The Yin and the Yang of it all

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The Universe has been quite…temperamental as of late.  It gives, and then it takes.  Recent examples of this include minor things involving work; and other bigger ones like the fact that my dear Dad finally decided it was time to move north so my sister and I could more easily care for him (this is huge) and then decided, on a whim, to email the lawyer who helped us put together the Power of Attorney contract when he first got sick and ask for a revocation.  Then, hours later, he apologized for temporarily losing his mind.  See what I mean?

I can usually deal with the ebb and flow.  Other times, it feels like a tidal wave about to wash me away.  The only thing I can do is take a deep breath and go with the flow.  I’m nervous about staying focused this month when the focus really counts at work.  I’m nervous about being the sole caregiver for my baby for 3 days (my busiest three days this month) without the awesome back-up that my husband provides, so that he can help drive a moving van full of my Dad’s belongings north from Alabama to Pennsylvania.  I’m nervous about surviving those three days, and then immediately hopping on a plane Friday night–our first time traveling together via plane–again solo.

Friends of mine have suggested I continue to take it day by day and I guess that’s what I have to do.  Focus when I can and know that I can only do what I can do, and that is what counts.

Tick Tock

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It occurred to me the other day just how fast time is passing by.  A typical day can be broken down like this:

Alarm goes off.  Shower. Nurse. Dress. Drop S off at Day Care.  Arrive at work.  Pump.  Meet.  Pump.  Call.  Pump.  Meet. Commute home.  Nurse.  Dinner.  Bath. Nurse. Pump. Bed.

When your days tick by like that, it’s easy to understand how suddenly it’s May.  How suddenly I have an 8 month old, I’m still struggling with my job, my milk supply, my housekeeping, and making time for my marriage.  

Still, there are those moments that are timeless and I find the urge to hold onto those as tight as I can.  Moments when, after I have been working all afternoon (ON A WEEKEND), I come home to discover my sweet, blonde little baby playing quietly on the floor.  He doesn’t notice that I’ve come home until I call “Hi Sam,” at which point he turns every which way until he finds where my voice is coming from.  His excitement is not only obvious, but instantaneous.  And I pretty much melt. right. there.

The reason I breathe at all.

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My dear Little Dude,

You are almost 7 months old and you amaze me no less than 442 times a day.  You have so much to show us and tell us and when I look into your eyes, I can see that you want to communicate with us as much as we want to be communicated with.  You are happy almost constantly.  Even when you are sick, you are so smiley that even the doctors are baffled when they discover an ear infection.  You love laughing, dancing, singing.  You are the perfect blend of tenacity and happy-go-lucky.

In short, you are joy personified.

It was not possible to comprehend love prior to you and sometimes I feel as though my heart could stop in one hundredth of an instant if you ceased to be.  Then you look up at me with the bluest of blue eyes, the pinkest of pink cheeks, and a smile that could turn stone into oatmeal and I remember that you are the reason I breathe at all.

 

 

The Devolution

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I’m not lyin’, ya’ll.  When I wake up in the morning, I look like a friggin’ sex goddess.  My wild, tousled curls trail down my back, my lips are plump, and my DDs are ROCK HARD.  But alas, when I wake up looking this way it is 5:30 a.m. with nary person even remotely awake enough to appreciate it.

Sigh.

By the end of the day, my clothes are stained with breast milk from some drippy pumping accident or a leak and my hair is pulled up into a pony tail or bun because it drives me nuts.  I immediately change out of my work clothes into yet another pair of sweat pants something more comfortable so that I can nurse the little dude.  Once the game of “are you gonna take this breast or not?” has concluded, I wrap myself in a bathrobe and take the baby downstairs in pursuit of sustenance.  By the time I’ve eaten dinner, given our guy some oatmeal or rice cereal (he’s on solids ya’ll!), and had a few down minutes, it’s time for bath time, a top off before bed.  Ya’ll, I’m a hot mess by 8:30 every night and completely exhausted.  Gone is the hot mama with the bed head and the boobs.  In her place stands a haggard, frizzy, saggy and just. plain. tired. me.

