just as things settle down

I'm unsure where I am these days. Some days I feel like we have a routine and we're hitting our stride - like things are settling down and we're beginning to see what normal will be like for the next little bit. Then we have days like yesterday and today, where getting Gus to sleep is a fight, where doing nearly everything is a fight, and the exhaustion creeps up and knocks me down when I'm not expecting it. I'm short with Dave, I'm short with the pets, and though I try not to be - I know I'm short with the baby.

We made it through those first few months on less than 2 hours of sleep at a time. We did this while also mourning Paul, while adjusting to new mama- and papa-hood. We also hosted friends and family on a near daily basis. I don't know how we did it. I look back now and those days are blurry, caught in a fog of half sleep. I don't remember being so sad all the time, then. Maybe I was and I just don't remember it. Or maybe the hormones and the bliss of that little babe soaked up some of the grief so it wasn't so powerful. Each time we mark another month for Gus (he'll be 5 months next week) we also mark another month since Paul died. I hope that I won't spend the rest of my life thinking about Paul each time I think about the birth of August, but for now - at least for the first half of this year - it's impossible to escape.

It ebbs and flows, there's high times and low times. I guess this is one of the low times. I know that no one would say this is supposed to be easy. I know that raising a kid is work, and that work is never done. I can't help but feel guilty when in one minute I'm cursing Paul for being gone - thinking of how much easier it would be to deal with Gus if I didn't have the weight of the grief - and in the next minute cursing Gus - thinking of how much easier it would be to grieve if I didn't have to be playful and happy for baby. It's not fair either way, and I feel awful each time one of those thoughts flits through.

I try to remember to take it one day at a time. To not let little things get under my skin. I try to remember that the most important thing is that we have each other, our little family of 3, and that together we can get through some pretty tough shit. It's hard to see clearly, to guess what's next. It's easier to be sullen and quiet, to spend most of my time in my head.

I know that I don't call friends. I've become terrible about returning calls. I suppose I should be better - but the truth is that I don't want to go anywhere or see anyone. I assume they think I'm busy with the baby, busy doing baby-n-me classes or whatever it is that new mommas are supposed to do. It's hard to see people, to go places. It's hard to be happy when you feel like hiding under the covers. It's even worse to go out with friends and realize you're the one talking about death and writing a will, when everyone else just wants to talk about the new Batman movie. It's embarrassing, it makes me self conscious. I don't want to be the morbid one who can't get over it - so I just stay in. Don't answer the phone, don't even listen to the messages. There's fewer and fewer calls anyway, so at least I can feel a little less guilty about that.

The baby continues to be the ray of sunshine, even on hard days. He's so bright eyed and happy most of the time, he's just a delight. He keeps me sane, keeps me moving. It sucks to be away from him, I feel a little bit at sea. More and more I have to let go, though. I'm going to be working more, and I think that's a good thing. I have a hard time letting go, letting Dave take him and have fun with him without me. The more I'm at work, the more they'll have a chance to play together and develop their own schedule and routine. One foot in front of the other. One day at a time, right? I'll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.

getting by

I fell asleep standing up today. Just for a second really. The elevator in my office building is ancient, and if you press the button at the same time as someone else, you could be waiting the better part of 10 minutes to get on. I leaned my head back against the wall and let my laptop bag sink to the floor. The next thing I knew, I was blinking awake to the soft ding as the car arrived. I pulled my sunglasses down, even though I was still indoors.

The ladies I work with cluck at me, "Oh, she's a new mom, she must be so tired." Affectionate and taunting at the same time. "You have no idea" I want to say, but don't have the energy to go into how awful this week has been.

Because I am wonder woman and think I can do everything, I didn't just return to my job this week. No no, I agreed to start training for my new job in the evenings. My day job kept me away for 7 hours each day, plus 2 or 3 hours in the evening on Tuesday and Thursday. That's not the worst part, though. Dave taking over at home coincided with a mysterious illness, which we now know to be mono. He has zero energy, and while the baby bear is missing me - the one thing that calms him is walking around. Poor Dave barely has the energy to stand, let alone pace the floors trying to calm master AP. Add to that an elbow injury, and for the last two days he can barely hold the kid at all.

The saying goes that the Lord won't hand you anything that you're not able to handle, but more and more I think that's crap. Each time we feel like our heads are above water, that there's finally some sunshine around the corner, life hands us one more sucker punch to the gut, leaving us gasping for air. Right now I've got my fingers crossed hoping that at some point in my past I had mono and I'm immune. Within a few weeks we'll find out, and as Dave's symptoms begin to subside (hopefully soon) mine may start to bring me down.

