive part of your arm skin? Yeah, I wanted to pinch him there....for being asleep. Crazy....I am aware. I did not pinch my sweet husband. I got the baby back to sleep and fell back asleep myself without assaulting anyone. Good job me. I didn't say anything about my midnight plotting or the feelings of lonely, exhausted, overwhelmmedness that were the likely ingredients of the stew. I didn't say anything for about a week....then, last night I found myself in the stew again. I wanted to pinch him and then wake him up and tell him how when he stays asleep but sighs "faux sympathetically" at us struggling to fart/poop at 4 am I want to kill him. I wanted to tell him that as much as I adore our daughter sometimes I need him to read my mind and just come get her and sing to her and change her and love on her while I take a shower, without asking him. I wanted to just freak out....I didn't. Instead, I went back to sleep. I caved in and let R sleep in bed next to me and I just kept my boob handy for her to access at will. When we all woke up this morning G got up and offered to make me breakfast. He scrambled me eggs (he is the BEST at scrambies) with swiss chard and cheese. It was divine. We had plans to get out and run some errands today and we both needed showers. He told me to take my time with breakfast and that he would take her so I could shower when I came downstairs. I had almost forgotten about the dark of the night....then, I realized this was the perfect time to talk about it. I had eaten, we had both had "sleep" the night before (mine was about as close to sleep as O'Doul's is to beer but what the hell) and I was feeling very loving towards him. It was the perfect time to talk about my feelings since they were NOT currently in the driver's seat.
Long story endless, we sat in the living room and talked about our feelings. We decided to have a code word for when she is angry and I am clueless and just need him to try. We talked about our personal needs and expectations of one another and discovered that some of our "misses" were a product of trying not to boss or strong arm the other. After about 30 min of talking and several rounds of me getting choked up over absolutely nothing we both felt a lot better. We both felt heard and loved and respected and a renewed sense of enthusiasm for the game of "family" we are playing as a team. We talked it out and though, I totally 100% love the crap out of my husband, I think we both understand how having a baby challenges a couple and how, if you are not strong as a pair and really invested in taking care of each other, you could be proper fucked when the sleep deprivation kicks in full force and neither of you can see straight.
In summary, things are good here. Things are ever changing...like R's diapers. We are learning something new all the time and relearning the major lessons like 'how to talk it out before you pinch someones arm chub in the dark of the night' as well. Life will never be the same sweet life we shared as a carefree, well slept, happy pair before R came along, but then again, I have never been so in love with two people in my whole life and I can't for the life of me imagine a world without her in it. I guess, I think of it this way We got really good at taking care of each other and our little world in good times and in struggles before Ramona came along. All of that was the ground work for taking care of each other as a family and weathering the storm of adjusting to our new life and its demands and pace. I am so glad we were so well practiced before we got here because here is hard but wonderful with such an awesome partner by my side.
G and I are really F-ing good communicators within our relationship. I mean PhD level interpersonal communication. We listen without judgment, we hear the root of the issue, we don't take shit personally, we let the other finish speaking and we ask deliberate questions about how we can make X better. We love the crap out of one another and we pride ourselves on giving the other the benefit of the doubt. "I could kill him right now but I honestly believe he did not mean to do that thing that drives me batt shit crazy" or "I want to tell her to suck it up and just deal with X but I know she is tired and overwhelmed so I will just listen and tell her I am sorry she is struggling." We almost always handle each other from a place of love, compassion and mutual respect. It sounds gross and like total BS but I swear to god, we don't fight and I believe it is because we are so damned good at communicating with one another. (The outside world may be another story all together but inside here we rule) Anyway, now that you have that context I will tell you that lately I have been struggling to express feeling overwhelmed without using my whiny voice. In the dark of the night when G is sleeping and I am nursing or being cried at by the newborn I feel overwhelmed sometimes. I don't know why she is crying or I am so tired I could die or I have to pee and for shit's sake can't he hear her screaming?! Why doesn't he cut the fake snoring routine and take the little terrorist for me so I can pee and eat something?! I found myself the other night, holding R as she cried (she has a hard time relaxing to fart or poop and it makes her cranky sometimes) looking at G and thinking about pinching him on the back of the arm. You know, the really sensitive part of your arm skin? Yeah, I wanted to pinch him there....for being asleep. Crazy....I am aware. I did not pinch my sweet husband. I got the baby back to sleep and fell back asleep myself without assaulting anyone. Good job me. I didn't say anything about my midnight plotting or the feelings of lonely, exhausted, overwhelmmedness that were the likely ingredients of the stew. I didn't say anything for about a week....then, last night I found myself in the stew again. I wanted to pinch him and then wake him up and tell him how when he stays asleep but sighs "faux sympathetically" at us struggling to fart/poop at 4 am I want to kill him. I wanted to tell him that as much as I adore our daughter sometimes I need him to read my mind and just come get her and sing to her and change her and love on her while I take a shower, without asking him. I wanted to just freak out....I didn't. Instead, I went back to sleep. I caved in and let R sleep in bed next to me and I just kept my boob handy for her to access at will. When we all woke up this morning G got up and offered to make me breakfast. He scrambled me eggs (he is the BEST at scrambies) with swiss chard and cheese. It was divine. We had plans to get out and run some errands today and we both needed showers. He told me to take my time with breakfast and that he would take her so I could shower when I came downstairs. I had almost forgotten about the dark of the night....then, I realized this was the perfect time to talk about it. I had eaten, we had both had "sleep" the night before (mine was about as close to sleep as O'Doul's is to beer but what the hell) and I was feeling very loving towards him. It was the perfect time to talk about my feelings since they were NOT currently in the driver's seat.
