The True Present

I was up late the other night, helping a fellow mama with her new baby via text message. (Yep... text message.) No matter how experienced a mama may be there's always something that pops up that you didn't expect. Something that throws you for a loop that leaves you second guessing things you were so sure were going to happen. When your expectations are thrown out the window it's hard to accept the true present- the reality- of things.

It's some hard stuff, this mama business.

"... I get so darn stuck in it. And I wish I could tell you what you need to do to work through that. But, I can't because I don't know how to do it for myself, " was a partial text that I sent to my mama-friend during our continued conversation, trying my best to reassure her.

I really wish I knew how to do it for myself.

Post-partum depression is kicking me in the butt. Hard. I struggle with the fact that I have it. (And it's clear- I do have it.) Before I was pregnant I always said I would probably get it but after Birdie hit 4-months-old I thought I was in the clear. I thought I would be weepy all of the time. I thought my bond with Birdie would reverse itself. I thought I would be so wishy-washy and undecided in my mothering. Nope... the reality is quite the opposite of what I originally thought which, in itself, is also a challenge. (And a blessing...?)

I don't want to convey a message that I'm constantly stuck in it. The majority of my days are "business as usual," and filled with many wonderful things: a silly, almost crawling baby who snuggles her face into my neck while simultaneously patting my back every time I pick her up. Two dogs who crack me up as they attempt to climb our big oak trees trying to catch a pair a squirrels. A husband that surprises me with a box of my favorite cookies and who sends me funny text messages all day. (Gosh, I love that man!) Those moments are always bright spots.

And then there's a shift.

It could be an external situation or internal... or both... but a shift nonetheless. Suddenly, heavy iron doors start shutting down inside and it's not long before I feel trapped inside myself. My anxiety level raises. It feels like tiny pins inside me are bursting and trying to escape through my skin, and I start checking myself to see if I'm physically shaking. Then my eyes search for the nearest clock. "How long will it last this time?" Every minute that passes feels like an eternity when I'm stuck in it. It's very lonely here. Unbearably lonely. Those wonderful moments and interactions become life preservers thrown out to rescue me but if I reach them I cannot hang onto them long enough. Everything becomes irritable and personally offensive- the glass left out on the counter... the pile of laundry waiting to be folded... a husband asking for assistance... I struggle to control my responses. The only way I know how to survive the shift is to either zone out and refrain from speaking or to clean... obsessively.

I keep checking the clock.

"Ugh, it's only been ___ minutes!" 

It becomes harder to hold on.

"How much longer?!"

Eventually there's another shift.

This one comes on much slower, like the sun slowly melting ice. I begin to hold on to the brights spots and interactions for longer periods. Anxiety settles enough for me to control my breath. I can finally put down the sponge, vacuum and all-purpose cleaner. Those heavy iron doors open enough for me to notice the details around me- the smell of my Anthropologie candle burning, two dogs curled up asleep in their beds, a baby rooting on my chest for a snack... It's finally over.

I remind my new mama friend that eventually things will get better, no matter how hard and difficult things are now. No matter how hard and strenuous the moment is... it'll pass... eventually. I remind myself, too. This wasn't what I really expected, or wanted, but it's the true present... it's the reality.

I glance over at my birdie-girl to see what she's getting into now. She's scooted her way off the living room rug and onto the tile. She flashes me a toothy, cheesy smile. I respond with a similar scrunchy smile back. I'm back in the true present, the one that I want to stay in the most. This is the true present that I welcome.

Excused Absence

it's been awhile with no word from this wifey.

apologies. 

settling in a new home and location is hard work. it's a job that i'm still plugging away at, but i can now see light at the end of the tunnel. there have been new friends, play dates, doctor visits, family walks, church callings and teaching, schedule switch-a-roos, colds, teething, lots of carne asada eating, baking, late nights, developmental milestones, phone calls to california, surfing, road trips, crazy thunderstorms, and falling in love with a new album by a favorite artist. as you can see we've been a little busy. 

