frustration turned to peace

We've had a rough week. Melody has been whiny, needy, and not herself. She tries to be happy, but cannot. I can see her pleasant nature being snuffed out by what I assume is teething symptoms. We've had long nights of crying, running nose and wakefulness. It is so sad to see her unable to get good breaths due to a stopped up nose. If only she's breath through her mouth... The problem is, her fingers are usually inside her mouth while she sleeps.

This morning I am dazed and tired. I am finally drinking my coffee. It sat on the kitchen counter for over a hour, ready with soy milk and sugar in the raw. Now it is room temperature. This would usually bug me, but since it's 79º in our house, cooler coffee is okay.

I could not do anything right with Melody this morning. We finally did her two favorite things: an outdoor walk; then a bath. A few times around the block at 8:30am, and I'm already hot and sticky. I'm ready for fall. She calmed down on the walk and then enjoyed the bathtub, until she tried pulling up to a standing position on the side of the tub. Slippery, hard surfaces plus naked, wet baby are not a good combination. She got frustrated when I pulled her away from the edge. We had a full-on meltdown when I finally took her out of the tub.

All of this wouldn't phase me if it weren't for two things: I'm tired and I have a freelance project due soon. I finally got Melody down for a morning nap. I am hoping she's worn out enough to sleep a few hours. (Please. Please. Please.)

Despite my whining, I still think motherhood isn't as hard as I thought it would be. The crying, snot, slobber, poop, night-time care, pick-up-the-toy-a-million-times game, baby gear in every corner of the house, extra laundry, babyfood sneezes.... I used to worry I'd hate all these things. I'd see moms in restuarants unable to eat their food because of the baby, and I'd involuntarily shiver, wondering how I'd cope when it was my turn. The thing that makes all these things okay is the amount of LOVE I have for Melody. Taking care of her is a pleasure, even when it is in the middle of the night. I get frustrated often, but when I stop and really think about it all, I come to the same conclusion every time. It is a delight to take care of her. On our walk this morning I found myself breathing prayers of thanksgiving for such a gift. I am overwhelmed by the blessing and goodness that has come with our strong Melody.

I did not expect this post to end this way... when I started it I was super frustrated and ready to complain, complain, complain. I feel better now. I have a friend who once said, "Writing is like throwing up. I always feel better afterward." This quote applies to me this morning. (Although I'd choose writing over throwing up any day of the year.)

font hell

I am in font hell. For weeks I've been trying to set up a computer work station at home. (That sounds really dumb.) I have a four year old G4 Powerbook. I love it. I also love designing. What I do not love is computer stuff. I do well with my limited software programs. I learn them well enough to work efficiently. I love key commands and shortcuts. I do not thrive on problem solving.

My latest problems surround the confusing world of fonts. Postscript. Open Type. True Type. Dfont. Unicode. &^#(@! What does these gibberish mean?! Why can't it be simplier? One of the things that is holding me back is I have to use the same exact fonts my vendors use. Even though there are thousands of versions of Caslon out there, I have to use the one and only one they use.

I dream of a day when I have a setup I fully understand. The projects I'm doing are simple, enjoyable, and routine IF I don't run into font hassles, printer problems, operating system glitches, internet woes and unexplainable mishaps. I guess these bumps in the road are what I'm really getting paid for -- I keep telling myself this is a GOOD thing. After all, the only way for me to learn hard stuff is to be forced into it. I will never in a million years say to myself, "Ohh. A computer problem. This is fascinating! Let me see... what is going on here?"

weight watchers and biting

Tonight I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting. I've always considered Weight Watchers to be a good method of weightloss. For a long time I knew it would be my "diet of chioce" if ever I decided to do something like that. It's time.

I was surprised by the large number of people in attendence; there were about fifty people present. The teacher was energetic, informative, and positive. I arrived 10 minutes late and had to squeeze into a row near the front. I felt extremely self consious because compared to the others I am not very big. I was surprised by how much courage it took to simply sit through the meeting. For some reason tears threatened to accumulate throughout the 45 minute gathering. I did not expect this surge of emotion.

I think the points method will help me be aware of mindless eating and empty calories. The first goal is to loose ten percent of one's current weight. That is 16 pounds for me. (I weighed in at 165.) If I loose 16 pounds I'll be at 149, which is close to my ultimate goal of 145. As a nursing mom I am allowed more points. This makes perfect sense, but I find myself resenting the fact that I need to eat more in order to breastfeed. The longer I breastfeed the more I realize how much self sacrifice it requires.

My expectation was to love breastfeeding. Many mothers rant and rave about how awesome it is. Now that Melody has teeth I am tense and nervous the whole time she eats. She bites me about three times a day and it HURTS so much. I yelp a loud "NO" which makes her sad for about half a second. Then she smiles as if to say, "You aren't really mad a me, Mommy... you love me. Remember?" I can't help but gather her tiny body close and smile as if to say back, "Yes. You are right. I love you with all my heart." And that is the reason I keep nursing.

melody

I am realizing that feeling down doesn't necessarily mean I'm depressed. I am terrified of the depression coming back, so when ordinary sadness surfaces, I get scared. The death of my midwife's little girl has effected many people. When I mentioned my heartache to a friend, she said the day the little girl died set the stage for a dark and sad summer. I think she is right.

On a lighter note, I'll update you on Melody. We are still nursing. I received a new batch of domperidone in the mail yesterday. I ordered enough to last for several months. I came close to quitting, but decided to stick it out until she is a year old. To me it is more convenient to formula feed than breastfeed, but I can't deny the joy we share when nursing.

I love the way Melody calms down as soon as we're laying side by side. (We typically nurse laying down.) After she has eaten for awhile she pulls away and looks up at me. Her cheeks are flushed from our combined body heat. She grins with milk-glossed lips and my heart melts. Her eyes are bright with recognition as I talk to her.

Today we had a rough day. She cried a new cry. Shrill. Loud. Demanding. At first I wondered if it was a willful streak annoucing the arrival of a difficult stage. But as the day wore on, she seemed to be disturbed with pain. I cannot not tell if it is teething, growing pains, or stomach trouble. To ease her hard day I gave her two ice cubes worth of homemade peach babyfood. It is her favorite. Other foods she will tolerate are oatmeal, prunes, avocado, carrot, sweet potato and banana. She likes to clamp down onto the rubber spoon with her two tiny teeth. She grins as if it's a trick.

more sadness

I am depressed again. I am still taking my anti-depressant but the past two weeks have been a blur. I do not have an explaination.

I know I'm depressed because I'm apathetic about things that usually matter. I don't care if I quit breastfeeding. The kitchen floor is sticky; I don't mop. I call people to chat thinking it might help. I stare into space instead of making conversation and end up feeling worse. Melody's mild fussiness gets on my nerves. I don't want to go swimming.

I think the sadness began in mid-July when a tragedy occured. One morning at 6:30 I got a call from one of my mom-friends. I immediately knew something was wrong. She told me our midwife's daughter, a five year old, had died the night before. The cause of death: a rare, unexplained reaction to a spider bite.

Our midwife is an amazing woman. She is a strong force of goodwill, kindness, and caregiving in our community. She's a best friend to all her patients. After the last postpartum appointment we're known to go through withdraw because we miss her so much. The news of her daughter's sudden death shocked us all. We immediately began cooking spaghetti, buying flowers, writing cards, praying, etc. Of course none of these things felt like enough. The mother's grief swallowed us because we love her so much.

Since then, I've felt lost and sad.

a fast rundown

A lot has happened in recent weeks.
To summerize:

• I finished a huge freelance project. I feel FREE now. My sister-in-law visited for three weeks in order to help with the baby and the house while I worked. Having her here was spectacular. We got to know each other better than ever before. She was awesome with Melody.

• One of my best friends got married. The wedding was outside on a triple digit day. There were nine bridesmaids and eight groomsmen which made for a large affair. The poor boys melted in their black tuxes under a harsh Arkansas sun. Many friends from college were present. The reunion was fun, although I was awkwardly aware of my excess weight. No one else has had kids yet.

• I had a birthday. I am now one year away from the big 30 mark. Crazy. Chad and I had sushi together for the first time to celebrate. We liked it a lot; my favorite was the crab.

• Construction on our new house has begun. We're building a house in the country. It will be smaller than the one we're currently in. I'm happy about this because right now our meager furniture is swallowed up in this 1700 square feet. The new home will be around 1400. I'm envisioning a more cozy living area.

• I've been trying to spend on solid hour a day cleaning house. I'm excited about this plan. Things are looking more picked up than ever before. I like to do the hour of dirty work in the morning before I shower, if possible. This way I work like a mad woman and don't worry about getting grimmy.

• Melody is 7 months now and has two teeth. She sits up like a champ and loves to say da-da-da and ah-ba-ba. She weighs 14 lbs, 9 oz and is 26 inches long. I am having a blast with her.

Other very significant things have transpired during my blogging laspe. I am not able to list them in a piddly summary. I hope to expound, ask questions, and seek thoughts on the subjects soon.

dreams vs reality

This morning Melody and I woke up early. I was tired and groggy. She is teething and our nights have been rougher than usual. I turned to see the clock. 6:23. We got out of bed (she slept with me last night) and she was singing her morning song. She is happiest in the mornings. I changed her diaper and put on my knee length Gap camouflage shorts. They belong to Chad, but I recently discovered they fit me! It was great to know I can wear some of his clothes again. We used to switch and trade clothes all the time. My 55 lb pregnancy weight gain changed that fact.

