The Sweetest Gift

The first time I saw my chiropractor I was totally caught off guard when she hugged me at the door as I was leaving. I had never met her before and it seemed like such an unnatural thing to do. I mean, I don't hug my doctor or my tax accountant. I'm just not a hugger; but last week I saw an old friend and she gave me the best hug. It wasn't a hurried, half-hug. It was the type of hug that lets you know that you are cared for deeply.

Hi-ho, Hi-ho, It's Off to Work I Go...

I've been back at work, on a part-time basis, for a week now and several people have asked me how I feel about it. I think I probably feel the way a lot of Mom's who go back to work do; I'm torn. On the one hand, it feels great to have a reason to get out of bed and put on something other than sweats. On the other hand, I find myself putting off getting ready for work until the last minute, opting instead to spend as much time with Charlie as possible. Unfortunately, my job doesn't keep me busy enough to keep my mind from wandering back home. I text or call Micha, since he is Mr. Mom for the next few weeks, to see how things are going. The housework has fallen by the wayside because I want to spend my evenings with Charlie, Mumbles and Micha. It still feels very chaotic which is difficult for a creature of habit, such as myself. I think Charlie might be feeling the strain as well. We used to get 3 and 4 hour stretches of sleep out of him and now he's waking every two hours again, with just one long stretch of sleep. Micha, I think, is having a rough time too. He's made the comment more than once now, he understands how I felt all those times I called him desperate and crying. Despite not exactly being smooth sailing, I think my returning to work will be really good for us. It will force us to get into some kind of routine and I think that will help everyone, including Charlie feel more 'settled'.

Charlie is a two month old now and is suddenly a different baby. Instead of fussing during his wakeful periods, he now enjoys lying on his back, kicking and staring at the ceiling fan (somethings don't change). He's become even more vocal and has found is hands. I don't think he is aware yet that they are his hands, but he enjoys sucking on them none-the-less. He still doesn't sleep much (like I said, somethings don't change) but seems to be getting easier to get him to sleep. For several weeks after he was born, he still preferred to be swaddled but now hates it, even though his uncontrollable little arm often startles him awake. He prefers instead to have an arm free and we catch him rubbing his blanket or the satiny edge of his 'lovey'. We've gotten a few 'social smiles', not the one's attributed to gas but the one's that are in response to something like Dad singing a silly song or Mom smiling at him and sometimes, the fan. The sight of Mumbles also often elicits a grin.

The boy, his blankey and his bear

The Sweetest Gift- Thanksgiving Leftovers

Ok so I'm a week behind. I'm entitled!

I love going to my Grandma's for Thanksgiving, especially when everyone is there. The obvious thing to say here would be that I am grateful for my family. My sister, who often makes gifts for the one's she loves, showed me a gift she's actually making for someone else. Without giving too much away, the gift reminded me that while I didn't always do the right things, I wasn't completely horrible either. In not thinking back to those times, not only do I shut out painful memories, I shut out the really great ones too. Thanks Sis, for my sweetest gift.

The Sweetest Gift

As part of my self prescribed PPD treatment, I've decided to start a weekly ritual I'm calling "The Sweetest Gift". I'm going to try and capture one moment from the week that I am grateful for in a photograph or a short paragraph.

Wednesday night, Charlie was particularly fussy and Lily the Destroyer was up to her usual antics. I kept telling myself  "Micha comes home tomorrow. I just have to hold out until then." About that time my angel appeared in the doorway of my bedroom and asked if I'd like some chicken soup and offered to 'take a shift'. Mumbles brought me a bowl of soup and sat with her brother while I sat in my room and talked to Micha on the phone. These are my sweetest gifts.

Baby Blues Blow

So here's something I didn't think about when those two little pink lines showed up on the stick I peed on: I don't think my baby likes me. In fact, I'm pretty sure he likes the ceiling fan more than me and if it had boobs, he'd never give me a second thought. What's more, I'm not so sure I like him either. Don't get me wrong, I love Charlie. There are times when I look at him and feel so blessed, but that is usually when he is sleeping which is painfully rare. In fact, as I type this he is working on hour two of his protest and I am closer to falling asleep than he is. Adding to my current disposition is the headache that has resulted in the combination of not sleeping, listening to him cry and my own episodes of tearfulness.

