Do you feel as battered by this last month as I do?  I bet you are exhausted from all that growing, all the learning of new skills, all the new social understandings necessary to function in this confusing world.  New places, new faces, new smells, new tastes, new sleep schedule, new independence, new perspective.  New, new, new, new, new! It's making me tired just thinking about it. 

I hope that you will see my honest confessions as a strength. I am a painfully honest person, and I hope you  know that despite any phases or hardships we encounter in this complicated mother/daughter place - know this:

I admire you.  

I respect you.  

I adore you. 

I support you.

In short, I love you.  

Rinse. Repeat.

In my imagination, I see you as a young mother, reading these posts, finding comfort in knowing this simple truth:  We do not need to find pleasure in the daily tasks of caring for a baby in order to experience the deep joy that having a child does indeed bring.

I sat at the kitchen table last week, sobbing.  I laid my head down between my arms, lost to despair and frustration.  I had been trying to allow you to put yourself back to sleep without nursing, and after an hour, I gave in.  I have never felt such defeat.  Motherhood is such a mixed bag of emotions.  One is required to trust one's own instincts, but simultaneously know that a mother's instincts are not always for the good of the child.  For example, it is my maternal instinct to give you anything you want, but I know that you need to reach your own places of frustration, that I am not here to meet your every need.  You are so capable already!  It shocks me.  

After I had that crying fit, I grabbed my journal thinking that writing would be the best soothing aid.  However, I ended up sitting in the bathtub just reading previous entries.  I stumbled upon several underlined phrases, the first of which was, "Parenting is guesswork at best."  And it made me realize that I had been in this place before, and more importantly, I would find my way out.  That I was capable too!

As we confront these personal deficiencies and subsequent resources together, I stumble into the deepest satisfaction, a satisfaction wrought with the confirmation of this decision to procreate.  As you grow into the gorgeous, smart, and kind young lady I see developing before my eyes, so will I grow into the mother that you will know.  I find myself ever anxious that you will find my personality distasteful to you (after all, part of being a daughter is being annoyed with one's own mother).  Even if we are not a good personality match, I hope we are close.  

Your father and I were discussing our long-term financial goals, and as I pondered retirement living in another country, I immediately balked because I would be too far from you and your family.  I hadn't realized that I expected that we would always live in proximity.  I hadn't even known this was a desire.  I am a free bird, living far from home for many years now.  I never understood it, but now I sympathize with my own mother.  One of her strongest desires in life is to have her children all together.  

As I uncovered this hidden expectation, I began to search for more expectations that might send you a message of disapproval before I have a chance to keep them in check.  So I suppose I will say it now, and whisper it to you every cherished day that you live under my roof:

"Fly, little star.  You are free."

Developmental Notes, for record-keeping:

PERSONALITY

You are such a good baby.  This month has brought on a needy side of you, since you are experiencing frustration with your immobility, but strong desire to explore the world of toys and food (and Mom's coffee) that you are waking up to.  I still suspect introversion, as you will often sit in a reverie, staring quietly at the cosmos.  Even as I read you books, you sit contentedly, enjoying the fluctuations of my voice.  Well, if you are not introverted, you are introspective, for sure.  You are quick to laugh for the people you know, and love to be tickled.  Your belly laugh is perfection.  

If you get into a fit of frustration and neediness, I will often have people over.  The change in pace and the new stimulation of vocal inflections and gestures (often card-playing) keeps you content for quite a while.  Are you going to inherit the love of studying people from your mother, or will you be more inclined to study the stars, like your father?

DEVELOPMENT

In this last month, you have perfected rolling over.  You are almost an independent sitter as well.  You are your least cranky while sitting up, so I know you are enjoying the fresh perspective of the world.  You are much more adroit, grabbing toys more skillfully.  Last month, you had a very low tolerance for your jump-a-roo (what a ridiculous name), but I had a wild hair to raise the seat, and now you love it.  On a good day, it will entertain you for an hour! In fact, last week, you bounced yourself to sleep in it!  So funny.

You are a drooling machine, and I suspect a tooth revealing any day.  Your hair has grown in a bit, and it is darker than I thought it would be.  I am looking forward to putting obnoxious bows in it.

We have moved you from the infant tub to the adult tub and have increased baths to nightly.  You absolutely love it, and I have to admit, I love it too.  Dad will make dinner as I sit and watch you learn how to splash.

FEEDING

You have learned so much skill in eating solids!  Depending on the consistency of the food, which I make, you have begun to learn how to keep that pesky tongue from poking the food back out.  You love sweet potatoes, but so far it's a no-go on avocado, green beans, and peas - but I will keep trying!  For now, we are sticking to carrots, sweet potatoes, banana, applesauce.  

