TRUMP

Today Sadie was crying on the way home from the Green City Market and we saw something we have never seen before, which is going to change the whole power structure of our family. Yes, we saw Sadie's first tear. I have never seen anything so sad as my daughter laying on her back looking up at me with a huge tear rolling into her ear. I forgot she was going to get tears and it was a real shock to see them. We tried to take a picture of her first tear, but it was rolling too fast to capture on film.

Tears? Tears? How can I ever win an argument or hold a boundary when a little tear is rolling down that perfect, full, delicious little cheek?

Also,

Weisbluth and his sleep book can kiss my ass. On one page it says, "Never wake a sleeping baby," and a few pages later it says that if long naps disrupt nighttime sleep, then you have to wake your baby up from the long nap. And that's just one of the contradictions.

The reason why we know about the above-referenced contradiction is because our little yogi fell asleep yesterday at 4:15 p.m. and didn't wake up until 8:30 p.m. I was completely flummoxed because she usually goes to bed at 7:00 p.m. We decided not to wake her up and it was probably a good decision, since she slept great until 4:00 a.m and then fitfully from 4:00 a.m. until 6:00 a.m.

Note to baby book writers: If you want to be THE source for the new parent, do NOT have contradicting information in your book; it's hard enough to be desperate, sleep deprived, and hormonal without you giving me 100 shades of gray.

Busy, busy

Sadie has been hard at work learning how to read and getting caught up on current events. It's hard to tear her away from the newspaper in the morning to get her to do her tummy time. She's particularly interested in the missle testing that Iran is doing and domestically, she's developed a little fascination with John Edwards. She refuses to read about Madoff, but she can never resist a story about how the members of our armed forces paid the price for Bush's war.

Going to be hard to keep up with her.

September's Twilight

September was a big month for Sadie-- she visited Starbucks and Target for the first time, crossed the state line into Wisconsin, went to her first shopping mall (Old Orchard), attended mommy-and-baby yoga class, and she began showing signs of real potential to sleep through the night. This is a great baby, I'm telling you.

At her doctor's appointment on September 24, we learned that she is 11lbs 11oz, which is so close to the magical 12lbs, where allegedly babies can sleep through the night. Not sure about that, but on September 26, Joyce and I put her to bed at 6:45 p.m. and she slept until 4:20 a.m. I went into her room about 5 times to be sure she was still breathing, but now that we know she can do that, her little wake up through the night tricks are not going to work on us. Ok, they totally still will, but we'll always have September 26th!

She also started liking the bath. Well, actually it's the shower and we get in there and hold her and scrub her down and she squeals with joy! It's so much fun to hang out with her as she is discovering the parts of the world where she can experience pleasure and joy and new sensations.

We are also learning some hard lessons as parents. Turns out that every person who has written a parenting books thinks that her or his viewpoint or cause is the most important. We invested in a sleep book that I am vowing not to read cover-to-cover because it's very rigid and will drive me nuts. It's also not interested in anything except sleep, so the author is basically like "screw the attachment parenting and screw the La Leche League, your kid must sleep or she will end up in an insane asylum." It's a little too doom and gloom for me, though I have peeked at some of the charts and suggestions and even tried a few. We usually try to keep Sadie up until 7:00 pm, but the book said try to have a bedtime a little closer to 6:00 p.m. Well, last night I tried it and it seemed to work great. Sadie went right to sleep at 6:15 p.m. and slept for six hours before waking up to eat. It would be nice if there was one solution that didn't require me to sit vigilantly waiting for Sadie to display the first signs of possible fatigue all day long and then stop everything to be sure she gets optimal, motionless sleep in her crib, but mama has needs to and getting out of the house (with and without Sadie) is really important to me and my mental health.

I was able to have a gigantic appreciation and gratitude attack for Sadie this morning during mommy and baby yoga class. There were babies there who were younger than our demure 9-week old Sadie, and some of them were fussing wildly like Sadie used to do. I remembered how stressful and upsetting it was to hear all that crying and to be unsure of how to deal with it in public. A baby friendly yoga class is as good as being at home, but it's still stressful to watch other mothers doing sun salutations while their babies coo beatifully by their sides as your own baby wails as if she is being tortured in some way. For her part, Sadie just looked around and watched me try to stretch my body for the first time since the C-section. When she got a little bit upset, I nursed her for 5 minutes and she fell asleep for the rest of the class. It was very helpful to see other mothers dealing with their babies at various ages and to hear stories about the weeks to come.

I think the yoga really mellowed Sadie out because when we got home we sat on the couch reading for a long time. She usually wants to be up on her princess perch, but she was content to sit on the couch and read US Magazine with me. (Should I lie and say it was Middlemarch or The Economist? It wasn't-- it was all about Jessica Simpson's life in shambles and MacKenzie Phillips' shocking allegations about her father's poor sexual boundaries.) Not exactly approved by Dr. Sears or the American College of Pediatrics, but damn, I just had to see those outfits from the Emmy's one more time.

Happy 2 Months of Life

Dear Sadie,

Happy 2 months of life! I can't believe the miracle of you. I have no words and we have yet to find a single picture that alone stands for how much you have changed my life for the better. The sound of your voice learning to make sounds and communicate with us (also known as cooing) and the sheer vibrancy of your little spirit are a force like none other I have ever known. I love you madly and am so happy to be your mom. I look forward to many more months with you and I think we all did a good job these first 2. Once I figured out that you really did need your diaper changed about every 2.5 hours. It sure has been uphill since then, kiddo.

You are the greatest gift ever. I pray to be the mother you deserve.

I love you and your perfect, scrumptious little cheeks more than I can say.

OXOXO,

Mama

SPOKE TOO SOON

Sadly, I spoke a little too soon when I was waxing eloquently about how sad I am that Sadie sleeps through the night. And, while she may be very close, last night she treated us to her company at 12:00 a.m., 2:30 a.m., 4:00 a.m., and 5:00 a.m.

She's so damn cute I almost don't mind, but then again, sleep is really, really grand when I can get it.

Multi-tasking

Here's mom rocking the multitasking. Exhibit A for Sadie if she ever enters therapy. She can support any claim that I didn't pay 100% attention to her all the time. In my defense, it is the Sunday Styles section of the NYT.

Crib Notes

Time: 6:43 p.m.

Day: Sunday

I just put Sadie to sleep for the night (we hope) in her crib. She nursed for one hour and was so tired so the time seemed right. Jeff put her in her crib to nap this morning while I went to spin class, and she seemed unphased when I put her to sleep this evening. We have the CD of "falling rain" cranked up to soothe her and to deflect all the noise we make one floor below-- we're clumsy and someone always drops a fork on the way to the dinner "table" or the couch as it is more properly called in our house. It's weird to have her sleeping, but not in our room. I was able to fold some clothes and lay out an outfit for tomorrow -- for the big outing to therapy where one needs the right outfit to project inner peace, but not so peaceful that I didn't need to drag my ass out of bed to take public transportation to see a doctor about tweaking said inner peace. Tell me that's an easy outfit to find!

She seemed a little cranky today, which I totally respect, because I am not a huge fan of Sundays. Never have been. I find Sundays mournful, a little boring, and I tend to get all out of sorts during the long afternoon stretch. Looks like Sadie was feeling some of that today after our lovely morning walking to the farmers' market and having brunch at Feast. Neither one of us seemed to get any pep in our step today, but maybe a night after some great crib sleeping will restore the umph in the house. I think we have to work on our Sunday routine; I think we may be a little isolated so we are thinking of mixing things up and being more social on Sundays. I am open for ideas. We still count our blessings that she loves the Baby Bjorn so we can walk for miles with her in it. We know she's technically too young to be riding face forward, but if we so much as suggest that she ride facing inward she wails so loud I think I could get arrested for cruelty to a child. So we just hold her head and put some padding behind the straps and hope that we can avoid any "well meaning advice" from someone pointing out that we are doing it wrong, because believe me, I have plenty of that in my own head, thank you very much.