I put Melody in the backpack and leashed the dog. He was sleepy and excited at the same time. I don't think he'd ever been for a walk that early. The air outside wasn't as refreshing as I hoped. The Arkansas July air remained humid despite the early hour. It was quiet and still though. Morning has always been my favorite time of day, but I usually am too lazy to do anything about it.

We walked for thirty minutes. Many cars exited the neighborhood during this time. The passengers appeared to be on their way to work. Each passing car reinforced my thankfulness to be at home with Meldoy instead of working fulltime. I feel so lucky. Our morning walk was a dream come true.

Lately I've reaized something new: I am a dreamer.

I always have an ideal picture in my head of what the future holds. In this picture there are steady things that do not change. The house is clean and extremely organized. Our bills are neatly filed. I am skinny. Unique decorations adorn each wall. Beds are made. Meals are planned and healthy. I exercise regularly and feel strong.

When we were in the process of buying our current house I held these high dreams. Now, three years later, a couple walls have decor that is pleasing to my eye. The bills are paid on time, but a file pile is approaching one foot tall in the spare bedroom. I am slowly loosing weight but the idea of being skinny again feels like a far away thing. The beds are made about 40% of the time.

Now we are in the process of builing a house in the country. I find myself dreaming again. Paint colors from Restoration Hardware, high gloss cabinets, cedar trim, flower boxes, dreamy patio.... I lay awake at night pondering what each room will look like. Lately I've been realizing that the new house will still have a file pile, struggling plants, and makeshift furniture.

Does everyone have this dilemma? If so, how do we jump out of it and make our dreams reality?

a song for my honey

I've felt kinda bad since I posted the last entry about my husband. It was very late when I wrote it. I had been working hard for several hours in a row and was slap-stick-silly. I railed on him pretty hard. He took it in good humor, like usual. He's the optimist in the relationship. I'm the skeptic, known to say, "That's a conspiracy!" more than once on any give day.

Tomorrow I leave for Atlanta for six days, to visit my childhood best friend. We both have baby girls; six weeks apart in age. I'm super excited about the break and am so thankful that Chad is supportive of the trip even though he'll be home alone for almost a week. I've been thinking about him as I pack tonight. (We have to leave the house for the airport in 7 short hours. I'm still packing.) He and Melody are asleep.

There is a song by Coldplay that I love. It's called Green Eyes and it makes me think of Chad every time I listen to it. I've been listening to it a lot lately. Here are the lyrics:

Honey you are the rock
Upon which I stand
And I came here to talk
I hope you understand
Green eyes
Yeah the spotlight shines upon you
And how could anybody deny you
I came here with a load
And it feels so much lighter
Than when I met you
And honey you should know
That I could never go on without you
Green eyes
Honey you are the sea
Upon which I float
And I came here to talk
I think you should know
Green eyes
You are the one that I wanted find
And anyone who tried to deny you
Must be out of their mind
Cause I came here with a load
And it feels so much lighter
Since I met you
Honey you should know
That I could never go on without you
Green eyes
Green eyes
Honey you are the rock
Upon which I stand

my husband, the sentimental handyman

Lately I have been busy working on some freelance projects for the design company where I used to work. I have a makeshift work area at home in our spare room. My laptop sits on a "Lovefeast Table." (I call it this because when I was a kid our churh had a Lovefeast, ie: Potluck, once a month. Food was piled onto long rectangular tables with fake wood grain tops.) The table is too high for my stationery chair so I've become accustom to typing and mousing with my arms stretched out straight in front of me.

Behind my work area is a full size bed with a twin comforter. Next to that is a wooden bookshelf that Chad made out of scrap 1x4s. He gave it to me as a present my first birthday after we got married. I was sorely disappointed, but he was so proud of the sturdy thing that I didn't show it. Just the other night it came out that I wasn't thrilled to receive the bookshelf as a gift. His face fell and he said like a hurt little boy, "What's wrong with my bookself?!"

My reply, "No, no, no! It's great, just not what I wanting to put in our living room as a newlywed, or what I wanted to get as a birthday present. You did a good job though...." (pat, pat, stroke, stroke)

Chad also made the frame for our bed. We have a TemperPedic mattress (which we LOVE) and it does not need a box spring. Instead it is made to lay on a flat, sturdy surface. We could (should) have bought a box with the mattress to serve this purpose. The box was $200, and Chad decided he would make one instead.

For a year and a half our mattress sat on the floor. No one would have guessed we'd spent over $1000 on our amazing mattress. After awhile I began moaning and groaning about getting up off the floor every morning. We went to Lowes and spent $100 on materials for a homemade frame. Chad used huge 4x4 boards for the posts and partical board for the platform. All the wood remained unfinished. The bed ended up being about 4 feet above the ground. (I'm not kidding.) First we couldn't get up out of bed and then we couldn't get onto the bed! Once again, the construction was sturdy and practical.... but not so pretty.

My dreams of a Martha Stewart home have long flown out the window. That happened one weekend during our engagement when we drove my dad's work van to Chad's home to load up his stuff. We hauled back a king size waterbed (the old nasty 80s kind), assorted swords, hachets, blowguns and a lava lamp. Desperately trying not to be the nagging sort, I nervously chewed my lip the whole 9 hour drive home. Where would be put all his crap? We were to live in a tiny campus duplex so it was not possible to give him the basement for his stuff. I tried to brainstorm ways to creatively make our first home cool, unique and tasteful. My two drawbacks were lack of funds and Chad's awful stuff. He is the sentimental kind, so getting rid of the stuff was not an option. (It was hard enough to convince him that he didn't need every single picture and letter from his high school girl friend -- but that's for another post.)

Almost five years has passed since that long ride from Illinois to Arkansas. I do not have the home of my dreams, but I don't mind so much. There is warmth, fun, laughter, and happiness within these walls. I'm choosing to make these things the important ones, instead of matching furniture, expensive things, and the right color scheme. Maybe someday I'll have the best of both worlds, but for now I'm doing alright.

sweetest moments together

This morning I received an email from a friend. She asked me to tell her of some of my sweetest moments with Melody. As I pondered this thought, I came up with a few awesome memories from recent months since she's been born.

• A few hours after she was born we took a bath together. We stared at each other in dim candlelight and started to fall in love.

• At night I would lay on my back and put her on my chest, tummy down. Her tiny body was so light, I could barely feel it. But somehow her little body kept me warm. She would sleep there for hours while we listened to each other breathe.

• From day one I've loved dressing her. If she gets slobber on a onsie I happily change her into another outfit. Fortunately, she does not mind being changed.

• Watching my baby interact with her daddy is amazing. They create this beautiful picture when they're together; the two things that I love the most in this world. Seeing them together is overwhelming and wonderful.

• Watching her roll over for the first time brought excitement and joy that surprised me. I did not know milestones like these would be so precious. After she rolled over, I was happy all day. I told everyone, "She is rolling over now!" It as a declaration. Her new nickname was Rolly Polly.

• Another special thing was when I could tell that she knew me. She would light up when I approached her. She would calm down when I took her from someone else's arms. She looked for my voice.

• Nicknames have always been fun. Some of the most popular are: Sweetcake, Buttercup, Babydoll, Miss Melody, Lovey Dovey, Sweet Pea...

...okay, I'll stop before someone throws up. All that to say, it's been an awesome journey so far.

addicted to lyle

Does anyone else like Lyle Lovett?

Lately I've been addicted to his music. I've listened to Cowboy Man everyday this week. I love his simple lyrics about rodeo life and lost loves. I'm not into country music. To me, his stuff is in another category. It's easy to listen to. Soothing to my soul, somehow. People are still shocked that he was married to Julia Roberts. I understand that he's not the most attractive guy around, but listening to him sing makes me wonder if that's how she fell for him.

If you were to wake up
And I were beside you
Would you gently smile
And whisper my name?



I like cream in my coffe
And I hate to be alone on Sunday
Nobody knows me like my baby
Nobody holds me like my baby


Shoot. If someone sang that way to me, I'd marry him.

the year of the overalls

A few posts back I talked about being fat. I did not think it would take me so long to loose my pregnancy weight. Many people have a saying, "Nine months on. Nine months off." I can recall even saying this very thing to others after they had their baby. Even though I spouted this advice, I didn't think it would apply to ME.

When I see a mom with a baby, I usually take note of her body. If she is thin I think things like,
"Maybe she has a trainer."
"Maybe she is the nanny, not the mom."
"Maybe she's just lucky."
"Maybe she works her butt off at the gym everyday."

I'm a tall girl. Without shoes, I'm 5' 9". I've been thin all my life. Before the pregnancy I weighted 150 lbs. Of course I wanted to be lighter by 10 or so pounds, but all in all, I was happy with the way I looked. I wore baggy clothes most of the time. Mens jeans, loose sweatshirts, baggy cargos, etc. Wearing things oversized made me feel comfy and wispy somehow. Occasionally I'd wear fitted jeans when Chad and I went on a date. Those times I felt sexy, but uncomfortable. Thankfully, he doesn't care what I wear. He rarely notices if I change something, so I stick with what's comfortable.

I gained 55 pounds during the pregnancy, topping out at 207. (!!!!) It felt strange to be over 200 pounds. At the end of the pregnancy I felt beauitful though. Everything was so round, which was pretty much the complete opposite of my usual body. Even my legs were round! I felt good. After Melody was born, I didn't feel good about the roundness anymore. I wanted it to be gone. I wanted to be one of those skinny moms. I didn't mind being a big pregnany person, but I did not like being a big non-pregnant person.