We are both still enjoying nursing, though you also do fine with formula when I don't have the supply or when Dad is watching you.  

SLEEPING

I have been a tad obsessed with your sleeping habits.  I write everything down (just as I always have.  Just in case you ever need to know how many diapers I changed in your lifetime, it will all be right there for you, kiddo.  You're welcome.) Your dad and I speak constantly about how to help you.  I expect a lot from you, and honestly - once I take a step back, I realize just how good of a sleeper you are.  You put yourself to sleep, you love your bed, you take consistent naps at roughly the same time of day.  You go to bed easily around 7pm and stay asleep until roughly 12am.

Then you are up every 3 hours.  12am. 3am. 6am.  Sigh. 

We are on a mission to assist you with your night wakings.  You are not hungry, and you are not in pain.  You are simply involving Mum in your comfort process; I nurse you and we both go right back to bed (a 10-min ordeal at most).  But I don't want to perpetuate this cycle when it's not necessary.  It's hard to know exactly how to proceed, as many people will give you all kinds of advice.  Dad and I are thinking that having you cry it out (I am a firm believer in it, I just don't know if I have what it takes to follow through consistently) will be one of the only ways to irradiate this behavior.  Maybe this is naive, I'll let you know next month.

Either way, sleep is good.  We love sleep in this household.  We will totally make fun of you if you chose not to fit in.

OUTINGS AND EVENTS

We went to Los Angeles this month, and you were a trooper!  Not only was it your first flight, but you were sick.  The trip down was hard for us both, but I managed to have the foresight to bring the sling, and it saved us!  You were able to catch a few zzzs and god bless those zzzs.  The flight home was a piece of cake.  Note: fly in the morning.  Note: ask for a seat for the baby if there is one.  Note: FLY IN THE MORNING. I do not relish another flight any time soon (read: until you are able to be entertained by a screen), but overall - we survived quite well.  You got to meet your other cousins and Aunt Monica and Uncle Jorge.  You got to snuggle with Gpa Cliff for the first time, as well as meet your Great Grandma Ruth.

The rest of the month, you've enjoyed a regular coming and going of fine ladies, here to cheer us up with coffee, cakes, and cards.  Delight!  This month, we also received the amazing news that Aunt Jess is pregnant with TWINS!  These twins will most likely be born right around your first bday.  How fun! Instant family.

You accompanied Dad and I to my ex-boss' house for a party, which means you finally got to meet all those faces whose voices you heard throughout my pregnancy.  What a team of co-workers.  I already really miss them.

You also had another sleepover at Gma's house so Mom and Dad could enjoy a date night.  What a great time we all had.  I am telling you, it will behoove you to live by me (no pressure) if you have children (no pressure), because I cannot tell you what an immense help Dad's parents have been to my daily sanity. 

Happy celebration of 7 months on this gorgeous planet, baby star.

It wasn't until I was rocking quietly with Bowie today, singing her a song as she contentedly sucked her thumb that I experienced a moment of clarity, finally able to get a small glimpse of the beauty of what is happening to me.  This ache of unhappiness is not discontent with life, but it is severe birthing pains.  I am becoming a mother, and the process of becoming feels more like the tearing I felt in childbirth than the gorgeous visual I saw in "Cosmos" depicting the evolution of the human race.  Where did I get the romantic notion that evolving is clean and contained?  It's so so messy inside of me right now, and millions of creatures have gone through millions of years of severe pains to become who they are today.  Like in childbirth, perhaps I will find some peace when I stop fighting the pain and begin to give myself over to its spiritual and important purpose.  I don't get to be who I once was.  What the hell am I fighting so hard for?  Why the hell is it breaking my heart so much?

I suppose a certain amount of melancholy is necessary when a chapter is over and a new one begins.

I suppose it's natural to feel this way.

I suppose many parents can relate.

I suppose I should be gentle with myself.

5 months old!? I remember that the first (well, all) months of pregnancy felt like I was watching a slow motion film of my life.  The last five have been like a frenetic Madonna video, as I seek to grasp and hold and let go and be flexible and have fun.

After 8 years of waiting to have a baby, then the last 2 years which contained finally agreeing that we wanted to start trying, the actually trying, then the pregnancy, delivery, and newborn stage, I can say that we are finally really enjoying this part.  This, THIS is what we signed up for...the nudging, guiding, and ultimately watching of a human being of our own DNA becoming aware.  We get to show you how we've most enjoyed this planet and existence, and then you will in turn show us.   Every time I get to pick you up after a nap, and you smile with delight, I feel so lucky, so deeply satisfied. We adore you, star.

