darling duckie

"on grief"

There has been a lot going on in the last couple of weeks. As most of you know, Tiffany and Spencers baby passed away before they could give birth. We are all so sad but feel a sense of peace. I wrote about it on the We Are Women blog yesterday. I would write about it more here but, to be honest with you, it is still sad and painful to think about it. I spent most of last week with no energy or desire to do anything. So for now, I will leave it at that.

I would like to thank everyone for all their love and prayers and support. It has truly been touching to see how so many rally together in times of grief and pain. I appreciate your friendship and love.

cousins

A few months ago we took some pictures of Millie with her cousin Barrett. They were so funny together, although Millie would not smile.

 

on the day she was born

I had stayed awake far too late. My body must have known, choosing to go into labor only a few hours after I had finally shut my eyes.

I was told that I would know when labor started. But I didn't really know what was going on. I just had a stomach ache. Maybe it took a while to make the connection because my brain was still trying desperately to sleep. I pulled my phone out and timed each stomach ache. Sure enough the pains had a pattern. They were far enough apart that I would just sleep for the 15 minutes inbetween.

I wanted Billy to wake up, to comfort me, but he slept through it all. Lucky to be a man.

The preparation for this experience had been very minimal. And when it was all happening, I was more frightened than I had realized. I was scared of what it meant to go through labor, to push a child out, to recover. I was scared because I had only ever held a few newborns before. There would be no passing her on to my sisters when she would cry. Billy had held even less.

Quite the pair we were.

Then there was the terror of the pain I felt and the pain I would feel. I fought each contraction, which made each one more painful. Silently I prayed that this was it because if it was going to be worse than this, I didn't want to even try.

Hours later the decision was made. We would have a c-section. It was the way it needed to be. To say that all the work from then on out was easy would be a flat out lie. The only thing that kept me from passing out or becoming uncontrollably hysterical was knowing that Billy was right there, holding my hand and reminding me to breath. Laying on my back, arms strapped, I would look him in the eyes. He was calm, quiet. I knew that he would not leave me. Then I would close my eyes, reminding myself "breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out."

As they pulled her out, with a faint little cry, she was born. She was tired and worn from the journey and so was I. She calmly waited as they weighed and measured and cleaned. All the while I lay on the table, looking up at Billy, both of us with tears in our eyes.

We had done it. We had created, suffered, survived, and now been rewarded with a little soul to love.

indulge me

...because these pictures where just too cute not to share.

never just a mom

 

 

Just Moms by Ash Leishman

I have a friend who makes documentaries. (Doesn't that sound cool? I believe that just by knowing her my coolness factor increases several notches.) She has traveled the world working on them.

A few months ago she came over and spent the day with the child and me. She followed us around on our walk and watched us read together all the while she asked me questions about being a mom. It was still so new and raw that my thoughts kept going back to how hard it is. But every time I watch this movie I remember how much I love being Millie's mum. It doesn't mean it's not hard anymore but I am more in love with that little girl now and am so happy that she is mine. And you know what? It is easy to see how much Millie has grown and changed physically since this was shot. But what really stands out to me is how much I have changed. For the better. And it is all thanks to Millie.

So thank you, Ashley, for letting me be a part of your project and giving me tangible evidence that I really have grown and that I truly love being a mom.

 

Ash Leishman is busy revamping her professional life so for now you can see more of here work here. And she did our family pictures here.

a pox on both your houses

Were you aware that the chicken pox still roamed the earth?

Actually, I wasn't aware it was so rare and that there was a vaccine for it until only a couple of weeks ago.

I remember very little from getting chicken pox as a child other than the pink goo that we put on the spots. There was that time my dad tickled me, which pulled one of the scabs off that left a mark.

When Millicent had a couple of spots on her little body, I didn't even consider chicken pox. A rash, maybe. Allergic reation, I hoped not. But chicken pox? From where? From who?

I think I was more freaked out by the spots than she was. To me she looked like Madame Mim. You know, like this:

(source)

In reality she looked like this:

Or like this:

And once she looked like this:

But don't be fooled. She was not crying from pain or itchiness. She just wanted the remote. She could not have cared less that she had the chicken pox.

equilibrium

(A couple weeks ago Millicent and I went to the Park Cafe in Salt Lake with my sister and her husband. Great place and yummy food.)

I have been so tired lately. A few weeks before Christmas, I had surgery to have some kidney stones removed. After a long two weeks of pain, infection, sickness, I finally got better (after a visit to the Instacare, of course). By the end of it all I had lost 10 pounds. Since my body keeps holding onto some of that baby weight I thought "How Wonderful!"

My body did not agree.

Ever since then I have been a little off. Always hungry, obsurdly thirsty, and so terribly tired. I think my body is trying to find an equilibrium. It feels that while I am nursing, those extra pounds must remain.

Oh well.

rollin' around

Mornings are crazy with Millie. (Once she has eaten) she is so happy and chatty. The two of us hang out on the bed and she rolls and dives and squeals and giggles. I love it.

the golden sun

She delights in seeing everything that moves around her. She peers over my shoulder with a look of curiosity while we sit in the pews at church. She looks at the children, at their parents, at their toys, and at their books. If she could touch all that she sees, then she would be fulfilled. She crawls to the things she wants to get but shouldn't (glass bowls and electrical cords and the like).

When she sleeps, she tosses and turns, sometimes sleeping on her back while other times sleeping on her face with her little bum sticking up in the air. When she wakes up, she prattles away to herself, rehearsing stories that she will tell me as I come in to greet her. When I am too slow, she carefully and skillfully pulls her little body up to the side of the crib until she is standing. Though she has mastered the art of standing up, she is not so confident in her ability to sit back down. So she screams and cries until one of us rescues her. And if you are the one to do it, you are graced with a giggle and squeal and smile that leaves you wanting even more from that little child of ours.

(All these photos were taken by Billy, on a warm Sunday afternoon.)

smiley

Millie loves looking in the mirror after her bath. She just thinks it's the greatest things since lunch.