Melody is five and a half months now. I'm weighing in at 167 these days. I am finally starting to see the old Rebekah behind the round remnants of Pregnant Rebekah. I am thrilled to see her again. In the meantime I've been wearing massive Old Navy denim overalls everyday. I switch the shirts which brings a little variety, but the overalls are a constant. They hide my stomach and butt. These the two areas are the last to return to Normal Rebekah status. Sometimes I stare at my skinny wrist and long for the rest of my body to follow suit.

When I told a friend I thought 2005 was going to be my Fat Year, she corrected me and said, "No. It is simply going to be your Overalls Year." She was right. I doubt I'll quit wearing them until I'm 150 again. Then they will return to the back of my closet and wait for the next post pregnancy year. Next time a friend talks to me about her post pregnancy weight, I promise not to say, "You know what they say! Nine months on. Nine months off."

a song that fits

Those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile know I desperately wanted a baby for a long time. There were many days of longing and tears of wanting before God brought Melody into my life. Now each day I breath words of thanksgiving as I hold her close, see her smile and hear her laugh.

(It is similar to my first year of college. I had finally found "my place." Each day I woke up with a song in my heart and a smile on my face, because of the drastic difference from the previous year at a rural high school where football and trucks were the main things. But I digress...)

There is a song that tells the story of Melody. It is by Waterdeep. We sing it in church from time to time. I seldom make it to the end of the song without tears streaming down my cheeks. Before Melody, I cried because I wanted her so much. Now that she's here, I cry for thanksgiving and awe. The words go:

You are so good to me
You heal my broken heart
You are my Father in heaven

They are simple but powerful. Another neat thing about the song is the bridge. It contains Melody's name, which seems fitting.

You are my strong melody
You are my dancing rhythm
You are my perfect song
And I want to sing forever

I want to make a something to hang on her wall that says,
"You are my strong Melody."

She has changed my life so much, and she is only five months old. I cannot imagine how I'll feel in the years to come as she continues to grow up.

fear

I really admire the many moms out there who persevere through trials of breastfeeding. It is admirable to beat the odds of infections, depression, medication, low milk supply, and other factors. When these things occur, the simple act of feeding our babies from our own bodies becomes a threatened privilage. There are many reason why I want to continue breastfeeding Melody. One of them is the following question:

"If I quit breastfeeding, will my friends still like me?"

There. I said it.

Over the past few months I've become well aquainted with four moms. We all breastfeed. My main reason for wanting to keep nursing is Melody's well-being. The number two reason is close behind -- I want to continue having it in common with my friends. It is a central topic and activity during our times together. I am sad and nervous about loosing this connection. I know people say things like, "If they don't like you because you stop breastfeeding, then they weren't true friends to begin with." Though true, statements like this do not make it easier.

If I stop will they say it's cool, but then talk about me when I'm not there? Why am I insecure about this? Breastfeeding was always a no-brainer for me. Of course I'd do it; it's the best option. Now that I'm faced with a low milk supply, I am dealing with questions I didn't foresee coming my way. I never realized this topic would lead to issues of acceptance, loyalty, fear and possible isolation.

my biggest problem

Pumping is hard!!! For the past five days I've been pumping breastmilk in order to increase my milk supply. I try to pump every two hours, but sometimes four or five hours quickly pass before I find my way to the pump again. I'm using an expensive Medela hospital grade pump. It's a great machine, but that doesn't make it fun. I am not able to pump "hands free" yet so the whole time I am unable to do anything else. I also have not found a comfortable position. I sit tall and slightly forward in order to the milk to fall into the bottles. Also, I tend to watch the milk the whole time which means my head is tilted down, resulting in neck and upper back pains.

This morning I had a breakdown. The tears began falling shortly after 7:00am as I sat hooked up to the pump waiting, waiting waiting for milk to fall. Twenty minutes later I still didn't have one drop of milk yet. Sitting on the center cushion of our old orange couch I began to cry. I felt hopeless. "When is my milk supply going to return?," I thought forlornly.

Around me the house was a disaster. Every single room, including the hallways were lined with items that didn't belong. Bills were waiting to be paid, toilets were disgusting, etc , etc, etc. Chad came into the room to put his shoes on for work. He sat and looked at me with concern. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know why I'm so upset. I'm so overwhelmed." I replied.

"How can I help you?"

"I don't know."

He hugged me and sat silent for awhile. Then left for work. Less than two minutes passed before Laura let herself in through the garage. She came and sat by me. I spilled my guts. "I'm so overwhelmed with pumping, the house, the baby, and work." She immeidately sprang into action. She cleaned the bathrooms and the kitchen. She bathed, fed, and held Melody. She did four loads of laundry. She hung all my clothes up that were piled on the floor. In the meantime I walked around the house with a foggy brain. I emailed a mom-friend and told her about my hard morning. She called me less than a hour later to talk. She assured me that I'm doing a good job and that things will be easier soon. She made me feel so much better.

After that I found Laura in Melody's bedroom, sorting through a pile of random stuff on the floor. I sat on the unmade bed and sighed. "I'm so glad you're here. I don't think I could let anyone else -- besides my mom and mom-in-law -- clean our gross toilets." She smiled and said, "Kotter, keeping this house going is a HUGE job. You shouldn't attempt to do it alone." (She calls me Kotter which is my maiden name. I think it's a cute option for a baby boy someday?) Hearing those words from here was such a breath of fresh air. I know she is right.

I am a strong and capable individual. I'm fairly organized and on-top-of-things. I am very guilty of taking over and doing everything myself because that seems easier than delegating and teaching others to help me. Chad has always been willing to help with house work, but 90% if the time I just do it myself. When I get sick or a crisis happens (ie: breastfeeding problems), things fall apart quickly. I hate that everything depends on me, but I recognize that I've made it this way.

Does anyone else struggle with these problems? How can Chad and I come up with a plan so that we both participate in running this house? How do others clean their houses? Do you do it every Saturday morning or a little bit each day? Do you nag each other? Do you fight about it? I don't want to nag or fight. This is one of the first times in our 4+ years of marriage to have a communication barrier. I'm just not sure where to start in order to change this pattern. Help, anyone?

my days lately

Life has been interesting lately. I will bullet point the recent developments:

• Depression.
I am feeling better!! I started taking an antidepressant three weeks ago. I began feeling like myself about a week ago. I realized I felt better one afternoon as I became aware that I wasn't thinking about being depressed. It is such an underlying thing. It effects everything and yet it's so easy to ignore. I have minimal side effects from the drug, which is a relief. I am glad I took the leap into the antidepressant world that I feared for so long.

• Breastfeeding.
Last week it came to my knowledge that Melody wasn't getting enough milk. She was not pooping / peeing enough, had barely gained any weight, and was increasingly frustrated while nursing. She was also sucking on her fingers all the time. (And I mean ALL THE TIME.) I was not concerned for a long time because she is such a happy baby. She smiles, laughs, coos, sleeps well, etc. I became alarmed when I gave her a bath and noticed her little ribs poking out. I visited with my Le Leche League leader (too many L's) and she watched Melody nurse. She said Melody was sucking-sucking-sucking, but not swallowing. Poor baby!!

• Social.
Since this breastfeeding wall occurred I've had an amazing support network. One mom gave me her expensive Medela pump. Another offered her pumped breastmilk for supplementing. Each day someone has called to check on me. Then Ellen gave me bags and bags of her pumped frozen milk. My mom has been my biggest cheerleader, offering tons of moral and emotional support. I am overwhelmed and grateful.

• Schedule.
I've been trying to pump every two hours for the past few days. I am suppose to give Melody about 30 ounces a day. I'm only getting about 15 ounces from pumping. She drinks my pumped milk from a bottle and then I supplement the rest with Ellen's milk. In the past four days she has stopped sucking her fingers all the time and has developed dimples in her knees. Also, her ribs are covered up with a big belly!! She is heavier too. Today I took her to the doctor office and she weighed in at 11 lbs / 5 oz. I have a feeling she'll gain quickly for awhile as she catches up. I still nurse her to sleep and a few times thoughout the day.

• Freelance.
A few weeks ago I aquired a few freelance design projects. I committed myself to a hefty amount of work. The deadlines do not begin to roll in until June, which is approaching with speed. I began the projects, but put everything on the back burner when the breastfeeding problems surfaced. Now I'm stressed out about the work and have decided to forego my precious Friday Mom Get Together tomorrow morning. I'm sad to miss it, but I won't enjoy it if the projects are weighing on me.

So that's pretty much everything for now. I hope to blog more often. I always say that.

questions & answers

Since Melody was born I've made a new group of friends. We met through various ways and all have babies. We all stay at home. We all have sought information and knowledge about unmedicated childbirth. As we hang out we compare birth stories. Half of us had our babies at home; the other half in hospitals. All of us attempted to do it without medication. All of us were changed because of our experience. We get together on Friday mornings. We schedule these times to be from 10 to noon, but usually we end up going out to lunch together and hanging out until 2 or 3 in the afternoon. We talk about our birth stories a lot and ask questions like:

Would you do it again?
Who was at your birth?
What would you do differently?
What surprised you about your birth?
What was the first thing you felt / thought after your baby was born?