And aware you are becoming.  I see it most in the moments where you realize that there is a person connected to those feed bags you greedily suckle.  You pull off, surprised to hear my voice.  You lock eyes with me and that moment, that single moment, is worth a lifetime of waiting for.  Your eyes burrow into my being, seeing me for exactly as I am to you (which is a strange notion to me in itself.  You will never know me outside of Mum.  That I existed before you, had love affairs, used to sing in public,  was sassy to my own mother, once didn't know how to drive a car or doubted I would ever find love - the Candace outside of you will never exist in your mind).  But your eyes, judge-y though they be, are kind.  You are soft, patient, observant, and spirited.

You have been consistently cooing, making vowel sounds and pursing your lips.  It is in the last few weeks that those coos have sounded expressive, voiced as a reaction to your world, which is ever-increasing.  Sometimes, as you comfort yourself to sleep, I swear your complaints sound like words.  'Moooommmyyy!' Ouch.  You are newly interested in toys you seemed oblivious to last month. Your favorite is this atomic toy that is easy to hold.  You also love the play key-ring at Grandma Jean's house. You still seem very easy-going, if not a bit short-tempered, but always easy to console...and easy to read. 

You still love the monkey on the playbar above your seat, but you've awakened to the hippo and the lion as well.  You've realized that your flails can manipulate the entire contraption, and this brings you great wonder and joy.  This also brings me the great challenge of trying to keep socks on your active feet as you kick and kick and kick.

You have only just begun to show the slightest preference for me above others, and only in that you follow me intently as I move about.  You now know when I leave the room after putting you down for naps, and sometimes this makes you upset indeed.  However, you get over it very quickly and suck your thumb loudly for comfort as I stand outside the room, door closed. I am always listening, my star.  For a few precious years, your Dad and I are your safety net.

Was my mother always on the other side of the door? 

SLEEP:

I have one word.
Regression.
(It's okay. Moms don't need to sleep anyway).

You are still "technically" sleeping through the night on your best nights, but not for the glorious 12 hours as you were before.  Instead, you now like to get up around midnight.  I used to use this as a feeding, but when I realized you were getting more than enough nutrition during the day and that you were most likely waking out of habit than hunger, I decided to try simply picking you up and helping rock you back to sleep,  but not to sit down in our nursing chair so that you wouldn't assume food was coming.  Success!  You have taken to falling asleep quickly in my arms.  Hopefully, in the next few weeks, we will cut that wake time entirely.

One of the reasons for the regression was vaccinations.  I think the last round of immunizations really stuffed you up, and this prevented you from self-soothing with your thumb.  It was so pathetic, nothing is more sad than a sick baby.  We scooped you up and tried to help you sleep upright.

This month we also focused on your sleep at Grandma Jean's house.  You are getting better and better at going down awake and sleeping longer than an hour.  At home, no problem.  But I don't blame you; it's always hard to sleep at someone else's house.  You did sleep well when you spent the weekend there, so perhaps that was just what you needed...time to adjust.

SCHEDULE:

Your schedule becomes looser and looser as far as actual time of day that things occur.  However, we are consistently performing the same actions in the same sequence, and I believe that your ability to predict our routine is one reason you are easy-going.  You know when you will be fed next, you know that your nap comes after an hour or so of playing.  I have been able to increase our 3-hour cycle to 4-hours on occasion, and I've also begun to cluster feed before bedtime to ensure those calories will keep you all full through the night.  You sleep awesomely in the morning, but your naps are shorter and shorter as the day goes on.  I've also experimented with keeping you up longer than an hour at a time, but if I miss that window, it's hard to get you relaxed enough to sleep.  Momma's always watching - in a non-creepy way, of course.

Loosely:
7am: Wake, feed, infant seat activity time
8am: Nap
10am: Wake, feed, get dressed for day, play-mat for activity time
11am: Nap
12:30pm: Wake, feed, play-mat or swing, maybe a walk or run errands for activity time
1:30pm: Nap
2:30pm: Wake, feed, lay on bed or sit in seat and talk to Momma as she cleans your room
3:30pm: Nap
4:30pm: Wake, feed, swing
5:30pm: Nap
6:30pm: Wake, feed, bath and pjs, lay on couch and play with Dad
7:30pm: Bed
8:00pm: Wine for Mom and Dad
12am: Wake for a cuddle
5am: Wake to feed, go right back to sleep

FOOD:
Two weeks ago, we began to supplement breast-milk with formula, as I will most likely wean in the next few weeks.  Nursing is a hot topic right now, and I am guessing it will be when you have children too.  I am so satisfied that I have been able to breastfeed you even this long, as I was assuming it would be more challenging than it is.  I love the closeness, but my body is telling me in various ways that it is time to move on, and while I could fight it with supplements and more nursing to bring back flow, I simply feel it is time to wean.  I suppose I mention this to remind myself more than anything. You have done great with the change, and have always taken a bottle easily anyway.  You have begun to show the slightest interest in Mom and Dad's food, following it with your eyes, which is a sign you might be ready to start interacting with solid food.  Just last night we gave you your first taste - which was a pureed banana.



