Happy New Year...

So, I am just now reluctantly acknowledging that we are two, almost three, full weeks into a new year.

One thing that can unleash incredibly depths of anxiety in me is allowing a major milestone or heck, even a common milestone such as the passing of a year, to go by without stopping to acknowledge it and honor it in some way. I like to have my time to sit with it, soak it in, and gather what meaning I can before sending it on its way.

I haven't had time to do anything close to that for a while now and it is keeping me up at night, so here I am trying to muddle through it all at 2:30 a.m.

I am immediately brought to tears when I think of the year that has passed.

It has been, without a doubt, by far the best year of my entire life. I am sorry to see 2010 come to and end. It has been such a good year to me. To us.

As the year began, our family was blindly feeling our way through the fog that had been months of sleepless nights, my crippling post-partum depression, and multiple stressful events and illnesses. We were just beginning to experience the fruit of the work we had started doing with Zane to help him learn to finally finally finally sleep through the night on his own. As a result, I was also beginning to experience the benefit of getting regular normal stretches of sleep at night. I was beginning to emerge from my depression and like a damp-winged butterfly struggling to free itself from the confines of its cocoon, I was beginning to feel my strength return.

There was much newness and tender tentative hope for the year to come. And oh how those hopes would be met, and then some.

There were so many joyful moments, so many adventures. Trips to the zoo, the museum. Going to parades together. Playing at playgrounds. Farmer's Markets, Hot Springs, Swimming Pools, Splash Parks, Yoga, Music, Storytime. Breakfasts out as a family, happy dinners together as a family. Morning walks, evenings spent in the backyard. House guests, playdates, traveling. The best vacation of our lives that also just happened to be a really simple one. Discovering caves, playing in rivers, going on hikes. Riding on trains, rolling in leaves, sledding in freshly fallen snow. Lots of cooking and laughing and every once in a while stopping to catch our breaths to exclaim to one another that we were having "the best year of our lives".

We soaked up as much as we could get of this year. We grabbed our life and we lived in it fully alive and aware. Maybe in some ways for the first time ever.

I reunited with a precious friend from my teenage years, who has quickly become a staple and a gift in our lives. My husband's sister came to live with us for four months, and taught us how to be a family in bigger and brighter ways. I had the opportunity to support and celebrate my sister as she finally realized her dream of becoming a mother in a bigger way that any of us could have anticipated. We were loved by so many amazing friends some who have walked with us for years, some who are just recently coming into our lives.

I did a lot of hard work in therapy, and found myself free from burdens I had carried for far far too long. We made big decisions together, drunk on our progress and momentum.

One of those big decisions was to move. We spent the last several weeks moving from the home that my husband owned when we married. The first home that was ever truly mine. The home where we learned to be husband and wife, where we struggled through years of trying to conceive a child, the home where we first found out we would be parents, the home where I labored for hours before finally heading to the hospital, the house we brought our son home to, the home he has known all of his two years, the home he took his first steps in, the home where we became a family.

This decision means we have started off 2011 in a new place, both literally and figuratively. We have so much hope for this new place, this new beginning. We made this decision in part to allow us even more of what we loved of the year that has passed. Only time, and effort on our part, will tell if our hopes will be met.

I am someone who prepares for the worst. I hope for the best but can't help but prepare for when things go awry as I am convinced they will. What goes up must come down and all that. After such a good, such a full, such a nourishing and freeing year, it is difficult to hope for more. It feels greedy.

But what choice do I have? So here we go....jumping head first into another year. With simple but big juicy hopes and dreams: to share even more laughter, to welcome friends and family with open arms, to continue to grow, even when it is difficult, and experience greater freedom and joy, to rest, to give generously, to love much, and to live fully and authentically this amazing life we have been given.

I hope the same for each and every one of you.

Happy New Year.

Abundant Joy

I was walking through the zoo (yes, we spend A LOT of time at the zoo) and thinking about how happy I feel, and really on a deep soulful level have felt for a while now. It feels like this year has been about fully living in and embracing my life and role as mother, and in turn has helped me fully come alive in ways I struggled to before. I feel like these days my default is joy. I spent so many years trying to get here, trying to understand my fear of joy, my reluctance to embrace it....and here I am.

I was trying to deconstruct it in my head, (because of course I was!) looking for all the contributing factors. And there are a lot.

Being a mother has turned out to be the single most rewarding and fulfilling and challenging role and adventure I have ever taken on. It has called me to greater heights and greater depths than I knew I was capable of feeling and enduring. I love being Zane's mom, LOVE it.

There is also the surprising fact that I love being a "stay-at-home-mom", which I really wasn't sure I would. Sure, there are days I am counting each minute till my partner gets home and I can get some down time, but overall? Love it. I love filling our days, our weeks, finding the balance that makes each day enjoyable and nourishing for us both. I love how much I am called to be in the moment and responsive: to my son, my own needs, the seasons, etc...

I also love being a "homemaker", making home a place of peace, nourishment, love, enjoyment, for our family. I find so much purpose in making space for us as a family, in providing for us through shared experiences, healthy delicious meals, time together, a peaceful safe clean house. The more peace I find within, the more peace I want to create without.

And of course, there is the undeniable contribution of therapy. I have seen the same gifted therapist for over a year now and have experienced greater change and greater freedom within than I have in any other therapeutic relationship or experience. I entered therapy with a few goals, one of them being the freedom to truly enjoy and embrace this incredible life I am so lucky to be living. I can say without a doubt, we have been greatly successful in this.

My therapist and I are in the process of assessing where we go from here....we are kind of in a place right now where it makes sense for me to stop seeing her so often, at least for a while. And this has me nervous. Without that place, that relationship, held out for me, consistently to come and find myself within, will I get lost? Will I forget this joy? It's scary. I know I can always go back. I know there WILL be more stuff, more cobwebs that need clearing, more wounds that need healing, more patterns that need undoing. I know that in all likelihood this is just a "break", not a "break-up". But still, it scares me.

