Back to Work

Hello Fragment 54!

Back to work. Fiona and I left you at 2 weeks because...well, Fiona decided that life was more important than a blog. But now she's almost 9 weeks old, practically grown up (or at least grown out of her newborn clothes) :)

I can't imagine only having had 6 weeks to learn how to do this thing called, parenthood and specifically for me, mommyhood. At that point I was just finally feeling recovered physcially, we were just starting to go to bed at a regular time, and there wasn't even a glimmer of routine to our days.

It amazes me that children and parents aren't afforded more together time in our society. We place so much emphasis on our children getting a good education, finding the right home in the right place, making sure that they hang out with the 'proper' people....but childhood itself isn't prioritized in our country. We simply are making sure that our children progress quickly into adulthood which means, at 6 weeks, forcing moms back into the workforce, forcing 6 -week babies into a childcare routine, and forget about what we do to daddies...who are forced back to work before the baby has barely opened her eyes (so he gets baby time when mommy is exhausted, baby is tired of mommy, and daddy is stressed from work)!

Instead of finding a place for childhood routines in our lives we are forced to put childhood into our economic routines of livelihood.

Last week I was stressed. Fiona doesn't take a bottle, refuses a pacifier, and (last week) was just barely pushing 3 hours between feedings). I was so overwhelmed because I just felt that at 7 weeks she should be doing all this stuff....I mean, what if I were forced to leave the house to go out for work.....

And then I snapped out of it (after some hours/days of worrying on some phone calls)... Because I am lucky, I don't have to go away to work...my work is here, writing. So, I took away the bottles and made the pacifier simply an option. I focused on pushing her a bit between feedings (because its good for her) but we followed her naptime schedule.

And lo and behold, this week we are onto a routine. Not every day and not perfect and there has definitely been some screaming and crying (and not only by the baby) But she's happy. And believe it or not, I worked on the freaking dissertation....and I'm happy. We go on walks in the morning, we sweat it out under the air conditioner and do yoga in the afternoon. I write when she is playing by herself. I check email and blog when she needs me to entertain her.

(the dog is getting a little bit ignored...I'm not perfect yet...and Daniel still comes home to a messy house and sometimes little in the way of dinner...but that's getting better)

But gosh we are so darn lucky....because we are going back to work on our own terms....and not some arbitrary 6 weeks decided by government committee.

Now, if only daddy could join us!

Fiona is Two Weeks Old- ALREADY!

Counting

If I had to sum up pregnancy with one word it would be

counting.

OH I know, it should probably be something more about growth or development or even something virtuous like patience or moderation. And, yes, it

is all these things. One might even call it an education. Actually, I wo

uld call it an education -of self, of other, of the cosmos.

But truly what it comes down to is counting. Months, Weeks, Days,

Hours, Minutes. Kicks, Hugs, Smiles. Centimeters, Calories, Pounds. Onesies, Diapers, Washcloths. Bank Accounts, Bills, Insurance Premiums. Tears -oh the tears. Belly laughs. Number of Miles traveled by moms and grandmoms. Miles to the Hospital. Breaths. Beats in a Yoga Pose. Contractions. Thank You Notes. Receiving Blankets.
Trips to the Bathroom in One Freaking Hour. The Clock ticking at 3 in the morning when the rest of the house is asleep.

Yes, Counting. And as Daniel and I (and I think the entire rest of the worl

d) await a new birthday (sometime in the next 19 days) I post a little bit of a picture count in celebration of week 37...full term!

The Winds of March

Today it's cold outside and very gray. And yet the crocus have bloomed, the forsythia is a burst of yellow in the back and the daffodils are peeking their pointy heads out. My strawberry plants survived the winter and are rising above the leaf bed in the garden. My lavender is turning green and there are blooms on the pachysandra.

This is March. The month where the wind blows cold but the sun beats down warm and the sky changes each and everyday.

It has also been the month where I have experienced the most up and down period of this pregnancy.

I was hospitalized 3 weeks ago for severe contractions coming every 2 minutes apart. So the staff did everything they possibly could to keep the baby stable and in. They were completely successful and we came home safe but exhausted. I was in a lot of pain and very weak so my mother has come to take care of me which has allowed Daniel a chance to breathe and myself a chance to recover.