in the midst of this a stranger showed up unannounced. at first it was quiet and subtle. then it grew noticeable but was kept in a corner, like a pile of papers waiting to be filed. suddenly it required my full attention. i was prepared for post-partum depression to hit but not this late, and not in this way. it has caused such a disturbance that it's hard to function some days. functioning as a mom has been no problem. but functioning as a wife, friend, sister, daughter? yikes. 

on side, but relevant, note: honestly... i took starting solid foods with birdie very, very hard. part of it i blame on post-partum, another part i blame on having to go through infertility, and the other part i blame on social pressures of being a mom. (and a new one at that!) d and i waited and waited for so stinkin' long to become parents that starting the solid-food milestone is just a tangible reminder- and a strong one- that her babyhood is quickly fading. pressure from outside sources to get her to eat three solid food meals a day seems, to me, intrusive and ..... commercial....? in the end- one la leche league meeting reassured my fears. so, while we'll sloooowly continue with solid foods but not make in a huge focus while she's still under a year old. 

for now my postings will slow down a little until i can get a better grip on this post-partum business. i have a few scheduled posts/ photo dumps that will appear next week in my absence. and despite all of this murkiness there have been so many bright, sunny spots. sweetness between our little trio, or with new friends, have made me stop and relish the moment. the following pictures are proof of that. 

1. a walk with mama and dog-dogs

2. all fancy-faced for church

3. weeeeeeee

4. my two best girls

5. lovin' our huge backyard 

6. one tooth... two tooth... and now we're on to our third

7. a very, very, very late night bath

8. a face i could eat up

9. less than a week away from being a 7-month-old

The Aftermath

6 Weeks Post-partum 

Size of Baby: Ha! We'll find out, officially, in a couple weeks but I'm pretty sure Birdie is pushing into the 13-14lb range. Some 3-month clothing is still fitting her but I just pulled out a handful of 6-month clothing. The girl is a long one! 

Weight: Between baby, placenta, water weight, extra blood, etc, etc, I have lost 35 pounds. I'm 5 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight but I believe that's being held up between breastfeeding (up two cups sizes!) and the little tummy I still carry. 

My belly button is...err... not where it originally started. I still have a linea nigra, but I'm hoping it'll start fading sooner than later. My little pooch is littered with pink stretch marks that I HOPE will go away eventually. (Please, please, please, please, please, please, please!!!) 

Continuing Symptoms: Sinus congestion. Go figure. 

New Symptoms: My hair has slowly begun to shed, my wedding ring fits again (hooray!), swelling has gone away, night sweats are subsiding, inner mama bear has become more ferocious, and I've become more sentimental. (ie: Cannot tell Mila I love her without tearing up or read her On The Night You Were Born without a lump in my throat.) I'm also a LOT more laid back as a parent than I anticipated. 

Clothes: Since the day I was released from the hospital I've been on the go. (Ehh major surgery shmurgery) I credit that, and the fact I have to lift our turkey-bird baby all day as my workout. However, breastfeeding has been the biggest cause of my slim down. I'm. Constantly. Feeding. Birdie. The first few weeks I stuck to leggings and maternity jeans because of my c-section incision. Now I'm completely out of maternity pants and shirts. I've purchased a few new tops, a new pair of skinny jeans, and a maxi skirt. Now the challenge is to continue to slowly update my wardrobe while keeping in mind that tops must be breastfeeding accessible. 

Sleep: I'll be the first to admit that Mila is a very content baby AND easy to please (see previous breastfeeding comment) I KNOW that I'm very blessed in that department. Mila-bird does have an occasional "witching hour" that's more like "witching 3 hours." For the most part she has three predictable, long naps during the day, catnaps in the evening, and is asleep by 8:30/ 9pm. Those who are close to me know that I have a 9 o'clock feeding ever since I was born- which means come 9pm it's cereal eatin' time. Birdie has a 12am feeding that she NEVER misses. After that she (and I) sleeps in 3-4 hour stretches. Sometimes she can go as long as 5-6 hrs. 

What I'm Eating: My eating habits haven't changed that much from before. I'm definitely not eating or indulging as much as I was when pregnant. Right after Mila was born I started having gallbladder pain that really, really hurt. I cut out all fatty foods for a couple weeks and it went away, thank goodness. (Apparently that can happen when you have a c-section...?) I've discovered that Mila's little body cannot handle me eating a lot of acidic foods or lots of potato-y things. Acidic foods turn into a terrible diaper rash and too many potato-y things turns into an upset tummy for her. 