The jury is still out.

DEVELOPMENT:
The biggest development is the discovery and continued use of your hands and now feet and how both of those things can manipulate toys and grasp people's fingers and shirts.

You love to be held, but almost always facing out.  You can sit up with assistance, and prefer this position to reclining. You are assuming the position necessary to roll from back to front, and my guess is that it will happen soon.  You are continuing to drool and make a mess of all those pretty outfits, but I just let you wear a bib around the house most of the time.

You had developed a few patches of eczema on your legs, but the doctor said to be consistent with a moisturizer and since doing so, it is all but gone.

Dad and I both agree that as you grow, you are more and more resembling my side of the family.  I can see myself and my siblings in your countenance.  Your hair is getting slightly longer and becoming browner.

ADJUSTED AGE:
You seem to be right on target for your actual age.  You are small, but not for a preemie.  I have noticed a discernible growth in your length.

Most recent stats:
Weight: 15lbs 8oz
Length: 24 inches
Head circumference: 43 cm

OUTINGS/EVENTS:
November brought a few firsts for your busy social  life.  Dad when on a work trip, leaving us overnight.  I was nervous, and it was actually a really hard night since you had decided to stop sleeping through the night.  But we made it!  Then you meet your Aunt Jackie and cousins Mekenzie and Asher.

Mom and Dad then went away for their anniversary, and you spent 72 hours at Gma's house.  The anticipation of leaving you was actually much harder than the being away.  Every time I longed for you, I  knew you were loving your life with Grandma.  Dad and I really needed to reconnect, and I think your life will continue to be more and more enriched by us taking first priority with our marriage.  It is truly one of my greatest desires, for you to be raised in a house of domestic peace and see a healthy marriage - not a perfect one.  You will see us fight and bicker, but I believe those things can and should be done openly and with respect toward the other, just as we will respect you and help you learn to respect us, the earth upon which you were born, and all manner of people you will encounter.

So much love,

I made it through my first day back to work.  I cannot say the same for my mascara.

I recently learned that human internal organs have a dual function. There is the physiological aspect as well as the emotional.  Apparently, the lungs hold grief.  This may explain why I could not catch my breath today; not once could I lull myself to peace via deep breathing.  I am guessing I had a few things to mourn.

107 days ago, I became a Mum.  When I began maternity leave, I intended to go back to work, but my position was trimmed (I was fat, apparently).  I then planned to just stay home and suck it up - as I was never convinced about what I wanted to do anyway.  I was then offered a 4-week contract that I decided to take.  That contract work began today.  

When I accepted the position, I was thrilled and in serious need of a break from Mommy-hood.  I was lucky enough to line up Jessica as Bowie's nanny, so the pain of leaving her would at least be that little bit easier.  However, between then and now, something strange shifted with Bowie and I.  I found myself enjoying nursing, craving time with her, even wanting to peak in and snuggle her while sleeping.  Before, I was way too exhausted to do anything but exist.  Since I could leave for dates with Joel as soon as she was 1-week old, I figured maybe I wasn't as attached as a Mother is supposed to be.  

This of course was a direct result of Bowie beginning to sleep consistently through the night.  I was much more capable of loving her. But it still seems like I blinked and suddenly motherhood has engendered a choking kind of love.  It sits on the back of your throat, somewhere between your heart and your mouth.  It's as if I am perpetually watching a deeply-moving cinema and stuck on the part just before the flood of tears.  

I'm stuck at the edge of catharsis.  

I was fine most of the day.  I couldn't breath, but I was managing.  But then night.  Oh.God.Awful.Night.  

After an hour in rainy traffic, after feeding and changing Bowie, after washing and organizing all the shit from pumping breast-milk at work all day, after an hour of trying to get Bowie to sleep (that NEVER happens), and after more pumping, I had to lie down on my bed and weep like a baby.  Dinner was not made, relaxation was nowhere in sight.  Bowie cried in her bedroom and I cried in mine and the poetic symmetry broke my ever-lovin' heart.  