It’s all so temporary

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Shhhh…I should be working right now.  My inbox is full, my to do list is long.  Yet, for atleast 1.5 hours a day, I shut my office door, close my blinds, and enjoy some good old fashioned “me time”.  Part of me feels guilty.  Part of me feels stressed and like I should be using my time more wisely.  But then there are moments like this one when I think to myself “Self, You do A LOT.” and I cut myself some slack. After all, I am technically working when the office door closes–I’m working on physically producing and extracting food that another human being depends on for survival. Plus, I’m up earlier than everyone else in my house, I get everything organized to make sure we can all get out the door at a reasonable time each morning, I am “on” at work all. the. time., and I race home to an evening routine that involves no alone time for me what-so-ever.  I’m at the office or I’m at home and unless I’m enjoying the 3 hour stretch of sleep my no-longer-sleeping-through-the-night baby boy offers me each night, I don’t exactly get to relax like I did in my old life.

All that to say that being back at work has certainly added a new layer of…um…excitement? Stress? Exhaustion?  Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.

I used to feel like I knew things.  I felt confident, and I felt like my life had just the right balance of predictability.  Most days lately, I feel like I know very little about anything and the only thing predictable about my life is that I can count on not being able to predict anything.

Wowsas, do I know how to paint a bleak picture or what?  Someone pass the Zoloft.

It is a learning curve more than anything. I’m constantly adjusting and getting used to this situation because it’s constantly new.  Nothing stays the same for more than a few days (weeks if we are lucky).  There have been nursing strikes, sleeping strikes, pumping issues, and the never-ending cold that has plagued all three of us. But, if I’m being completely honest (and if I can’t be completely honest on my own blog, what’s the point?), I’m 100% totally and utterly in love.  Getting up at 1 a.m. to nurse a hungry baby who doesn’t want to latch because his nose is too stuffy (there’s only so much one of those bulb syringes can do) and ends up screaming in your face while you stare at him with the bleary-eyed haze of someone who knows all too well that this night may end up being the longest night of their lives isn’t my my idea of paradise.  But I tolerate it because I love him…and because I know this part is temporary. My spirits lift and my heart breaks because it is all so temporary.

Tomorrow at this time

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I will be sitting at my desk at work, scratching my head and trying to figure out just what it is I used to do and where on earth I begin trying to do it again.

Today, though, I am planted on the couch, still in pajamas with a cup of hot tea and laptop within reach and the sweetest sleeping baby in my arms.  There’s laundry to do, errands to run–all in preparation for the return to work and Sam’s start of “school”.  For now though, sitting, holding, and sweetly kissing is the only agenda I need.

A few words about 2011

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I’m not the hugest fan of those New Year recaps that happen all over the place this time of year.  Still,  this year, this 2011 thing somehow became the most important and life changing year of my 32.  It feels right to acknowledge just how amazing and completely trying these 12 months have been.

2011 began with some good stuff: My Dad started the year on a healthy upswing (no small feat following several strokes and some COPD at the end of 2010) and within the first week of the year, the hubs and I finally saw TWO pink lines on a pregnancy test.

Then, there was Dad’s heart surgery and strokes.  We were all convinced that he wouldn’t make it to his 80th birthday in May, let alone Christmas.  And yet, he made it through.  To this day, he is well enough to cause plenty of trouble–a sign that he is healthy, albeit a lifelong troublemaker.

Spring and summer brought more wonderful things.  I spoke at a national conference for my organization in front of an audience of 250 people.  The lights were hot, I was nervous, and my feet were so swollen, my shoes barely fit.  But I made it through with lots of compliments and kudos (some even from the President of the national organization!).  I grew more professionally this year than I thought possible.  I became a leader, and it felt stressful and challenging, but rewarding and fulfilling all at once.

Along came Samson (aka Kid Vicious) in September. We had lots of scares during the pregnancy, and during delivery learned he was wrapped in the umbilical cord 3 times.  It was also discovered that I have a bicornuate uterus (heart shaped), which went undiagnosed.   There is only a 63% live birth rate with that, so imagine our elation when he was delivered and was absolutely perfect!

His first few days of life, our first few weeks as parents–they were exciting and amazingly hard times.  Sleep deprivation.  Lots of visits to the lactation specialists.  Baby blues.  Insecurities.  Tears.  Smiles.  Belly laughs.  Snuggles. The list goes on.  He is nothing short of the most joy and the biggest challenge I’ve ever experienced.  I’m amazed and awed by the person he is.  I can’t believe he grew INSIDE OF ME. I MADE HIM.  And he’s cool!

If you would have asked me a year ago what 2011 had in store for me, I’m sure I could not have comprehended the half of it.  But I wouldn’t give a second of it back.

Happy New Year to you all!  Here’s to an incredible 2012!

Love,

‘BOTB