winding down
I’m winding down to closure. I have two more weeks of Lovenox, we just switched our closets and I removed virtually all the maternity wear. We discussed this. G. asked if I thought I would want to have another baby and I said after E’s birth, yes, I did. But I thought too it would be greedy to want more than one, given my circumstances. He said, well, having another child is hardly greedy. Yes, for some people. But for me, it’s bordering on risky. I’d say suicide, but hey, I was on that brink too. I even wonder if the people who were so supportive of me this time would not be, given that I just had a miracle child. But the next could be just foolish to try. I must just soak up every second I have with E. and with this babyhood time.
It’s the closure I outlined to M. several months back – to have sex, followed by coffee, a cinnamon roll, not inject anything into myself, and enjoy my baby.
Truth is, I love E. with an abandon that is shocking. She completes me in a way I could never have imagined, or maybe that’s why the losses were so hard, because I knew already.
Last night, in my pale blue toile nursing nightgown I contemplated that there was some other woman, in a Parisian flat, nursing a four-week old baby. There was one in Rome too, and probably one in Florence. I tried to imagine the Parisian new mom, what was she like? A career woman like me? What was in her closet? what had she given up or given away or sacrificed to get her bundle of joy? As she sat in her rocker in the wee hours as dawn was barely cracked, did she think of me? in my rocker? Did she wonder what I did, what was in my closet?
I pared down one big bag of things, and plan to do another. It’s time. Let the old life go – and let the old things go with it. Pare myself down to essentials, key styles and start fresh. I went on the new Bstyle site and registered so I could download some of their new patterns. Fun. I am surprised they did it – it’s quite corporate of them and quite socialist of them too. But I loved the chic looks. The parisian mom probably does too – the forum posts were women from all across europe. One said she was speaking English out of consideration of others, and I was embarrassed that I can’t speak anything well enough to say that I’d use that language out of consideration.
E. your conception and birth took so much out of me (that I am ever grateful to have gone through, don’t get me wrong), but it was shocking the emotional and physical toll of energy it took. I’m so happy to free that up, to be this happy and to devote it to you – and to myself finally. Finally. I was ready, I believed. It came true.
God have mercy, it came true.
Filed under Everyday Life | Comments OffA year
A year ago I was in ballet class, awaiting a follicle’s ripening on a miserable failed cycle that ended in bleeding at trigger, and five months of estrogen. It spiraled downhill with fallout from friendships cratering. I hit bottom just as I went to the retreat. And a year later, exactly a year later, I have a baby. I am and have been since the retreat, happier than I’ve ever been. friends say that I am ‘absolutely radiant’. Three years, eight months, three weeks and five days.
It’s time to sign off for the night.
Filed under Everyday Life | Comment (0)smitten mama
Last friday E. and I went to Target. Then we hit our fave secondhand boutique, got two pair of pants (black and cream) and a skirt (brown) to tide me over. the oversized red chunky necklace and earrings were just icing. E. will love ‘em. Bright, chewable. Sleeping in the sling on my lap, she’s peaceful.
This am after I resigned myself she was awake, and sleep would be elusive, I set her on my curvy pillow, just by chance. she fits. And she was wide awake, alert, and I just marveled at her. Playing with her hands, making the kissy face that she does. I swear she even smiled a real smile as I kissed her dimpled nose. My nose. I am smitten. How did I get lucky enough to be your mama?
The shopping reminded me of my life BE. But also reminded me I do have a career, a business, a life, and I can still be a mom. A good one, too. I’m off to wash the pants and hem them (as much as they fit with heels, I’ll be happier if I can also wear flats).
I’m in love with a seven pound bundle. absolutely smitten.
Filed under Everyday Life | Comments Offwistful or sad?
Last night I cried myself to sleep after curling up with my big pillow – a first since delivery. Not pregnant. Not ever going to be again. Maybe. I am sad about this even now. Yes, got my daughter, and that’s what I wanted. I survived a very risky pregnancy – there is no guarantee another would succeed. but I loved being pregnant. Loved it. The feel of her kicking inside me, the roundness of my body, nurturing my baby. In the same way I love breastfeeding her, I loved caring for her inside me.
I knew this would happen, too. I knew it would end, almost as soon as it began. But it’s wistful and sad in more than one way. I’m young enough, and perhaps just risky enough to try again (never say never said my docs – but Dr. C. never said that) Somehow, a woman with 10 children who devotes her life to helping others get theirs would understand.
I’m in my slinky weekend pants. Too stretched out to wear outdoors (maybe), the waist slid up over my not-pregnant but still preggo sized belly on its own. Even my pants want me to be pregnant.
And all this while E. sleeps in the sling on my lap.
