If I was tagging my blog entries with certain themes, this one would certainly go under the "TMI" tag. So continue reading at your own overloaded informational risk.
Today I am mourning the (reversible if I am ever crazy enough) end of my fertility. When Nina was born, I looked at Josh and asked, "Are you sure you don't want to do this again?" Her baby-ness was just too perfect--soft, cuddly, cute, innocent.... a second chance for me to be softer and cuddlier through the infant and toddler phases than I had been with Elena. "Yeah, I'm sure. We're done." Matter-of-fact, no room for argument, not even entertaining romantic ideas of having 8 kids.
As Nina started daycare and our monthly bill swelled to just $20 shy of our mortgage, the financial realities of having multiple children started to set in. When Elena turned two just a few weeks before my brother's wedding, her mandatory plane ticket purchase tipped our family's east coast flight costs into the quadruple digit range. Before we had kids, the adage about kids being expensive was just some vague cliché. Now I get it.
Money aside, there's also an adjustment to the time and attention you are able to spend with your children. Most kids are resilient enough to handle this adjustment well, and eventually most enjoy having a sibling to pal around with, but it doesn't mean that the adjustment period is easy or without moments of meltdowns. I tend to over-analyze things, leading to not-so-helpful feelings of uncertainty or guilt, which may explain my feelings of inadequacy when trying to meet the needs of my girls. Nina is just about 10 months old. I can't believe it's gone by so quickly. With Elena, I felt like I was able to savor her baby-hood a bit more. Nina's just raced by as I was losing my mind trying to keep things together at home, at work, and in my head. She doesn't know the difference, but I do. Most of the time, I feel like I'm doing okay. When the two are simultaneously melting down and howling about the pain of it all, I do feel a little paralyzed. Which one do I comfort first? How will that affect the other child in the moment? And in the long-run? Should I just let them both cry and get us to our next destination?
Leaving the house in the morning was hard enough when I just had myself to get ready. With Elena as a baby, she was always pooping on the way out the door or spitting up all over herself. Now she's amenable enough, but I can't get her to eat breakfast before getting into the car (thankfully it's just the timing she's been most picky about--she still eats a variety of things willingly). Nina wakes up happy, but she starts to get cranky and tired when it's time to leave and wails if I put her on the floor to get dressed, brush my teeth, eat breakfast, etc. Our tear-filled mornings are constantly cited by Josh as a major reason we shouldn't have more kids.
And then there's my selfishness. You know, the desire for "me time". I need time for myself, and that is inversely proportional to the number of kids we have.
Watching Josh's sisters gain back their freedom by taking their kids with them to later than 9 pm social events, eating/peeing/showering without children climbing on/towards them, leaving the house alone without kids, etc makes me hopeful that we'll get to that place at some point. That point would just grow more distant with another child, and my sanity has been thread-bare at best lately. Not really advisable to drawing out the journey towards greater independence.
So I guess I've drawn out a good enough argument to myself why having an IUD placed today was a good idea. I'm just sad to be done having babies. It's weird to be on the other side of having kids. Before having children there was a wide open world of procreational possibilities. Even after one, there was still the realistic possibility of more. And now.... we're done.
But I suppose it's just being done with the beginning, and now we're just at the start of the middle which as I've mentioned above, is the parental sweet spot between toddler tantrums and teenage drama. I've been savoring Nina's early bedtime followed by Elena's request for snuggles. Indulging Elena is made all the more easy by her clear little girl voice asking politely, "Mommy, can I please have some special time wiff you?" How can I say no? Let the parental sweet spot.... begin!
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Pick Me Up, Dust Me Off.
This past month has been one of the single most challenging periods of my life. (I think.) In one month, I have become totally depleted. I think perhaps January of my intern year was the last time that I felt this bodily and emotionally exhausted--January was my 7th month as an intern, and I had just finished two consecutive months of obstetrics rotations, one of which was in Phoenix. I was on my ICU month, and was still waiting for my first vacation that year. One of my co-interns had already had her second vacation. I didn't care about anything at that point--I was just numb with exhaustion.
