Aftershocks from Infertility Past

Due to an unfortunate parallel, learning how to deal with infertility usually goes hand-in-hand with learning how to deal with other’s pregnancies. When we were trying to get pregnant with Mariah, my coping mechanism was to complain that everyone, except me, was pregnant. I hated  the mall because not only was everyone in the WORLD pregnant, but they conspired to shop precisely when I did. I was a pillar of rationality.

Now nearly ten months into motherhood, with a chapter of infertility behind me, I feel another pattern emerging. I can now feel genuinely happy with no subtle undertones for couples pregnant with their first. It suggests post-infertility healing. But for those pregnant with baby #2, toward them I feel the slightest pang of jealousy.

I cannot put into words how much we are not ready to have another child right now. But somewhere deep within me I cannot help but think that if things had gone according to plan maybe we would be ready. I hold infertility responsible for railroading my family planning. People ask when we’re going to give Mariah a sibling; it is a question that I cannot answer. Infertility holds my next baby hostage, and I do not yet know the cost I will have to pay to free him.

There is part of me that knows that I also owe infertility. That any other cycle, any other month, any other joining of gametes and we wouldn’t have Mariah. But that knowledge doesn’t fill me with forgiveness nor does it lift the cloud from our future plans.

– Mya

Cabinet Doors Open and Mama’s Eyes Closed

Let’s do something different and talk Baby, shall we?

Just over a week ago Mariah discovered a pastime more enjoyable than removing clothes from the dryer – removing contents from the cabinets. She has, therefore, instituted the rule that in her presence all cabinet doors must be opened. Given my views on travel toothpaste in every room and re-washing unused mixing bowls, it’s time for the next round of baby proofing. We started months ago with outlet covers and blind cords, but didn’t get much further than that. Locks are in our very immediate future, at least for the cabinets we really need her not to explore. And I guess it’s time to give our home a really thorough baby proofing sweep.

I cannot say enough how absolutely in love I am with this stage of development. She moves at the speed of light and finds a way into trouble before we have time to blink. Baby mobility and curiosity are a powerful combination. There is nothing quite like the look of pride and satisfaction she has when she discovers something new. And did I mention she doesn’t know/ignores the word “no” and all of its variations? Our busy, busy girl keeps us on our toes. By the end of the day we are all ready for a good night’s sleep. And if it’s sleep Baby wants, it’s sleep Baby gets:

Even if it is on the living room floor.

Speaking of people falling asleep wherever they are (we were talking about this, yes?). I may have found something to address my near-constant insomnia. The data is still sparse, but melatonin actually seems to be helping. Given my sleeping history, I’m amazed. I am also, relatively speaking, rested. I would still like to find a way to sleep that doesn’t require a pill or pregnancy, so I’d love to hear about any natural sleep aids. Maybe I’ll stumble onto something novel and effective.

I know that last bit was random. But I was excited; consecutive nights of sleep is a mama milestone.

– Mya

Searching for a Reason

Whenever something happens in a way that it should not, people fall back on the saying that things happen for a reason. After a very rocky yesterday, I disagree. Bad things don’t happen for a reason; they just happen. There may be something better on the other side, but I am losing the energy required to get there.

– Mya

Girl Power

When Mariah started daycare, she almost immediately became one of A Baby Trio — a group of three girls that were the infant equivalent of friends.  Within a few months, the oldest of the three graduated to the next classroom leaving Mariah and Baby A in infant land by themselves.

Mariah and A are two peas from a very adorable pod. The girls are a month a part in age, share similar  features, similar personalities, and similar names (A’s first name is Mariah’s middle name and A’s middle name is a version of Mariah’s first name). Each day there is a story of some activity that the girls tackled together. In the confines of the infant social structure and communication, the two like each other and, occasionally, they manage to become co-adventurers.

One day last week the daily (slightly dramatized, I’m sure) Mariah-A story went like this: The very mobile girls have taken to playing with a particular boy, G, that is closest in age, but not nearly as mobile. At one point, the girls ganged up on G and swiped his pacifier. G, of course, cried.

The girls, inexplicably, laughed.

Poor outnumbered little guy. What is he supposed to do in a classroom where four out of the six babies are girls?

– Mya

Yesterdays

Since my nephew’s birth two and half years ago, the wallpaper on my laptop has been an assortment of baby pictures. But a few weeks ago I decided to update with this picture:

 

 

 

 

Circa 2003, Tony and I were off to a college fraternity formal. I’m not sure if it was the event, the flat stomach, or the smooth skin, but the picture drew from me smile.

What makes you wax nostalgic?

- Mya