clearframe

unfinished thoughts

Since Thea's birth nearly 11 weeks ago, my heart has swelled - not only with love for my daughter and husband, but also with months and years of stagnant emotions that were finally forcing their way to the surface of my consciousness. My mind has been racing, trying to process all of the thoughts and feelings that I had turned away from during my pregnancy, when I was too fragile and tired and fearful to do anything but get through the day-to-day.

So, now, I find myself full to the brim with all of these thoughts - of our long journey to today, of my pregnancy and Thea's birth, of my experiences as a new mother - as well as of my continuing task of discovering my dreams and passions, my journey of self-definition, and my struggle to build self-confidence, overcome my fears, and explore my creative energy.

[And yes, that giant run-on sentence is exactly how my brain feels most days.]

I've started dozens of posts only to watch them sit unfinished. I have ideas for dozens more that I haven't even begun. I'm learning to accept that I may not be able to fully form and write about these thoughts - at least not for a good while.

And then, like magic, I stumbled across the weblogs of several fantastic women who are writing about exactly the things my soul had been sifting through. I read their words, nodding my head, whispering, "yes, that's it." I am grateful for their honesty, for their willingness to share about these things that so often remain tucked away inside, for their gift of placing words together so beautifully.

So, because these women have so eloquently given a voice to these thoughts, I'll point you in their direction so you can experience this magic for yourself:

Stacie writes about giving yourself permission to pursue your own unique creative energy and encourages us to take risks and open ourselves to possibilities.

Jen Lee writes about authenticity and truthfulness.

Brené Brown writes about embracing imperfection. Her whole series on imperfect parenting is nothing short of amazing.

Jena Strong writes about the importance of hope.

Sophie's Press writes about over-thinking life instead of experiencing it.

I hope you'll go and soak it all up.

connection

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about writing. I've been thinking about the power of words - of being able to witness and share in the journeys of others as well as the importance of documenting my own story. Over the past two years, I've written about my own experiences of babyloss. And I've also compiled quite a lengthy list of blogs that I read regularly.

I read the blogs of people I know well, the blogs of people I know a little, the blogs of people I'd like to know better, and the blogs of total strangers who - other than a statistic on their site meter - will probably never even know it's me who's been there.

As I read, I'm aware of how I'm often simply a silent observer. It feels a bit strange to me to be peering into the lives of people and not making myself known. Most of the time, I want to comment, but I get held back by a lack of time or energy or by being so tired that I'm not able to string together a coherent thought. Sometimes, the authors' posts are so beautiful, moving, or inspiring that I feel like my own words are flimsy and pale in comparison. Often, a post has gotten me all stirred up inside, but I haven't really had time to process and connect with my reaction, and therefore, I'm not really sure what response to type. Sometimes I feel too shy or insecure to make myself known to a stranger.

Just this past week, the amazing Mel, author of the Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters blog, wrote about how she sees blogging as a conversation. She wrote about the importance of honoring the stories that are told and of acknowledging that a voice is heard. She wrote about listening. Mel writes:

Even when you don't have something to add, when you can't find the words to respond, I hope this year that it becomes socially acceptable and understood to simply write the phrase "I am listening" and post the comment under your name. What does this do? Sometimes, it helps to know that your words were read. That someone didn't click on and click off of your blog without processing your words. Sometimes it simply feels good to know that you're not alone, even if the other person doesn't have a solution or deep comfort. Some people may think this is lazy; a comment not worth the effort to leave or receive. But I think it can be very powerful to know that someone listened even if they have nothing to respond with in return.

I couldn't agree more.

So, I'm challenging myself to "delurk" - to make myself known - to offer a few words, even if they seem inadequate. 

I hope you'll consider doing the same.

growth

10 weeks

10 pounds, 13 ounces

23 1/2 inches

Our big, strong girl is measuring in the 50th percentile for weight and the 90th percentile (!) for height for babies of her age. It looks like she's going to be tall and lanky like her dad.

awakening

evening primrose

The other day, I was posting some photos to flickr, and I stumbled across some stunning photos. Curious, I clicked on the photographer's profile. To my surprise, the she's a senior in high school. I then realized that her little sister - just 14 years old - has a photostream too, and her photos are just as gorgeous.