So, today, when I walked through the zoo, pondering all these things, thinking about how happy I am and have been, how almost every day there is at least one moment when I want to pinch myself to make sure this is really MY life, I am really here (because, happiness has not always come so easily to me), it was a sweet little gift to look down at the base of the statue of mama and baby hippo that Z loves climbing on at the zoo and see the words "Abundant Joy".

I was reminded of all the reasons I have to be joyful in my life and how many of them are within me, deeper than circumstances, deeper than fear.

I hold abundant joy within me.

There will be struggles, there will be darkness, life will be hard at times. But I know now that this capacity for abundant joy is within me. I may need help from time to time to access it, but it is a part of me now that cannot be taken away. And I never ever thought I would say that.

And here is one of the greatest reminders of joy I know of:

One of THOSE days

Today was one of those days. You know the ones: you are staring at the clock willing each hour to pass a little more quickly, you are just lying down to rest when your child wakes up an hour early from his nap, you look for something to fill the two hours before dinner that will require as little energy from you as possible, but will hopefully wear out your overtired little one and make bed time a little smoother tonight.

We've been sick around these parts with a deep hacking cough that is persistent for weeks. I have made immune-ass-kicking-homemade chicken soup to fortify us all, and yesterday picked up a few herbal remedies and vitamins we were out of and a couple essential oils for chest rubs and steams and baths. Z and Mr. Spicy are responding well, but I am still in the trenches.

It doesn't help that Z getting sick means he has only slept solidly through the night maybe once in the last week, and is now taking 1-2 hr naps instead of the 3 hour naps I was getting so comfy with. It also doesn't help that his molars are planning to present themselves soon and he has recently been experiencing a bit of separation anxiety.

It also doesn't help that we recently lost our beloved dog, had house guests for the weekend, and had my sister-in-law, who has been living with us and greatly brightening our lives and our home for the last 4 months, move out into her own place.

I am beat.

So, this morning, when the power suddenly went out, I jumped on my husband's suggestion that Z & I go out to breakfast at one of our favorite spots, choosing not to inform him that I could make a perfectly healthy breakfast for us both without any power. And breakfast was delightful. We people-watched, we colored, we fed each other delicious gluten-free pancakes. But by the end I was exhausted and just wanted to go home and curl up in bed.

Mercifully, Z fell asleep on the way home, stayed asleep through diaper changing, and went down for a nap. Ah! Rest for me! But wait....what is that feeling? Oh yes, it is the loads of caffeine from the coffee I just downed at breakfast, coursing through my veins. Sigh.

So, I did some busy-work, caught up on emails, chatted with a friend, and finally was ready to lie down when - yep! The little guy was wide awake and calling for me. I took a deep breath, downed a little more caffeine, took a minute and then headed up to get him.

I needed an afternoon activity that would carry us through, with as little required of me as possible (I just couldn't manage much at that point), and as much stimulus for Z as possible, without directly exposing him to other kids. (sometimes sharing isn't nice) The zoo it was!

We wandered through the zoo, and I picked up a little plastic set of African animals to further engage Zane. The cashier informed us that the new baby orangutan was out with her mother in the enclosure for the first time. Apparently the mother had been pretty protective of sharing her baby with the world before now, understandably.

We arrived at the orangutan area to see the mama orangutan, with tiny baby clutching tightly to the hair on her shoulder, climbing up into a tree for a snack. Dad was there too, and he was clearly annoyed by all the attention they were suddenly getting, shielding his face as he moved from hammock to rock, like a celebrity avoiding the paparazzi. There were only 3 of us there at that time, but I am sure they'd had a pretty steady stream coming all day. Mama swung from trunk to branch, baby sticking to her like velcro. At one point, she stopped to eat, and her little one moved to put her face next to Mom's. Mama showed baby what she was eating and tilted her head ever so slightly to rub her face against her baby, like I have done with Zane and a million mothers before me have done, a million times before.

I was entranced by the two of them, moving as one, clearly so bonded, mother clearly so protective, so human. I was reminded of Zane's early months where I literally wore him, held him, slept next to him, constantly.

Later, as we purchased tickets for the train and carousel, the cashier (a young woman, maybe in her early twenties, who we are by now pretty familiar with) asked if we had seen the baby orangutan. I told her we had and marveled aloud at what a sweet mama the orangutan was.

"Well", she said, "she had a hard time at first. She's a first time mom. In the beginning, when her baby would cry and cry she would like take a deep breath and put her in this big bucket and walk away for awhile. She was pretty overwhelmed at first."

"Wow," I replied, "good for her for taking a break! It's hard being a first time mom!"

"Well, yeah...," she continued, "I mean, I am sure she likes her baby and all...it was just hard at first I guess. She's doing great now though, super protective. The tiger mom (who had quadruplet tiger cubs recently), now SHE'S exhausted. She is so tired, poor thing."

I walked away with this whole new insight into this mama and baby I had just been admiring minutes before. Wow. Motherhood is hard. It just is. Even now, in one of the happiest seasons of my life and my time as a mother, I find myself in one of those days. And this mama tiger, and this mama orangutan, they struggle too.

And I am pretty sure they didn't have to make dinner tonight, aren't worried about clean underwear, and don't have bills or schedules to worry about.

I have been chewing on this all evening, trying to find the right words to describe the light bulb moment I had there, talking with this woman (who I am pretty darn sure is not a mom).

I think it has something to do with the struggle being a natural part of it. Some struggle more, some less...but it's there. I think the times I have been weary, depressed, or just having a regular old hard day, one of the hardest parts for me is thinking that somehow I should be able to weather these days easier, I should be able to do more, be more, feel more, and all with a smile, always. And while in the last many months, more often than not I am easily smiling and laughing and just soaking up the joy of motherhood through many a day, some days I am not. On an intellectual level I know that that's ok. I would tell anyone else that it was ok, normal, natural. But some times I still get caught in that trap of should and it is hard to find my way out. There is always someone who seems to do it with more ease, more grace, more joy. Hell, I've probably been that person for someone out there too (if so, I am so sorry! I have those days too...obviously).