And, as for her little sun hat, it's only about 3 sizes too big. We have tried to find one in her size, but you wouldn't believe how hard that is. I am sure it will only get harder as we sink into the fall months and prepare for winter. Our hospital told us never to expose the baby to direct sunlight so you would think there is a huge market for items that will cover a baby while out during the daylight hours. Don't tell me that retailers think that parents aren't taking their children out in the sun-- that can't be, but we can't find a hat and I will be doing extensive on-line searches this evening to see if we can't find her something better than a hat that makes her look like one of the Golden Girls.

Anyway, I resisted the urge to get into my pajamas tonight at 4:00 p.m. like I did last night for our rocking Saturday night watching the last hour of the Tina Fey vehicle, Baby Mama, which I slept through when we first tried to watch it on Thursday. We were all in our pajamas pretty early here, but it's a gray Sunday so we leaned into the whole Day of Rest mythology and watched some E! Television to see who's wearing what at the Emmy's.

We are heading towards Miss Sadie's ninth week of life. Tomorrow marks 8 weeks since we got home from the hospital. If you ask me my favorite part of being Sadie's mom, I would say that the opportunity every single day to bring her comfort is the highlight of the whole thing. I used to freak out when Sadie would cry and now I take those opportunities to tell her exactly what I would like to hear when I am freaking out: "You are safe. Mommy is right here. Everything is just as it should be. You have everything you need. All is right in the world. It's healthy to cry and let the feelings out. I am proud of you. I love you. You are perfect." I love it when she finally settles down and seems to be hearing what I am saying and believing me. I actually believe what I am saying. She is safe. She does have everything she needs, and if not, we'll get it for her. All is well in the world. It is ok to cry and be upset. There is something so sublime about sharing that comfort with Sadie and creating a world where my words are true.

Perspective, It's All About Perspective

Last week was a great week in the life of the Tate-Ellis family. First of all, we visited our friend Nicole, who had twin sons (Jack and Max) three weeks ago. Sadie looked like a giant baby next to the little guys and we certainly have a much greater appreciation for what it means to have only one child at a time. Jack and Max are adorable little love bugs and still it looks like demanding work to have twins.

On Thursday night Sadie did something very, very strange. She slept, and slept, and slept. I almost want to say she just about slept through the night. We put her to sleep at 7:20 p.m. and didn't really hear a peep out of her until about 2:45 a.m. Then, I fed her until 3:15 a.m. and she slept again until 6:45 a.m. It was hard not to run into her room screaming, "who is this imposter baby?" but it was our dear sweet one just snoozing the night away. And, of course, I have a theory about this. Friends of mine suggested that sleeping near me, so close to the breast, might keep Sadie awake because she can sense that the breast milk buffet is only one foot away. So, during the Thursday night sleep fest, I decided I would sleep on the couch one floor away to see if she would stay asleep longer. Jeff, the mensch that he always is, decided that he would join me on the couch instead of going down to the first floor for an uninterrupted sleepapalooza. Every time I go upstairs and sleep right next to her co-sleeper (side car for the big people bed) she wakes up within 15 minutes of me getting settled. This business about babies being so sensitive is not a crock of hooey; it appears to be real and operating in our family.

Tonight our dear doula comes for her 11 p.m. - 7 a.m. shift so that Jeff and I both can retire to the first floor for some uninterrupted sleep. I have to say I approach this "scientific" information about Sadie sleeping better the farther away I am from her with great ambivalence. On the one hand, what parent of a little baby wants to hold on to those ragged nights of on-edge catnapping where your nerves get shot as you assume your baby is going to cry at any given moment? Those nights are long and grueling even if the baby ends up sleeping; they are grueling precisely because you never know. And, for all the havoc that type of "sleeping" wreaks on a family, it's still precious. Maybe I can say that because I am optimistically assuming those days of waking up 5 times every night may be becoming part of Sadie's young past. But, some real bonding among me, Sadie and Jeff happened in those nights. We had our little system that we constantly modified in response to Sadie's ever changing needs/personality. Obviously, I will still feed her in the middle of the night and cherish each moment of bleary-eyed snuggling, but the bigger point is that at 8 weeks old, Sadie is already passing through stages. It's time to let go of the super-chaotic newborn sleep gig (here's hoping) and look into some separation at bedtime.

As with almost every single thing associated with this experience (and, frankly, most others as well), I have to let go of my preconceived ideas. I was up for having Sadie in my bedroom for a long time. I didn't mention this to Jeff-- who has been excited to test out the baby monitor that will allow us peace of mind when Sadie is about 10 yards away in her own room-- but I was thinking she'd bunk up with us for at least 6 months. I had visions of her sleeping in her little co-sleeper next to me and visions of her needing me that close to her for months. It appears, however, that she sleeps better and longer if I get up off her grill and give her some space. I feel some sadness about that. It's yet another example of having an idea of how an ideal mother-daughter relationship would unfold between me and Sadie that's really just an idea. In reality, it's probably healthier for everyone to (1) get more sleep; (2) accept separation when Sadie demonstrates she's ready and it works for her; (3) that the parents have physical proximity to one another during the night and not the parent-child; and (4) that I be willing to have my ideal, but also be willing to adapt when it proves that it doesn't produce the best outcome for our family.

She's such a great baby and so perfect for us. We love everything about her. If this sleeping thing is for real, I am nominating her for baby of the year. If this sleeping thing was just a fluke, I am still nominating her for baby of the year. She's the littlest love of my life.

What's in the Water

Today, I realized that before I had Sadie, there was a 4 week stretch when me and 4 of my 7 bridesmaids were pregnant. You know what that means? It means there's a shitload of hormones going around my circle of friends so TREAD LIGHTLY. It also means there are cravings and nausea and freak outs galore, which I actually am grateful for because they keep me from feeling like the lone friend going berserk here out on a limb. There's lots of people I love out on limbs so be careful when you shake the tree-- there may be a contagion of falling women whose hormones are rising and falling faster than the reputation of one Kanye West.

We had a brilliant day today. Sadie took a scrumptious 3 hour nap this morning and then we took a family stroll to have lunch. The real cherry on top was when we went to the Levi store to buy dad some new jeans. If you knew the state of Jeff's jeans prior to the purchase at the Levi's store, you would understand why it was so glorious to see him shimmy into, and actually approve of, the Levi 559's. I am proud of him for buying 2 pairs and cannot wait for him to put them on for our date night, when I hope occurs before 2020.

Actually, one of the benefits of having friends who are in the family way, in addition to the shared psychosis, is that we hope they will want to babysit for us to "practice" before having their own little ones. This strategy will only work on first-timers, but we hope to leverage it to our advantage. After all, we are honeymooners.

And, speaking of strategery, today I was holding Sadie and looking at her face while she was evacuating her bowels and you know what? She looked EXACTLY like George W. Bush. You may not believe me, but there was this sort of loopy look on her face and she had a furrowed brow and I swear she looked just like our previous president. Hey, don't blame me, I voted for Obama.

The Relaxation Gene

I am so happy to report that Sadie got the relaxation gene. She clearly got that from Jeff, because my idea of relaxation is to run to lay down after a 15-hour day of work, exercise, self-care, and socialization.

Not so little Sadie. She likes to lounge and I like that about her! She likes to hang out in the Bjorn and in our arms and as long as we are holding her correctly-- in the "Princess Perch," where we face her out and create a perch for her with our arm-- she's happy to hang out until her next feeding, or if she is inclined to even deeper relaxation, her next nap.