Every pregnancy book you'll ever read will include a chapter about post-partum depression. It's pretty common and in fact, I suffered from it when I had Mumbles, although at the time I had no idea. I read all about it and how to avoid it and what to do if you feel the 'Baby Blues' hitting a little too hard. I know I need to eat well, drink plenty of water and exercise. I know all of that but how am I supposed to exercise when some days it's all I can do to brush my teeth? How do I eat well when I'm lucky to be able to feed myself at? How do I ask for help when all I want to do is hide in a closet somewhere dark and quiet?

I'm six weeks in and this is supposed to be getting easier, right? Life at home with Charlie is like waiting tables. Most of the time it's not a terribly stressful job but its not like other jobs where you get regular breaks to eat or put your feet up. Every moment that you aren't working is stolen and your few breaks are under constant threat of interruption. Then there are the Friday and Saturday night dinner rushes. It's then you feel as though you are just treading water and that at any moment you'll see the surface just above your head as you sink into oblivion. Don't stop, don't think, just keep treading. People in the restaurant business call it being 'in the weeds'. Then the rush is over and you are spent. That is what life is like with Charlie, only instead of working an 8 or 10 hour shift with a day off here and there, I'm on 24-7 and right now, I'm in the weeds.

After numerous exasperated phone calls to Micha at all hours of the day and night and the briefest talk with my best-friend that I believe we've ever had, I've decided I need to call the Doctor and talk with her about PPD. It's hard to admit that I'm not enjoying my maternity leave, especially when it is so close to being over. It's even harder to admit that I'm looking forward to spending time away from my baby. Guilt and hormones are a terrible combination, like cheap tequila and buffet line sushi.

My baby did not read your book.

Here we are four weeks in and I find myself saying things about Charlie like "It's as if someone has snatched my easy day time baby and replaced him with a pod baby. One that cries from one in the morning to three in the morning" or "I think Charlie is bi-polar". While I have gotten past my postpartum weepiness, Charlie is still having good days and nights and bad days and even worse nights. With Micha on the road for the majority of the work week, I'm on my own trying to cope with Charlie's down swings. I feel like sort of a one trick pony too. If a boob doesn't calm him down, I'm at a loss. I don't even know what to try (it's hard to be creative at 2 am). I've read this and tried that and what worked last night doesn't work tonight and what worked last week hasn't worked for three days. The one thing that we have learned for certain; Charlie didn't read any of those books.

What Charlie lacks in ability to fall and stay asleep, he makes up for in his ability to eat. Charlie had almost regained all of his birth weight by the time we went back to the doctor, four days after he was born. Also, he is incredibly punctual. I can almost set my watch by when he eats. Since I'm returning to work part-time in a few weeks, I decided that it was time to drag out the breast pump and try giving the bottle a whirl. Right off the bat I was able to pump plenty and Charlie took the bottle, no problem. He also went back to the boob with no trouble. Yay! It's some what liberating to know that I can leave Charlie home with Micha and not worry about getting back before he wakes up. I think it was also good for Micha. Let's face it, breastfeeding babies spend a great deal of time at the boob and that doesn't leave a ton of time for Dad to bond. Plus, I could now potentially get four consecutive hours of blissful sleep. Just the thought of it makes me giddy.

What, in addition to sleep, do I miss? I miss being pregnant. I really enjoyed my pregnancy and honestly wasn't quite ready to not be. (Although I have to admit, that first Boulevard Wheat did taste outstanding!) I miss being able to not wear a bra. I miss being able to put on an outfit in the morning and wear it all day. Now there are no less than 2 wardrobe changes because some or all of my clothes have been a) puked on b) peed on or c) some combination of both. Oh well, this kid's got personality. Most of the time that he is awake, he's either looking around so wide-eyed that his forehead is wrinkled or so seriously that he furrows his eyebrows. He talks to me (or to the ceiling fan, sometimes it's hard to tell which) and even when he's working up to a major meltdown, his bottom lip is enough to make me laugh in spite of myself.