I think also, it reminds me of the period when most days were those days. When lack of sleep, and various other factors combined and I found myself deeply depressed. For months. It reminds me of those nights when I had to hand over my crying, sleepless baby to my husband for fear of hurting myself, or even sometimes god-forbid, my beautiful son. It reminds me of the guilt I felt for having to do that, like I was broken, like I was a bad mother. It reminds me that even though I came through that time, even though I got help, I got better, my son started sleeping, and the sun rose again, and my joy returned - that part of my story as a mom is still very compartmentalized and hidden away from my story as a whole.

Sure, I will readily relate to someone the quick version "Oh my son stopped sleeping at 6 months, and I developed postpartum depression and then he started sleeping at 12 months and I got better..." but it is hard for me to integrate it fully into my story, as a woman, and a mother. I want to hold it out, separate, a parenthesis, a foot note.

In this short interaction I was confronted with this animal mother's story, the whole of it up to this point: putting her baby in a bucket and stepping away when she felt overwhelmed (which I find very admirable on her part, btw), feeling deeply protective and guarding her baby and her time with her, to stepping out cautiously into the world with her little one, still protective, but much more comfortable in her role as "Mama".

I don't know it just hit me. I felt validated. I felt so much. I felt a kindred spirit with these animal mamas and I felt a lot better about my own rough day, my own exhaustion, my own "bucket" moments. I felt a tenderness for the orangutan and the tiger that allowed me to feel a tenderness for myself. I also felt so much tenderness for all of you, all my friends, all the bloggers, all the women I have never even met who have struggled through their own bucket moments, their own "those days", and worse. I wanted to shout to the world, "Look, it's totally natural! Motherhood is hard work! We fall down sometimes, we get overwhelmed, we need a break, we need help. It is normal, and it is ok!"

I know, this is not news to many of you, and it really shouldn't be news to me...but today it was.

And I am grateful for it.

Communion

I lift the corner of the sheet I have thrown over the dining room table, a wall for a fort, for a private tent, a secret hideaway. I pass him a small bowl holding two graham crackers and a cup filled with juice. He very carefully takes both from me and smiles.

I lower the wall again, turning to get back to my chores, my thousand obligations.

Until....

His head pops around the corner, he is walking towards me, carefully balancing his bowl of graham crackers in both hands.

"Mama."

"What honey?"

"Mama", he holds the bowl out to me.

"No, honey, those are for you. Those are Zane's."

"Mama!"

"Here, let me carry them so they don't spill"

"Mama."

He grabs my fingers and leads me back to his tent. We take our seats inside.

He picks up a single cracker and places it in my hand. He looks right in my eyes.

I am undone.

I break the cracker in two, handing him the other half and we silently take turns feeding each other bites.

He then picks up his juice and offers it to me.

"Mama!"

I take my sip and offer it back to him.

"Thank you, Zane. Thank you."

18 months - The Z files

My heart and mind are full and overflowing. How do I write about this boy, this child, without seeming trite and cliche?

He rocks our world daily. He is full of light, full of laughter, full of life. He is my greatest joy and greatest love. He is a mystery to me, and someone I know like my own skin.

The last six months have been monumental in terms of Zane's development, in terms of my development as his mother. This is by far the most fun I have ever had, and the hardest work I have ever done. Wow.

Six months ago he was crawling, and walking along furniture, standing, but not ready yet to venture out on his own two feet. Three months ago he began walking across the room. Today, he runs full speed through the house, and runs out from his hiding places when we wonder aloud, "Where is Zane?".

Six months ago he first began to cradle baby dolls and offer bottles to his newborn cousin. Today he concocts gourmet meals at his sandbox, asking for spoons to stir his various creations and then offers tastes to me and his "babies", announcing "Yum, Yum, Yum!".

At Christmas time we greeted our tree each morning and thanked her. Today he hugs any tree he can get his arms around and stops to smell the flowers as often as he can.

He has this incredibly mischievous side to him, deliberately "hiding" quietly just out of our view and then popping out in breath-stealing laughter as we go looking for him, looking at us and laughing a moment before he initiates some forbidden behavior.

He is intensely physical, hugging with his whole body, asking to be thrown onto the bed again and again, throwing his entire body on the floor, biting, or slamming his head into the hardest surface within reach when he is angry or frustrated.

He is sweetly sensitive, becoming upset when someone else is injured, whether in real life or on television, or in the painted image on one of his toys or in his books; kissing his "babies" when they fall, lifting my shirt to kiss my gall bladder scars every day, tenderly pointing and saying "Owwww" as he does so.

He becomes quickly fascinated by anything he imagines might need fixing or might be able to be dismantled. He reaches for nuts, bolts, screws, and tries with all his might to manipulate them, even when they happen to be holding in place the safety glass between him and the very large and ferocious lions at the zoo. You can almost see his mind working as he approaches something, such as his "bubble train", and turns it over in his hands, removing what he can, trying to understand how it works, how it all fits together. His focus and his concentration are amazing to behold.

He has recently become increasingly aware of his appearance, stopping to admire himself and frankly, sometimes make out with himself, in mirrors. He has favorite shirts (we have dubbed them "super cool dude shirts") that he literally struts around the house in. He picks out his outfits, refuses certain clothing items and refuses to allow us to remove others. Of course we have begun manipulating this to convince him that hats that protect him from the sun are indeed "super cool dude" items as well.

He is both incredibly independent and incredibly affectionate, making for this constant cycle of his stepping away to explore and do things for himself followed by his running wildly back to me for a full body hug and kiss and cuddle. It seems at times neither of us can get quite enough of the other. But it is certainly I who is the more love-sick one, having trouble walking away and leaving him, even when it is for my own good. He, on the other hand, fully secure, delights in his one-on-one time with Daddy, his auntie, or his favorite babysitter. He knows I will return, he knows he is loved. I am so grateful for that.