Long story endless, we sat in the living room and talked about our feelings. We decided to have a code word for when she is angry and I am clueless and just need him to try. We talked about our personal needs and expectations of one another and discovered that some of our "misses" were a product of trying not to boss or strong arm the other. After about 30 min of talking and several rounds of me getting choked up over absolutely nothing we both felt a lot better. We both felt heard and loved and respected and a renewed sense of enthusiasm for the game of "family" we are playing as a team. We talked it out and though, I totally 100% love the crap out of my husband, I think we both understand how having a baby challenges a couple and how, if you are not strong as a pair and really invested in taking care of each other, you could be proper fucked when the sleep deprivation kicks in full force and neither of you can see straight.
In summary, things are good here. Things are ever changing...like R's diapers. We are learning something new all the time and relearning the major lessons like 'how to talk it out before you pinch someones arm chub in the dark of the night' as well. Life will never be the same sweet life we shared as a carefree, well slept, happy pair before R came along, but then again, I have never been so in love with two people in my whole life and I can't for the life of me imagine a world without her in it. I guess, I think of it this way We got really good at taking care of each other and our little world in good times and in struggles before Ramona came along. All of that was the ground work for taking care of each other as a family and weathering the storm of adjusting to our new life and its demands and pace. I am so glad we were so well practiced before we got here because here is hard but wonderful with such an awesome partner by my side.
Friday, March 16, 2012
I need an adult
So, in 4 days my daughter will be a month old. Holy crap! It has been the longest and fastest month of my life. She has been a real champ, sleeping about 3-4 hours at a stretch each night....until last night...I am trying hard to get her used to sleeping in the co-sleeper and not on my chest or snuggled up to my breast every night but it is hard because she is such a snuggle bug and honestly, I hate hearing her cry. I thought I was the fucking ninja of sleep training the other night when I had swaddled her, turned on a little white noise and after about 3 min of fussing she was out like a light for 4.5hrs. I was all set for a repeat last night but nope. Ramona was not having ANY of that. She fussed and fussed and screamed a bit and fussed some more and then was up fussing every 45 min all night. It was brutal. By the time 8am rolled around I had the worst headache and I felt like I had spent the night in a cement mixer. The worst part was that she was still cranky and fussy. I would have given my left eye for her to coo and roll over, snuggle up and go to sleep on my chest. Nope. So, I went downstairs and nursed for a bit then ate the entire contents of the refrigerator and handed her off to my Dad who arrived last night. She snuggled up on his chest, cooed and fell asleep. I staggered back upstairs, spooned my snoring husband and fell asleep. I have no recollection of this but apparently about an hour and a half later I shook G awake and told him "You have had 6hrs of sleep. Get up and go take the baby"....Good man that he is he obliged. I slept for a bit longer and now I am blogging to you as she sleeps half facing out of the Moby wrap on my chest.
Becoming a mother is a transition. It started at birth I suppose for me but the more tangible transition began when I peed on that little stick...I had to make choices about booze, food, sleep, work, nail polish, providers, bras, diapers, clothes, decor....now I am making choices about sleeping, bathing, vaccinations, crying, doctors....ALL of it. I am the MOM. I don't want to sound like G doesn't have a say in things, he very much does and often is the generator of the best ideas. What I mean is that no longer is anyone leaving me a long detailed note of instructions on her preferences and routine. Sometimes I just wonder "what the hell should I do?" often times when I find myself stuck asking that question I call my own mother, because in spite of the fact that I have grown and given birth to a fully functioning, living breathing human being, sometimes I just need an adult.
Becoming a mother is a transition. It started at birth I suppose for me but the more tangible transition began when I peed on that little stick...I had to make choices about booze, food, sleep, work, nail polish, providers, bras, diapers, clothes, decor....now I am making choices about sleeping, bathing, vaccinations, crying, doctors....ALL of it. I am the MOM. I don't want to sound like G doesn't have a say in things, he very much does and often is the generator of the best ideas. What I mean is that no longer is anyone leaving me a long detailed note of instructions on her preferences and routine. Sometimes I just wonder "what the hell should I do?" often times when I find myself stuck asking that question I call my own mother, because in spite of the fact that I have grown and given birth to a fully functioning, living breathing human being, sometimes I just need an adult.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)