Filed under Everyday Life | Comment (0)two weeks
It’s hard to believe Eyrin is 2 weeks old. She is still making those little mewing sounds, though less than when she was first born. Her body still has the downy laguno hair, so soft, like velvet. And her smell. sigh. baby. my baby. I still am on cloud 9, even when she’s crying half the night (or at least a few hours). I can’t believe how miraculous it is. Dr. C’s office called to confirm particulars (birth weight, type of birth, complications, etc.)
I can just stare at her for hours on end. My mom has her now, but will go home next week. The rest of this week I’m focused on carrying her in the sling, getting her room finished up (sewing crate liners, hanging fish).
Though I’m tired, and clearly not at all prolific, I wanted to just get a few things down. She’s perfect, a gorgeous baby, and as I said to friend M. yesterday, I haven’t had a smidge of sadness. Not even a moment of baby blues. I have felt emotional but it is in a happy way.
Filed under Everyday Life | Comments OffEyrin Christiana
3/27/07 Tuesday
I took Zuzu for a walk. Ran into S and his dog R. He looked at me and said ‘should you be out?” And I laughed and said “I’m not in labor yet”. Famous last words! But the day was gorgeous, I was hugely pregnant, in a pretty skirt and sandals, walking the dog. When I got back home, I sat, as I usually do, in my place at the table, while G finished work and we chatted about our days.
A big contraction hit. While I’ve had them since the cerclage was removed, this was hard. And then a gush of fluid. My water breaking. I ran for the bathroom, where I managed to mostly contain it in there. I said “oh crap, my water just broke”. Our doctor, who said “I give you a week”, was right. So we decided that I’d go ahead and eat dinner (in this case, a big spinach salad) because I might have a long time to go. B, our instructor, agreed. We talked about options as I had contractions erratically, but moving about 10 minutes apart. G loaded the car, and by nearly 8pm, we were getting in the car. I had one in the car, and one in the valet at Sparrow, another in the wheelchair in Triage. Dilated to 5 and 90% effaced. Dr. S, a resident, said “call L&D”. They called Dr. M too, who was on call.
After getting settled in to the room, and doing the usual vitals, we opted to labor in the shower. S, our nurse was concerned, but G said “I’ll change into my swimsuit” and she said “good, we don’t mind the moms, but we get really scared at naked dads”. We did a lot of good contractions in the shower, with George rubbing my back. It felt, well, tolerable. I thought, I can do this.
Then, we hit transition, and as the contractions hit me like a brick wall, I was sobbing, trying to get in the right position (hands and knees was the only one that worked). Crawling up and practically over the bed, at one point I had a single lucid thought “what the hell was I thinking when I agreed to do this”. I remember losing control of all thoughts and just trying to ride the next pain wave, asking over and over “how much more, I can’t do much more”. But as it turns out I dllated from 7 to 10 in just a few contractions, and they were a minute long and less than 30 seconds apart.
At one point, I said “I have to push” and I did. S called the docs in (G told me this later, I was oblivious). They got me into the squat seated pushing position. As hard as transition was, in a way, pushing was just as hard. The pain was intense, and at one point, I guess I was howling. I do recall Dr. M saying “less vocalization, more pushing”. And it was intense. But in between, surreally, we had almost normal conversations. Nearing the end, when I didn’t push as hard and she slid back inside, I said “no!” The next push was it, I just kept pushing and pushing and her head came out, (I do recall saying “it burns!”) and finally, the contraction nearly done, I heard Dr. S say “push once more” and that was it, I felt her slip right out.
It was, in short, amazing. Really remarkable. As they set her on my belly, cord still intact (george declined) I couldn’t believe it, “I have a baby! I have a baby!” I can’t believe I have a baby! How remarkable. It was just a stunning singularly unbelievable experience.
Eyrin. 4/5/07
This is really about Eyrin now. I just cannot believe how perfect she is, and that we made her. With help, yes, but we made this perfect baby. Gorgeous baby, says everyone. The entire lab staff came in to see her (four days in a row, poor kid) “this is the baby I was telling you about, isn’t she gorgeous?” She is, you are, Eyrin.
I read you Goodnight, Moon and Guess how much I love you last night, in the wee hours, and I swear, you were smiling at the end of Guess how much I love you? I just can’t get enough of you. When you had a rough night, screaming for hours, all I thought of was, how can I comfort you, I’d do anything for you, Eyrin.
I have done anything, everything for you, Eyrin. This entire three years and 8 months plus has been for you. For us, yes, too, but for you. And I thought while I’d be a lot more emotional about the losses, the only odd thing is that I hear and say to myself your sister’s name (Gisela) sometimes when I hold you, which is strange. I think this is normal, I’m reconciling the loss of her as I begin to realize just how much I love you. And I love you for you, not as a remembrance of the other babies we lost. Because with you – your name even – is about finally, having peace and coming to terms with the losses. Closing that door.
I close it softly so as to not wake the babies. But you are my angel and I love you so very much, it almost hurts. Perfect in every way, and I’m so glad the door to your life is open, now. Peace. Eyrin.
Filed under Everyday Life | Comment (0)