Speaking of Daddy, his adoration for my husband is legendary. He somehow knows exactly when to start expecting his father's return and stands on the couch, spreads the curtains and looks eagerly down the street while singing "Daddy, Daddeeeeeeeeeee, Daddddddddy!" over and over and over. He points out things throughout the day that remind him of his dad and sometimes just sits singing "Daddy" over and over to himself. I won't lie, I have been a little jealous at times over this devotion. But mostly I am just so grateful that I chose such a phenomenal man to have a child with. I love that Zane has this connection with his dad, something they have created together, it is a gift that unfolds before me daily.

There is a lullaby I have been singing to Zane since before he was born. It is the song of a mother singing to her son and at one point she sings, "And sometimes I will ask the moon where it smiled upon you last and shake my head and laugh and say, 'It all went by so fast'..." Never did those words penetrate my heart like they do now. It is already going by so fast, so very fast. I want to hold each day and pin it down in a book, but the days are quick and fleeting, and for every moment I have the presence of mind to remember, there are a thousand I have forgotten.

What a gift and what a torture. To love this person unfolding before me with such fullness and such completeness, knowing his growing means changing, means a thousand new discoveries and a thousand more good-byes.

There is one thought I have every single day and that is how incredibly fortunate I am to be here. I feel as though the whole of my life has led me here, and I cannot stop saying "Thank You".

Thank you.

Not lonely

I am all alone. For the rest of the night.

I can't remember the last time I could say that.

Mr. Spicy is out of town for work and Zane is sleeping upstairs and I am here, alone.

Of course, I do have a sleeping child upstairs so it's not like I am really all alone. But it is close enough.

As soon as I heard my son mumble off into the silence of sleep, it hit me. I was enveloped in the richness of the moment, completely alone. Like being wrapped in the softest silk. I almost cried at the comfort of the silence and stillness, knowing that there would be no one coming home tonight, there was no end to this imposed by anyone else, there was no one else to consider.

No one but me.

I sat on my bed, the fan blowing, the windows open, letting the last light of the day stream through, listening to the sounds of the neighborhood ending its busy day, and a part of me showed up in that moment, a part of myself I can only connect with when I am all alone.

Oh how I have missed her.

I have missed this.

Before I was married, before I was a mother, I was an expert at being alone. I thrived on it. For years I took week-long camping trips every summer, just me and my dog. I moved across the country twice all by myself. I have taken so many solo road trips that it is actually hard for me to connect with someone else on a road trip, I just so easily slip into my own routine and my own space there. I enjoy my own company and my time alone.

It has been good for me to be forced out of this, it has been a good practice for me to have to be present in almost every single moment with another human being. I can feel myself growing, my patience, compassion, honesty, courage, selflessness, expanding. Being responsible to another person the way I am as a wife, but even more so as a mother has been an incredible experience of sacrifice and heart expanding love that I would not trade for anything.

But oh how I have missed this.

Of course by the time I go to bed tonight, or surely when I wake up in the morning, I know I will long for the familiar feel of my husband lying in bed beside me, his smell, his laugh. I know I will miss sharing the day with him, sharing each other's burdens. I will miss my partner. And lets be honest, I will also miss the help.

But for now, I am spending the night with an old friend who I have neglected for far too long.

Oh how I have missed you.

Won't you stay a while?

I have enough for this life

Wonder is the beginning of wisdom - Greek Proverb

We are fortunate enough to live within walking distance of our city zoo. Our zoo membership card is one of my most valued possessions. Yesterday was a hot sunny day, with temperatures reaching 70 degrees. The perfect day for a walk.


I pushed Zane in the stroller, our entire adventure punctuated with his gasps and shouts of "Oh Wow!" forcing me to often stop and ask him what had captured his excitement. Sometimes it was a tree, other times a big red truck or a city bus. At the zoo it was the monkeys, a lorikeet, or best of all the big beautiful carousel! Later it was flowers, a dog, a pineapple.


One of the great lessons Zane continues to teach me daily is to cultivate an attitude of awe and wonder. The entire world seems to excite and intrigue him and in his presence I am reminded how amazing it all really is. The world is so much bigger and brighter when I am with him.


I am so absorbed in the wonder of earth and the life upon it that I cannot think of heaven and the angels. I have enough for this life. ~ Pearl S. Buck

All Boy

He can put the shapes into the correct holes of his shape-sorter.

He can point to different animals in his books when asked, "Where's the....?".

He can bring us all to tears with laughter as he makes loud farting noises with his mouth against my belly.

He can identify his body parts: nose, ears, eyes, mouth, teeth, hair, toes, fingers, and yes, his penis.

He can climb up and down from the couch, our bed, the stairs.

He can clearly communicate when he wants something, what he wants and when he has had enough.

He can melt my heart and bring me to moments of awe daily.

He is all boy.

I am all his.

Lent revisited

Lent has begun. Two years ago I walked into Lent with a desperate prayer and overwhelming desire to be a mother. I attended church weekly, lighting candles for the soul I soon hoped would join our family and be our child. I was in the midst of blood draws, ultrasounds, and daily injections that felt like a sort of offering and a kind of penance and absolution at the same time.

It was a time of longing and lament.

This morning is so different. I wake at 6am, nurse my one year old as we snuggle in bed together, and head downstairs. We turn on rich peaceful music and I make Zane a little bowl of waffle pieces, strawberries, yogurt, and bananas. He steals a few big gulps of my orange juice and I pour boiling water into the french press and smell the smoky coffee aroma fill the kitchen. I pour coffee for Mr. Spicy and myself, adding our requisite sugar and cream. I make his high protein, high fat breakfast and my own more healthy fare.

After breakfast Zane and I play his instruments to music playing over the stereo and we surprise Daddy in the office with Zane's newfound ability to open doors on his own! I look into Zane's mouth as he laughs and realize that his first tooth is finally finally finally breaking through his gum!!!! We play some more and I tidy up his room while he points at things out the window. Then I sweep him up into my arms, read him a couple of stories, sing him a lullaby, and he drifts off to sleep while gnawing on my knuckle.

It hits me. I am content. I am happy. I am here, fully present in this moment, which can be such a struggle for me. I realize that I am full, that I fit here in this space, that I love my life, and that I am so very very very lucky and blessed and whatever you call it when your life suddenly makes sense and you are fortunate enough to have everything you could ever want or need right in that moment.