I will answer these questions about Melody's birth.

• Would I do it again? I do not know. Making the decision to have an unmedicated birth was a long process. Deciding to have a homebirth was an even longer process. It required lots of time, thinking, talking, and praying. Chad and I will have to go through a similar process again the next time we are pregnant. Lord willing.

• Who was at my birth? My husband, Chad. My midwife. And my childbirth instructor / doula.

• What would I do differently? This is probably the hardest question for me to answer. I am still unsure of the entire answer. One of the negative things about my birth is that I was "performing" for my instructor / doula. I was trying to do everything the "right" way so that she would think highly of me. I wanted to be her star student. I was not aware of these things until recently. Because of this realization I would probably opt for my instructor / doula to not be present. I might have my mom there the next time.

• What surprised me about my birth? The pain. I don't think there is any way to prepare oneself for the intense pain of childbirth. I watched many videos, read books, talked to other moms. I exercised and ate 80 to 100 grams of protein everyday. I felt so prepared. I thought my preparation would pave the way for an "easy" labor. This wasn't the case. The contractions were the most intense thing I've ever come close to experiencing. It is amazing how powerful they are. I couldn't believe it. I'm still dumbfounded by the power and instensity of those contractions. Another thing that surprised me was my lack of emotion when Melody was put on my chest immediately after being born.

• What was the first thing I felt / thought after my baby was born? Relief. Relief. RELIEF. The only thing I felt was relief. I had no joy and no tears. My body shook as I held her in my sweaty arms. She looked up at me with alert eyes. She had a scared look on her face. Soon I smiled and exclaimed over her, but the only immediate response was relief.

little melody & a big decision

Melody is four months now. I can't believe how quickly she is growing. She is small for her age -- in the 10th percentile. She's not the baby imagined myself having. All the babes in my family are bald, fair, and big. She has dark hair and golden skin like her daddy. And she's little. She weighs around 11 pounds. All the babies we hang out with are big and chunky. She is dainty and lean. For awhile I was concerned about her size. I began waking her up in the middle of the night to feed her. This resulted in a tired mommy and a cranky baby. I realized that she is doing great despite her small size. She is alert, content, smiley, and happy 85% of the time. She eats often during the day. I know she's getting hindmilk because she often eats for 45 minutes to a hour on one side. Chad's side of the family has smaller people so I guess she's taking after her daddy in more ways than one.

Even though she's not the baby I imagined, she is perfect. She and I get more attached everyday. She recognizes my voice and often calms down at the sound of my words. She smiles brightly when she finds me in a room full of people. I love dressing her, changing her, bathing her, feeding her, talking to her and dancing around the house with her in my arms.

Despite all these wonderful moments, I'm still struggling with depression. I still cry on a regular basis for no reason. The tears just fall and fall and fall. I feel down even when the weather is sunny and clear. I wander around the house unsure of what to do with myself. I try to muster motivation to plant flowers, bake pumpkin bread, and finish decorating the baby's room. These things remain undone. I watch Dawson's Creek reruns instead, even though every single charater on the show thoroughly annoys me. Spending time with people helps a little. It serves as a distraction from the way I feel. A recent bout with mastitis brought the realization that with physical pain came relief from the mental and emotional pain. I almost welcomed the fever, chills, and achiness because it gave me a break from feeling sad.

I finally gave up trying the natural supplements, teas, and progesterone cream. It's been four months. They weren't working. I went to the doctor. He was wonderful. He said, "It is very common for women who stop working full time to stay home to be depressed. It's a huge change. Also, are you dealing with any trauma related to your birth experience?" Ding! Ding! Ding! I guess I'm not crazy after all. Each time someone tells me that what I'm dealing with is normal I feel so much better.

I started taking the anti-depressant Wellbutrin two days ago. The generic perscription was $92 for a one months supply. I was shocked at the price. I've never taken a drug on a regular basis -- not even the pill. I'm trying to be postive about this decision. My mom told me to try to think of Wellbutrin as "my friend." That made me laugh, but maybe she's right. If I cringe everytime I think of it, it probably won't work as well. Deep down I know I've made the right decision. I do not want to remember Melody's first year as a cloudy depressing time.

days gone by

This morning I got up with Chad. I made french toast and Columbian coffee. The french toast turned out soggy. We ate it anyway, avoiding the middle. Sitting at the table together in the quiet morning reminded me of our newly wed days.

Chad was still in college when we got married so we lived in the married student housing on campus. Everyone complained hugely about the accomodations. The 35 year old duplexes were made of grey cinderblock. The rooms joining them were the master bedroom and bathroom. (!) Not a good thing when two newly married couples are the residents. Not to mention, we already knew the neighbors. Ick. The bathroom was so tiny that it was nearly impossible for two people to brush their teeth at the same time. The kitchen was also small. The fridge and oven could not be open at the same time for lack of space.

Despite all the maladies, I loved living there. We had a bizarre little patio at the front of our spot. A red chain link fence seperated our cracked patio from the road that led to a rundown dog kennel. We set up a hammock and outdoor chairs. We ate our first suppers as a married couple on that patio. The duplex also had large windows from the 1960s. They surrounded the eating area and living room. We would open all of them and let the breeze overtake the rooms. Wind chimes, which had been a wedding gift, sang loudly. It felt like a beach house to me. I loved it.

I recall getting up early one morning. I made breakfast and had extra time. I cut a fresh pineapple into shapes making the words, "I love you." I arranged them on a cobalt blue plate just in time for Chad to walk into the kitchen. His hair was wet from his shower and he smelled good, like soap. I proudly presented the work of art to him. He smiled, ate the pineapple, and with a mouth full said, "I love you too, baby." This morning eating soggy french toast reminded me of those early married days. We now live in a neighborhood with sidewalks and sod. Our bathroom has two sinks -- one for each of us! We've come a long way in four fast years. My memories of Married Student Housing put a smile on my face. I loved those first five months of our marriage.

falling in love

This week I am realizing something. I'm falling in love with Melody. I have loved her since I found out I was pregnant last spring. I loved her the moment she was born on December 22. But as she grows I find myself getting more attached to her each day. In the first few weeks of her little life I had no problem leaving her with my mom for a hour. Now it is gettting more difficult. Yesterday my mom watched Melody while I went to the gym and the grocery store. A few weeks ago I would have flown out of the house without a second thought. Yesterday I was different. I kissed her smooth face several times before tearing myself away. Once at the gym I enjoyed the time away, but getting there wasn't easy.

Melody has begun talking to us. She makes cooing sounds and laughs when we talk to her. She falls asleep in my arms. Her little mouth hangs open as her body is limp with relaxation. I love it. When she is awake her eyes are full of expression. Her tiny eyebrows raise with suprise at sound and movement.

I have lunch plans with one of my new mom friends today. I'm looking forward to it. We've recently discovered our birth experiences have similarities. I'm excited to exchange these things with each other. This week I feel less sad and a little more normal. What ever that means.

saturday breakfast

The air smelled of cigarettes and breakfast grease as we entered the familiar diner. My damp hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. I wore smooth shimmery purple Burts Bees lipgloss. As Chad and I slid into a brown booth, I eyed the bowl of creamers and thought, "We're going to need more than that."

Eating breakfast out on the weekend is a tradition for us. Since Melody's arrival we've avoided our favorite diner due to the smokey environment. This mornng we left her with the grandmas (both are visiting) and relived our tradition of sharing a waffle, hashbrowns, and a spanish omelet.

It was easy to fall back into the groove of just us. We talked, observed, remembered, dreamed and hung out. We drove home with full stomachs and the windows down. It felt good.

morning dreams

The days since talking to Jennifer have been better. I have smiled and laughed without trying. It's nice. I'm slowly processing things. I think the sadness was not so much post partum depression as trauma related to my birth experience. I'm getting closer to understanding as I write, talk and think about it. Today I had lunch with our childbirth teacher / doula. I went to the restaurant nervous with prayers under my breath. I didn't want to offend, but I had questions. It turned out to be a profitable hour of honesty and truth. I'm getting closer. As I figure things out, I feel lighter.

This week I've spent good time with my sister-in-law, Chelsea. She's 23 and is experiencing God for the first time in her life. She is addicted to her bible and reads it throughout the day. When she doesn't understand something she reads it aloud and inquires of it's meaning. The other day we ended up with four different translations open on the dining room table as we tried to figure out a parable in Luke. Her new interest in the bible is contagious. It's been ages since I wanted to open my bible. Instead I usually go to my hymnal. The words of the old songs capture my heart when verses are familiar and stale. Today I went to Proverbs 31 and slowly read the verses, trying to soak them in. I even used some cross references. It was nice.

Before Melody was born I daydreamed of being a mother who spent early morning times with God. I pictured of myself drinking coffee, reading, pondering and praying in a dimly lit breakfast area before the others were awake. This idea is appealing and I want to figure out a way to make it happen.

sunny day

Yesterday I hit a new low. I was driving alone, coming home from Walmart. I reached for my cell phone to call Jennifer, my midwife. Ring, ring, ring. No answer. I hung up and began to cry. Seconds later the phone rang and it was her. I tried to say hello in a chipper tone, through the tears. Why do I do that? Jennifer's calm voice asked if I'd like to come see her. It was the question I wanted to hear.