She actually does seem to be a pretty chilled out LP. Jeff calls her TLP for "the little person," because we are sort of surprised how much she is a little person. It's unbelievable. She's persnickity about a few things, but so long as we comply, she's just smiley and relaxed and it's a thrill to be around her.

Yesterday, we went to visit our friend Nicole, who had twin boys 3 weeks ago. We thought Sadie was so small and fragile until we saw what 8lbs babies look like. Of course, Sadie was born at 8 lbs, but now she's a blazing 11lbs and counting. I thought she was getting heavy to hold, but I can't tell from looking at her on a daily basis, but when we put her next to Nicole's sons, it was amazing to see how she's grown. Our third pediatrician visit is next week (for her 2 month birthday) and I can't wait to get official confirmation of her weight and height. She still seems really long and lean to me -- again, more from her dad's side, those long, lean Ellis'.

This weekend was great fun. We did an elaborate photo shoot, the pictures from which I will post very soon. She's got so much personality and it's so fun to see it in pictures. She can go from smiling to crying in less than .05 seconds, and vice versa. Now, there is some mommy in that for sure! She's found her hand and loves to suck on it. She also loves the Baby Bjorn, as long as she's facing out, so we've been cruising around the neighborhood getting out and about.

I have been getting some exercise, which seems important these days as my moods seem a bit erratic. To be fair, it's still a huge time of transition-- I have only known Sadie, our new roommate and lifelong companion for less than 2 months. Also, I am still digesting that my long-time therapist has prostate cancer. It's not really all about me, but for the parts that are about me, I find the whole Therapist With Cancer theme as a potential obstacle for my trust issues. I haven't seen him since the surgery that allegedly led to the removal of said cancerous prostate, but he's supposed to be back in the office on Friday. Can I just say that I am quite nervous about the first post-prostate-removal meeting? What am I supposed to say? I can imagine making a joke to break the tension or to front the issue? I have been resisting the urge to research prostate cancer on-line because I am afraid of what I will find. In addition to finding articles that will ensure my greatest fear: He will die and I will be a new mom with no therapist, I will likely find out about impotence and urinary issues. Now do I need that?

No, I do not need that.

Anyway, the whole thing has been a very upsetting and harsh introduction to cancer. I have never had any first-hand experience with it. I keep wishing I could nominate someone else to have cancer, not my primary support outside of Jeff and my someone so important to my life. Couldn't God have picked someone less important to my life? I know, it's very unseemly to wish cancer on the lesser service providers in my life and I am doing nothing to help my already besmirched karma, but Jesus, my therapist? That's harsh. That's really harsh.

Instead of sitting around weeping and wondering how I will manage breast feeding annd sitting shiva for my therapist, I am going to find a 5K run that has a theme of eradicating cancer. Any kind of cancer. In the meantime, I can look forward to really rich sessions exploring my propensity to futurize and assume the worst case scenario. After all, he's not dead and look at Arnold Palmer: he's survived prostate cancer for almost 2 decades.

Humble Pie

After yesterday's doctor's visit, I got the go ahead from the Medical Professionals to do whatever I want physically. The doctor's exact words were you have "no limitations." In light of the "no limitations" diagnosis, I decided today that I would see where my body and mind are regarding exercise. Here's what I discovered:

I actually do have some limitations. One of them is my oversized stomach, one is my oversized breasts that are full of milk, and the third is my pride. I stalled as long as possible and with Jeff's support I got out the door for what I hoped would be a nice, easy 10-20 minute foray into the world of cardiovascular exercise, a world from which I banished myself about 10 months ago. The first few steps were the hardest. I didn't recognize my body at all. I could tell that my heart and lungs were in great shape and ready for some exertion, but I was very disconcerted about this floppy stomach I have. I wasn't hating it, although it stretches reality to claim that I was loving it, it was more that I just didn't know how to mechanically do something I used to do before it showed up.

As for the breasts, well, they have been big for a long time. They were big when I ran two marathons, but now they are full. They are heavy and I don't actually have a sports bra to contain them. So that was another hurdle. These are my humps and they have done a good job in the indoor context so I patiently took one step after another and after about 3 blocks I remembered how I love to move my body. I stopped wondering what my neighbors thought of me and I stopped worrying about how long it would take to feel more ease during exercise. I really just looked at my shadow and thought very alarming thoughts. The thoughts were alarming because they were almost all positive. If you know anything about me, you know this is borderline apocalyptic.

I thought about the nice breeze and the gorgeous sunset. When a song called "Sadie, Sadie" came on my iPod, I thought about my perfect, enchanting little baby. I thought about how loving and supportive Jeff was and how I could not have gotten out the door without his encouragement and belief in balance. I really do get how women put on baby weight and never take it off. I actually get that for a lot of reasons, but without Jeff's support and his willingness to hang out with Sadie while I tool around the neighborhood in my post-surgery glory, I would easily give up, buy a bunch of huge clothes to hide in and never move this body again.

It was hard. Did I mention that my body feels so different now than it did back in October 2008? So much has happened. My body has been the field upon which my family has sprouted and now I am running around the neighborhood at a pace that would probably only beat Bob Barker. And, more miraculously still, I didn't really care. The music was good, the light was coming off the sidewalk without too much glare and everyone I made eye contact with smiled at me. I think I was projecting strength and humility and gratitude. What's not to smile at?

So, another humbling experience. Another first for this after-the-baby period. I am glad it's over. I am also glad that no one I know saw me because I can only take so much humility.

The end.

Babies....

Why so much crying????

Thank You, Recession

The recession has brought many changes to daily life for lots of people, us included. It's surely a longer story, but in short, because of the recession, our law firm offered a year off, which Jeff jumped at since we were having our first baby right when the year off was offered. And, the already-in-place amazing maternity benefits -- including extra time for a C-section-- means that Jeff, Sadie and I spend a lot of time together. And I mean, A LOT.

And, for those of you keeping track, Jeff and I have only been married 9 months so it's not like we have years of experience being right on top of each other working on various projects, such as raising a socially responsible, self-actualized, HAPPY, well-adjusted, independent-but-still-interdependent-with-other-people little girl. We started dating in March 2007, we got engaged in March 2008, we moved into a house together in June 2008, found out about Sadie's existence in November 2008, married later that month, and here we are.

Here we are all together all day long. It's very intense. As we are fond of saying, "it's very intense and very boring, all at the same time."

I have never engaged in so much negotiation in my entire life. The amount of communication that Jeff I engage in day after day in order to run the household is staggering to me, considering I used to go hours at a time without talking to anyone.

Ok, well I would not really ever go that long, but it's a lot of communication about really boring stuff: Are these dishes clean? The baby is asleep, someone should take a shower, do you want to? What should we defrost for dinner? When did you last feed the baby? Are my breasts leaking? Do I look fat?

And that's all before 8:00 a.m. at my house. For the most part I am impressed that we intrepid newlyweds have stepped up to the parenting plate and embraced Sadie and our drastically different lives with joy and enthusiasm. Jeff and I are nothing if not overachieving and determined to be good at the things we do. Parenting is no different. I decided the other day that we have to have other children because Sadie should have someone to share this experience with-- someone else to bitch about her parents when the time comes. I also think that Jeff and I exerting all of our energy-- at least for now-- for Sadie's needs and care is sort of intense and a lot of pressure for one little girl. I really do believe we should spread it around so that all of our attention and projections and love and neurosis isn't aimed right at Sadie.

Also, just in case Sadie doesn't end up with a high earning job, we'll need other kids to fall back on during the years when Jeff and I are infirm and need someone to pay for our round the clock nurse. I will remind Sadie that we got a doula for her-- ok, only one night per week during the month of September-- but with all the healthcare reform about to go down in this great country of ours, that will surely translate to a 15 year stay for Jeff and I at the assisted living home of our choice. In the Cayman Islands.