And every little piece matters. From the electricity that flows through our stereo to the fresh strawberries in the refrigerator....from the toaster waffles to the coffee beans.....from the toy instruments to the blanket that I wrap around Zane as I rock him. Every piece matters. The mundane becomes holy.

There are no candles lit, no incense wafting, no kneeling, no wooden pew. There is a new ritual, new prayers, there are bananas and juice instead of bread and wine, there are soulful songs on the stereo instead of hymns, and there is joy. There is so much joy here. And it is holy.

Everything is holy.



*not a hyper-christiany song...promise. I just love this song.

The Spirit of Christmas

No matter how difficult the last few months have been, or this week has been, I cannot help but feel a sense of quiet joy and wonder as we approach our very first Christmas with Zane.

It is not lost on me that there were years that during this season I felt the emptiness of trying so hard for a child and not having one. There was something, someone, missing.

Now he is here and everything has changed. We are discovering the season together, side by side. He is opening my eyes to magic, and wonder, and possibility, and beauty.

Every morning we make our way downstairs and greet our Christmas tree. We picked her out together, and Zane watched me string lights around her boughs. When we greet her, we first smell her rich piney scent, then we run our fingers through her needles, and sometimes we even give her kisses and thank her for being our Christmas tree. We always give her a nice big drink of water as well.

It occurred to me today that this is the first of many Christmas traditions I am building with my son. The amazing part is how it just happened. It didn't require a lot of thought or planning or research. It just seemed like the thing to do. And now we have this special moment every day that we share together.

For years this season was a reminder of what I lacked, what I longed for. For years I struggled to find the joy of the holiday.

Now, through the wide eyes of my little boy, and in his smile and his laughter - I am rediscovering my own joy, my own wonder, my own Christmas spirit.

This may turn out to be the best Christmas ever.


Disclaimer: I do realize, in light of my last post, that this one might seem a bit over-the-top hopeful or even bipolar. I am still tired, still finding my way, but today I just couldn't help but feel hopeful as I realized the tremendous gift I have been given in my son, my family, and was reminded how very hard it was for us to get here. So, in the spirit of hope and gratitude, this is what came up. And it hardly does justice to what I am feeling and what I am hoping for.

And the payoff....

This morning as I passed my husband and son in the hall on my way to the bathroom, my husband stopped me to give me a hug:

"Zane, lets give Mama a hug to say thank you for taking care of you all night. You woke up a lot last night, it was hard for Mama."

me: "Well, it was hard for baby too...(to Zane) I know you don't want to wake up so much. I'm sorry it was hard for you last night too."

At this point my beautiful boy lifts his head from Daddy's shoulder and leans over to give me a big wet baby kiss.

aaaaaahhhhh.......

Celebrating the Now

Tonight Zane laughed with his entire body as he initiated a game of peek-a-boo with us by crouching down in his co-sleeper and then popping up when we asked "Where's Baby Zane?". He was so thoroughly delighted with himself, his excitement was contagious.

Today Zane sat turning a button around and around on his new overalls, his head cocked to one side as if he was wondering, "What does this do?"

Today Zane drummed a wild rhythm on his high chair with his real grown-up drum sticks. He then proceeded to put each one horizontally across his mouth, make "raspberries" and laugh hysterically at himself.

Today Zane crawled all over the house, the ultimate explorer. He tested each surface, each object. Drumming on them to determine their sound and density, pinching them and stroking them to determine their softness or squeezability, and occasionally putting his mouth to them to taste them or to bellow into them. After each test he would look thoughtfully at the object or surface and then occasionally bounce and squeal with glee as if his careful experimentation had yielded the exact results he had hypothesized.

Today Zane bounced, patted his legs, and actually sang along to music. Well, his version of singing anyway. He delighted my soul with his voice.

Today he was ripe with growth, with development, with possibility.

Today I looked into his eyes, and as he looked back I saw a boy that I cannot wait to know more of.

Gosh I love this little monkey.

All this growing and exploring sure is exhausting!!!!

The Beauty of the Rain

It is mid-afternoon, but the light streaming through the window blinds is dim and grey. It is raining and the familiar smell of rain fills the room as the sound of the heavy drops hitting the roof and the street outside comes through the open window like a thousand tiny drums.

I am curled up on my side, Zane is nestled against my chest, his head just below mine. We are breathing in tandem as he sleeps, his angel face pressed against me, and I read.

I stop and breathe in the smell of him, I feel the weight of his head on my arm, the warmth of his skin against mine. I stop and take notice of the light, the smell of the rain, the staccato drum beats. I stop and say, "Thank you" to Whomever is listening.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Baby Kisses

Maybe it's because I am always kissing him like crazy (who could blame me?), but lately I swear Zane is kissing me back!

He grabs hold of my hair, my cheeks, my neck, my ears - whatever will give him the best handhold - and he pulls my face towards his (or vice versa), and with his open slobbery mouth plants a big wet kiss on me. It is the sweetest thing ever and I never ever want to forget his little face as he stands on my lap and looks down at me with his bright little baby eyes looking into mine, ready to make his move.

I don't know how much more my heart can take.

The Z files: Month Two

Dear Zane,

Two months already? Wow. It is all going by so fast little one. And you are growing like a weed! You are already making your way into your 3-6 month wardrobe and some days I look at you and you look like a little boy instead of my newborn baby.

This month has been full of exploration. We have been getting out of the house together a lot more and I am finding much to my surprise that you, even at such a young age, are an incredible traveling companion and partner in adventure. I love taking you everywhere with me, seeing you experience things for the first time, watching your personality begin to unfold, being reminded to chill and be in the moment with you. We have taken walks, sat in coffee shops, gone grocery shopping, read books, gone out to eat....all things one might do with a new friend or companion. We are both exploring this big world together. And though I have seen it all before, I have never seen it before - not like this.