Three hours later I was in her home office; a bedroom/bathroom on the first floor of her 100 year old home in Fayetteville. The bedroom windows were up, and the simple sheet curtians billowed every few seconds. I sat in an oversized rocker and attempted to smile. I began talking. The conversation lasted a hour and a half even though she had a pregnant patient waiting in the living room for the last thirty minutes. I asked a lot of questions about my birth.

Are all births as intense and painful as mine?
What was I like in the midst of it?
How do women decide to have another unmedicated birth after such a traumatizing experience? (She has done it three times.)

She mainly listened to me, cried a little herself, told me her own stories, and gave me hope. I am still not ready to blog the whole birth story, but I can say that I feel I was tricked. I read many natural birth stories that gave me the impression that if I did the right exercises, ate the right foods, prepared with Chad, breathed enough, and had positive thoughts, my labor would be easy. This was not the case. It was hard. It hurt a lot. I thought my legs were going to twist off during the second stage contractions. I was NOT able to relax like I thought I "should" be. The first tme I held Melody I felt no joy or miracle. I only felt intense relief. The biggest relief I've ever known. It was over. That is all I cared about. These feelings blind-sided me. What happened to the "beautiful experience" I had heard and read so much about? Where were the wonderful feelings? In the following week I'd look at Melody's head and cry at the memory of pushing her out. People would say, "She is so little!" and I would think, "You are crazy. She is HUGE."

Yesterday Jennifer helped me understand that my experience and feelings are common and normal. She said only 3 births out of the 170 she has delivered have been "easy" for the mother. Hearing these things makes me feel like the books I read and the lessons I was taught were largely propaganda. How dare they tell me it was going to be easy!!

Another thing we talked about was my weight and my body. I have been tall and thin my whole life. I gained 55 pounds during the pregnancy and am still 25 pounds above the pre-pregnancy weight. I've only lost 10 pounds in the past 10 weeks! Jennifer didn't give me answers about the weight-loss. She did something better. She told me I was beautiful right now. I drove to her house thinking 2005 was going to be my "fat year." I left her house feeling GOOD about the way I looked!! The belly pooch, the round butt, the gimormous boobs.... it didn't bother me anymore. Instead I held my head high and told myself, "You just had a baby and you are a beautiful mommy."

I feel lighter today than I have in two weeks.

another week

I floated through another weekend feeling odd.

My 18-year-old sister-in-law visited from Illinois. She's quiet, helpful, observant, perceptive, intuitive, and honest. I have always enjoyed her company. She loves babies and is wonderful with Melody. She's a natural. For some reason, each time she visits us I flip out. Last time she was here I was pregnant. I ended up bursting into tears at the grocery store when Chad asked me what we were having for supper. Then yesterday I lost it again in the car. I was in the backseat with Melody. She was screaming her tiny head off and driving me crazy. I ended up in tears as well. I barked at Chad, "Can you drive faster?"

I wonder what my sis-in-law thinks when I break down?

When I was younger I was hard on others. I thought I had life figured out. One of my good friends got married 4 years before me. I was inwardly critical of the way she and her husband interacted. Now I'm married and I realize their behavior wasn't that big of a deal. It was normal; unlike the utopian view of marriage I possessed at the time.

This week my mother-in-law and other sis-in-law will be here. I am at a loss. Do I tell them I'm depressed? Or do I act like nothing is the matter? I'm sure they'll notice before the five days is up. How do others deal with depression and family members?

the plan

Today was better. My mom was here again. This morning she watched the baby and I went to the gym. I did 35 minutes of cardio, some stretching, and light arm weights. It felt so good to get out of the house and focus on working hard. After that mom, Melody and I ate lunch today at a small local Italian cafe. We talked about the depression. She says she can see it in my eyes. In the course of the conversation Melody's birth was mentioned. The topic brought instant tears to my eyes. I haven't blogged about the labor/delivery yet. I'll save that for another day. For now I'll just say I feel traumatized by the experience.

After lunch mom and I parted and I spent time in Fayetteville. It is the neighboring city; about 20 minutes from our house. I love Fayetteville. It has hills, history, artistic buildings, local restaurants, interesting people, lots of trees, great coffee, and nice parks. I went to my favorite coffee shop, Arsagas. It was Melody's first time there. I held her on my lap while I drank a decaf, skim mocha and journaled about the past few days. It felt good to write.

I recalled spending time in the same coffee shop five years ago. I lived and worked in Fayetteville at that point. Most mornings I'd stop in for coffee. I was single at the time. I'd watch the other career people and observe their lives. Working moms would often come in with their preschoolers. The kids would be blurry eyes at the pre-eight-o'clock hour. The moms would say, "Do you want a scone or a muffin today?" The kids could never eat a fourth of the huge bakery items. They were probably wishing for Trix or Lucky Charms instead.

Chad and I have a plan. We decided we're both eating too much sugar these days. We decided we'll eat one serving of sugar (ie: dessert and cokes) for each two times we exercise. The past two days have been difficult as I was eating chocolate and other sweets every day before. I am hoping the plan will motivate me to exercise as well as help me loose weight. I am still 30+ pounds above my pre-pregnancy number. I also hope a smaller intake of sugar will result in feeling better emotionally and physcially.

In the meantime I will try to go to my favorite places in Fayetteville more often.

more fog and teething

Today was also difficult. My mom came over for a few hours which helped immensely. She served me potato soup, brought me water, and helped with the baby. We talked about depression. She has experienced it on and off throughout my life and recently decided to give Prozac a try. This decision is a huge deal for her because she's always opted for the natural methods of treatment in the past. They have helped some, but not enough. I'm curious and hopeful to see what happens for her.

Back to me.

I wonder about taking an anti-depressant myself. I am also more comfortable with the natural methods and now I am double hestitant because I'm breast-feeding. A few years ago I saw a couselor for about a year. The decision to see her the first time was extremely difficult even though I knew it was necessary. It took me months to gather the courage for the first appointment. After the first session it was easy to go back for more help. That year was full of change, challenge, growth and learning.

I wonder if the step of deciding to take an anti-depressant is similar?

--------

On a different subject, I think Melody is teething! She turned three months old today. Babies rarely get teeth this early, but I'm fairly sure she the two bottom ones are coming in. She woke up from her morning nap earlier than usual. She was fussy and refused to latch on when I tried to feed her. This has never happened before! She is always eager to eat, even if she's not super hungry. She screamed with her head tilted back in pain. She hasn't cried that way since she was brand new and tiny. It was so sad! I called a friend who has six kids and explained the symptoms. Drooling, sucking fingers, crying, refusing to eat, etc. She said to look at the gums. I did this and I saw tiny white ridges! I think. I gave her some infant tylenol and that helped her somewhat. Even when she is horribly fussy, I love her so much. I hope the teething pain is short lived. And most of all, I hope she doesn't bite me when I feed her. Ow.

i think i am depressed

I am trying to figure out if I'm dealing with baby blues or true post partum depression. Melody will be three months old this week. I am starting to wonder if it's true depression. The books say the baby blues are short lived in the immediate days following birth. I'm still struggling.

This past weekend we went to Dallas to visit friends. The purpose of the trip was to go to the Botanical Gardens to see the daffodils and tulips. I love tulips and the outting was my idea. Five friends accomodated me in this adventure, each paying $8 to see the flowers. As we strolled through the spectacular fields I felt strangely empty. I forced myself to smile with the others and to put on a happy face for the camera. Feeling sad with these friends was evidence of my true state. These are the people I can laugh with even when things suck. They are the ones I am comfortable with when I'm having the hardest of days. Yet I was still sad and heavy in their company.

I wonder if my heaviness is due to the hormone prolactin. This hormone is sometimes referred to as the "mothering hormone." It is released when breast-feeding and produces feelings of calmness, attachment and protectiveness toward the baby. My midwife told me that sometimes this hormone is connected with a mild depression that can be described as a cloud hanging over the mom during her months of breast-feeding.

It is very difficult for me to admit that I am depressed. I have everything I've been dreaming of for the past three years. My baby girl sleeps through the night so I am rested. Chad is supportive of me staying home with her. My mom loves Melody to pieces and supports me continually. I don't understand why I am sad. I have tried taking natural supplements such as B-Complex, Wild Mexican Yam Pills, Omega 3-6-9, and St John's Wort tea. Sometimes I think they help, but I'm obviously still struggling.

For several weeks I have been attributing the depression to drastic changes in my life -- having the baby, quitting my job, adjusting to being home, meeting new people, and becoming a mother. When I think of these things individualy I am not phased by them. They are all wonderful actually. There is not a logical reason for feeling sad, weepy, and overly sensetive. I have to wonder if I am truly depressed. What should I do?

finding my place

Each day I wonder what I should write about. The morning slips by, then the afternoon, and before I know it I have given up trying to think of something interesting to say. Today I will write more freely. I will simply tell of what I'm dealing with. It may not be coherent or interesting, but I am determined to share it.

I'm trying to figure out where I belong in mom-land. Some days I venture to the mall. I see other moms with their strollered babies in the baby Gap, Gymboree and other baby stores. These moms are put together. They have highlights in their hair, cell phones in their pockets, and name brand clothes on their kids and themselves. In this environment I touch my wispy lopsided ponytail and sigh.

Other days I join moms at the local Le Leche League meetings and Attachment Parenting play groups. Some are the home-schooling type of poeple. Others are funky hippie types. Their kids run around with unmatching hand-me-down clothes and hair that has never seen a hair-dresser's chair. One three year old boy was wearing black boots embossed with flowers. I can only assume they once belonged to his older sister. When I go to these gatherings I feel sightly self-concious if Melody is wearing one of her sweet Gap outfits. I feel like she would fit in better if she had on a Goodwill outfit.

