Crying into my pillow

Last night I laid all my fears out there in bed with my husband. Fears about not feeling bonded to this embryo, not singing to it every morning like I did with my son, not even feeling pregnant or really believing it, being disappointed about the pregnancy making me miss BlogHer, worrying about having a successful homebirth without doing something unsafe for the baby. Even though I seriously think unnecessary c-sections are really shitty for babies, I have to believe that mine was necessary and I worry that I could beat the odds and have another short-cord or other funky issue.

I talked about wanting to honor the fact that my 4'11" grandmother had 6 babies at home without a problem as far as I know. That my 5'2" mother had five babies vaginally (not naturally, but vaginally). Lots of people do this. Can I get out of my own way? Do I have to go through a whole bunch of Birthing from Within therapy or hypotherapy, or can I just ride the denial wave, imagine my baby falling out of me like happened to a denial-promoting friend twice?

This and so much else.

I needed to cry.

He said the best thing he could have, that it was okay to have doubts. Right.

A night at home

As of yesterday, I had been home for five straight days with my sick son (tacked onto a weekend of being home a lot, too) and out for five straight nights -- three for work, one for meditation (part of my volunteer commitment) and one for my volunteer commitment, a meeting I organized.

The good news is that I think I have two wonderful women who are willing to share that volunteer responsibility and leadership title with me. I was starting to feel like if I could not get that, I would just let the whole thing fold since I refuse to carry on a resentful role when having a second child. Or even if I end up dealing with a loss. I need help. I think they will offer it such that I don't have to throw in the towel on something I care about or let it further get to me. I don't want to be grumbling about this thing I love pissing me off while I have a new baby or am dealing with a miscarriage.

But, assuming the pregnancy goes forward, I still worry about being able to cobble out a postpartum existence that fits my values of attachment parenting at the same time that it provides boundaries other parts of me need.

Today my husband stayed home with a tummy bug, which was in some ways helpful and a relief, but it also was the first of several days of all three of us (with lots of snow predicted) and a boy who isn't really well enough to go to any holiday doings anyway, it doesn't seem.

The thing I want and need is time by myself. I cannot write an article if the little boy could burst in at any moment or his dad might just start playing the piano. It's fabulous that I now have a room of my own, but sometimes I wish it came with a beam that would transport me to a remote location where I could not be touched.

So if I feel like this now, without a mouth attached to my breast... Can I get it together by August?

Trying to get my groove back

It was nice to meditate Monday night and to go to that great meeting Thursday night, but I also had to organize the Thursday night meeting, I had to work Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and I still have a bunch of freelance and volunteer work to do.

So after two days of no television -- just sleep, rest, play and cooking with my son -- let the screens come out. I tried to attend to some business on the computer and I let him do some watching. Yesterday I couldn't even take him to an errand, he was so whiny about the cold. I had to put him on my back in the Ergo while I finished up work for the meeting and then do my errand while the sitter was here. It was actually nice to be alone in the car. But he was a real tough one to be around when I got back.

He wanted me. I couldn't give me. It was a struggle.

I really hope he will turn a corner at four. I can't imagine how we'd deal with a baby in this mix if I were 7 months ahead of myself gestationally. As it is, he keeps wanting to put his hand up my shirt -- on my back, on my expanding belly -- and on my face if I'm holding him. He kept licking me when he was in the Ergo.

Part of me feels like he needed a sibling long ago. The other part wonders if he -- and I -- will ever be ready.

"I'm ready for you to get up now, Mommy."

No more sleepy kid. Fever is gone. Cough is still here. Whining is still here. Appetite isn't fully back. But one thing that is: refusal to rest.

I was tired. His snoring and coughing had me awake for a good long while between 3 and 5 a.m. So I tried the rest thing again. He wanted none of it. He left me alone for a while but was clear when my time was up.

I do not love being at someone else's beck and call.

I am hoping that if I have another baby that the patience and unconditional love gene will kick back into gear. Because as we are approaching age 4, I have a lot less patience and worry that this is what I'm conveying more than love these days.

Close your eyes

The meditation night was very chill. No yoga, really, just breathing and being present. Knowing I was probably facing a week where I'd just have to throw expectations out the window, I went with it. Not to say that my mind never drifted toward making lists, but it did not settle there. It just settled pretty well.

So when I was handed a pretty sick boy in the morning, I didn't feel so terribly depleted. But I was surprised at how deeply I fell asleep with him for a nap from at least noon to two. We were on the short couch in the bright family room. At some point he even shifted his body so that it was mostly covering my head, and I didn't care. I just kept sleeping.

How different to have a kid who sleeps in the day, who will not whine, "I'm not tired!" and will just surrender to rest. How did I fuck up so bad that my son has not been able to drop into quiet for a full year without reaching a point of total exhaustion?

That's what I worry about when I think about #2. Can I help this one develop a healthy rhythm. We won't be able to just do whatever whenever because s/he will have a brother who needs rides to school. I'm hoping this helps me establish boundaries and that s/he accepts them instead of that we both are chronically underslept.

And I know I cannot go for seven months without ever handing a baby to a sitter, ever. I have a work identity I don't want to let languish, even if I'm happy to have a babymoon and not have some office I need to race back to. I don't love pumping and I will not do any replacement for breastmilk for a year unless something scary happens. But I cannot, will not get so lost I don't know where I start and the other being begins.