It got me thinking about when I was 18, and about how self-conscious and uncertain I was - how my heart was often filled with fear, how I was constantly questioning my self-worth, how I doubted my abilities. I did not have the courage to expose my creative inclinations. In fact, I doubted that I had any at all.

It has just been in the past 5 years or so that I feel like I've started to uncover who I really am. Before that, instead of living in the world authentically, I felt paralyzed and exhausted by constantly trying to figure out what I thought other people wanted me to be. I spent a good bit of my energy trying to live up to those expectations. And I nearly lost myself.

Over the past year, I had the good fortune to be able to spend my days peering deep down into the caverns of my soul, searching for neglected dreams and unrealized hopes that may have gone missing during my years of babyloss. I worked with a life coach who helped me ask myself really challenging questions and who nudged me forward into the unknown. I sat in stillness more than I have in years. I listened to what my heart whispered. I tried my best to spend my days doing what I wanted to do instead of what I thought I should do.

For the first time ever, I found myself engaged in creative play. You know, the kind where you can separate yourself from expectations of a particular outcome, and just lose yourself in the process. This everyday creative engagement let me practice approaching my entire life in a new way. I began to see myself differently. I was able to release a good bit of the fear I have been harboring for so many years. I uncovered strength that had been buried beneath the piles of rubble that fear had littered around my heart. There is much more work to be done, but I recognize that I have come a long way. I feel lighter. I feel awake. I feel alive.

This work of excavating my spirit, of building my confidence, of embracing my unique gifts and of recognizing my individuality seems so much more important now that Thea is in my life. I want to be an example of strength and confidence for her. I want to be the kind of woman that I hope she will grow into. I want her to live fearlessly, to feel confident in the unique brightness she brings to the world. I don’t want her to be so afraid.

And so I wonder...How did self-doubt come to hold me captive? When did meeting the expectations of others become more important than being true to myself?

Who would I be today if I hadn't been so afraid?

[And what was I so afraid of anyway?]

multi-tasking

Reason #125 why you should probably not attempt to call the insurance company while holding your squirming baby:

You will most likely mis-dial the number and reach a phone sex operator instead of your dental benefits provider.

celebration

Last night, I walked into our bedroom to see John sleeping peacefully, Thea curled up on his chest. In that moment, I was aware of the fullness of my heart. I thought back to a year ago, when I was on the verge of giving up hope, when I was having difficulty believing that we would be able to bring a child safely into the world.

And yet, here we are. Each day, these two people cause my heart to stretch to new limits and teach me about the boundless nature of love. They bring light and magic to each moment of my day. My heart, my spirit are filled with gratitude.  The only place I want to be is exactly where I am.

The road to get here has been long, the journey trying.

I can't imagine doing it with anyone but him. I wouldn't want to.

Thank you, John, for sharing your life with me. Thank you for being you.

 

into the light

Last night, I dreamt that I lost her.

We were waiting for her adoption to be finalized; I was counting the days until we could bring her home. Technically, she wasn't yet my daughter, but I knew that I was supposed to be her mother.

And then she was gone. I wasn't sure how or why, but I felt certain I would never see her again.

I woke in a panic, my hands desperately searching for her. And there she was, sleeping soundly beside me.

It had all been a nightmare, a terrible mistake.

I wept, relieved, still trembling with fear.

And though she was safe - though she was right there next to me - fear gripped my heart tightly, refusing to release its grip.

During my pregnancy, fear found me on a daily basis. Sometimes it simply lurked near the surface of my awareness. Sometimes, I was nearly swallowed by its intensity. After everything, each day required a conscious decision to believe in possibilities instead of the past, to believe in hope instead of fear.

The passing weeks - weeks bringing us closer to her arrival - also brought new challenges, new complications. Toward the end of my pregnancy, John and I held each other close, whispering our doubts:

What if we don't make it?

What if we're not strong enough?

What will we do if the  unthinkable happens?

In hushed voices, we talked about death.

And now she is here. Each day, I spend hours gazing at her, marveling at her presence, often in utter disbelief that she is alive and well. And each day - at least once - {if not a dozen times} - I am gripped by fear, terrified that I will lose her.

Countless scenarios flash before me . Car accidents. SIDS. Horrible illnesses. These are just a few.