That's how I've felt the past two weeks, only now I have a 2.5 year old who goes from happy and independent to wailing and clingy at the drop of a hat. Since I am fresh out of reserves, it doesn't take much to set me off these days. Elena is in parrot mode, repeating everything that is said to her or around her, only she does so at often painfully poignant times. We visited a college friend, her husband, and her daughter while in Boston a few weeks ago. Elena's ear-splitting high-pitched laugh was a bit too much for her new friend, who lamented that Elena's laugh was "hurting her ears." In being the nighttime single parent for three weeks, I've said a few times to Elena in melt down mode while trying to get Nina down, "This is a sleeping bed. You can cry, but you can't do it in this bed."
Those two things have come together recently. When Nina starts to cry, Elena says in halting staccato, "Stop. Cry. Ing. Ni. Na! You're hurting my ears! No. Cry. Ing. Ni. Na!!!!" Not soothing. I get that now.
When we got back from Boston/RI, I thought maybe Weeks 1 and 2 of single nighttime parenting had weakened me to the point of catching Josh's 2-3 week laryngitis virus. I had weird alterations in taste (salty, scratchy), so started slamming myself with all sorts of herbal concoctions so that I could make it through Week 3. I had bought some sage and thyme to make tea (bunch of herb in a mug, boiling water, cover and steep x 20 minutes, sweeten with maple syrup or other), but didn't get around to using the thyme until this week. Everyone commented on how wonderfully it smelled yesterday at work. I looked up wearily at a coworker and said, "It's my thyme. I just wanted to feel nurtured."
I've been living off of caffeine and borderline crappy food. I've still been eating relatively well, though I've also become an expert at justifying my treats. Trust me--if you were nursing two, were partnerless for three weeks, still working nearly full time, flying cross country alone with two, and trying to keep it all together, you'd find the justification, too.
But now we're in recovery mode, which started last week. I was half-dreading seeing friends of ours for dinner their first night visiting from NY. I felt SO BLAH. But it must have been just what I needed. Michele, apart from her prenatal yoga teacher training, is home with Elijah, and has been for all of his 19 months. Our conversation reminded me of an Onion article, which I highly recommend reading. But validating each other's mommy concerns and successes and failures (okay, let's just say "failures" since they're not really all that bad) must have been just what I needed, because I left dinner feeling hopeful and rejuvenated. Sitting on the U of A campus on a warm sunny afternoon with Ranee, Michele, Elijah, and Josh was lovely (sorry, girls, daycare for you!) and further movement in the right direction. I felt compelled to do a cartwheel, and then work a little on my handstand--cartwheels: the ultimate symbol of freedom and happiness.
Now this week is back to the routine since our friends have left. Wow, have I missed the routine. I think when you are young and/or don't have many responsibilities, routine sounds like a horrid boredom trap--the allure of safety tethering people down to pitiful little lives. It's in the routine that I have found freedom--the freedom to know which yoga classes I can make at lunch time, the freedom to buy food and prepare nourishing meals that will fuel my family, the freedom to schedule massages and acupuncture treatments, the freedom to finally write a blog entry. Basically, the freedom to care for myself. If you don't have this time carved out in your life in some way, there's a good chance it just won't happen.
Today I went to acupuncture for the first time. I'm probably cheapening Charlie's skills by just calling it acupuncture, but you get the point. I've had "Mommy-Baby Hip Carry Syndrome," so named by me, characterized by pain along the upper portion of your pelvis on the side that you carry your child. Coupled with my above depletion, it has made me exceptionally irritable at home. Nina craves physical contact, and I've been happy to give it to her until the past couple of months when it just causes me pain. Apparently I've strained my obliques and sartorius muscles on my left side (at least I'm free to use my right hand!), and all of my yoga stretching has been causing my tendon attachments to become inflamed and "frayed" according to Charlie.
So here's to being gentle with ourselves, even in our journey towards healing. I hope we both find the time to put our oxygen masks on first before attempting to do so for others.
