whoops! i forgot the goods

Hmmmm...maybe I'm totally self-absorbed after all! I forgot the real goods, the Maura stats!

At Maura's four month check-up on December 29, she was 12 lbs. 12 oz. and 24 inches. She's moved up to the 24th percentile!

She continues to sleep through the night, from about 8:30 p.m to 5 or 6 a.m., sometimes longer. The key has always been swaddling her, but lately she's been breaking free of it so last night was the first night we tried without it. She went down at 8:30 p.m., and it's now 6:30 a.m. and she's just starting to stir. Success without the swaddle! Actually, the real reason we stopped swaddling her so suddenly is that yesterday she decided to perfect the back-to-belly roll, and did it like 40 times over the course of the day. We always put her down on her back, and I didn't want her to roll over all swaddled up and unable to move her arms. So, of course, the second I put her down on her back last night, she flopped right over to her belly where she's been all night. A belly sleeper like her momma! The doctor said it's fine that she belly sleeps now that she can roll over and hold her head up and such.

We also got the green light to start giving her some rice cereal, which we've done and she LOVES. She only gets like a tablespoon twice a day, but she really does seem to enjoy it. See exhibit A. We'll give it a few more weeks, then on to the good stuff like peas and bananas. Yum. Now I see why we got so many bibs. It's a messy endeavor feeding a 4 month old!


Aside from the rolling, which is so cool, Jay gets her to laugh these total belly laughs that have us both in tears. She is such a happy baby still, only cranky when she's hungry or tired. We really are lucky. Many people remind me frequently that we may not be so lucky with the next. It really has been just so much fun, and it gets better everyday.

welcome 2009

I am so fortunate at what the last year has brought me, and what the new year promises. I have an amazing husband, a loving and supportive family, a great career, a roof over my head, a dog that could lick my face until she passes out from exhaustion, and the most brilliant and beautiful daughter I could ask for. I have friends who stick by me through sweetness and stupidness. I know I am luckier and more blessed than most. Still, sometimes I struggle, and I think that's important to recognize. Because people who struggle with the life changes that motherhood brings are not naive, are not selfish, are not all the other names we get called that are accompanied by the eye roll that implies, "Well, what did you expect? Perfection? Bliss?"

I think it's no secret that since Maura was born I've struggled a bit, and it reached a head around the time of my last post, to the point where I looked my amazing husband right in the face and thought he'd be better off without me. My daughter, who I would die for, would be better off without me. After a scary few nights, I realized what was happening. This wasn't normal, I wasn't supposed to feel like I was sinking.

I called a therapist I used to see. I called my doctor. There's no shame in this. I admit it only because it's important to recognize the signs of depression and to act IMMEDIATELY. I wish a breaking point on no one. I sat here with my daughter in my arms, breathing softly, and I wept as I listened to some lovely Christmas carols I had downloaded off itunes. My favorite carol has always been "O Holy Night." I'm in no way, shape or form religious, but the sentiment of "fall on your knees, oh hear the angels voices" is one that always gets me. "Oh weary worlds rejoicing" is another. I just felt weary with myself. "Until he appeared, and our soul felt its worth." "And yonder breaks a new and glorious morn." I was so utterly moved by the idea that I finally had my daughter, the thing that made my soul feel whole, each day worth waking up to, and it was too much, too overwhelming to feel such love. Too much feeling like I didn't deserve something so great. It was beyond what I had ever touched or felt before. It truly was glorious, and I wanted to fall on my knees to rejoice in it.

Things are better now. In a few short weeks, I've come out of that place of desperation and begun to appreciate what I have. I was feeling ready to drown, and as much as that's scary to admit, I don't think it's abnormal. And I understand that it's not talked about, that it's the secret shrouded in the proud face of motherhood that we all put forth. But it was there for me, the sense that my daughter deserved better than what I could ever give her, and I'm so glad that's finally dissipating.

I'm no expert in anything, but I've experienced it all: love, loss, joy, ambivalence, and everything in between.I've made choices that I regret and think about most days of my life. I wish for her only an ounce of the heartbreak and uncertainty I've brought upon myself, but wish her tenfold the love that I feel for her, her father, my friends and family. But I am worth more than I think; my daughter can learn from me, and I can learn from her, as I do everyday. I'll never be alone again, and neither will she. Sometimes my love for her is too great to even think about.

So, I guess the bottom line is we are well. We are loved, blessed, and finally, our souls feel their true worth, because of this amazing and divine creature. Could I really have helped create something so great? Is she really part of me?

it's hard to believe

Maura's first Christmas is next week, and she'll be four months old on Sunday! While I'll never ever forget those early days with her, they seem like they happened to another person in another lifetime. Here's a peek at her now:





She is truly our joy. She rolled over for the first time last week, from front to back. She's only done it one more time after that, and I got it on video (which I tried to upload but can't figure out how). We practice a lot and she's come close a few more times. I feel like our days with a fairly immobile baby are numbered. She's got such a personality now -- so happy almost all of the time, but boy, if she's tired, you better watch it. She gets a high-pitched shriek out of that tiny mouth, and fusses like a crazy until you curl her up in your arms. It's profound how much I love her, even when she's screaming her head off. She is still sleeping thorough the night, too, which is such a blessing. She goes down by 9 p.m. and not a peep until at least 5 a.m.