When these thoughts force their way into my mind, I attempt to bring myself back to the present. I try to pay attention to what is right in front of me. Over and over, I remind myself, "In this moment, she is safe."

But while I know that worrying about the "what-ifs" distracts me from the magic of the present moment,the fear remains - lingering, lurking, pulling me back.

And so, in those moments of doubt, I will continue to search for new ways to embrace the now, to face uncertainty, to walk out of the shadows and into the light.

cloth diapering - part deux

Thea after her bath

A few folks have asked for an update on how cloth diapering is going, and for my thoughts on the diaper service we've used. So here goes...

We just finished up our fourth week of using the service, and the diapering went well (I'm using past tense because I just discontinued the service with plans to start using our own cloth diapers). After my last post, I contacted the service and told them about Thea consistently soaking through the diapers. With our next delivery, we exchanged the preemie size covers for smalls, and we also got the next size up in diapers. We continued to use the "girl fold" and the covers. The small diapers were significantly more plush than the preemie/extra-small size, and proved to be much more absorbent.

I was very surprised at how easy using cloth was. I'm sure the ease of it had a lot to do with not having to do the wash myself. Here's how the service works:

-You contact the service to set up an account (minimum of 4 week commitment). They ask you questions about the weight/size of your baby and get you all set up with the proper size diapers.

-There are several ways to get started. You can rent covers from the service, buy covers from the service, or use your own covers. They have offer a starter kit with a diaper pail, snappi clips, cloth-friendly diaper rash salve,  diaper pail deodorizing disk, and  - best of all - an instructional CD showing you how to use the diapers and the service (the fact that they offered the CD was one of my favorite things about the service).

-Thursday is delivery day. You put your bag of soiled diapers out on your front stoop. Sometime after 7 am, the dirty diapers are picked up and fresh ones are dropped off. If you need to switch diaper sizes or covers, you put your clean diapers and covers in a separate bag marked "clean." If no exchange is needed, you mark on your soiled diaper bag (with stickers provided) how many clean diapers you are holding on to.

-Throughout the week, we just tossed the soiled diapers into the diaper pail and bag provided by the service. We never got our diaper pail but a standard 13-gallon trashcan worked just fine. Each day, I sprinkled a bit of baking soda into the pail to help with mildew and odor (but really, there isn't much odor when the baby is only having breastmilk).

-Several times a week, I washed the covers (with Thea's regular wash). I pre-treated the soiled parts with a bit of detergent to help with any staining. After treating and washing them, I hung them on the clothesline to dry.

At first, one of the biggest challenges in using the cloth was that they were so ginormous on Thea's tiny little body. Any clothes that would accommodate the bulk of the diapers completely swallowed the rest of her. The onesies were falling off of her shoulders. Baby clothes are definitely not made for cloth diapering. However, as she continued to grow and get bigger, this became less and less of a problem. Now, at nearly 9 1/2 lbs, it really wasn't even an issue at all.

One of the best things about using cloth was that I found myself using significantly fewer wipes during diaper changes. The cloth really seemed to help contain the mess. As far as wipes go, I continued to use the seventh generation wipes we had been using - I just kept an additional small (covered for protection from the pup) trashcan next to the changing table for this purpose. Once we start using our own cloth diapers, I'll use the bamboo wipes I ordered and just toss them in with the diapers for washing.

And speaking of mess, we generally went through several covers a day. No matter how I folded the pre-folds inside the covers, poo seemed to escape onto the cover. Which isn't such a big deal, really. Looking back, if I were to continue to use the pre-fold and cover method of cloth diapering, I would simply have more covers on hand. All of the "stains" washed out with the pre-treating, and I didn't find this extra step in the laundry to be overwhelming at all.

I will say that if we were going to be out and about, I went back to using our standby, seventh generation disposable diapers. For me, it was just easier.

Now, we're back to using the seventh generation diapers that we had on hand while I try to get into a rhythm that allows for the increased laundering doing our own cloth diapers will require. I already miss her little bubble butt.

Really, I can't say enough positive things about the service. The owners are friendly, extremely professional, and responsive. The CD offered in the starter pack was great. The price is comparable to using the more eco-friendly seventh generation disposables, and just cents more than using conventional disposables. The whole thing was much less complicated than I originally anticipated. If you're in Richmond or Charlottesville and are considering cloth diapering, the service would definitely be worth a try.

