darling duckie

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.

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 day with the animals

The other day Millicent spent a lovely afternoon playing with the animals that roam her blue bedroom. She giggled at the hopping frogs that ribbit-ed in reply and gave slobbery kisses to a passing blue butterfly. There was an elephant just the right size for a miniature person to lay her head upon. The giraffes were stuck on the wall so they just watched and shouted periodic insults to the duck that was being cuddled, but only because they were so jealous. There was even a tree that was shaped quite a bit like mother dear, which Millie rather enjoyed climbing. In fact, she liked that most of all.

the sickness that would not end

Remember a few weeks ago how Millie got her first cold? As soon as she got over it, Billy and I got sick. Me with a sore throat, him with a cough. After three weeks of being sick, we decided we had had enough and made a doctors appointment. The doc gave us antibiotics and sent us on our merry way. Just after a couple of days of taking the medicine, we started to feel our old selves again. This was all over the weekend.

And then yesterday came. I got a headache, stuffy nose, and sore throat... again. And today we have added the chills, feeling like I have a fever though the thermometer says "No way Jose," and a child who, although healthy, has no mercy for me.

And it is only 1 o'clock.

So here I sit, on my bed, surrounded by mounds of used tissues and cough drops, trying to pop my ears and sleep.

At least Millie was nice enough to take a nap so that I can sleep a little. So off I go to take a needed nap.

Ciao!

She is just so cute when she sleeps.

of dolls and bicycles {We Are Women Blog}

When I am trying to figure out my thoughts or opinions, I seem to need to write essays to help me sort everything out. And although it seems to have taken me all summer to write a real essay for the We Are Women blog, I finally did it and learned something about myself in the process. It feels nice when I get something organized, especially when what I am organizing is this chaotic brain of mine.

I hope you go over and read it and tell us what your experience is.

Of Dolls and Bicycles

And in case you missed it, there have been other writers and quotes that have been posted since the last time I directed you over there, so look around and see what you've missed!

the rut

I tripped the other week and fell into a rut. It is probably not the biggest rut I have been stuck in but it seems pretty all encompassing.

My hair is in a rut. My hobbies are in ruts. My spirit has been in a rut.

When Millie was born,  I was in a bit of a funk. Not so extreme as to be serious but it took a couple of months and some visits with my doctor to get me back to being me again.

It was amazing the difference I felt.

In the last couple of weeks, though, Millie was so hungry all the time she was waking up when she had been sleeping peacefully. I fed her and took care of her. When the growth spurt was over, she was in the habit of waking up in the wee hours of the night. We moved her to her own room, a much more emotional experience for me than I would have expected, and let her cry it out. It was long and slow and very painful for my heart.

While taking care of this, I failed to see the rut in the road and fell face first. I find myself unable to pick my body up in the morning and go out to exercise with my friend. I take naps with Millie and we sleep for hours at a time. I want to get things done, but don't know where to start and, more often than not, never really do.

But give me a few good nights sleep, some time with Billy, and some creative outlets and I think I will be just fine.

 

i go out walkin' {take one}

Our little family likes to talk walks around the neighborhood. Some days, when it isn't raining and Millie won't fall asleep, Millie and I go strolling around until she relaxes and sleeps. Then I sit on a bench and read or wander around, taking pictures of flowers and blossoms.

 

 

 

 

 

thoughts on motherhood... so far

Before little miss Millie was born, I was terrified of being a mother. I knew that it was what I was meant to do and really, in the long run, I knew that I wanted to be a mother. But growing up, I was a terrible, lazy babysitter. I have memories of children running away from me, locking me out of the bathroom and of me praying they would fall asleep so I could just read. I came to realize that babies and children, like horses and dogs, could smell fear. I tried to pretend there was no fear on my being but apparently I reeked of it. And, like horses and dogs, they took advantage. Running around, crazy, yelling things like “You can’t make me eat dinner! You’re not my mother.” And it was true. I was not. And so I accepted my lack of control and waited until their mother was home.

Even those little newborns that my sisters were always doting on were slightly terrifying. People spoke of their sweetness but they always just cried when I held them. They said they smelled heavenly but honestly I tried not to get close enough to smell. They even said how beautiful they always looked and I felt so guilty thinking that they looked more like little aliens than little people.