This month you have filled our hearts with your laughter. We have been reduced to goofy performing monkeys trying everything we can to squeeze one more laugh out of you. But just when we least expect it - there you go again. Your face lights up, your dimple deepens, and you just let loose. It is the most beautiful sound I have heard in my entire life. Really. Your laugh is both explosive as thunder and as gentle as a feather, all at once. What amazes me is how you will begin laughing in the midst of a deep sleep. I wonder what you could be dreaming of that gets you chuckling all to yourself. Already you have private jokes we could never understand.

This month has been a lot about togetherness. We are really together all the time now. Whether I am wearing you in the Ergo as I grocery shop or do laundry or whether we are reading books together or playing on your exercise mat on the floor. We are together. And already it is a slightly different togetherness than last month. You are more deliberate in your responses to me, we just feel more connected, and this month you began to hold onto me. When I am holding you now, you often reach your arm around behind me and pull yourself closer to me with all your mighty baby strength. And when you do this my heart explodes over and over again. You remind me in so many ways that we are in this together. And I, so determined in the past to forge my own way, so full of my own independence, could not be more thrilled to be a part of this pair that we are becoming.

This month has also been about small tastes of separation. We have had many visitors this month (your Nana, your Aunt DeeDee, and your cousins, various friends...with more to come). I admit it has been hard sharing you with these people who have come to love and adore you. Heck, sometimes it's hard to share you with your dad. But I am learning. And I am finding there is a different joy that comes from watching you delight in and interact with the people I love and who love me. As one friend pointed out, when you are being held by someone else, we literally get to see each other from a new angle. A bit of distance at times can be good. Last night I went out without you for the first time that didn't include a mad rushing around to run errands and get back to you as quickly as I could. I went out for a long dinner with a really dear friend. I resisted it at first. I thought about trying to come up with an excuse to bring you along. But instead, I took a deep breath, I spent the day snuggling with you, nursed you one last time, and then handed you over to your dad with dozens of kisses and promises to be home soon. And while at first it was hard to be out there in the world without you (is there a world without you?), slowly it got a little easier. I knew you were safe and loved with your daddy and I knew I was being filled up in ways that would allow me to return to you with more to give. I looked forward to bringing home more of myself to share. Still, as I walked through the door at the end of the evening - I have never been more excited to be home. And it was all I could do not to actually run to where you were. I wonder if your first ventures into the world without me will be much the same.

My heart has stretched this month and I sense it will only continue to stretch further and wider until perhaps it rips wide open. It is stretching to make space for you, for you in all your sweetness and light, for you in all your bigness, for you when we are together, for thoughts of you when we are apart. There is so much to hold onto but so little I can actually hold. Each day dances past and slips out of reach. Each milestone of development eclipsed by the next. We are finding our way, the two of us, the three of us. Finding our way into this bumpy world as a pair, as a threesome - as a family. And I want you to know that I will always be here for you to hold onto, as long as you need, whenever you need it, no matter what. But I will also try hard to let go when I need to, to let you venture out into the world, into your relationships - without me. And I will try to remember to be filled up in other places too, so that I always have more to bring home to you and to your dad.

Maybe that's what it means to be a family. Each of us holding onto one another and being there for each other to hold onto, but also each of us going out into the world, into our experiences, and bringing home more of the world and more of ourselves to share. Thank you for making us a family. Thank you for inviting us to this dance.

Love,
Mama

Simple pleasures

We had a busy and beautiful day today.

We met a dear friend at the park for a walk around the lake. It was blustery and cold, but the presence of this friend and easy conversation was warming to my heart.

We retreated from the cold and all three of us (four, if you count my friend's beautiful growing "bump") and went to our favorite bookstore for coffee, more conversation, and a feeding for Zane.

After our friend left us, we wandered the bookstore briefly and then headed next door to buy a couple of used CDs. I wore Zane in our new Ergo baby carrier and felt like a cool hipster momma browsing and bouncing my sleepy little package along to the funky beat.

Next we headed to a nearby burrito joint for a burrito bowl and a grapefruit Izze (my favorite) and I made phone calls while I devoured my lunch and cradled my wild-haired little one close to my chest.

And finally - we headed to the chiropractor for our first appt since Zane's birth. Ouch! I needed an adjustment fiercely!! Zane got his very first (ultra gentle) adjustment and slept right through it. He also got to lay across my chest as we both got a ride on the roller table. He laughed and cooed at the ladies there and once again proved his ability to charm is developing quite early. (he takes after his dad)

Just a couple of weeks ago I never would have imagined a day like today, the thought of it would have worn me out. Today I felt like "me" again - but completely different, in a really good way. It was an amazing day full of simple pleasures and small victories and I could not have shared it with a better companion. The world is all new when I am with him, every outing an adventure.

And who wouldn't want to spend a day with this handsome fellow?

Coming up for air

I am sitting in the glider in our bedroom. I am holding my naked-except-for-his-diaper son against my bare chest. He just finished eating and being slowly rocked into a contented slumber. He is perfection and innocence embodied in this gorgeous, creamy skinned little body with the most intense and peaceful eyes I have ever stared into. This is what I have waited for. And it is so good it scares me.

We've been hibernating and healing over here. Letting go of the "shoulds" (I should have....uploaded more pictures by now, sent birth announcements, retuned e-mails/ phone calls, started using our cloth diapers by now....etc..) and learning to live in the moment. And there have been so many that the last few weeks feels like a blur of polaroid photos flashing by me.

We had a long, hard, powerful, unexpected, and at the end a bit scary, labor and birth. I have been processing it like crazy with my husband and my doula and am finally able to relate the details with pride and honesty. And I plan to share more about that here soon (meaning when I have two hands free to type with - it's a long one).