So, there you have it.

an opportunity for artists

My friend Slash Coleman is teaching a class on marketing for artists. Here's the scoop:

What: Two business workshops for painters, artists, actors, performers, artists, and writers taught by author and award-winning playwright Slash Coleman.

Workshop Names: Make More Money with Your Art & Marketing through My Space & Facebook
You'll Learn to: Pack Your Event, Get Your Press Release Published, Sell More Tickets, Turn Your Contacts Into Cash, Get A Grant,Turn Your Art into Real Money (AND THAT’S WHAT YOU REALLY WANT ISN’T IT?)
When: Saturday, June 21, 2008.

1pm - 4pm: Make More Money with Your Art 
4pm - 5 pm: Marketing through My Space & Facebook
Where:  Crossroads Art Center
2016 Staples Mill Road
Richmond, VA 23230
Workshop Price: $65 each. Advance reservation recommended by calling 804-278-8950.

More information on-line at Crossroads Art Center!

growth

7 1/2 weeks

9 pounds, 5 ounces

voice of the muse

self-portrait, wearing my sparkly, i-feel-pretty earrings by keen designs

What our creativity calls to us cannot wait. The images and voices of the muse are inspired in the moment. Trying to hold it back is like trying to prevent gravity from pulling on the ocean's tides.

Creativity is not designed for fitting into a mother's busy day, nor is it convenient. It may disrupt our sleep, invade our dreams, and distract our thoughts until we give it expression. If we try to stave off its advances and ask it to wait until the children leave home, we may find ourselves stranded without inspiration.

-from Meditations for New Mothers, by Beth Wilson Saavedra

Often, in the evening hours approaching bedtime, my husband will see me pecking away at the computer, and he will urge me to close my laptop, to go to sleep, to rest. And I do need to sleep. But lately, I have been compelled to write. My heart is full with raw emotions. My mind is slowly processing all of the events of the past several months. And so I write to keep this energy flowing, to continue opening those locked doors of my heart, to quiet my mind.

Now that Thea has been here for a few weeks, we are starting to settle into our new normal. Right now, this normal means that no two days look the same. I feel consumed with her - nurturing her and sustaining her in a very physical sense, but also with drinking in her simple magnificence and the miraculousness of everything that she is. And yet, I know that sometime in the future, my focus will expand, and I'll be able to start thinking about and working towards other interests.

close-up of keen earrings pictured above

It's been quite a while since I've felt truly inspired to create any  new pieces for my line of handcrafted jewelry. Each day, I walk into my studio - freshly painted and organized and just waiting for the finishing touches. I pass by the table where I work. I see all of the drawers filled with beautiful stones, the bins where I store my tools. I see projects that were started but not finished before my pregnancy required me to pause. I want to work. But even if I had the time, I don't feel ready yet. I'm curious to find out when inspiration will strike once again.

I used to think that I wasn't a creative person. That was back in the day when I mistakenly associated "creative" with "artistic." And that, I certainly was not. But as I've grown older and more comfortable in my own skin, I've come to firmly believe that I am in fact creative, and that we are all creative beings. I believe that we all find unique ways to solve problems and to bring beauty into our lives. I believe that we all have urges to create, to give birth to our own ways of existing, to guide our inspiration into the light.

I have always had difficulty in finding time to just let myself be. Yet, this is the space where my creative spark catches and bursts into a bright flame. So now, in the thick of motherhood, I'm curious to discover the new ways that my creativity will find expression.

How do you pause to honor your creativity? How do you let your spirit shine?

remembrance

my  jizo statue

Karen Maezen Miller, author of the fabulous, honest, and necessary book Momma Zen, as well as the loveliest of lovely blogs, Cheerio Road, writes today about "the hardest gone" - the loss of our children, born and unborn.

Next week, she'll be sharing words, traditions, and practices that offer guidance on embracing and coping with these most heavy of losses. She'll also be conducting services each day to honor and remember lost children. If you'd like her to include a child in her remembrance, visit her site, leaving the name in the comments section of her post.