I really am coming to more acceptance about how much I love her. I probably kiss her little cheeks about 100 times per day. (This is why we need more kids, because that's gonna get old for her really quick once she can talk and assert physical boundaries.) I actually had the thought today when I was holding her in my arms as she fell asleep (hopefully for the night and hopefully for at least 5 hours, please God if you are there give us 5 hours) that I would rather stare at her making funny faces in her sleep and whacking herself with her spastic hands than ANYTHING on the internet.

Anything on the Internet?

That's a bold statement. I mean, the internet has Zappos, and YouTube videos, and Etsy, and all manner of apparel shopping. And, it's the honest truth, that there is nothing more alluring than Sadie's face when she's falling asleep in my arms. And when she woke up briefly and I put my face next to hers she showed me yet another experience that I have never had before when she lifted her little head and projectile vomitted into my my gaping mouth and then smiled the hugest smile I have ever seen spread across her deliciously chubby face.

All I could think was that I hope Sadie uses that smile for good and not evil, because it is so cute and so powerful she could start a world war with it if she wanted to.

I think it's my job to be sure that she never aspires to starting a world war.

Goodnight, World

My sister says that when she puts her son to bed she shuts the window and says, "Goodnight, World." He has started saying it as well. Sadie and I don't really have rituals that involve such adorable stories. Basically, we collapse from exhaustion several times each day, and it looks something like the above picture. I love this picture because it captures my favorite times with Sadie, when she's dozing in my arms and we can both relax and commune.

It's already heartbreaking to think there will come a day when she's too big to lay in my lap like this. Or, heaven forbid, a day when she is going to ignore me because she wants to go to Monopoly's Teen Dance club to dance to Bizarre Love Triangle with her friends. Oh, wait, that was me. Anyway, I keep hearing stories about how teenagers shun their parents, and I am dumb enough to have the secret thought: "that won't happen to us with Sadie."

Can someone please write me a prescription for a reality pill?

Goodbye, Summer

Last weekend, we took Sadie to the park when we went to pick up our vegetables from our CSA. No matter how much I feed her the SECOND before we walk out the door, she, so far, always needs to eat within 10 minutes of reaching our destination. The park we went to on Sunday is literally 1.2 miles from our house. Still, she had a mouth full of breastmilk only 10 minutes before we got in the car, and only 10 minutes into our perusal of the vegetables and fruits, she was belting out screams for MORE MORE MORE. Luckily, there was a park district building we could duck into to feed Sadie. We sat in a little room with air hockey tables and a poster of Barack Obama, feeding Sadie and visiting with my sister, Caroline, who had some into down to meet her now-favorite little Midwestern niece. (My brother's daughter, Lucy, is her favorite southern niece.)
After feeding in the rec room, we had a little family photo shoot in the park. Sadie was exhausted from all the vegetables and the excitement of seeing how we would resolve her crisis in the park, so she slept through most of it. We were excited to get her in the sunlight since we've been a little bit laxed on giving her vitamin D, which pediatricians encourage breast-feeding mothers to give to their babies.
We are so grateful and happy that Aunt Caroline made the trip from Texas to Chicago, especially since she is 33 weeks pregnant with her second son. It's not easy to travel when super pregnant and there is a fabulous wedding in Florida that I missed because I wasn't up for traveling when I was 32 weeks pregnant. It's fun to share these years with my sister; I am glad we are close enough to jump on planes to meet each other's children. In fact, Sadie's first trip will probably be to Texas when we go to meet Caroline's second son.
And, yes, we are bundled up because, even though it was the end of August, it was very chilly and we definitely needed our fleeces that day!
It's also nice to have a houseguest who is a parent or someone who isn't afraid of hearing a baby cry, and cry loudly. Aunt Caroline wasn't rattled a bit when Sadie cried in her arms, and I like that in an Aunt. We, the exhausted parents of a new born and Caroline, the third-trimester beauty, opted not to hit the clubs on Saturday, but to order in and watch "My Cousin Vinnie." Ah, to be on the same page. It's a beautiful thing. So is the bleu cheese burger from Logan Bar and Grill!

So it was a great weekend. We are mourning the passage of summer as we head into Labor Day this weekend. We are doing an overnight trip to Wisconsin tomorrow, so there should be some beautiful scenery in our future. I am a little anxious about traveling with Sadie, but it's only one night; only 77 miles away and only to relax at Lake Geneva. I can't believe how much I love this child and how precious she is to me. I am so much more vulnerable in the world now that I love this much. And, I would write more about that, but I want to go check on her and and poke her so I can be convinced she's just fine, just like she has been the past 199 times I have gone to check on her.

Welcome to parenthood, Christie style.

Time Marching On...

So much has happened in Sadie's young life. We get the cutest gifts for her everyday! And, while we haven't taken her to a Cubs game yet, we have driven her through Cubs traffic, which she did not enjoy. Sadie likes movement, not sitting still in a car where she is strapped in according to safety regulations. Hates traffic....I like that in a baby.
We try to do at least 4 minutes per day of tummy time. Sadie tolerates it gamely for about 2.5 minutes and then it's no good. Sadie likes to see what is going on around her; she likes to participate in her world. Tummy time is no good because she has to work so hard to lift her head, there is no energy left to engage in the scene. We do it because the pediatrician said it will help develop her neck muscles and also so she won't get a flat head from laying on it all day. How do you fix a flat head? Oh, yea, you make your kid wear a helmet so the shape of her head goes back to "normal" (round, that is).

Let me tell you one thing about the prospect of Sadie wearing a helmet. NO EFFING WAY. One of the chief benefits to the C-section -- yes, besides getting to deliver a healthy baby, while staying alive myself-- is that C-section babies come out with very very round heads. ROUND because they never had to contort to get through the birth canal. I didn't sit through a panic attack and 6 agonizing weeks of recovery from MAJOR ABDOMINAL SURGERY so that down the road Sadie would wear a helmet.

I have some strong feelings about that. Can you imagine the post if I get word that Sadie needs a helmet?

Let's not go there.

What else has she been up to?
She had her first visit to an art studio when we popped in for lunch with Joyce. Sadie isn't quite old enough to understand the content of Joyce's current body of work, but we're pretty sure she'll like to mess around with paint and colors soon enough. We're hoping Joyce will help us nurture Sadie's inner artists, since Sadie is blessed with two lawyers for parents.
We also had the second visit to the pediatrician, which went way better than our first. Sadie did not pee on the scale, though I was secretly rooting for her to do it again. She weighed in at a healthy 9lbs 11oz, which means these breasts are cranking out the nutrients for Sadie. She's also in the 95% percentile for her height at 23 inches. I am assuming she gets that from Jeff, who insists he was a stubby little baby. I had been wondering why she was growing out of her onsies in the length department, but she doesn't have a big baby belly yet that I was expecting by this time. I just want her belly to be at least as big as my breasts. Somehow that seems fair to me. She also got her second Hepititis B shot, which was traumatic for her and for me. It's a cliche that it's hard for moms to see their kids get shots, but damn, she was all smiley one second and then BAM! the nurse stabbed her leg with the needle and she looked stunned-- the room stood still-- and then she looked at me with imploring eyes that seemed to say, "How could you? How could you let this happen to me? I TRUSTED you." I kept my eyes focused on her eyes so I could be with her in the pain, but that was hard and I am NOT looking forward to seeing the doctor next time when she gets 4 more shots. I will need a sedative.

Where is that left over Norco?

Because I was a little confused about who the visit was for, and frankly, a little self-absorbed, I stepped on the scale at the pediatrician's office. This is NOT something I normally do and it's unclear to me WHY I felt the need to that. But, I did. Turns out, even after birth, you (or I) may still have over 21.5 (approximately, of course) pounds "extra." Did I really think I would lose the 43 lbs I gained over the course of five measly weeks? And, it's precisely these kinds of questions that waste my time and prove why I am not the person who has any business on the scale at the pediatrician's office, or anywhere else.