Cravings: I would love, love, love to indulge in some In-N-Out but I'm being very, very good by staying away. Partly for fat content (gallbladder), partly because it's just not that healthy and partly because of Mila's potato issues. Other than that I'm LOVING avocados... daily. 

Special Post-Partum Moments: 

There are a loooot but I'll keep it simple: 

1. The fact that my mom gets the biggest smiles out of Mila. 

2. Just watching my dad hold her. 

3. The text messages I get from D saying how sweet and pretty Birdie is, that he "misses his girls," or that he was super teary eyed when he saw her birth. I cannot tell you how much more I love him since Mila's arrival. 

4. Receiving two beautiful, vintage linen blessing dresses from Mila's "GiGi." Ironically they're exactly what I was getting ready to purchase but I didn't tell anyone besides D of my intentions. It was meant to be! 

5. Introducing Birdie girl to our favorite Bishop. He has supported both D and I individually and as a couple. 

6. The way Mila-bird sleeps: on her side, an arm flung over her face, snuggled up close to me and making little coos, sighs and squawks. 

7. The way Bogey lays next to Birdie in her swing or when she's on my bed. How Roo finds me and does her potty dance to alert me that Birdie is crying before rushing to her side. 

15 Days

It's clique to say that time has flown by... but, actually, it truly has. In a twisted way it seems like my days spent recovering in the hospital happened eons ago. (Maybe it just seemed like I was there for a ridiculously loooong time.)

Mila-bird has taught me so much within these past 15 days: breastfeeding while shopping in Target/ restaurants, how to use the bathroom with an infant in your arms (a public one, too!), how to get blood drawn while holding said infant, driving with a screamer in the backseat, how to- unsuccessfully- change a (cloth) diaper in a car, how to clothe a child that's too big for most of the stuff you have, how to clip nails without mauling little fingers, and so on...

... just to name a few.

At this point I'm delighted (and feel a little guilty saying) that Birdie is an easy, peasy baby. Breastfeeding has been a breeze, I get to shower everyday, she likes the car (except when hungry), and I'm sleeping about 6-7 combined hours per night. (I still have dark circles under my eyes, though.) We spend the bulk of our days nursing, changing/ caring for cloth diapers, finding something to do outside of the house (cough, cough Target cough), and doing stuff that must be done- doggie exercising, laundry, lots of phone calls with D, and the like.

We've had quite a few visitors within the past two weeks. I wish it was easy to fork over Mila-bird when others perch- ready to take her from my arms... but that mama-bear in me kicks in. Hard. So far, this has been my only challenge. There have been times when I have to descretly excuse myself and cry in the bathroom after visitors leave. Sharing isn't always easy.

iPhoto notes that I've taken 145 pictures of Mila-bird within the past 15 days. You know...heh... just a few. Here's a sample of my favorites:

Last picture of me pregnant, walking into the hospital.  

Our first picture together 

My mom skyping with D during delivery/ clean up 

4:30am, slightly tired, but thrilled.  

Hanging out in the hospital nursery after nursing.  

Heading home! 

 First night home

First pediatrician appointment/ day out.  

Smiley bird 

Birdie- girl loves her some water time.  

Sweet girl 

Snuggle bug

...And, Then, Your Face.

Mild contractions
Broken water
Hours of relentless back labor
An epidural
A high fever
A decision
An operating room
A Skype phone call
Full-body shaking
A single cry... Then a few more.
(and tears from your daddy)

...and, then, your face next to mine.

It was a face I'd been dreaming of for over three years. Your cry: a sound that instantly bonded you to me, and told me you were ours...forever.

Your journey- in every sense of the word- was nothing short of dramatic. Your calm, content nature, dark hair, chunky self, and mama-like features were all icing on top our new little cupcake.  

You were 9.8 pounds and 21.5 inches. And we're in love with all that you encompass.

Mila Scout- you are our favorite work of art.