Sunday, September 26, 2010

The Worry Monster

As I was lying in bed this morning, desperately waiting for my little owlet to fall blissfully back to sleep, listening to the sniffs and snuffles of his stuffy nose, I started thinking about how much as mothers, and parents, we worry about our little ones. It made me wonder if other mammals worry about their young as much as we do. Sure they teach their young to avoid predators, or cars, or whatever, but at some point, their little ones, like ours, go off on their own. Do they worry about them? Do they listen to them sleep? Both relieved and frustrated when they start to fuss? For some of us, the worry begins before they are even conceived, as we worry about whether we even CAN get pregnant, and once we are pregnant, we worry that it won't last, and once we hit the 13 week mark (and can breathe a little easier, sort of), there's even more to worry about. Complications. Defects. Life Threatening Illness. That "S" word that keeps me awake at night, listening to him breathe.

I can't even imagine how much more I will continue to worry as my little Owlexander gets older, and is able to get into things, goes off to school, starts high school, goes off to College (shudder). My friend has a saying "love deeply, hold loosely." During times like this, a statement like that is something I should remember, as difficult as it is to "hold loosely." I think we worry so much because we love so much. I hope that when the time comes, that Alex will know that he's safe and loved as he goes off to explore the world, and that I'll be here, worrying away.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

pain and joy

Alexander James has arrived, after much anticipation, and a very long and hard labor. 24 hours of long, hard labor to be exact. After 2 hours of pushing, it was determined that that monster head of his was stuck, so they had to do a c-section. I have never had surgery before, ever, other than some stitches when I was like, 5, but that doesn't count, so needless to say I was pretty freaked out when the doctor said I would need one. I'm glad that in a way I had planned for this in my mind, since my idea of a "perfect birth" was slowly starting to unravel at the word "induction." Seems my little man was quite cozy in his little home in my tummy and didn't want to come out, and the longer he stayed in there, the more the frustration, anticipation and anxiety I felt. The doctors and I talked about induction, they went back and forth on when to do it, leaving me hanging and more frustrated and anxious, they didn't want to induce too soon and have it end up in a c-section (oh the irony). So, the birth plan, that I had worked so hard on went out the window, as did my idea of a natural labor, since I knew that there was no way with the pitocin that I would be able to do my relaxation techniques that Phil and I had practiced and planned for, especially since I was strapped to the bed with an IV. Poor Phil, the man probably saw more in those 24 hours than he ever thought he'd see, but he is an amazing man and was incredibly supportive the entire time (and continues to be now that we're home.) But of course, it was all worth it. The fact that I couldn't get out of bed for a solid 48 hours, that I couldn't eat anything for 36 hours, and when I did it was lemon jello, the fact that my feet were swollen like marshmallows for days was all worth it when I saw that precious face. I shook for an hour after the surgery, feeling like I would never stop shaking, but when they brought my little one over to me, my body was calmer, and I couldn't believe that he was here, finally here, and finally in my arms.

And now that we're home, and slowly settling in to our routine (he sleeps all day, eats and poops, and then does it some more) I love this little man more and more and more. Every day he surprises me with something new, whether its a smile in his sleep or his grasping my hands when he's nursing or his contented little "ahhh's" when he's finished eating, I am so blessed that this little man is now in our lives, all of the little joys that he brings me numerous times a day is worth all the pain that I endured during labor. Although, if he wants to make it up to me, he could start sleeping a little more in between his nightly feedings.