She's super vocal, too, which is quite funny. I wish I could understand the stories she's telling herself that make her smile and talk the way she does. Jay even gets her to laugh, which I can't wait to see myself. She's definitely a Daddy's girl -- we had a few rough days where she didn't really want to come to me when Jay had to leave for work, and that was hard. She's definitely fussier in the evening when she's with me, but I try not to take it personally. All in all, though, we're all adjusting better with each day and it certainly is awe-inspiring to marvel at what we've created and how wonderful she is. We both say all the time that one little smile from her makes EVERYTHING better.


I've been thinking a lot (as this is what I do sometimes, to a fault) about how my fears that Maura will be taken away from me by me dying, or a plane crash, or me getting murdered, etc. stem from some deep-rooted feeling that I don't feel like I deserve to have something as wonderful as her in my life. I don't believe that "all good things must come to an end," but I do feel like I've always identified with being someone who feels like I basically deserve nothing unless I work for it. Certainly I "worked" for Maura, and my marriage to Jay is something we "work" on together, but in a very basic sense of "I'm a good person and I deserve to be sublimely happy for no other reason than I just DO" -- yeah, I don't feel that so much. But I think other people should certainly feel that way about themselves, so why don't I about my own life? I don't feel like I've screwed up royally and need to be punished by not having good things come my way effortlessly. But deep down I feel like maybe I don't deserve all this, to feel these wonderful things and to love two people as profoundly as I love Maura and Jay.


I guess ultimately it's the universe's way of bonding us to each other as parents and partners and to her as our daughter, teaching us to never take for granted a minute we have together. I feel like I would just wither and die if I didn't have them. I've never known anything quite like this. I have a lot to be thankful for this Christmas.

the cuteness continues

Sorry for the substantial lack of updates! All is well in our world. Maura is getting roll-ier and poll-ier everyday, and much to her chagrin, we've instituted a tradition of fairly frequent photo shoots to capture the cuteness. Recent highlights include:

Look at those water sausage arms!! She's doing so well. I hesitate to whisper this too loudly, but she's definitely sleeping through the night now, which is so wonderful for us. It makes Jay's job so much easier, and I have one less thing to worry about, which makes my life easier. We head to the doctor at the end of the month, but I imagine she's close to 12 lbs. now. She's finally fitting into her 3 month sized clothes (kind of) and I can tell she's growing every day. She can also hold her head up, and I think will probably be sitting on her own pretty soon. I, like every parent, think my child is advanced. Can you tell?

I'm getting a bit better about work, although most days it's still not easy. I alternate between thinking I need to just get over it and thinking that I must be losing my mind. I think, more likely, it's a little bit of both. It's no secret Ive struggled before when faced with issues about how I define myself, and it's hard for me to walk away from Jay and Maura every day and still feel like I deserve the title of mother and wife. Even though I spend every minute of my day at work clinging to memories of them, I feel like a major failure that I'm not there with them. How can I call myself a good wife and mother when instead of spending the day with my husband and daughter I go to work?

I'm sure everyone's a bit tired of my griping, so I guess the bottom line is that I'm going to buck up and realize I have it SO good; I have everything I ever wanted. And I'm lucky. And grateful.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

priceless

I am having a terrible day today missing my girl, and Jay sent this along to brighten my spirits. Clearly she's happy as a pig in shit during her Costco trip with her daddy. Isn't she the cutest?!?

on being a mom

Maura is 12 weeks old this week, and I feel like our life is finally settling. I've been sick for the past two weeks (sinus infection AND a virus) but the blessing in all of it is that I got to spend a few extra days at home in the past week or so and feel like I've finally solidified the bond with my girl. We played together, napped together, smooched and cuddled a lot, and overall, it feels like she knows I'm her momma. My jealously has subsided a bit with Jay; I know for sure we're in this together and that if we could switch roles, he would do it in a second. And it's been a greater joy than I imagined watching the two of them bond. Sometimes when I leave in the morning the two of them are cuddled in bed or on the sofa, and the misery I feel at leaving them is softened by the fact that they seem just melded to each other, like some cheesy physical manifestation of the love between them. She's a lucky girl.

I've been feeling a bit out of sorts, very much missing being pregnant with my girl. In an effort to come to some kind of peace (always a struggle for me), I've been trying to examine what I loved so much about being pregnant that didn't carry over into being a mom. Don't mistake me -- being Maura's mom and Jay's wife has brought me more love than I ever thought possible, and is a thousand million times more fulfilling then I imagined -- yet I very much miss being pregnant, carrying Maura in my belly and protecting her all by myself (and I didn't even do a very good job at that; poor thing got no nourishment from my body from 34 weeks on). I am getting more peace from being a mom than I thought I would, and it's not as if I feel something is missing, but I think I realized today what is going on . . .

