and Jay went all out and got us a really good keg and made sure to keep it nice and cold (it was a Smalley party, after all):
Maura, generally, was pleased:
A few days later, we had her one year appointment with the pedi, where she presented a tiny 18.5 lbs. and 27.5 inches -- roughly the size of an 8 month old. Although we think she is perfect, and the doctor called her "charming," we were instructed to call early intervention to get her assessed and caught up on some gross motor skill milestones she's yet to reach -- namely, crawling normally (not commando style, which is her preferred mode) and standing unassisted. Clearly every child progresses at her own pace, and she was an early roller-over and sitter, and babbles (almost coherently) up a blue streak, but our normally unfazed pedi was a bit fazed this time, and we're compelled to react.We'd get to it, but holy shit, it's been busy. Although it now seems routine, our schedule of me and Jay never seeing each other is I think the primary reason this year has flown by. That coupled with the fact that my job keeps me literally half-pulling my hair out, we are still getting settled into our house, and oh, we're trying to have another baby--it's a wonder I still remember my name at the end of the day.
The having another baby thing-- well, that's a loaded canon. I certainly don't want to blog about infertility, as there are plenty of (well, hundreds of) others who do that better. And, I'm not technically infertile, since I had a baby a year ago (well, my doctor would disagree, but I maintain that I'm not). However, we are having trouble, and while I'm certainly not the most modest or private person, it's remarkably a touchy subject, even for me.
Secondary infertility (diagnostic term, check!) is rather bizarre, because about 95% of the people I talk to just don't get it, which has caused me to pretty much shut up about it. Most of the people I've talked with, even without giving full details, just saying we'd like to have another child, tell me I should just be grateful for Maura and that she should be enough. This makes me want to jump off a bridge. Having another child has absolutely nothing, ZERO, ZILCH, to do with my feelings of gratitude toward Maura, other than that I'd be grateful to the universe if she could have a sibling. Anyone who really knows me knows that frankly, I am probably borderline obsessed with my daughter, and love her so much it's unexplainable. Let's recap: I see my daughter approximately 2 hours a day during the week, my husband even less, all so we can give her the benefit of a parent at home. We are choosing to sacrifice in this way. On the weekends, I want her to be mine, all mine, but I make sure to prioritize the time she can spend with her extended family instead, who love her so much. If I could hide away with her and Jay forever, I would. I love my daughter without a single reservation. If someone told me today that she'd live a happy full life if I died tomorrow and a miserable life if I lived to be 80, I'd choose to die tomorrow. Tell me again how I'm ungrateful?
This eats at me, bit by bit, until there are moments I really do want to wave a magic wand and transport the three of us to some hidden cave where I have nothing to do and no obligations other than watching my beautiful girl breathe and smile and sleep and scooch myself into the nook of Jay's arm and fall asleep myself. This is when I feel peace, free of the judgment and criticism of my everyday.
I really am, despite all else, so grateful for my life, for the people that love and support us and Maura. I am excited that next week we'll be going to MD to celebrate my brother's wedding. I'm excited that we've got a good plan to get us to having another child. I know we've got it so easy compared to so many others. I think maybe my openness about my life invites people to criticize it, and us, more readily. Maybe a change is in order.
I'll leave you with my favorite picture of Maura from the weekend, which shows her contentment with life better than any picture yet. We must be doing something right.