Go. Share. Remember.

laughing

my sweetest thing

in this moment

Living in the present moment is something I've struggled with for a long time. My mind is constantly racing with endless lists of things that I've convinced myself need to be done. An ongoing  "to-do" list  is pretty much always on my desk, and, on a daily basis, I typically add more things than I cross off. I also have a (separate) list of things I'd like to do, but never really seem to find time to fit in - craft projects to try, books to read, places to visit, classes to take, blog posts to write. Our bookshelves are overflowing with books on gardening, knitting, metalsmithing, connecting with your spiritual side, making relationships work, and starting your own business, to name a few.

You see, I'm often most comfortable seeking out information, gathering facts, making lists, and planning (or reflecting, sometimes endlessly - usually on what I could have done better). And, most often, instead of over-processing every little thing, what I really need to be doing is showing up in each moment mindfully, paying attention to what is happening around me right-this-very-instant, listening to my intuition, and diving into my life head-first.  Because here's the irony of it all - I actually learn best and figure things out by doing and experiencing, not by reading and thinking and  over-complicating things with too much information.

I've tried really hard, and I can say that it has become a bit easier over the years. But it is also something that I have to work at every single day. And often, I don't succeed.

Over the past six and a half weeks, it's gotten a whole lot easier. Having Thea in my life requires that I am in the moment - pretty much all of the time. This is partly because I have so much to learn about her to be able to effectively mother her and take care of her. But it's also because she is the most amazing, miraculous thing in my life and I don't want to miss a single moment. Suddenly, what the books say doesn't matter as much as what my heart whispers. And the best way to hear those murmurs has been to put away the books and to sit quietly while my intuition speaks.

For now, the lists are gone. Right now, the only thing that makes sense is to focus on what is right in front of me. 

And yet, I know it won't always be this way. Thea will continue to grow and change and blossom into  her own person. She'll become more independent. Outings will seem less complicated. Getting together with friends will feel more manageable. We'll get into a rhythm. I'll emerge slowly back into the world. I'll resume my work. Hopefully, I'll discover new ways of contributing to the community.  I'll make more commitments.

And with these changes, I'm afraid that I'll drift back into the endless lists and the over-booked days. I'm afraid that I will return to looking outside of myself for answers when I should be searching for answers and guidance deep in the trenches of my soul. I'm afraid that I'll stop paying attention to the little, ordinary things that bring such joy into my life. I want to show up in my life mindfully. I want to continue to pay attention to the magic of the everyday. I want to do all this as I re-enter and reconnect with the big world out there.

So, I will go forward slowly. I'll try to carefully consider how I spend my days. I'll try to make sure that what is most important always comes first. I'll try to continue being guided by my intuition.

But I know it won't be easy.

So, in the midst of your busy life, how do you stay connected to the present moment? How do you find ways to slow down and enjoy what is right in front of you? How do you remember to listen to your heart? To follow your spirit?

the magic of sunshine

This morning, Thea and I started our day with a walk in the sunshine. For me, there's something about sunshine that is so cleansing, so refreshing - especially after weeks of bedrest and not getting out very much since Thea was born. That warmth is powerful, even if it is filtered through the thick humidity of a Virginia morning.

I snuggled Thea in her Moby wrap and leashed Rilo, and off we went. We walked past the coffee shop, bookstore, and yoga studio, and then headed over to my favorite street in our neighborhood, where every summer, the residents plant tons of gorgeous flowers, vegetables, and herbs in the median. Afterwards, I felt stronger, brighter, and more ready to face the day.

Other magical moments of my day included:

~  Going over 24 hours without using a nipple shield while nursing Thea
~  Watching Thea practice holding up her head on her own
~  Seeing the face of Thea's Mema (my mother) light up as Thea woke up from a nap and smiled
~  Connecting with my husband when he arrived home from work. We shared conversation and long kisses on the couch and counted our blessings while gazing at our sleeping daughter
~ Dancing and singing with Thea in the kitchen
~  Catching sight of gold finches perched on the clothes line
~  Hearing the news that Barack Obama will be the Democratic party's 2008 presidential candidate

What made your day magical?

gaining

Thea in her great-grandfather's arms.

All of our hard work this weekend paid off.

Thea is up to 8 pounds, 8 ounces - a gain of 7 ounces in 4 days.