"This isn't the way it's supposed to be" I keep thinking to myself, and while I suppose that's the bargaining stage of grief, it feels more like anger. I wouldn't trade anything for the time with Gus that we've had - he's an amazing child, mostly cheerful all the time and so much fun to be around. But man, this is hard. Ugh. At least it's Friday. There's some peace on the horizon.

what I haven't been doing

I spend a lot of time on the couch these days. Not as much as I did while I was pregnant, but there are days when it feels like Gus is nursing every 10 minute, and I'm totally pinned down. Fortunately, there isn't much that I have to get done, so I don't mind sitting down to feed the babe. I think about those who do this with a toddler, though, and I wonder how they manage it.

I finally saw Juno yesterday, and I'm in love with this song. I wanted to buy it from iTunes, but you have to buy the whole album and I really just wanted the song.

I've been knitting socks as a thank you for our midwives, and I have 2 and 1/2 socks complete. They are two different sizes, so I'm knitting a 3rd sock to match the 2nd one - which is the right size. I'm thinking about keeping the first one I knit and just redoing it to fit me. They're red with lots of stripes, and I have no photos because I don't feel like waking the baby up so I can go get the camera.

After I finish the socks, I'm going to get to work on the sheep mobile Dave and I planned to make. I have to knit at least 6 sheep, and I don't have a pattern or an idea how to do it. Once I'm finished with that, I want to make 2 more gifts for the other 2 midwives, and then another Sheldon for a pregnant friend. I also would like to knit up some pants for the baby, since none of the pants we have fit him yet. I think by the time I get to that, not only will it be too warm for pants, but he will probably be fitting in the ones that we have. I thought I would have a lot more time for knitting, but as it turns out, I never have two hands free at the same time.

I'm still trying to write about the labor - I want to remember the best parts of it. When I first tried to write about it, I got really sad when thinking about Paul and I haven't gone back to it. I know there are things in my memory that are fading that I would like to remember, so I'll try to get to it.

blink

I blink awake and see Dave, eyes just barely open, a smile on his face. For a moment we're in a time warp, and there's just us - smiling at each other in the afternoon light. A stolen nap, just the two of us curled together. The baby starts to fuss and we're drawn back into the present. Time speeds up and it's 11:00 before we have another chance to look at one another.

In the middle of the night, with Gus sucking away doing an alternating impression of Darth Vadar and a very determined but small piglet, I look over at Dave. He's asleep, his face is fixed in a scowl. I wonder if he's actually getting any rest, or if he's stuck in that half asleep/half awake state where we spend so much time.

This is so unfair. My husband, my super man, is so undeserving of this pain. He wanted babies 5 years ago, but he put his time line on hold and waited until I finally said "I'm ready." He went to every prenatal appointment, he made sure I ate extremely well through pregnancy, he walked me to yoga when I didn't want to go. He kept me motivated to go swimming on a regular basis. He was there for every minute of the labor. He didn't leave my side, even on the second night when he so badly needed sleep.

The only thing Dave had planned for the month of April was hanging out with baby and me. That's changed now. He's been cooking us food, doing all the laundry (including diapers on a daily basis) and getting up for midnight changings and feedings. He says he's not sleeping so he doesn't mind getting up, but I hate to wake him and try to be as quiet as possible - impossible with the snorting piglet. He's so worried about me, about my ability to cope with new motherhood at the same time as all this. I'm worried about him, that he's taken up so much with all his responsibility that he won't have a chance to bond with the kid-o and spend the time that he wants to spend when Gus is so little.

But then, there are moments like this one.

Moments where, despite everything, I know this little family is going to be amazing. And Gus is going to take us places we never would have dreamed. Dave is already a super dad, and he's only been doing it for two weeks. I'm so lucky I get to be a parent with him. He is amazing.

hardest yet

Yesterday was the hardest day I've had so far. It felt like I wasn't able to stop crying for hours, on and off. Dave and I went down to his mother's house, and we brought Gus with us. It's so hard to get all packed up to leave the house, it's stressful to get in the car and leave the neighborhood. It was so difficult to be with Dave's family at his mom's house, feeling this emptiness where Paul used to be. He was always stopping by when we were there, so it was hard to know that he wasn't about to walk in the door.