My first week home was a blur of uncontrollable crying jags and suffocating anxiety that made me feel as if I was being held captive in the bottom of a dark pit that I might never return from. I could feel the love for my husband and son but somehow couldn't quite reach it, or them. It was agony. I would sit and hold my newborn to my chest, skin-to-skin, inhaling deeply the scent of his neck - determined to stay connected to him, allowing his scent to pull me up from the pit in small increments measured by my breathing. My husband called in the reinforcements: friends who are mothers, my counselor, our doula. I called Apothecary Tinctura and they quickly whipped up some herbal and homeopathic remedies to nurture and support me. Also, I received my placenta capsules - capsules containing my steamed, dehydrated, and finely ground placenta. I had paid to have these made for this very purpose, to help me to balance my postpartum hormones and emotions a bit easier. Thankfully, after several tearful coversations with friends and my amazing doula, many cups of tea and doses of tinctures, a few days of placenta capsules, and lots of prayer.....something worked. I woke on Monday and something had lifted. So far it has not returned and I have given thanks for every day since, knowing I am far from being out of the woods. But I am learning to live in the moment and to be grateful for each one.

Since Monday, the experience of motherhood has consumed me with all the magic and all the mundaneness. I have had highs....the utter joy of seing my son "smile", the realization that this beautiful incredible boy is the same boy we saw all those months ago, small as a grain of rice on the ultrasound image with the flicker of a heartbeat that is now the pounding heart that I love to hold against my own, the quiet satisfaction and peace as he nurses. I have had some "lows" too....the realization of my now very limited freedom, the anxiety induced over simply trying to figure out how to get a shower or leave the house (I will figure this out right?), the late night irrational anger over hearing my husband snore away while I am up, again.

Love has become so much bigger than how I feel. Love is all about action these days. The action it takes to respond to my son, the active ways I anticipate his needs, the active choice to be with him, to smile - even at 3am, to constantly let him know that he will be cared for, he will be loved - no matter what. Also, the action necessary to reach out and connect with my husband, my partner to love him and ask him to love me in the ways we need right now. And lastly, the action necessary to love myself: brewing a pot of tea, feeding myself, finding time to shower, asking for a break when my husband comes home so I can reboot - and choosing to hibernate and conserve during this season of transition.

Slowly, moment by moment, I am receiving my son's trust in me and learning to trust myself. Slowly, I am letting myself be changed, letting my selfishness and independence be challenged and shaken up, letting myself fall ever more in love, letting myself breathe, letting myself be a mom, a good mom - even when I doubt my own ability.

37 weeks

Had my 37 week appt today.

• I am still just 1cm dilated. Which is pretty much right on schedule. I really *felt* like things were changing, and expected a bit more, but we're ok with 1cm. I want Poblano to come when he is good and ready. Even though I am dying to meet him - I can be patient!
• I am negative for GBS - yay!
• My blood pressure (90/60) is great.
• We did another NST and Poblano is doing perfectly.
• I am having mild contractions and "cramping".
• My Dr. looked over my "birth plan" (we're calling it Birth Wishes though) and approved everything.

Other than that, I am pretty wiped out most of the time - my huge surge of energy over the last couple weeks seems to be conspicuously missing. My brain is literally the size of a marble right now - I am really foggy and forgetful and lack normal reflexes. I am kind of scared to drive, feels like I am high on something.

It is also a really bizarre Christmas for me. Mr. Spicy and I decided to devote our time, energy, and finances this year to just laying low and prepping for Poblano's arrival - which is surprisingly a lot of work! So, no major crafting or baking sprees for me, and we aren't even really doing gifts except for kids in our family and maybe a few other family members. I feel sort of lame. It seemed like a good idea, a relief, when we made the decision. But now I am sort of missing all the holiday hullabaloo. I actually *love* buying and making gifts for others at Christmas. And now I feel all scroogy and weird because we haven't done that this year. Bah humbug!

But, we have carved out some time to honor our usual Christmas Eve traditions and to make some space for quiet spiritual reflection which is really the most important part of the season for me. So I am really looking forward to that.

And in case I sound grumpy and whiny - I assure you I am not. Just wishing I had more to give on all fronts: time, energy, gifts, attention.... I feel like we have begun the retreat into our cave to prepare for the life changing event to come, and I am having a hard time not being as available or as giving to the people we love as my heart would like to be.

But I am thrilled our little one is doing so well, grateful that I am doing so well, and looking forward to some time with my hubby over his holiday "break". It feels like we are awaiting the biggest Christmas gift of our lives and we aren't quite sure when it (he) will get here. Talk about joyful anticipation!

I hope everyone has a really special and meaningful time with people they love this holiday season - whatever that looks like for each of you. May you all be blessed with peace, love, and joy.

Update, Observations, and Peace....

Just wanted to pop in and give a little update of sorts.

- I was out of town this weekend with friends at their cabin and it was so good to be with people who know us, get us, and love us - even when none of us have showered for two days.

- I have had the nastiest cold all week. Every time I think I am getting better it creeps back up on me. Being sick while pregnant is a whole new kind of torture. (Especially if you are like me and a tad bit paranoid about taking meds, even when your Dr. tells you they are safe. Not that there's a whole lot you can take anyway.)

- I am also experiencing insomnia off and on. I am not used to this at all. I am usually a world champion sleeper. Having to be really deliberate and conscious about my sleeping and my before-bed-routine is a challenge for me. I miss sleeping for more than 4 hours at a time.

- Acid reflux. Holy hell. I have spent at least two nights sleeping upright. I am finding myself capable of things I never knew possible.

- I finished up my first temporary nanny gig on Friday. It was such a perfect job for me and I feel so lucky that I had this opportunity. The last five weeks with these girls have been such a gift. The family I worked for are close friends of ours so it was an added bonus to have this time to develop a closer relationship with their two incredible little girls. I loved it. The one caveat would be that the nasty killer cold came from the girls - but that can't be helped. :)

- I should start the second temporary nanny-gig in a couple weeks when the other family's nanny leaves to have her little boy. I don't really know this family, so it will be a really different experience and truthfully I am a little worried about it since I am getting increasingly exhausted and worn down as the weeks progress and I don't really know these two girls at all. But I am trying to remain hopeful that this too will be a great experience and a great opportunity to make some income while hanging out with some cool kiddos.