Lesson learned. Again.

Crouching Tiger; Hidden Dragon....

Sleeping baby. Today Sadie fell as asleep while I was putzing around the house. It was sublime to have such effortless time with her. I am falling hard for this kid.

One MONTH

Jeff did his one-month photo shoot of Sadie yesterday on her official one-month birthday. Mommy had a tough day yesterday. I woke up feeling pretty good, but then I turned a dark corner and decided I was fed up with being fat and ugly and out of control every second of every day. And then my uterus starting hurting again and I just kind of lost my ability to comprehend that all of this is temporary and could change as early as sundown. I wanted to snap out of it and enjoy the beautiful day with Sadie and Jeff, but my perspective was hopelessly lost in a way that I could not regain it until I had either had a weekend at Canyon Ranch or at least 7 hours of sleep.

I rallied in the afternoon when a colleague from work and her husband brought us hamburgers with brie and truffle oil, along with homemade guacamole and salsa. We felt so cared for and so understood when they swooped in and had all the fixings for a feast. And, brilliantly, they brought six of everything so that we could all share the meal and there would be leftovers for me and Jeff. They had a very smooth routine, which they learned from having their own little boy about 4.5 months ago. I am so enternally grateful for their generosity and for the chance to compare joys, questions, and frustrations with another set of new parents. I look forward to paying that kindess forward someday.

And Sadie. Then, there's Sadie. My therapist asked me today how I feel when I am with Sadie and I was totally taken aback by the question. I feel everything when I am with Sadie. When she is nursing and we are staring at each other I feel happy and joyful and still. On the occasions when my nipple is sore the nursing sometimes feels like torture, but it never feels like Sadie is torturing me. If I nurse her right before a nap and she gets really tired on my breast sometimes she'll snuggle up and fall asleep right on my neck. That's my favorite. That's exactly the feeling of closeness and tenderness and quiet I used to chase in numerous cartons of ice cream or from any number of "bad boy" boyfriends. When I feel her sigh and relax into me with her face buried in my body, I feel something more sacred and less trite than joy. Joy is only three letters and is sort of simple sounding for something as complex as feeling my baby daughter start to trust me and relax into me for a long nap. I think of joy as a loud and boisterous emotion-- it reminds me of Christmas carols sung with full choirs and bells gonging for accent ("Joy to the world, the Lord has come.") This is more subtle, more enduring. This is more like a acapella duet sung by me and Sadie with our spirits. If I ever end up in prison in Texas and on death row, I don't give a hooey about any last meal. What I want is that feeling with Sadie at 4 weeks and 4 days old full of my milk and drowsy on my shoulder with nothing to fear in me, her little sigh saying "I know you love me and I know you'll take care of me and now, completely defenseless, I will sleep."

So, I love those moments.

This afternoon after her 4-hour nap (and my 45 minute nap in a chair) I tried to snuggle with her every which way. Finally, I laid her down on the ottoman beside my chair and she was so happy she lit up like a Christmas tree. Snuggling = mama's agenda and chilling in her own space = Sadie's agenda. I like that she's got a huge range of moods and preferences. I feel pride that she seems very clear and pretty damn direct about what she wants, especially for someone with no language skills yet. When I feel us learning something new about each other, I feel happy and relieved and joyful about our unfolding relationship. I told my friend Camille, a veteran mother of a 2 year old and an 4-month old, that when I am away from Sadie, I sometimes feel a longing for her that borders on urgency. She said, "you're falling in love; of course it feels urgent sometimes."

And, I am. I am falling in love.

When she's in distress and really worked up crying like her beloved pet has just been run over I feel a deep sadness about not being able to comfort her. I keep reading about letting babies have their feelings and the wisdom that makes sense to me on the subject is that babies feel as intensely as we do (God, help her if she's as intense as I am) so we should be with them when they have their feelings and not be so concerned with trying to STOP it or CONTROL it. I have been practicing that all day. I feel more centered and more capable of supporting her crying when I sit with her without the goal of trying to make it stop. Besides, I have already learned that doesn't work. I feel sad and anxious when she seems to be in pain and I also sometimes feel lonely when she sleeps for a long time.

And like any real relationship sometimes I feel angry. I feel angry when she gets really spazzy on my breast and starts head butting my nipple with a really angry look on her face as if I suddenly filled my breast with castor oil just to fuck with her. I feel frustrated when she won't go to sleep at 3:00 a.m. Frustrated is another word for angry. I sometimes feel despair at the relentlessness of this: Will we ever understand what the hell she needs before she has to pitch a fit for 10 minutes? Will she ever understand the difference between night and day? Will she ever sit up and watch Mad Men with us and scream at Pete Campbell with me? Will she ever join me in my dignified and righteous road rage?

Of course she will, but there is a lot to do between here and there. The real goal of all this is to be present for all of it and savor it like the lifesavers I suck on hoping they will last my whole train ride to work. They will never last if I bite them and chew them into tiny pieces. One second at a time, one stop at a time, I concentrate on NOT biting and enjoying the flavor-- on past Damen and Chicago and Grand... this chewer and devourer of all things practices sucking the candy so she can emerge from the darkness with a little bit of sweetness on her tongue.

My relationship with Sadie is very real and full of every emotion, not just the blissed out and starry-eyed goo-goo-ga-ga I thought it would be. I sometimes want to hold her and she wants her own space. Sometimes she wants to be held and I want to go to sleep. My breasts may be leaking like a geyser, but she may be sleeping for another 3 hours. I am no more in contol here than in any other relationship. I feel a lot of love for Sadie. When I come home and find her in her swing after a few hours apart I feel like I could stare at her forever and kiss her face a million times. In those moments I feel the joy of loving my baby and also actually liking her, which is not always easy.

I am glad I was asked the question and will keep thinking on it as our relationship deepens.

The Stare

Right before Sadie takes a nap, she gets really fussy. I mean fussy at the breast, at my jokes, at my singing-- all of it. She just won't settle or be still. That's when we give her the ultimate treatment: We swaddle her with two blankets that we *may* have stolen from the hospital and bounce her around until she finally lets her eye lids droop so she can sleep.

When she's in her last few moments of pre-sleep, she stares off her right shoulder and there is no distracting her. I could sing Broadway tunes at the top of my lungs, but she wouldn't look away for a nanosecond. It almost seems like she's meditating and in the most peaceful place in her little mind. Then, in the next moment, her eyes are closed and we have to do without her pleasant company for a few hours. It's always bittersweet because when she sleeps I miss her, but it's a chance to take care of business around the house or join her in sweet slumber.

THAT Mom, an explanation

I got interrupted during my last post before I could get to the part about my being "that" mom. I was referring to the fact that I went through an entire (week) day without taking a shower. That felt like crossing a certain threshold. I can remember hearing my mom friends say, through the years, that they had days where they didn't take showers, but I thought that was like a myth. You know, like Big Foot or straight male hair dressers.

It's no myth. It's actually really easy to just pick something else to do besides shower. The obvious choice is to sleep. I used to be unable to sleep if I was not clean and smelling good, but now I just rub some of Sadie's spit up on my face and snuggle under the covers for any shred of shut eye. It's so totally insane how much I covet sleep. There must be a better way to do this. I keep meaning to look up what anthropologists or Biblical scholars say about why the sleep piece is so difficult with a human newborn baby. When the baby wakes after 1.5 hours in the middle of the night and I am in my darling toile rocker wondering how a baby can eat through two breasts at 3:00 a.m. AND at 4:30 a.m., my mind goes to strange places. Some of them are dark. I wish I had religion in those dark and desperate hours. Anne Lamott's Operating Instructions, the journal of her son's first year, is like a Bible of sorts to me these days. I envy her deep religious beliefs, which led her to think about Jesus' compassion on those long colicky nights with her son. I mostly just think that I am going to go insane from the strange burden of being on call all night long with my breasts exposed and my baby daughter crying out for reasons that are more mysterious than whatever reasons made my ex-boyfriends date me when so many of them were clearly gay. (They had to be or why would they break up with me.)