Gus is doing great, nursing like a champ. I was telling him yesterday that we don't have to be okay yet. It's alright if we just hang out. hole up, and stay put for awhile. I have to keep telling myself he isn't even 2 weeks old yet. Most folks aren't doing half the things I've been doing. Dave wants me to take it easier, and he's right. I was having chest pain yesterday, and I've also been having severe headaches everyday. I keep trying to diagnose myself - is it just the stress? Is it the hormones? Am I not getting enough to eat? Is it because my sleep is interrupted? The truth is that it's probably all of those things, and they contribute to an overall feeling of ick. Today we're chilling in the bedroom, and I plan to sleep once he goes back to sleep. All the books say to do that, but none of the books take into account the death of a loved one two days before the birth of your baby. Nobody's written the book on that yet, so I'm forging new territory.

I feel like I have to be doing everything, taking care of everyone. We still have a stocked fridge thanks to friends, but little things like cleaning up and doing the laundry - I feel like I have to be in charge. Dave is great, he doesn't mind doing all of those things, but I don't want him to be any more stressed out than he has to be. I know I can't take care of everyone, but it's hard to feel helpless when your spouse needs you. It's the little things I can control, so it's those that I try to do. I'm renewing my attempt to take it easy though. At least until the babe is 2 weeks old.

one breath

We're laughing, rolling on the floor, telling the story of the time Dave and Paul were chased by a UFO off of a frozen lake at night when they were just kids, and in the next breath I'm sobbing, thinking about Paul last Christmas, teasing Andy for not being tough enough to keep tromping up the sledding hill.

I had no idea that my heart could be so full of joy for the little person who's sitting in my lap. I keep telling Dave that I didn't realize I was a puzzle, and then a piece fell into place and it was like it had been missing my whole life.

I had no idea that my heard could be full of so much pain at the same time. There are times when I can't even picture Paul's face, the agony of it just takes over and I'm wracked with sobs.

I tell people that we're taking it one day, one hour, one breath at a time. I'm barely doing that, though. Friends have been so amazing, bringing food and coming to visit - it fills the empty spaces and when I'm on my best behavior it's easier to push the grief to the back and celebrate the happiness that is baby Gus. He is so much happiness. He's beautiful, he's healthy, he feeds like a champ and sometimes breathes like Darth Vader. We're going to make it through this, the three of us together. Sometimes it's just so hard to see what the next step is.

Dave is back at work today, and I'm doing really well. Gus and I had an awesome sleep last night, mostly 3 hour chunks at a time. I'm worried about Dave, though. Out there with all the strangers who have no idea how much pain he's in, so they don't know to be careful and sensitive with their words. At least here, at home, the only people I have to see are the ones I let in the door, so I know they'll be gentle.

One day at a time, though. Today's Monday. I don't have to get through Saturday today. Just Monday. And I have a sweet smelling little munchkin to help me.

with baby in lap

I found a comfortable position for typing, so I'm hoping that August will give me a few minutes to put down some very important things.

We're both healthy and taking it one breath at a time. I was full of energy for the first 24 hours after the birth, going up and down stairs, in and out of chairs and bed with ease. I've slowed down since then, with a warning midwife asking me to keep the stairs to once down and once up each day. My body is sore, and not just where you'd expect it to be. My neck is sore, my muscles ache. I remember someone telling me that I signed up for a marathon and then found out halfway through that it was actually a mountain climb. We reached the top and came back down, and now it's time to recover.

Emotionally, things are tricky. I knew an emotional let down was expected after the birth of a baby, with all those endorphins and adrenaline running, you can't help by come down from that. Usually that coming down is buoyed by your beautiful new child, and it is for me too. But it's also met with grief and sadness and uncertainty about the future. When I think about Gus and how much Paul had to teach him, sometimes it's just overwhelming. That's why we're taking it one breath, one step, one day at a time. That's all anyone can ask us to do.

Still, despite it all, I think that having this baby boy is the most amazing thing I have ever done. There was only once when my certainty wavered, when I wanted to give up, when I thought about just throwing in the towel. Thanks to Dave, and thanks to the awesome midwives we chose, I didn't do that. How Dave has managed to stay on his feet through the whole labor and now through these first few days is beyond me. He's fetching me food, he's doing the laundry, he barely has a second to breathe and take time for himself. I'm grateful to all of the friends and family and neighbors who are here to help. We certainly need you, now more than I had ever expected.

The camera isn't out as much as I had thought it would be. I'll be sure to take some shots of his gorgeous face today.