I feel more comfortable with the latter group of women because they seem less judgemental. They aren't freaking out about schedules or benchmarks of development. I also like it that they can teach me things about healthy living and economical tricks. For instance, I recently learned how to make my own baby wipes out of paper towels, baby oil, and baby wash. And yet when I'm with this group I also feel out of place.

I guess I forgot how difficult it is to make new friends. People who accept and receive. I keep thinking there have to be other moms out there who feel the same way I do. For this reason I stay friendly, open, and warm when interacting with my new acquaintances. I'm dying for a kindred spirit to say, "YES! I'd love to walk with you on a weekly basis." So far I'm still smiling, nodding, and hoping for progress, whether it comes from the mall world or the garden world. Either one would be fine with me.

home remedies

This morning was a struggle. I slept until 10:00am after a hard night with the baby including a 5:00am feeding. I do better when I'm able to start my day early. When I sleep late I struggle with sadness. Add a cloudy day to the equation and I was in tears by noon.

I watched more television coverage about Martha Stewart. She was speaking to her 600 employees in Manhattan. She talked about their creativity and talent. I was mesmerized even though the things she said weren't all that intersting. I scanned the group of employees sitting behind her. I looked at their hair, clothing, etc and wondered what their lives were like in NYC.

I'm trying to adjust to this staying-at-home-mom thing. I know it is what I want, but I'm scared and unsure. I tell myself that taking good care of a baby is one of the most productive things on earth. But I feel lost. I guess I'm afriad I won't be worth as much without a career. At the same time I'm incredibly grateful and elated for the opportunity to be home with Melody. Everytime she smiles at me I melt with awe and joy.

I pondered these things while sitting on the couch with wet hair from my shower an hour before. I decided maybe it would help if I "looked" better. I've made a point to take a shower everyday, but beyond that I don't do much unless I'm going somewhere. I fixed my hair (pigtails) and put on makeup. I pulled out some sparkly silver eyeliner and went kinda crazy. Then I made myself a homemade mocha. It was surprisingly close to the real-$4-thing. I read a few verses and asked God for purpose, understanding and help.

I feel quite a bit better. Thankfully Melody has slept in her swing for the past several hours, giving me opportunity to do all these things. Soon she'll wake up hungry. I'll feed her and try to remember that taking care of her is the most important thing I can be doing these days.

thoughts on martha

I just watched a television biography about Martha Stewart. I am impressed with her story. The success and creative ingenuity are inspiring to me. People talk about how difficult she is. They speak of her driven nature and insane work ethics. I don't doubt that any of this is true. But there is something about her that makes me feel good. As a designer I'm impressed with her magazine. As a creative homeowner I soak up her ideas for home and living. As a woman I am impressed with her success.

One of my long lost dreams is to live in Manhattan and work as a designer for her magazine. After watching her story on tv I can't help but think that if she were me, she'd go after this lost dream and make it come true.

Here I sit in my Arkansas residence, typing on a makeshift desk. I just put the baby to sleep. My goals for tomorrow are to do laundry, take a walk, make a new recipe, and try a new breast pump. I don't see the New York dream coming true. Unless I apply to be on her up and coming Apprentice reality tv show. Hmm, that's a thought. They say the winner will get a job that pays $250,000 a year.

the basics

Hello again. We now have internet access at home! Now I can blog and email again. I have so much to say here to catch up. For today I will stick with some basics. In the coming days I hope to expound.

Melody Raine was born on December 22. She arrived three weeks before the due date. We were very surprised. Her weight of 7 pounds, 14 ounces coupled with her reflexes told us she was a full term baby. We were unsure of the due date. I am glad she came before and not after the due date of January 9th.

Being at home with Melody has been challenging and wonderful. She caught onto breastfeeding without too many difficulties. By week three she was a little pro. She's gaining weight at a nice pace. She is now ten weeks old and weighs around 9 lbs, 4 oz. She has grown 2.5 inches. I am happy she is staying little -- she is still in her 0-3 month clothes. I didn't want her to grow too fast! I love this cuddly tiny stage.

I quit my job. (!!!) It was an agonizing decision to make. I was hesitant to close that chapter of my life. My four years as a greeting card designer were amazing. I was good at it. I enjoyed it. My peers were cool people. We laughed together at the office everyday. We went out to lunch often. I went on fun trips at least once a year. (New York City and Vancouver, Cannada were the highlight trips.) But once I made the decision I felt waves of relief. I will start a new chapter. Sometimes I get pensive and sad about quitting work, but most of the time my heart is light with the prospects of the near future.

I am excited to pursue new hobbies and goals. I want to cook more. I subscribed to a new magazine called Everyday Food. It's a Martha Stewart publication even though her name is not on the cover. I love the photography, design, and concepts in it. Also, the recipes appear to be just the right level of difficulty.

Loosing my pregnancy weight is one of my biggest goals. I gained 50 pounds. I still need to loose about 30 in order to be at my pre-pregnancy weight. Everyday I either wear maternity pants and massive overalls. I stare at my smaller size 10 clothes and think, "Wow. I have fun stuff here." I can't wait to wear it all again. It will be like having all new cloths!

I am having a couple moms over in less than two hours. They are new acquaintances who both happen to be beginners at knitting. They are going to teach me the basics. One of them has a toddler so I need to get busy picking up the living room. The darts on the coffee table and the digital camera in the corner are not the best toy options for her.

I am very happy to be back in internet-land. I hope to blog often... but I cannot promise that it will be more than humdrum mom stuff from here on out!

Message from Ellen

Hello everyone! This is Ellen, a friend of Bek's. Just letting you guys know that Rebekah had her baby (she's on maternity leave right now, sans computer, hence the message from me.)

Melody Raine was born (okay, now bear with me, because I honestly can't remember the specifics) the Wednesday before Christmas, about 10:30pm, at their house (homebirth.) She was about 7 pounds, 11 oz. and 20 inches long. Her contractions started at work, around noon, and Melody appeared that night. According to Bek, labor (no drugs) was "hard, but do-able."

I saw her last week and she seemed tired but happy. Melody is cute as a button, looks a bit like her daddy, and has chubby little cheeks.

anniversary

Today is our 4th anniversary. I am happy. I love anniversaries. They are better than birthdays because they are about two people instead of one. I love celebrating marriage; it is a worthy reason to live-it-up a little. Our first two anniversaries we planned extravagant trips. The outtings were a disappointment, probably due to our high expectations.

The first anniversary we went to a place in Missouri called Big Cedar Lodge. We stayed in a deluxe suite for two nights. We had an unexplainable crappy time. We tried to hike, tried eating yummy food, tried playing games, tried taking pictures, tried everything... and just could not get into it. We were both in a weird funk and couldn't shake it.

The next year I planned an anniversary trip for us. We went to Kansas City and stayed in a hotel near the Plaza. I had been there several times before on research trips for my job. I wanted Chad to experience eating at The Cheesecake Factory. Unfortunately it was the weekend before Christmas and we had to wait FOUR hours in order to eat there. The rest of the trip was centered around shopping, which I love. I had not thought things through very well though because Chad does NOT enjoy shopping. The premise of the trip was exhausting for him... people, shopping, waiting, concrete, traffic. Oops.

Last year for our third anniversary we decided not to go anywhere. Instead we simply went out to dinner, exchanged gifts & cards, and kept things lowkey. It was a success. Less is better sometimes. I dream of big anniversary celebrations for the big years of 5, 10, 20, etc. Someday I'd love to spend out anniversary in New York City. I hear it is an amazing place to visit at Christmas time. Of course if not careful that could turn into a bigger version of the Kansas City experience.

As for this year, Chad has some plans that I do not know about. I have a feeling we might be going somewhere nearby to spend the night away. My expectations are not high though -- I'm excited to simply relax and be together this weekend. I hope our Wonderful Saturday Trend continues. It is crazy to think that on our next anniversary we'll have an almost-one-year-old baby.

the state of ready

People keep asking me, "Are you ready?" There are several different types of "ready" they could be referring to. Is the house ready for the baby? Am I physically uncomfortable enough to want to go into labor? Is the nursery ready? Are the baby's clothes and bedding washed? Am I mentally prepared for contractions?

I am getting closer to all of these types of ready. Each night turning over in bed is more difficult. It borders on painful. I groan and lunge and pull the covers off Chad in the process. The baby's room is almost all together. The bedding and blankets are washed and sealed in large ziplock bags to keep them as dust free as possible. Tiny clothes are hanging in the closet. They are so small that they don't hang down more than 12 inches from the rod. I have a stash of diapers underneath the crib. Newborn. Size 1. Size 2. Tons of wipes also.

I guess the next step is becoming mentally prepared. Lately I find myself daydreaming of holding the baby immediately after she is born. I try to envision what it will be like to behold her for the first time. Her face, body, hands, feet, etc. Who will she look like? Will she make eye contact with me? Will she have a loud cry? I also daydream about the first days of taking care of her. Baths. Diapers. Feeding. Holding. Carrying. What will it be like? I am excited, but I don't know if I am ready. Some say you are never ready. This may be true, but I feel about as close to ready as I think I'm going to get.

wonderful saturdays

Chad and I have had two awesome Saturdays in a row. Last weekend we carved out time to spend the whole day together. We went out to breakfast and shared a large mocha with our egg sandwiches. Then we bought an eight foot Christmas tree. We set up the tree in the corner of the living room but ended up not decorating it because the branches needed to fall in order to hang lights and ornaments. The scent of pine filled the house as we misted the tree with water from a spray bottle. We spent the rest of the day playing games and taking it easy.