(Please note I am not at all fishing for compliments here, and I know to some people I may sound delusional. Be that as it may . . .)

I have never been comfortable with how I look. My biggest issue is that I have never been anything above ordinary. I'm a little shorter than average, a little fatter than average, and while I certainly have my talents, I wouldn't be considered one that stood out in a crowd, particularly physically. My only defining characteristic was that I had big boobs, and I had those reduced when I was 20 years old so I wouldn't be defined by it anymore. But I guess since then, I've had nothing that physically gave me character. I've always done my hair a bit different, cut it short and dyed it many colors. Yet now, at 31 years old, I have finally stopped dying my hair, a trend that started when I was 14. I always wanted to be a little on the saucy side, and I so admire women who are, yet I feel like I've never quite achieved that. But yet when I was pregnant, I was SOMETHING. By belly made my thighs less ginormous (my other obvious characteristic), my belly made people smile, made people notice me, made people care how I was doing. Frankly, my belly looked better in clothes than my non-pregnant body did. Finally, I had character. I had something that defined me physically. And now, as a mom, I'm back to invisible.

I know new moms struggle all the time with their identity and that my feelings are nothing new, but it really does give me something to contemplate. I worry that I'm not as good of a mom as I could be because these stupid things occupy my brain space, and I worry more that my beautiful and perfect daughter will one day think these same things about herself, which might literally break my heart.

But it's a concern; it's there, no matter how much I try to ignore it. And I've tried everything I can: gotten some new clothes that fit my new weird body, cut my hair when needed, gave myself a pedicure. Yet in a little tiny bitty way I feel like I'm losing it.

But then, I look at myself in these moments with my daughter, moments that truly matter, moments I'll never get back, and I know that my love for her is truly more important, and more real, than any feeling of insecurity I face:
Good God I love her.

growing like a champ

We officially have a 10 lb. girl on our hands! Last week's visit to the doctor was a success, minus the first round of vaccines she had to get that made her cry her poor little head off. She's growing really well, and is even up to almost 22 inches! That seems remarkable to me that she's grown almost 4 inches in 10 weeks. Her little bones must ache! She's been having some growing pains lately we think, and I totally can understand why. She's finally filling out her newborn-sized clothes, and has jumped from the 10th percentile to the 20th for height and weight.

Her personality has also blossomed. She's smiling all the time, reacts when we make funny faces, and loves being sung to and danced around. She's such a joy. Her sleeping has gotten a bit more regular, although I don't think we'll ever get used to being so tired. She's the most portable baby I know, and loves to be taken just about anywhere. We went on an airplane last weekend for the first time to go to my brother's engagement party, and she slept through the whole thing. Jay and I still haven't recovered from an overnight trip, but its as if she never missed a beat.

All in all, things are going well. The stress of our schedule and the lack of sleep are making things a bit difficult for us to be rational at times, but I think that goes with the territory. And maybe because of stress, tiredness, hormones, whatever, I can't seem to shake this terrible habit I've gotten into of preparing myself for worst-case scenarios. It started with the terrible thought I couldn't shake for the first few weeks she was home: one day I'm going to die and leave her. I still think this daily. (Is this normal? Someone please reassure me.) But now I've started to play out circumstances in my head in which this happens. Case in point -- the airplane ride. I had planned out what I would try to do if the plane crashed. I figured that if we were on the ground, crashed and engulfed in flames, I would use all my strength to try to throw her as far as I could away from the burning rubble, thinking she would survive the impact of the throw better than she would survive the flames. In fact, I thought, if it looked like there was a way to throw her out of the plane right before impact, there would be a better chance of survival than if she stayed with me on the plane and burned. And when they found her, they would know who she was because we had registered her for the plane trip even though she didn't need a boarding pass to get on.

The next scenario is that I have her out with me on a walk, strapped to my chest in the baby bjorn. It's dark, and someone comes up to us and tries to murder me. I plead with them to let her go and they do, and they let me toss her into some bushes nearby before they kill me. Then, when they find my body, I will have been carrying my wallet on me and they will be able to ID us. But who carries their wallet on a quick walk? I never did, but because I'm so scared of this circumstance, I actually went out and bought a special wallet that has a place to hold a cell phone, so no matter what I'll always have my wallet and phone on me, my wallet containing her health insurance card to ID her. Of course, this morning I decided that wasn't enough, so I made up an emergency contact sheet, wallet-sized, with my name, her name, Jay's name and all of our info on it, in case something bad happens to me and they need to contact Jay, or if they need to ID the baby. Trust me, I understand now why people advocate for microchips to be implanted in all children with their emergency/medical/personal info on it.

Am I nuts? Could be. I've never been a paranoid person, and I've always been one to feel very safe. I took risks when I was younger that I would DIE if Maura repeated, and I came out OK. My life has never been in danger, and I've never been traumatized. I'm hoping this is just a normal (OK, maybe the far end of normal) reaction to loving Maura and wanting to protect her and that it will go away soon. Good thing I work at a psychiatric hospital if it doesn't . . .