So, I look for religion. Then I think bitter and vengeful thoughts about people whose children sleep through the night. Out of my reverie Sadie may made a heartbreakingly vulnerable sound that reminds me why I am sitting on a toile chair with a burp cloth on my shoulder. Sadie. Oh, you're still here. I like to ask her in a sing-song voice -- since babies allegedly love the sing-song voice-- what it feels like to have a self-obsessed martyr for a mother. Then I tell her that I will work as many jobs as I need to in order to be sure that she can have a great education, go to summer camp, and have as much therapy as she wants. It's the least I could do.

Last night, my entire world tilted when Jeff suggested that I sleep for the night on our first floor and let him handle the night feedings with Sadie. I was just ragged and twitchy enough to take him up on it. I figured it might feel far away to be two floors from my family for the night, but it would be closer than the psych ward, which was my next stop. I fed Sadie at 10ish and then she and Jeff said goodbye and left me in the quiet darkness surrounded by nothing but pillows and my own thoughts. Luckily, I fell asleep right away. I slept from 10 until 4, when I could hear Sadie crying upstairs. I tried to pretend I didn't hear it so I could keep sleeping, but I am pretty sure that biology is rigged so that a mother can't "forget" her baby crying once she hears it. I went upstairs to visit Jeff who was giving Sadie a bottle. I am pretty sure Jeff hadn't slept much at all since we parted at 10, but he was sitting up looking competent and happy anyway. That's the good thing about parenting with someone who used to do M&A work for a large law firm-- he's used to no sleep for days on end. God bless him for being able to run on no sleep and still be nice. The first time I worked an all nighter at work I wanted to quit. Not just the job, but the whole human race. I am not cut out for work that happens after the sun goes down.

And then I became a mom.

After our 4 am visit, I ended up downstairs again sleeping until 6:45 a.m. So, today was a very blessed day. The sharpest edgy desperation lifted with that spell of more sleep than I have had since Sadie was born. I felt lighter and more positive about everything. When I relieved Jeff at 6:45 a.m. I felt so happy to hang out with Sadie. We had a great morning-- I took 400 pictures of her, 3 of which are actually in focus. For the first time ever, I laid Sadie on the bed and she just laid there turning her head toward the night. No crying or fussing. Just hanging out. I never thought we'd be able to do that. At one point I picked her up so that she would know that I was game for doing the whole cuddling thing, but she didn't want to cuddle with me. She wanted to lay on the bed while I folded the clothes and sang old New Order songs to her. It was simple and it was a blast. Moments like that will go a long way on the road to having a normal schedule and having her sleep 7 hours at a time.

I also did a little fashion show for her. I showed her how my pre-pregnancy jeans do not yet fit me, which wasn't a huge surprise. It's only been 4 weeks. I do wish the swelling would go down so I could wear my engagement and wedding rings. I think it's been long enough and I am ready to get my bling back on. Other than that, I am happy to run around town in Old Navy jersey skirts and flowy dresses. Jeff says that my swelling will go down when I get to exercise. Judging by how much my uterus still hurts, it's going to be a while before I can really do any cardioo exercise. Right now, walking to the train and getting to therapy is about as ambitious as my fitness plan gets.

Oh, and speaking of therapy, whose idea was it for my therapist to be out of the office for THREE (3) weeks in September? That person needs to be booked on one of those flights that sits on the runway for 9 hours, in a seat next to a toilet that overflows. It's a bad idea. What if I develop serious post-partum depression? I am an overwhelmed, overtired new mom and now my therapist is leaving for three weeks. As the kids say, WTF. In all fairness to him, he is having surgery, so it's not like he's taking the money I give him and going to Bermuda, but hearing he's having surger is not exactly comforting, especially when I have a tendency to think about the worst case scenarios. There are moments in my toile chair when I think about him being in hospice and my having to look for a new therapist with all the other things on my plate. It's not like I imagine him having hair plugs or his appendix taken out. Behind my jokes that he's getting his nose done is a vibrant hum of neurotic fear that he'll die on the table, which would be terribly inconvenient for me and probably not good for Sadie either.

So glad our work on my extreme thinking and my flair for making everything about me is paying off.

Am I THAT Mom?

Don't be deceived by how my arm looks in this picture. I am getting some serious guns from bouncing Sadie in her preferred style: bouncing in my arms up in the air. When the lactic acid builds up and I start to see stars, I sometimes try to "cheat" by putting her on my knee and bouncing her from there to give my arms a break, but she catches on in about 3 bounces and starts crying, so back up we go. I didn't know that having a baby would be the route to my Linda Hamilton biceps. Having a child is a full body experience and I am not just talking about the breast feeding.

Speaking of breastfeeding-- what a difficult and complex thing it is. Holy milk maids, it's really hard. At three weeks, I almost gave up because the pain in my right breast (that, incidentally we named Fred Couples after the famously down to earth golfer). Then, just like the nausea of the first trimester, it became bearable. Now, I almost can't tell the difference between Fred Couples and my left breast, which bears the name George Hincapie, after the hot cyclist. If someone asked me for advice on breastfeeding, I would say two things: 1. Get as much support as you can to hang in there because there may be a magic moment when the pain lightens and 2. Name your breasts after famous sports legends because it might just be ludicrious enough to help you shift into a more pleasant phase of a really difficult part of early motherhood.

Is it any wonder so few people ask me for advice?

Right now I am flush from victory. I have spend a great part of the day with Sadie, culminating in a new high: I comforted her to the music of my choosing (Michael Jackson's Man in the Mirror (or Baby in the Mirror at my house)) and she is now swinging peacefully in the swing while adult music is playing. What's this emphasis on adult music? Usually, when Sadie is around we listen to her CD. Her CD is a 5-track musical abomination-- it's actually "white noise," such as rain falling or a blow dryer. It's supposed to soothe Sadie by reminding her of the sounds she heard in the womb. All I know is that we have a copy of Sadie's Soundtrack in our house and in our car. Nothing like cruising down North Avenue to the rousing tunes of the blow dryer hoping that Sadie will STOP melting down long enough to catch her breath before I crash the car into the Hollywood Diner.

So, it's a big deal that I made an executive decision to sing actual music to Sadie and if she knew what was good for her she would surrender to sleep because I was going to just keep singing in her ear. My Michael Jackson falsetto impression isn't pretty. And, Sadie is smart so she surrendered quicker than ever to the sleep that she earned by listening to me sing. It's funny-- the books say that babies like to hear sing-song voices at this stage. I keep trying to think of songs to sing her her, but the only songs I know all the words to are just plain inappropriate. There are some Bible songs, but I feel guilty singing those to her since I can't say exactly where I stand on the Bible and then there's the whole "Sadie, your dad's Jewish," which would only further muddy the waters. Then, today this song from local band Moonshine Willy popped into my head. It's beyond inappropriate because it's about a woman who buried her baby alive. Um, nice, Christie. I tell myself it's ok because look at all those old fashioned lullabyes-- they are all about harm befalling little ones. "Rockabye baby in the tree tops, when the bough breaks the cradle will rock." That's really nice. Hey, everyone, let's sing songs about babies falling out of treetops. And then there's Ring Around the Rosie, which is a celebration of the plague, which basically oblitered the population of Europe. Looks like I am not the only one who has struggled with ambivalent feelings toward my offspring. I am in good company....with all of Western Civilization.