The pediatrician was thrilled. Of course, so was I.

Right now, she's nursing pretty much all the time without the nipple shield. She even seems to like nursing without the shield much better than with it, as long as we can get the latch right.

I feel re-energized around breastfeeding. I feel like the two of us are going to make it work.

And, I wore her in the Moby wrap most of the day. It was wonderful - I got to have her snuggled close and I got to eat something besides cereal. I even cleaned up the dishes and washed a load of laundry.

I think the two of us are finding our way.

growth

6 weeks. 8 pounds. 21 inches.

That means our wee girl has grown 2 inches and gained 2 lbs since birth.

Here's what she has to say for herself:

rhythm

It's been a bit crazy around here for the past couple of weeks. John has described it much more cleverly than I could with my stressed and tired mind. But, let's just say that Thea has been exceptionally fussy. So fussy that it's sometimes all I can do to keep it together until John comes home to give me a break. Thank goodness my mother is close by and has been coming over to give me a little break.

Basically, Thea is fussy from the time we get up in the morning until we go to bed at night. When I say fussy, I mean crying frantically or outright screaming.

Thankfully, she is sleeping well at night -  going 3 to 4 hours between feedings (measured from the start of the feedings). Which means that by the time I finish feeding her and pumping, I can usually get about 2 to 2 1/2 hours of sleep at a time. Which feels like heaven. Really. 

We've worked out a little bit of a nighttime routine. I'll wake up when Thea wakes up. After I feed her, I'll wake John up so he can hold her while I pump. Usually, he can then just hand her off to me when I get back in bed, and I'll snuggle her in next to me for our next stretch of sleep. It's not exactly ideal, but it seems to work for now. For a while, I felt awful waking John up to help me in the middle of the night, but I really need as much rest as I can get to be able to take care of Thea during the day.

Before, it would take me about 1 1/2 to 2 1/2 hours to feed her, settle her down so I could pump, pump, clean up pumping equipment for the next round, and settle her again to sleep.

If you noticed the word "pump" quite a bit in the last sentence, there's no mistake. Honestly, I feel like all I'm doing is nursing Thea and pumping. I've been pumping pretty much every three hours since she was born. Six weeks of pumping every three hours.

We're currently working hard to get Thea away from nursing with a nipple shield (This was introduced to us by the lactation consultant at the hospital, since Thea was not really able to latch on very well at all at first. We've continued using the shield under the supervision of another lactation consultant, who thought it would allow us to continue to try breastfeeding while Thea's suck got a little stronger). It's been a bit of a rough transition for us, and we've been at it for a few weeks. This weekend, she has started to latch on her own much more effectively, but I'm really struggling with the balance of feeding her and pumping, since her nursing on her own has a different rhythm than using the shield. (The lactation consultant has advised that I should continue pumping until she is latching well on her own and then cut out pumping sessions slowly. It's my understanding that this is to protect my milk supply from dwindling).

So, after a rough couple of weeks, I feel like we're making progress. Part of this is that we finally figured out how to get Thea into our Moby wrap. Once she is in, she settles down immediately, and it has made the days so much more manageable. The wrap has worked miracles. Seriously.

Even John has tried it out (I haven't uploaded those photos yet).

I'm actually looking forward to the week ahead. I feel like it will be so much more manageable now that I can get her to settle down. And I'm really looking forward to being able to get a few things done.

(The Moby wrap was actually a gift, but we have no idea who sent it. There was no packing slip and I threw away the packaging too soon. If you were the lovely soul who gifted us with this wrap, please drop me a line to let us know. You have a great deal of gratitude coming your way).

Off to nurse...

a love letter, of sorts

Last Friday, when Thea was four weeks old, I bought this journal. I had been meaning to start a journal to keep track of all of her daily changes and developments, and to have something to give to her so that she could know what her first year was like (and to remind myself).

(I must confess that I did not come up with this idea on my own. I have just started reading Anne Lamott's Operating Instructions, where she journals her son's first year. And when I say I have just started reading it, that's exactly where I am - I've just gotten through the introduction.)

On Saturday afternoon, I sat down and started to write. Having missed her first four weeks, I filled several pages catching up on milestones of her first days. I promised to backtrack and fill in the details of my pregnancy, her birth, and her time in the NICU. I felt I was off to a good start.

