some new views . . .

I can't even begin to express how sad I am that I have to go back to work on Monday. Jay will be home with her during the day, and I know that's amazing and reassuring, but I can hardly imagine leaving her for a whole day. It's so terrible to think about, I can't even write about it . . .

Maura is doing AMAZING; at her doctor's appointment last Thursday she was 7 lbs. 11 oz., which makes her feel like a TANK to us. She's still only in the 10th percentile, so who knows, we may have a skinny girl on our hands (not too skinny, we like girls with meat on their bones. With me as her mother I'm still not sure how she'll get away with not having some T & A).

Dare I say it has gotten easier to care for her? She doesn't sleep much, during the day or night, and we've yet to establish a routine, but we've gotten used to it. She's feeding a bit more regularly, and finally off the special preemie formula, but sleeping is tough. She doesn't nap, and if she does on the off chance, its in the evening approaching bedtime. And at night, we're lucky to get 3 hours of solid sleep. The doctor thinks its all related to the IUGR; we may never know what parts of her failed to fully develop, so she may be a bit behind for a while in getting her systems regulated. Although when she is alert, she recognizes voices, turns her head, grabs toys, and is even trying to hold her head upright. Developmentally, she is up to speed, but her internal systems are a bit haywire. I have full confidence it will sort itself out when she's good and ready.

Last week was my first week alone with her all day and night while Jay was at work, and it took a while to get the hang of things, but I did it. I just buckled down and gave myself a pep talk and said, "Listen, I am her mother. I can do this." So we went to Target, to the mall, out to lunch, and if she had a meltdown, it just had to be and I took care of it as best I can. I do know one thing: I will never roll my eyes at another parent again. I used to see babies screaming and parents doing things with their children I always swore I wouldn't do, but now that I have one of my own, I understand that every parent does the best they can with what they have. Every parent is just trying to keep their head above water. I feel a part of that "posse" now, and feel universally bonded to other mothers in a way I never expected. I feel like I could hug every woman I see with a child and just say, "I know, I'm one of you now." I love it.

This is kind of tangential, but I've recently discovered Facebook, and while the fact that I JUST discovered it makes me pathetically behind the times, it has allowed me to connect with people I once knew (many of whom are mothers) and it totally warms my heart in an unexpected way. Women I once knew as single freewheeling chicks are all on their own journeys, many of which include children, and although the thing that once connected us is no longer there, I feel strongly that memories link me to them in strange ways, and that now that I'm officially an "adult" (as having Maura has made me feel), I can connect with these people and wish them well and have it be just that, connected with people I care about that played a huge part in my life and that I would like to see doing well themselves. I could go on forever, but I can't tell you how good it feels to reach out to the people I often think about and hear they were doing the same. As weird as it sounds, it gives me tremendous pleasure to see an old friend's face and hear they are doing well. People don't ever mean for relationships to end, or to move on from the people who were so important in their lives at one juncture, and I feel thankful that Facebook has given me a chance to reconnect and wish those people well, even if they were only in my life for what seems like the blink of an eye. Every blink is valuable to me now; my perspective has totally changed.

As you can see, I am (and feel) all over the place, mainly because I'm in awe of how she has changed my life. I value myself more, love my husband more than I thought humanly possible, and feel like I now understand what it means to put someone else's life before your own. I would die for my daughter, no matter what the circumstances. I cry with how much I love her. It's the best feeling in the world.