Joel rescued with a cocktail and a hug, and I lost it even more.  It's just so much work to get to and from work, even though I am leaving Bowie with my best friend.  I still don't get to spend the day assessing her every little movement.  I come home and feel like a stranger and read WAY too much into the fact that she won't go down easily and has to cry it out for up to an hour (don't judge me!).  She finally drifted off to sleep somewhere between my Negroni and 2nd pour of Chardonnay, but man - I just had no resilience left.   

I am so glad this is a short contract.  I think I needed this to realize that I am happy at home - and that whatever structure and mental stimulation I need, I need to provide it for myself - income would be nice too.  

Time to dream again.

Tonight, Joel went in to comfort Bowie and as soon as she saw him, she not only stopped fussing, but looked at him with a huge grin.  He said he had no idea how much she had hooked him.  Looks like I am not the only one being manipulated by biology.

I just returned from peeping in on her as I make my way to my own bed.  I never used to do that.  I never wanted to risk waking her.  Now, I am so enamored of her smell and personality and cute little jammies that it's almost worth the risk of losing sleep just for that one last cuddle.  I might have to go in and sniff that head.

Yeah. I'm 'effed.  This picking up of a soul only to let go of a soul - it may be my undoing.  My body cannot contain it.  Mothers, how can you walk around and not be completely undone by one prick?  I guess we all get used to it - like I've become accustomed to Bowie's varying cries and therefore less traumatized by them (hell, she almost never cries anyway).   

Moms are my new superheros.  Yoga pants aside.

Monday, I am not sad to see you go.  But I am glad to see that Motherhood is happening to me, just as it should and in its own time.  

Worry not, Candace.  Your biology will not betray you.  It's supposed to hurt this much.

I've felt the strongest refusal to accept my current status of life.  It feels almost foreign to me, like I am observing an outsider - a small child or a bratty teenager.  She is crossing her arms, sitting down in the middle of a busy thoroughfare and resisting the change.

I notice myself wanting to assure others, but most of all assure myself, that I am unchanged.  I can still manage my time, still go on dates, still read leisurely, still have a fabulous dinner party, still drink to my heart's content; I can still do and be everything like I used to.  I receive praise for these things and realize that I am living a bit of a lie.

There are cool parents.  You see them casually carrying on a conversation while their children hang out in rock-star clothes, looking more like adults than kids.  They are unaffected, calm, and effortless.  I mean there are plenty of missteps, but for the most part - they sell the idea that one can have his cake and eat it too.  

While that may be true of me occasionally, if you came over at exactly the right time of day, you'd see just how uncool I've become. You'd see my hair in the most sad of states, my outfits (if I manage to get dressed) covered in god-knows what fluids, and my food choices based entirely on convenience rather than nutrition or intention.   You'd see me fretting that any decision I make now might make a future decision harder (if I hold her too much now, will she be unable to comfort herself in the future?, etc)  I know the answers to these questions, but I'm still so annoyed that I hear myself asking them. You'd see me talking myself out of researching every.single.thing we do.  I know being informed is important, but seriously - all the decisions you have to make as a parent could swallow you whole.  You've simply got to prioritize.  You'd see me worrying about having a conversation with Joel that doesn't have to do with Bowie.  In essence, I've become uncool.  

While I don't care and while being cool has never been the goal, I do feel a bit strange to myself. This mother suit doesn't quite fit yet.  It may not be appropriate to say so, and even less to feel so, but I often want to take it back, to return it to the store. Joel said it correctly last night, "You have buyer's remorse?"  While I seriously love Bowie (and am annoyed I felt the need to type that.  Of course I do), I can't say I am one of those naturals - despite having a lot of experience around newborns and children.  I know what I am doing, but loving it?   How are you supposed to know you'll enjoy parenting until you try it, and then what if you don't enjoy it.  Too.Damn.Bad.  We aren't all cut out to be mothers and fathers.  I have no doubt that I'll find my way through this awkward maze, but it's odd, it's disorienting, and for now, I can't say I am enjoying it - and I think that is important to say out loud.  

In addition to relating to your movement, I can relate to the pressure you no doubt feel around your body as you grow.  I have to remind myself to take deep breaths and to say positive things to myself.  

I journaled the other day that I have this nagging voice telling me I am not doing pregnancy right.  The bigger I get, the more confidence seems to leak from my eyeballs in the form of tears.  I am not feeling awesome, I am not refraining from complaining, I am not eating as well as I should, I cannot seem to tap into the positive energy everyone else seems to feel about pregnancy, etc. etc.  Then, quite cosmically, I stumbled onto a chapter in "Birthing From Within" called Losing It that specifically addressed that there is no one or ideal way to get a baby out.  For some, actually LOSING it will produce exactly the environment and energy they need to birth.  It's so strange to me that you won't even remember it.

Should I let it?