- I got my first "You are huge!" comment this week as well. An eighty-two year old woman (with some loss of impulse control) asked when I was due. When I told her, she remarked that I looked as if I was about to give birth any day now and asked if I was sure it wasn't twins. I politely answered her and made a quick exit. The thing is, I am definitely a bit bigger than I expected to be at this point, but I haven't gained a ton of weight, in fact I am pretty textbook right now. I just am carrying everything all out front. Regardless, I am loving my pregnant body right now. Although it still shocks me on a regular basis to look in the mirror and see this big basketball protruding from my abdomen, I feel sexy and beautiful in a way I maybe never have before. I feel womanly. And I like it. (And so does Mr. Spicy....)

- Poblano is moving a lot more and Mr. Spicy was finally able to feel a kick from the outside this week which is it's own special brand of amazingness. But now I freak if he (Poblano) moves a little less from one day or one hour to the next. The doppler still gets a little work out from me once or twice a week.

- We had our re-check ultrasound last week and there is lots of fluid around our little guy, which was a relief. Everything looked great and it was incredible to see how much he has developed in just 3 weeks. He looks like a baby! And we could even tell he has his daddy's lips!

- At our re-check appt my doctor suggested that I might be having anxiety attacks. I have been having sporadic periods of heart-racing and breathlessness but was attributing them to hormones. Turns out, they might be actual anxiety. So I was instructed to get a good measure of my resting heart rate and then record what my heart rate is when these actually occur. The thing is, I don't always feel actively anxious on a conscious level when these happen. Which is probably why I was prefering to chalk them up to hormones. But the more I think about them and when and how they occur, I am more and more convinced that they are a symptom of some internal turmoil. I had one this weekend during a conversation with a friend about something I am working through in therapy. Probably not a coincidence. My heartrate jumped to 130. Lying down and taking a nap seemed to help but I should probably pay more attention to the triggers for these and maybe find some reliable relaxation techniques in the meantime? At any rate, there are a million reasons I could be dealing with anxiety at this time, and all of them are valid. I just hate anxiety because in the moment I just feel it so intensely and trying to figure it out isn't always helpful right then when I am trying to catch my breath. It kind of demands that I stop everything and deal with it, or at least the symptoms of it - right now. Which, ironically, is possibly what my body is trying to get me to do - stop everything and deal with it. But I could go on forever about this.....

- I am almost 24 weeks pregnant which seems like a fluke, a joke, and a miracle all at the same time. So far pregnancy has been everything I hoped for and feared, and so much more. It is the hardest thing I have ever done and also the most incredible. I regularly am flummoxed by the duality of emotions I feel: pure joy and gratitude for being so incredibly fortunate to be here, excitement and anticipation of what is to come, exhaustion and anxiety and general yuckiness, vulnerability and fear, and a big large helping of cluelessness and humility. I mean, how is this really happening to me? I still can't get my brain around it at all. And in general it feels like it is flying by, like all these strange things are happening to my body and to my heart and to my life - but they are happening so fast I can't even seem to catch up. I feel this great longing to stop the clock and have a week or two to just breathe, contemplate, and savor this experience. But instead I feel as though the days are simply speeding by me before I even have a chance to be in them fully. I wish I was more grounded in all of this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, here I am, more than halfway through pregnancy, a huge, anxiety-ridden, emotional, congested, insomniac. I feel crazy and happy and overwhelmed and terrified all at the same time. Sometimes, a lot of times, I wish it was easier for me. I wish I was someone who just sailed through with barely a blip, sure of myself, sure of this pregnancy, and sure of what was to come. But that has never been me. So, it has been work - physical, emotional, spiritual work - but I know, I know, how fortunate I am that this work is mine to do. And in the midst of this work there are moments of joy that I thought at times I might never get to experience. Joy that leads me to great hopefulness. So, I am immensely grateful for that - that I get to be here, that I get to do this work, that I get to drink up this joy, and I am just hoping for a little more peace and groundedness in the midst of it. For my sake, for my husband's sake, and for the sake of our son.

Peace. Peace and groundedness.

Because I know you all have been waiting with baited breath.....

Let me get the big news out of the way first thing:

We are having a BOY!

Yep. And there was NO doubt about it, either!

So, we had our big ultrasound yesterday and all was well. He is healthy and looks completely adorable (if I do say so myself). He is measuring just 3 days ahead which is pretty perfect. His placenta is in the right place, the cord looks good, my cervix is nice and long and closed, all his organs look great.

My amniotic fluid was normal, but just on the low side of normal. My doctor wasn't concerned about this but offered to do a re-check in 3 weeks. So, we get another peak in 3 weeks and I hopefully won't worry too much - because oh, how I love a reason to worry, apparently.

I completely thought we were having a girl, or at least I did until about a week ago when my brain started switching the sex of my baby in my daydreams. I was surprised. But we of course would be ecstatic with either sex, we're just so happy everything looks normal so far.

Of course here is where I should be inserting some lovely ultrasound shots (as well as my missing 18 week and 20 week belly shots) - but my internet keeps shorting out, and this is the first time I have been able to get it to work in days, so I will try to do a big post full of pics later when I am sure of more reliable internet access and I am not cussing out my computer every 10 seconds.

Speaking of photos.....I cannot wait to show you some photos from the maternity photo shoot we did with Mary Beth on Monday night at the Denver Botanic Gardens!!! She offered up a free photo shoot to someone in the Colobloggers group as her way of giving something to the infertility community and I snatched it up as quickly as I could. I will write more when I put up some pictures, but suffice to say that she is an incredibly talented and gifted artist and just generally a delightful woman to spend hours wandering through gardens with (or having lunch, whatever...). So I will try to get those up as soon as I can. And if you ever ever need some great photos of you and/or your family - please look her up!

Other than that....we survived the bathroom remodel, the houseguest, the DNC....and we are trying our best to recover and find a way to belatedly celebrate our anniversary since last week was a bit of a blur. As for my belated birthday gift(since I was working all day and cleaning all evening - totally a crime!) I have scheduled myself for a manicure/pedicure and a 90 min prenatal massage tomorrow. I. can. not. wait.

I have all sorts of poetic ramblings going through my head as I think now of raising a boy in this world - but will have to save those for later....our internet has already gone down twice since I started this post.

I guess with all I have left to post I should just end this with:

to be continued...