That's how I've felt the past two weeks, only now I have a 2.5 year old who goes from happy and independent to wailing and clingy at the drop of a hat. Since I am fresh out of reserves, it doesn't take much to set me off these days. Elena is in parrot mode, repeating everything that is said to her or around her, only she does so at often painfully poignant times. We visited a college friend, her husband, and her daughter while in Boston a few weeks ago. Elena's ear-splitting high-pitched laugh was a bit too much for her new friend, who lamented that Elena's laugh was "hurting her ears." In being the nighttime single parent for three weeks, I've said a few times to Elena in melt down mode while trying to get Nina down, "This is a sleeping bed. You can cry, but you can't do it in this bed."
Those two things have come together recently. When Nina starts to cry, Elena says in halting staccato, "Stop. Cry. Ing. Ni. Na! You're hurting my ears! No. Cry. Ing. Ni. Na!!!!" Not soothing. I get that now.
When we got back from Boston/RI, I thought maybe Weeks 1 and 2 of single nighttime parenting had weakened me to the point of catching Josh's 2-3 week laryngitis virus. I had weird alterations in taste (salty, scratchy), so started slamming myself with all sorts of herbal concoctions so that I could make it through Week 3. I had bought some sage and thyme to make tea (bunch of herb in a mug, boiling water, cover and steep x 20 minutes, sweeten with maple syrup or other), but didn't get around to using the thyme until this week. Everyone commented on how wonderfully it smelled yesterday at work. I looked up wearily at a coworker and said, "It's my thyme. I just wanted to feel nurtured."
I've been living off of caffeine and borderline crappy food. I've still been eating relatively well, though I've also become an expert at justifying my treats. Trust me--if you were nursing two, were partnerless for three weeks, still working nearly full time, flying cross country alone with two, and trying to keep it all together, you'd find the justification, too.
But now we're in recovery mode, which started last week. I was half-dreading seeing friends of ours for dinner their first night visiting from NY. I felt SO BLAH. But it must have been just what I needed. Michele, apart from her prenatal yoga teacher training, is home with Elijah, and has been for all of his 19 months. Our conversation reminded me of an Onion article, which I highly recommend reading. But validating each other's mommy concerns and successes and failures (okay, let's just say "failures" since they're not really all that bad) must have been just what I needed, because I left dinner feeling hopeful and rejuvenated. Sitting on the U of A campus on a warm sunny afternoon with Ranee, Michele, Elijah, and Josh was lovely (sorry, girls, daycare for you!) and further movement in the right direction. I felt compelled to do a cartwheel, and then work a little on my handstand--cartwheels: the ultimate symbol of freedom and happiness.
Now this week is back to the routine since our friends have left. Wow, have I missed the routine. I think when you are young and/or don't have many responsibilities, routine sounds like a horrid boredom trap--the allure of safety tethering people down to pitiful little lives. It's in the routine that I have found freedom--the freedom to know which yoga classes I can make at lunch time, the freedom to buy food and prepare nourishing meals that will fuel my family, the freedom to schedule massages and acupuncture treatments, the freedom to finally write a blog entry. Basically, the freedom to care for myself. If you don't have this time carved out in your life in some way, there's a good chance it just won't happen.
Today I went to acupuncture for the first time. I'm probably cheapening Charlie's skills by just calling it acupuncture, but you get the point. I've had "Mommy-Baby Hip Carry Syndrome," so named by me, characterized by pain along the upper portion of your pelvis on the side that you carry your child. Coupled with my above depletion, it has made me exceptionally irritable at home. Nina craves physical contact, and I've been happy to give it to her until the past couple of months when it just causes me pain. Apparently I've strained my obliques and sartorius muscles on my left side (at least I'm free to use my right hand!), and all of my yoga stretching has been causing my tendon attachments to become inflamed and "frayed" according to Charlie.
So here's to being gentle with ourselves, even in our journey towards healing. I hope we both find the time to put our oxygen masks on first before attempting to do so for others.
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