This past Saturday I woke up with a sore throat. Chad made me breakfast and hot tea with honey and lemon. Then we played Monopoly in front of the fireplace. He got the yellows by chance as well as three of the railroads. Because of this he would not make a deal with me; and he won! I think it was the first time he's beat me at Monopoly since we got married. He was pretty happy. We also played poker. Texas hold 'em, seven card stud, five card draw, deuces Wild. I had a few full houses. The trick was betting conservatively because Chad is fast to fold, being the cautious person that he is.

From time to time we'd talk about the baby and how soon she will arrive. We go for brisk walks in order to prepare my body for labor. Our neighborhood has quite a few Christmas lights. This is a fun time to be expecting a baby. I can't wait to hold her wrapped up in a soft fuzzy blanket.

letters and packages

I have a long time friend. We've known each other since junior high. We've been through close times and not-so-close times. With the exception of 3 months we've always lived in different states. I was a lonely 6th grader with no friends when her family moved to our town in Northern California. We met at church and hit it off immediately. Three short months later her family moved again... far away. Thus began a long friendship of letters.

We wrote to each other on a weekly basis. I saved a lot of the letters. It is fun to go through them all these years later. Our handwriting was bubbly back then. The stationary was bright florescent colors. I loved Lisa Frank stuff back them... purple, pink, stars, hearts, unicorns, kittens... very junior highish stuff.

As we got older we talked on the phone more. We talked about boys late into the night. I remember one conversation where we listed out the ten boys we wanted to kiss! I think we were in 16. (Neither of us had kissed anyone yet at that point.) We also continued writing letters during this time. We both wrote with the same amount of detail. This common hobby of writing is the thing that kept our friendship alive.

During college we were not as close. We drifted a little after she got married. I was busy with new friends while she was occupied figuring out marriage stuff. Letters were more sporatic and phone calls less frequent. After a few years I go married. We started corresponding more, which leads us to present day.

My friend is also pregnant. She is due two weeks after I am. For the past 8 months we've been emailing, writing, and chatting nonstop about our pregnancies and the future. We've been exchanging packages full of babies items. When one of us finds a clearance item or a steal at a garale sale, we think about the other and wonder if it is package-worthy. We know each other's tastes. She knows I love the Baby Gap. I know she dislikes the feel of micro-fleece.

I am thankful for our letter-writing and package-sending hobby. It's fun to have a friend who has the same delight in sharing silly details and baby trinkets.

feeling strange

I am starting to wonder how far away labor is. My body is doing weird things. I experience small contractions often, but not regularly. Usually they don't distract me from what I'm doing at the moment. I am trying not to get too excited. After all, I'm still 5 weeks away from the due date.

I'm still growing. I had to buy yet another pair of pants over the weekend. The ones that I thought were going to last me until the end are too tight to wear. The tight band made it impossible to bend over. One doesn't realize how often she bends over until her pants start to cut her in half! Simple tasks like tying one's shoes becomes a major feat. I was annoyed to have to buy another pair of pants when I'd rather spend the money on the baby. The new jeans are wonderful though. I actually feel kinda cute in them!

hot dish

Wednesday night was especially fun. Laura had us over for dinner. Beck recently decorated their duplex for Christmas. It is cozy and relaxing. I got comfy in the recliner with a homemade quilt while Laura and Neil finished making dinner. We had Hot Dish. I'd never heard of it before -- it's a midwestern thing I think. She layered ground beef, tomato soup, green beans, and mashed potatoes in a dish and baked it. It was a success. Chad renamed it "Tater Pie" which made us all laugh and be silly. Thankfully my laughter didn't turn into unexplainable tears this time.

name

I am having naming issues. When we found out we were going to have a baby I was excited to talk about names. Soon we had a short list of options. We decided on a boy name easily. Logan Hunter. We like Logan because it is unique, but not weird. I also like 5-letter names for some reason. Two syllable names are nice. We had a harder time with a girl name. Melody was on the list from the beginning. It was my favorite. After a few months we settled on it. A few weeks ago Chad said out of the blue, "Are you positive about the name Melody?" I had been wishy-washy as well so we began to reconsider. The problem is, no other names have jumped out at us. We are blank. We settled on Melody again.

I am still unsure though. Ellen and others love the names they've chosen and "know" they are right. I like the name Melody, but I don't love it. I wonder if she won't look like a Melody when she's born. Or will people mistake her for a Melanie her whole life? Maybe we'll have a surprise boy and the name thing won't be an issue. I thought about using Logan for a girl, but Chad feels strongly that it is a boy's name. I don't know what we'll do.

heartburn

I am experiencing heartburn these days. The due date is less than six weeks away; the heartburn started about two weeks ago. I've never experienced anything like it. No wonder there is a whole aisle dedicated to antacids and over-the-counter drugs for sufferers of heartburn. It is horrible!!

It usually hits me in the afternoon and crescendos into full blown torture by the time I try to fall asleep at night. I've tried avoiding carbonation, walking, eating small meals, and drinking water. Sometimes these things seem to help and other times they make no difference. Every once in awhile I'll have a heartburn-free day and I cannot figure out the reason. I hope this pregnancy symptom goes away as soon as the baby is born!

If anyone know of tricks to calm the pressure in my upper chest, let me know! So far I've been using Tums every now and then. They help a little.

thanksgiving

We had a good Thanksgiving trip. The first two days were spent with my mom's side of the family. Each year they rent a church camp. The females and babies get one of the bunk bed rooms and the men/boys get another. We each bring the makings for our favorite side dish and aunt Julie makes the turkey. There is an annual football game between cousins, uncles, and spouses. We also had a ping-pong tournament which Chad won.

My cousin Amy and I got along for the first time in our lives. She is four years older than me. In previous years there has always been tension between us. It was never addressed, but always present. This time we clicked and chatted amiably. She has two young kids. I think the fact that I'm about to become a mother is the reason we clicked. For the first time we have something in common. She shared well-received advice, funny stories, and mother wisdom. Our pleasant time together was a long time coming and I am happy about it. Grandma would be happy too.

The second half of the trip was spent with my Uncle Jerry; my dad's brother. Uncle Jerry has always been a family favorite. Everyone loves him. He is easy going, nonjudgemental, and lots of fun. Jerry, dad, brother, and Chad played lots of poker. We ate gobs of blue bell ice cream (cookies and cream), had large/late breakfasts, watched satelite television, and didn't leave the house for two full days. It was relaxing.

Uncle Jerry and I reminisced about the days when I was a little girl. He'd visit us in Fort Worth and give me a quarter. We'd walk to the corner 7-11 gas station so I could spent the money. He says it took me a long time to decide what to buy. He patiently waited while my little mind worked through the vast candy choices. Good ole Uncle Jerry.

that time of year

I've been in the mood to decorate for Christmas for the past week. I lugged 4 rubbermaid containers from the garage into the living room. They are full of lights, ornaments, candle holders, tree accessories, and trinkets. I arranged a group of white candles on our mantle. They are leftover from our wedding. (Which was four years ago!) Each evening I light them and enjoy the glowy light. I've started playing Christmas music and drinking hot tea with lots of honey.

Earlier in the pregnancy I didn't know if I'd be excited for the holidays this year. I thought it might be better to skip them. As the days got shorter and holiday baking items appeared on store shelves I found myself excited for the holiday season again. I love this time of year.

Part of me hopes little Melody is born this year. I want to put her in a soft red velvet stocking and take her picture!! I'm trying not to get my hopes up for her to arrive early though. Many first time pregnancies go past the due date. I don't want to flip out when January 9th comes and goes and I am lumbering around, as big as a house, putting away Christmas decorations.

all mixed up

We have seven weeks until the baby is due. I am a ball of excitement, stress, emotion, joy, stife, tears, laughter, on and on. A couple nights ago Chad and I were hanging out with three close friends. We were having a low-key happy time together. Something funny was said and I started laughing. Soon tears were filling my eyes and before I knew it I wasn't laughing anymore. Instead I was crying. Chad and our friends exchanged confused looks. I buried my face in a couch pillow and tried to regain my composure. It took awhile. I felt like a toddler who had missed her nap. Everything was simply too much for me. Soon after the emotional outburst, I assured my friends that I was okay and headed home to go to bed early. I wish I had made my exit thirty minutes before. Thankfully I have very cool friends and we will laugh about the incident in the future.

long awaited bowl

Over a year ago I posted an entry about a blue bowl. (See September 2003 posts.) I broke a favorite antique family bowl. Since the incident I've been scanning shelves at flea markets looking for a replacement. No luck. Today I arrived at work to find a wrapped gift sitting in front of the keyboard on my desk. The card said, "to Rebecca." This baffled me because my name is spelled "Rebekah." I assumed it was a baby gift, but could not figure out who would give me a gift yet not know the spelling of my name.

I opened the card and glanced at the name at the bottom of the note. It was from a girl that I barely know!!! She is a friend of a friend, a slight acquaintance. She's one of those people who I knew of, but I was not sure if she even knew who I was. I guess she knows me, too! Her note said that she reads my blog from time to time. She remembered my blue bowl story so when she found the small blue bowl at a flea market she bought it for me!!!!