A few weeks before Millie was born, the fear of what was going to happen hit me. Sure, I knew that we were going to have a kid but all of the sudden, I realized that that child was going to be a newborn. A fragile, squished, crying newborn. I didn’t even really know how to hold one, and I knew that Billy didn’t either. What if she just cried and cried and didn’t care that I was her mother? What if she hated me? I was often heard crying “Oh heaven help me.”

When she was born, I honestly didn’t know what I felt. As I lay on the operating table, looking over at the child that they claimed they pulled out of me, I was a little numb (and not just from the pain medicine that was surging through my body). Eventually, when I held her, I was amazed at how cute I found her cubby little face to be (even though I thought she looked a little orange). She was sweet and tiny and oh so fragile and yet I was not scared of her. (Although… I did ask the nurse how to hold her and if it would eventually not be so awkward.) I found that I loved her with a crazy frenzy that I had never experienced. I thought she was the most beautiful baby there ever was. And oh how sweet she smelled. So delicate and tender.

I finally understood why people loved babies, especially their own.

Being a mother is nothing like I expected, though I am not sure I knew what to expect. I find it exhausting and sometimes just wish she would sleep so I could just read.

And yet, I absolutely adore her when she sighs in her sleep, or looks loopy after she has eaten. I can’t help but laugh when she works so hard to get those little toots out. I giggle at the little faces she makes. I have spent countless hours watching her sleep. I can’t help feel a special sort of satisfaction when I can get her to stop crying after everyone else has tried. I love how she now watches me and Billy, like she is seeing us for the first time. When she smiles and stretches, it is the sweetest thing I have ever seen. Even when she is about to cry and her pouted little lips look so sad, I just want to squeeze her and love her even more.

On Friday, she was two months old and changing every day. I actually find myself being sad she is already so different than she was. My heart sinks a little bit when I think of that but then she makes up for it by holding her head up by herself, sleeping longer through the night, and almost giggling at the faces we make at her.

 

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Check out the We Are Women Blog for links to some inspiring essays, articles, and books for Mother's Day and have a great one!

just a little something

~I would write something but #1 the child waketh and that means no time to write anything and #2 I am not sure what to write about. I tend to stay at home, inside, cuddling the little stinker so that she will fall asleep so that I can take a shower and maybe even make the bed (big maybe though). Our day to day activities don't exactly translate to exciting writing. But I hear people just like to see Millie now anyway so here is a little of Miss Squeeky Cheese:)

scenes and stories from the hospital

• We didn't think she would come early. In fact, I didn't think she would come at all but that is another story entirely. We expected to have to be induced... but luckily she came a few days early.
• When we got to the hospital, we had to pick up that phone to have the door opened for us. I found myself unsure of what to say when I picked up the phone: "Hello, I am in labor." But what if I wasn't really and it really was just me being silly. It cause me more anxiety than it should have.
• I didn't realize how terrified I really was of the whole "labor and delivery" until we were at the hospital and the anxiety was overwhelming. Billy helped me through it.
• I got an epidural. It fell out and they had to do it all over again. Again, I was a bit freaked out.
• When I was druged up, we watched soccer and basketball games. (Later that night, I woke up talking to the nurse about the soccer game and asking her if my IV was British like the players were. I knew it was jibberish but I could not stop talking.)
• Although everything was going great, my body decided it was done trying to let Miss Millie out. I was stuck at a 7 for more than 4 hours, until we decided that we were going to have to do a c-section. It was a calm decision. And it was the right decision. Turned out the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck twice. Had we not done the c-section, it would have gotten serious and scary very quickly.
• Turns out I don't like having surgery. When my eyes weren't closed (and I was breathing deep breaths), they were staring at Billy who was right by my side. He helped me survive.
• When they pulled her out, the nurses declared that she was a big baby and that she had curly red hair. I thought I might have just given birth to a red-headed toddler. Had I not been laying down already, I would have probably passed out. (She just looked big... the chubby little thing. And although her hair was not really red, it has little tints of red in it.)
• I could not hold Millie when she was first born. I was so shaky and tired from the medication, I was too scared to hold her for a few hours. Eventually, while everyone was talking to one another, Billy brought her to my side, layed her next to my face so I could kiss her sweet smelling, red little cheeks. It felt like it was just the three of us in the whole world and I couldn't have been happier.
• The rest of that week is a bit of a blur. Maybe from the medication. Maybe from the life altering experience. Maybe a little of both.
• Considering how hard the entire pregnancy was on us, the labor and delivery went very smooth. We were blessed.

Photo Credit: Most of the photos were taken by Billy, some by me. The last one was taken by Bella Baby Photography.