Baby Violet

Thursday, April 30, 2015 0 No tags

Hello!

I’m not sure how to start this post because I have stopped and started it a thousand times already since Violet made her way into the world.

The post I had all ready to publish a few days ago has been reevaluated under less hormonal circumstances and deemed just the type of sap worthy of my teenage diary but not necessarily the world wide web. Turns out I really can’t trust myself to write anything decent when I’m hormonal and sleep deprived.

Here’s the thing about me and sleep deprivation: we’ve never been a good match. 

I can deal with it in the privacy of my own home, and around close friends and family, but I cannot be trusted around words and coherent thoughts and rules of grammar in such a state.

This could mean a few things: I post a lot of wacky, typo-filled essays on my “deep” thoughts about life with an infant, I overcompensate and post only the facts, or I just don’t post at all and hope you all know I am alive by my instagram account.

How about we just stick with the facts for now?

Violet Virginia was born on the morning of April 2, at 7 pounds 8 ounces and 19 1/2 inches. That makes her four weeks old. I find that hard to believe since it simultaneously feels like she was born yesterday and as though I have never lived life without her.

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More facts:

I am both massively impressed with what my body is capable of doing (the female body is amazing, you guys), and a little emotional about the fact that I don’t recognize my reflection in the mirror quite yet.

I am acutely aware of the fact that I am only human, and can’t protect our child from all harm, as much as I would do anything to keep her safe.

Looking after and loving this helpless human is exhausting–a different kind of exhaustion than being primarily concerned with my own needs. In a much deeper sense, that is refreshing. And really hard.

This is the kind of love that is tempted to worry, to make a lot of what used to seem important seem trivial, and a love that threatens to change me to my core.

And that’s kind of scary.

But having children is scary. From the positive pregnancy test to the last few contractions, to the crying baby whose tears you can’t interpret, to the fear of loving so strongly that you would never recover if you lost her. Combine this vulnerable state with sleep deprivation and hormones and you have the perfect setup for near-insanity.

And yet, parenthood is as common as waking up in the morning. It happens every day, to all kinds of people, and the vast majority come out alive.

That’s really pretty remarkable, all things considered. 

I’m hoping to be in the vast majority, for the record.

I’ll be posting more soon! For now, tell me, what’s new? Pretend I’ve been living in a cave for the past few weeks and anything you say will be news to me. Hypothetically speaking.

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How to Stay Sane During Pregnancy (maybe?)

Monday, March 23, 2015 0 ,

Welp, my due date has come and gone.

My mental due date, that is. My actual due date is still next Tuesday, but I’ve kind of resigned myself to the fact that since she isn’t here right now, it will just be another ten years. And that’s fine.

Just fine. I’m mainly happy to know that my uterus is so much more exciting than the actual world.That’s something I never would have predicted.

I’ve gotten so used to being pregnant, whenever I open my closet, I wonder why I keep so many clothes around that don’t fit. But what am I talking about? I don’t open my closet these days. The three things that fit me right now are conveniently laying over a nearby chair. My closet is the tomb of my old life, the contents of which are enshrined forever: symbols of a forgotten past.

I dream about having an actual wardrobe again one day, but if that doesn’t happen for ten more years, I’m fine with that. Life is just different now, and I better get used to carrying around a bowling ball with me wherever I go. In fact, I have gotten used to it. It’s nice.

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The other day I chanced to lean over my belly and get a good view of my feet. I busted out laughing because, well, I guess I hadn’t noticed them in a while, and they looked a lot like cheese puffs.

Sure enough, when I tried on a pair of my more narrow boots yesterday, they felt two sizes too small. And they wouldn’t zip up. I actually hadn’t realized that my body was swollen. It made me wonder what else had changed about my body that I hadn’t noticed, that everyone else is secretly laughing about.

So gradual are the effects of pregnancy that I hadn’t realized how much has really changed, aside from the size of my belly, which really can’t be missed. I think that is partly why pregnant women feel a little crazy. A transforming body and losing a mind are both very gradual transitions. What did it feel like to be not pregnant? I don’t remember. That was like, ten years ago.

I was planning on writing a blog post about the things that have helped me stay sane during my pregnancy, but looking over this post, I don’t know how convincing that would really be.

I think I was going to say something like: distractions, like reading the Harry Potter series, are helpful. Making time to take care of yourself even if your wardrobe is sparse (washing your face every night, painting your nails). Using this instead of a chair because it’s a pregnancy life saver. Truly. Recognizing when you’ve overdone it, and not pushing yourself too hard to begin with are also so helpful.

And that’s about the extent of my advice today. I’m sure it’s about all you can handle, too.

Now if you’ll excuse me, there are some square inches of my house that still need to be cleaned. But I might read a book instead because I have at least a whole week left (ten years) before my life changes. That’s plenty of time to do so many things.

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Happy Mother’s Day

Sunday, May 11, 2014 0 ,

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Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there. Whether you are currently raising kids, or have successfully led them to adulthood, you are pretty special people.

My mother raised four kids, home schooled all of us, and has owned her own business since I was young. She also drove me to countless ballet classes, rehearsals, and performances, made dinner for me every night, forgave me, laughed at me (in a healthy way), encouraged me to do what I loved, inspired me, supported me. On top of that, I don’t recall my mom ever being in a bad mood growing up. Ever. I don’t know how she did it (still does it), but I owe her so much for what she has taught me, and the example she has been.

Mom, thank you for bringing me into this world and giving me such a wonderful childhood. I know I can speak for all four of your kids when I say we are pretty blessed to have been raised by you. I am sorry for always saving my math homework for Sunday nights, and for lying about brushing my teeth at night. Some things are really hard about growing up. I love you!

 

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“How can it be a large career to tell other people’s children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one’s own children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No. A woman’s function is laborious, but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness.” -G.K. Chesterton