But now, it's week 36 and next week we all start wishing the baby out! I feel like the last 3 weeks have simply been one large pendulum on which I have had no choice but to hang on and swing. Nothing tragic happened, nothing horrible and yet I have a sense of loss. This loss has nothing to do with grief so I don't want to over dramatize it or ask for sympathy but I feel that it is important to mark.

Because 3 weeks ago I was charging ahead on my dissertation, I was writing every morning, commuting to the city for my job, swimming, trying to stay energized. And now, I find myself weak after a walk around the park (mom takes me for a walk every day to keep my legs and back strong), I fall asleep after a round of yoga (I'm still hoping for a natural birth so I want to keep limber) and I ache after the simplest of tasks.

I slept through most of week 34 and I think that's where the lack lays still.

Somehow in that week of recovery I found myself in a new position...one where the baby and I were not any longer in a battle of wills of which desire, need, or emotion would win the day but one in which the baby wins -every day, hands down, no question, I'm not even in the race anymore.

And I know -that this is part of parenting- that children take precedence and run your life and all the thousands of things that everyone since I've announced we are having a child has wanted to tell me "oh the trauma of having children!!"

But I'm not writing about the surprise at the feeling. I am trying to find a way to describe the feeling -not to overcome it but to understand it, to feel it fully. Right now, I still find myself lacking words, lacking the emotions even.

Also it is not enough to complain about it -this lack of control, of personal space -what do "we" do with it once it has possessed us.

I can't believe that it is enough to simply make it a cliche, "children run your life". Instead, as a part of the human condition -as a part of the familial condition we have a choice in our response to it.

And I ask as the March winds blow colder-what will mine be?

Love in Feb.

Daniel and I don't celebrate Valentine's Day. We never have. Okay, scratch that...we don't celebrate Valentine's day together....My mother loves Valentine's day and always sends a card and a box of homemade Valentine cookies...and Daniel and I eat them UP! We love them and we always love our card. In fact, the cookies were so good this year I didn't remember to take a picture of them all laid out until they were all gone! Thanks mom!

This is just to say that although Valentine's day came and went for us this year as it does every year, we had a most magical month full of love. My dear lady friends from NYC and NJ threw a fabulous shower for me and reminded me that even here, in this cold state far from old friends and family we are surrounded by people who care. I've had people walk me to the subway in the freezing sleet/slush/snow making sure that I do not fall on my butt. I've had offers for friends to watch Pascal if we have to run to the hospital quickly. It is SO VERY good to feel loved.

The baby has shown me some love too. She now kicks for some favorite songs and books and she seems to have figured out that her momma is in pain if she lays her head into my round ligament. My new favorite move is feeling her kick when I'm swimming on my back. It's like we are both saying, "we love love love the water! and the water loves us back!"

Daniel, of course, cannot stay still so he has tirelessly created the nursery/office henceforth known as the noffice. This has been a labor of love. His favorite books went away and then he let me PAINT one of his bookshelves!!! He fixed up a wardrobe for the baby (I'm not sure that there was any love shed on the doors..they were a pain). He's put up the crib, assembled the high chair, and then last night of all things he finished the floor to our bedroom so now the entire upstairs has a new clean splinter free floor.

I've tried to remain vigilant about my writing but I took a break over the last week to create some nursery art. I love these little owls, I saw them online for 45 dollars a piece and then once I enlarged the picture I said....I CAN DO THAT! So I broke out the paint, the collage paper and some glue and I think they turned out okay! And I think the frames were a dollar, I painted them with leftover primer and the paper ran me about 5 bucks...so I just saved around 120 dollars! And I LOVE saying that!

I sit here in the Feb.'s last hurrah of a snowstorm and await the spring (which I also love and feel I shall adore it doubly this year).

Love to all,

Stephanie

A Letter

Dear _____________:

Don't:
give me horror stories about your labor (does it look like I need stories of pain)
give me advice about raising children (did I ask for it)
tell me parenting is difficult (did I say to you that it looked easy)
tell me to work my ass off for the next 10 weeks (does it look like I'm not?)
ask me my weight (unless you want me to ask me yours)
tell me that I look huge for my 'month' or small for my 'month' or anything for my 'month'
touch my belly.

Do:
give up your sit on the subway for me
tell me to hang in there
ask me how I'm feeling
share the last piece of chocolate cake with me
ask me if I need anything
walk a bit slower when I'm walking next to you
offer a hand over an icy patch of sidewalk.

All the best,

Stephanie.