So, Sadie is sleeping away. We had a nice morning at the Green City market, which was so pleasant and happy and kid-friendly it almost broke my heart to be there. I felt so lucky to be sitting in the shade with a sleeping Sadie, hanging out with a good friend, surrounded by all manner of organic food stuffs, watching dozens of kids run around in the cool breezes. How could I improve on that in any way?

She's doing great taking the bottle and we can spend more time with her where she's just hanging out with us. Every now and then it looks like we get a smile from her. Usually she smiles when she's sitting on the changing table, which may be because she associates that with having her diaper changed and being warm and cozy. I love just hanging out with her and the times when she's crying are getting easier to handle. When I start to get edgy and desperate with a desire for her to STOP. CRYING. RIGHT. NOW. I visualize her working out some emotion or energy that is really none of my business. I can picture her and her Higher Power deciding that crying and screaming is the next right thing for her and my job is to let go-- once I am sure she is safe, fed, burped, comforted, and I have made my presence known, my job is to back off. Her spells of discomfort seem to pass more quickly when I keep my cool and trust her little process. Easier during the day than at 4:00 a.m., but I am working on finding my mama zen place at any hour of the day.

YaYa and Pops Visit

Sadie had her first visitors from the southside of the Mason Dixon line. My parents, YaYa and Popps, came to fawn over their newest grandchild. Grandparents sure have a way with grandchildren, and Sadie is loving the new attention and the new tricks my parents have brought. Their skills have been honed by Preston, Patrick, and Lucy, my siblings' kids who were kind enough to break everyone in before little Sadie arrived with her cry that could clear a crowded auditorium!
The consensus is that Sadie has my hair line and my pouty style when she's about to start wailing. She's been a real trouper-- having her first restaurant meal at Wishbone and her second at Bongo Room. She's a big fan of a brunch menu. Speaking of menus, Jeff and I had our first post-Sadie's-birth date last night. We went to dinner at Buona Terra in Logan Square while my parents babysat Sadie for us. We were gone about 1.25 hours and the report is that Sadie slept the whole time. Jeff and I toyed with the idea of going out again tonight, but I confessed last night that I am too plum tired to go out again. I really just want to hang out and have someone cook for me so I can eat it on the couch in my milk-stained clothes with my disheveled hair thrown in a pony tail. Ah, the magic of asking for what you want and throwing in a little something about your recent "major abdominal surgery"-- it really opens doors.
It was great to see my parents with my daughter. And don't think that my bawling my eyes out every night is a sign it didn't go well. It did. Something about being the middle part of three generations just really gets me. Then, my mom brought a DVD she made last fall for my father's 65th birthday, which showcases all of the parts of my dad's life, complete with 800 pictures from his rural Texas roots, through Vietnam, the early family years, and through the current time. I cried from the minute it started. We watched it twice through and I cried all the way both times. I am not sure what's up with the waterworks but there is something about family and connection and healing and hope and, as always, the sheer exhaustion which has always been a stimulus for my tears.

My parents stayed at a cute little B&B in Wicker Park and made themselves available to whatever we wanted or needed the whole time they were here. I really appreciated it and while it was hard not to play hostess or have a bunch of stuff planned for all of us, I was grateful they were cognizant of my somewhat diminished physical capacity and were happy to sit and hold Sadie for hours at a time.

There's way more feeling stored up about all of this, but my bed is calling and Sadie has grown fond of waking up at about 4:45 p.m. I have to get my beauty rest. Sadie also slept for 6 hours yesterday and that was a revelation to me. She then followed that up with 2 stretches of 3 hour sleep. If I seem like I am obsessed with sleep, I am. Good catch!

Multi-tasking

Moms are famous for multi-tasking; it's practically a cliche. I think I am being initiated into the art of multi-tasking, and to brag for a moment, I am getting good at it. Yesterday, I was able to walk around with Sadie while breastfeeding. Yes, nursing my 3-week old daughter while moving both of us from the first floor to the second floor. All me. Kind of creepy, but when time and expediency matters, I let myself be as creepy as I need to be.

And, right now. Sadie is sprawled out on my lap and I am typing away. I can Facebook and mother at the same time. I can take a phone call while nursing. It's the little things in life.

Today is Sadie's three-week birthday. Three weeks ago today I was itching like a flea-infested dog because the post-op drugs had the side effect of making every inch of my swollen body tingle and demand a good old fashioned scratching. How lucky for my hospital visitors to see that show! I believe the last of our visitors were leaving right about this time and Jeff and I were settling in to our first night with Sadie. How how good you have it when you are in the hospital with 24-hour care! I can hardly believe that was only three weeks ago! Sadie's little cheeks are getting fuller and she can sleep for pretty long stretches of time, which makes everyone very happy. My nerves still jangle when she's crying and I can't tell why. I feel guilty for wanting it to stop, but it would be sort of cruel if I wanted my baby to cry all day, so I guess it's natural that I want my baby not to cry.

My favorite thing she does is wake up from her long stretches of sleep. She has a fairly elaborate method of waking up, that includes stretching out her arms and her legs over and over again. She makes the same faces each time: first she starts with a general yawn, and then she makes different faces with her lips, including this one face where her lips form a perfect little "O" as if she is trying to blow smoke rings. I am so in love with those little lips I can hardly keep myself from gobbling her up when I see her little O rings!

We have done a little research on babies and discovered some interesting information about how they process information that comes at them all day long. Turns out that babies are quite sensitive to emotional energy around them because they do not yet filter any information out. Because they lack filters, they absorb or take in everything going on at once. As adults, we can screen, filter, or ignore certain dynamics or people or energy fields. Babies can't. I think of the prospect of NOT being able to filter out certain aspects of the environment and I get overwhelmed and want to shut down and cry too. Poor little thing. Makes me think twice about where I will take her in the upcoming days and how I will respond to her reactions.

We also learned that when babies get overstimulated they cry in order to protect themselves and reduce the interactions. I do notice that when Sadie is crying heartily there is not much I can do to "reach" her-- the research I read said that's the point: She's trying to make herself unavailable until she can get comfortable or reduce the stimulus coming at her. Well, that's one possible explanation so long as I also rule out a loaded diaper or the ubiquitous gassy stomach possibility.

I find all the information about babies very fascinating. I mostly wonder how the hell anyone purports to know what is going on in babies' minds. I sure can't read Sadie's mind, though it's not for lack of trying. I like the explanations I have heard and they engender more compassion and empathy for the experience of being new on the planet, so there is no harm in just embracing it for now. I also wish I had gotten a Ph.D in early childhood development before having a child so that I would have more knowlege about what is happening. And, as always, I think that having more knowledge would give me more control. You would think that having an newbornn would disabuse me of that fallacy once and for all, but I cling tenaciously to the idea that if only I knew more, I could control this.

Sadie will have the last laugh-- there's no doubt about that!

Bottle This Feeling

Big big day at my house. For approximately 20 minutes, I left the house BY MYSELF. No other living being was with me. That's the first time in 3 weeks that has happened. And I liked it. I liked it a lot. I also cried for the first 12 minutes of my walk. It's so freaking emotional to do anything right now. I left the house because Jeff was giving Sadie a bottle of my breast milk so we could experiment with me being able to run errands without her or allow Jeff to take a night feeding or let my parents feed her during their visit this weekend so Jeff and I can go out alone. Before I left the house, I was afraid she wouldn't take the bottle and I would have to deal with my feelings of being trapped and needing some more space or having to confront using formula.

When I walked out of the house into the coolish August breeze and everything was still outside my front door, I felt afraid about letting her go, loosening my grip on her as her ONLY source of nutrients, food, and the comfort that comes from a full belly of milk and a full mouth of breast. It's my first letting Sadie go so that others can be important to her. It seems entirely appropriate that Jeff would be able to take a turn feeding our daughter, but for three weeks the role as the ONLY feeder had a psychological grip on me that I didn't know until I stepped out this morning.