Over the next few days, I picked up the journal several times. Just as quickly, I put it down again.

Things had been tough.

I didn't know what to say.

The only things I could think of to write about went something like this:

Dearest Thea,

Today was another tough day. You spent much of the day screaming and crying. And please believe me, you weren't the only one in tears. 

You wake up screaming, no matter day or night or how long it has been since your last meal. I think it must be very jarring for you to move from dreamland to the world of the awake. I wish that there is something I could do to ease this transition for you, but even holding you tight in my arms doesn't seem to help.

We spent most of today trying to work on breastfeeding. This has been very challenging for us. For the past few days, I have wanted to give up. It is almost unbearable for me to know that I am part of the reason you are crying - knowing that giving you a bottle or nursing with a nipple shield would settle you down, but not doing it. It's a fine balance between stretching so we can grow and learn together and stretching so far that we break.

To top it off, you must be going through a growth spurt, because you are insatiable. We will try to nurse for hours and I think surely you must be getting enough, yet you scream for more no matter how hard I try. I've been having to give you a bottle with nearly every feeding. This seems to be the only thing that will settle you down.

You also scream bloody murder during every diaper change, or whenever I need to change your clothes (which is quite often because you are quite the spitter). Some days, I feel like all you do is scream and sleep. It breaks my heart that I can't make things easier for you. Please believe me when I say that I'm trying the best I can.

I love you with all my heart.

love,
Mama

This isn't quite what I imagined I would want to write in this journal. It's certainly not what I originally had in mind for my daughter to read on those journal pages.

But it is exactly where we are.

So maybe this is what she will end up reading - the down and dirty, undisguised truth.

Maybe this is what I really need to remember.

Because while I'd like to simply celebrate each day's triumphs, the truth is that our days are filled with hills and valleys, with frustration as well as joy. After all, we're just getting to know each other.

And as tough as some days are, I cherish the process of us learning together. And I think I'd like to remember these days just as they are; I'd like to remember us just as we are.

accidents happen

This morning, I locked Thea in her nursery.

No, I didn't do it on purpose.

The door doesn't even have a lock.

For the past few days, we've been having a bit of a rough time with the nursing. That in itself is its own saga. Let's just say that this morning, I was feeling pretty exhausted and pretty burned out on attempting to breastfeed.

I had been trying to nurse Thea for over an hour, and it just wasn't working. She was screaming, and I just couldn't take it anymore, so I decided I would just give her a bottle of pumped milk. Because one of the cats and the pup had been taking a special interest in Thea this morning, I shut the door to the nursery while I went to the kitchen to get the bottle ready. I thought this would be easier than trying to hold a screaming, squirming baby and fix a bottle all at the same time.

I was gone for maybe two minutes. I came back and turned the knob to the nursery. The knob turned, but didn't catch. I tried again. No luck. A third time. Still nothing.

Thea is screaming bloody murder inside the nursery.

I panic. I rush to the kitchen to grab my phone.

I dial John. No answer.

I dial my mom. They ask if there is a lock on the door or a small hole in the knob (there isn't). My stepfather advises to call 911 for the fire department.

I dial 911.

The display on my cell phone reads "CALL NOT ALLOWED."

I try again. Same thing.

By this point, I am f-r-e-a-k-i-n-g o-u-t.

John calls back. He says he will call 911 for me and tells me to call our neighbor to see if he can help.

During all of this, I am rushing around, trying to find a flathead screwdriver to unscrew the knob on the door. I find one, and get the outside knob out. I'm ramming the screwdriver in the door, trying to push the other side of the knob out. Finally, it falls out.

The door still doesn't open.

I'm not sure exactly what I did, but after a few more seconds, the door opens.

Thea was fine. In fact, she settled down as soon as she was in my arms.

I call John to tell him that everything is okay.

As soon as we hang up, the fire truck pulls onto our street, sirens blaring. I walked outside with Thea to let them know that everything was okay. They offered to put the doorknob back together for me. I declined.

I spent the better part of the morning in tears feeling like the worst mother ever. Oh, and feeling like an idiot too.

Let's just say that my day didn't get off to the best start.

How was your day?