I walked through my neighborhood at a slow pace, partly because I was crying and partly because I am still incredibly tender and sore and sometimes in pain from the C-section surgery. I called my friends and left messages about the heroic action I was taking by letting my husband give Sadie a bottle of my pumped breast milk. I finally got ahold of my friend Bobby who is a father of four with another little boy on the way. He was incredibly supportive of the process of having lots of feelings about letting go and letting Sadie have new experiences that do not include me.

I also had the pleasure of confronting my own control issues. It was suggested to us that I leave the house so that the baby can concentrate on the bottle and not be confused or sense that the breast was nearby. In all honesty, I left the house for my own sake because had I stayed, I would want to "consult" (read control) and interfere with the process because of course, who knows better than I. Turns out that lots of people know lots of things and I don't need to monopolize the information about Sadie's food or pleasures or anything else. Sometimes, I just need to get out of her way.

Jeff called my cell about 5 blocks into my walk and said that everything was great and that she sucked down the 2 ounces I pumped very quickly. In fact, he thought she might be still hungry so I should probably head home.

Ahhh, the universe has mercy on me. It was the best possible outcome. Sadie and Jeff managed the bottle just fine; I got to get out of the house to peruse the neighborhood for a few minutes on my own while connecting with another compassionate parent who has been around a block or two; and Sadie still needed me. When I got home, there was an empty bottle, a happy dad, and a drowsy, but still game for more food, baby.

This is so good. I am breathing more freely. I am feeling excited about not having to drag Sadie to every drug store, therapy appointment, and errand around town. The whole point of having Jeff home during the beginning of Sadie's life was to give him and her the chance to build a relationship. I don't need a psychology degree to tell me that allowing them some space where I am not hovering around is a healthy dynamic for my whole family.

Baby Sleeping

My two favorite moments of the day : when Sadie is fast asleep and I know that I can talk as loud as I want to crank up the stereo and she won't budge. It's the nearest bit of freedom I have these days and I really relish it.

Second, this afternoon I made lunch for me and Jeff and brought it upstairs on a tray. We were having a little picnic on the bed-- (Note to self: order new linens after we pass through the newborn phase)-- and Sadie was sitting on my lap just relaxing and looking at Jeff. I was able to hold her in my lap and eat my lunch, which was a new trick for both of us. Next thing I know, Miss Sadie, the Mistress of Manners, starts with her farting and suddenly there is literally poo coming out of the top of her onsie. By top, I am referring to the part by her neck. I have heard parents talk about this, but who can believe this is really something that a little person can do until it happens to you? I was wondering what it would take for her to sit with us while we relax and have a meal. Now I know: explosive diarrhea. Hell, I guess it takes what it takes.

And, because the poo bore a striking resemblance to the food I was eating, I wasn't sad to leave my half-eaten plate in order to change her and when we saw the extent of the damage, we went straight to the bath. Sadie still hasn't taken to the bath yet, but we hold out hope that one day she'll enjoy being submerged in lukewarm water and having her hair washed. I kept explaining to her that taking baths were just one of many things to come that we would subject her to that she would not necessarily like, but that we would insist upon. I love her and I love her when she calm and peaceful, but I really can't have her lounging around with her own feces caked on her hair and her ankles.

She's in one of her long nap stretches right now. It's really peaceful and I am glad she can settle down for these 3 and 4-hour stretches. And, not just so that I can get on line and order more comfy maternity leave clothes, but also so that her little brain can develop along with all the associated neurological systems. I have addressed the birth announcements, but fear that if I send them out this early-- before she's even three weeks old-- then people won't believe me when I say I am overwhelmed and maybe have a touch of the baby blues. Look, just because I am organized and want to get the word out about the baby does not mean that I am coasting along and don't need lots of love and support and encouragement from anyone and everyone.

Ta Daaaaa!

She's got flair, this little 9lb daughter of mine. Jeff captured her sense of drama in the latest photo shoot. This picture makes me laugh thinking about what kind of a personality she will have at 4 or 10 or 15. So far she seems curious, spirited, feisty, and very into automatic gratification. She's exhibiting more of my personality than Jeff's so far, much to my chagrin and amusement, depending on how much sleep I have had.

I have always known that change is very difficult for me. I don't like haircuts or rearranging the furniture or having a new schedule. It's no wonder that those little paragraphs in the parenting books about how a new mom may be "anxious, depressed, moody, irritable and struggling with the responsibility of caring for a newborn and the loss of her old life and freedom," applies to me with a shattering accuracy. Before Sadie was born, I skipped over those paragraphs, cockily assuming that having a great husband and a wide, competent and compassionate support network would bring me through with all smiles and a cute outfit everyday. And, while all those things are true, I have struggled to make sense of my feelings of sadness and despair when I wonder if I will ever sleep in again or if I will ever get to lose myself in the aisles of Dominick's grocery store by myself. I think the hardest part for me is the feeling that I always have a sense that there is a clock ticking and that at any moment the baby could wake and need to eat and for now, in these early exclusively breastfeeding days, it's all me. It intimidates me and brings up lots of feelings: I feel proud of my availability and my willingness to give her every single nutrient she needs; I feel happy my body is on board with my wishes to breast feed; I feel angst about how much my right nipple hurts; I feel resentment that no one else can do this at 3:00 a.m.-- and all of this I feel at an intensity of a 10 on a scale of 1 to 10. There rarely is a medium speed for me, and now it's all 10 or 0.

It's a confusing time. I thought I would feel differently about everything. I didn't know I would miss being alone in the car listening to the Indigo Girls and sucking on a Crystal Light from a straw. I had no idea that running through Filene's Basement or being able to decide on a whim to do something crazy-- like go to the Post Office-- would vanish and I would cry about it for a weekend. How could I know this? Now I can't imagine having whims that involve me being farther than 20 yards from Sadie. And, it's not exactly a complaint because what did I ever really get at Filene's and the post office always pisses me off with the workers' horrible attitudes and those long lines. It's not even that I wish I was doing something different exactly, it's more than my daily life is so radically unrecognizable from what it was on June 30, which was only about 5 weeks ago. I think I am adjusting the best that I can. I cry a lot, which helps me relate to Sadie. Just like her, sometimes I just need to blow off steam and let it all out. She does the the same thing sometimes and it's more tolerable to hear her cries when I trust her process of crying is as important as mine is. I never wanted to raise a daughter who was afraid or ashamed to cry. Happily, I can report that doesn't seem to be the case with Sadie.

I am also happy about the good humor I have about having breast milk all over my clothes. I don't bother changing them, because I will just get more clothes dirty. I do, however, plan to burn these early motherhood clothes because I wear the same few things all the time. It reminds me of the clothes I wore during my month-long backpacking trip through Europe. Man, if I ever saw those Birkenstocks and that green pocket tee from the Gap, I was going to spontaneously vomit. It's actually hard to look at the pictures to this day.

My favorite thing that Sadie is doing now is allowing me to cradle her and rock her after we feed. When I am trying to burp her, she always squirms so that her head ends up in the crook of my elbow so we can look each other in the eye. I talk to her all the time, but during those moments, I actualy shut my mouth and memorize the look at her face and the feeling in my arms because she won't be 9lbs forever and she won't be at my breast forever either. Those are the moments when I understand what is great about being a mom, especially Sadie's mom. I forget about the loss of solitude or the pain from childbirth and the whole world is just me and Sadie and staring into those deep blue eyes hoping I am worthy of what will develop into her love and affection of me. It's easier to talk about what I am missing because it's hard to describe this new relationship with my daughter. I want to get better at describing my love and attachment to her, but for now I will stick with the image of my little baby cradled in my arms and the hope that she can feel that I would do anything for her health, safety, and well being and that I will continue to work out my intense feelings about the relationship so I can remain ever present to her as we grow together.