I am a gift person. I love buying gifts for people. Rarely do I receive something so perfect as this morning -- this aquaintance must be made of the same gift/giving/receiving material of which I'm made. I felt a kindred spark as I read her note and tore the yellow pokka dot paper from the worn blue bowl. It was a wonderful way to start a Friday morning.

T H A N K Y O U H E I D I ! ! !

unexpected disappointment

I am truly happy about having a girl now. It took me a day or two to get to this point. After the ultrasound I was surprisingly baffled and sad. Chad and I went to a small town diner for breakfast after the appointment. As we waited for our food a family of three sat down at a nearby table. They had a 2 year old boy. My heart sank as I realized I wasn't having a boy. Later that evening my mom and I went shopping for baby clothes. As I sifted through the clearance rack I paused at each boy outfit with a sigh.

Two years ago my heart was set on having a girl. Then something happened and the idea of a baby boy became endearing. When I found out I was pregnant my instincts told me it was a boy. As an ENFP I trust my intuition a lot. It usually proves correct. I rationally understood that the baby might be a girl, but I purchased boy items and pictured a blue baby room. We settled on a boy name. (Logan Hunter.) When the ultrasound-lady told us it was most-likely a girl (she was 90% sure), I was surprised and numb.

I've gone through a mild process of grief to accept that this baby is not a boy. I am elated to have a girl, but also sad for the boy that will not be. I did not expect these feelings to be part of finding out the sex of the baby. I thought I'd be joyful just like I was the day I found out about the pregnancy. Instead I've had to process my feelings and thoughts to get to that excited place.

Now I'm ready to think GIRL. We've settled on the name Melody. For middles names we're thinking about Leah, Kate, and Raine. (Any opinions of these are welcome! I like hearing people's thoughts.) I've also been brainstorming about the nursery. I think we'll still do a blue & green theme with small doses of pink here and there. We'll paint the walls a pastel aqua color. I plan to paint large pokka dots on one wall with a gloss version of the same color. Another wall will get wide stripes.

It's been a weird week. I'm thankful we found out the sex of the baby now, rather than waiting; this way I feel more emotionally prepared than I would otherwise. Of course, there is still small chance it could be a boy... when I start thinking about that I get all weird again.

IT'S A GIRL!!!

Chad and I went to our ultrasound appointment this morning. The nurse said there is a 90% chance we're having a girl!!!! We are very happy. We have no preference for a particular gender, but all along I had a feeling it was a boy. When the nurse said "girl" I was surprised. It took me all day to get used to the idea of a girl. I've shared the news with my coworkers and family. Everyone squeals and hugs with joy. It is wonderful to have support and excitement around me.

The nurse said the baby measured big so my due date might change to Christmas day instead of January 9th. I would feel better about that because I've already gained 20 pounds! I'm starting to get uncomfortable. I have shooting aches along one side of my back and hip. Sleeping is getting difficult. I was a monster this morning. The idea of being two week further along makes me feel a little better. I am beginning to get antsy about the approaching 3rd trimester. I am also feeling joy and anticipation that makes the hard stuff worthwhile.

general happiness

I'm enjoying life these days. Being at home is one of my new favorite things. I used to be very social. I would make plans with people for nearly every night of the week. The weekends were full of company, meals with others, and talking on the phone. These days I'm different. I'm content to be at home alone. Chad traveled to Chicago last weekend and I soaked up the solitude like never before. In days past I would have filled my days with people, people, people. Instead I shopped alone, ate out alone, cleaned house alone, watched chick-flicks alone, planted mums alone and enjoyed every second of it. I even went to church alone! Before I would have never done that because I hated going to church by myself. Maybe the change is due to the sqirming life inside of me. I feel the baby moving about every 30 minutes! Or maybe I'm cherishing this alone time because in 4 short months I will have a baby to care for with minimal breaks. All I know is that solitude is my new best friend.

halfway

I had another doctor appointment today. We did the usual. Weigh in. Pee in a cup. Blood pressure. Doppler (heartbeat). Any questions? It was a fast appointment. The baby's heartbeat is stronger than it was last time. It goes swoosh-swoosh-swoosh. Chad and I smiled at each other as we listened to our baby's heart beating.I tried hard not to laugh with glee as I listened to it. Laughing causes static which overruns the swooshing.

We'll have an ultrasound in two weeks. If the baby cooperates we'll find out if it's a boy or girl. I'm ready to know!

little legs kicking

I'm feeling the baby move everyday now. I read last night that it's legs are the size of an adult little finger. No wonder the kicks are faint and fast! The book also said the baby kicks an average of 1000 times in a twenty-four hour period. I wonder how they know that? I guess the baby is working hard in order to grow muscles. Go baby go!

a productive weekend

Chad and I had a productive weekend. The biggest accomplishment made was a 10 foot picket fence across the edge of our front porch. Now that it is finished, it looks like a simple project; but it took us an entire Sunday afternoon to do. Chad made sure all the edges were flush and square. He cut 45 degree angles at the top of each picket to make a more 'finished look.' I like his attention to detail. We are pleased with the result. I'm excited to paint it white this week. I envision some homemade flower boxes along the top of the fence with springtime tulips. Maybe red ones. Do tulips do well in flower boxes? I don't recall seeing them that way.

In other news, I felt the baby move yesterday for the first time!!! I was laying in bed after a nap. I was relaxed and on my side. All of the sudden I felt a strong, faint, quick, flick. I think it was a kick? I smiled broadly and continued to lay there for 20 more minutes hoping to feel another movement. It feels even more real now. We will find out in 5 weeks if it's a boy or girl. Last night I dreamed we had a girl. All my other instincts say it's a boy.

to buy or not to buy

I have a confession. I am in love the Baby Gap clothes. I can browse their store with no concept of time, thumbing through the adorable prints and soft items. I get squealy when I see the tiny cargo pockets on the boy things and the delicate feminine trim on the girl things. I have not purchased a lot of baby clothes yet. I have a 25% off voucher for the Baby Gap for this weekend. I'm ready to go buy the whole store! My question is, how much stuff does a newborn really need? How many onsies will I need each day? Any advice of experienced moms out there is welcome!

better again

Well, the roller coaster continues and today I'm feeling better again. I'm very thankful that the overwhelmed-freakout-days only last for 24 hours. I was able to sleep last night and I woke up feeling much lighter. Part of the solution was probably the fact that I worked my bootie off in kickboxing last night. I'm convinced my stress level increases when I don't exercise. Side kicks are getting very difficult now that my belly is bigger. My balance and flexibility are going down the drain fast. Soon I'll be on the back row with the old people in the class. One guy is in his 60s and has had a knee replacement surgery. He's endearingly cute with his large black boxing gloves and skinny old man legs. He kicks only 6 inches off the ground and cracks jokes the entire hour. As long as I keep doing something I figure I'm better off than just sitting on the couch.

overwhelmed again

This pregnancy thing has me second guessing myself every other day. One day I feel on top of the world. The next day I am anxious, scared and full of questions. Yesterday was one of the bad days and it is overlapping into today. I feel stressed out about how to have this baby. Pros and cons of a hospital birth vs a home birth swirl in my head. I never thought I'd consider doing a home birth with a midwife, but the more I learn, the better it sounds. And yet, what if something goes wrong? I'd never be able to forgive myself.

I'm also worried about work. I try to take things one day at a time, but inevitably there are days when I want to throw up my hands and give up. "This is too much!" I think to myself. Then the next day I have a great time and I say to myself, "Wow. I love my job."

I guess I'm on the pregnancy roller coaster everyone talks about.

weekend of progress

Chad and I had an unusual weekend. Usually we spend lots of time with other people. Sometimes we do things with our friends individually; many times we hang out with other couples or several people at a time. This past weekend we didn't do anything with anyone. We spend the entire weekend with just each other. We didn't plan it that way. It just happened.

Friday I had big aspirations to cook enchiladas for dinner. I went to a chiropartor (for the first time) after work. The treatment made me feel like jello and I lost my desire to cook. We ended up at Abuelos; a nice mexican place. We shared avacado enchiladas and a layered dip.

Saturday Chad woke up at 5:00am! He just couldn't sleep. We ended up at Krispy Kreme at 6:45. Whew. I was so tired. A fresh, warm, glazed donut right off the belt made me happy. I spend the rest of the day organizing and arranging piles of photos into new leather albums. We rented a James Bond movie that night, but couldn't stay awake long enough to finish it.

Sunday we went to the early service at church. Going to the 8:00am service isn't easy, but we're always glad for the way it makes the day longer. After church we headed to our favorite coffee house. It's called Common Grounds. (We used to smoke cigars there until a city ordiance against smoking in restuarants was passed. Err.) We ordered and shared eachother's food. I got eggs & potatoes; Chad got french toast. He likes sweet things for breakfast; I like protien and salt. After breakfast we went to the granola health food store. I bought pre-natal vitamins, Ester-C, MSM, flaxseed oil, protien powder, and bread. The total for our undersized brown bag of items was $104. We gulped and reminded each other that any doctor bill is easily that much and we only make it to the health food store once or twice a year.

Sunday afternoon we spend the whole day at home. It was unseasonably cool outside. It rained on and off. The dog was lazy and slept at my feet while I continued the picture project. Chad sat at the other end of the table and worked on house plans. Every few minutes he'd hold the drawing up for me to see and ask a question.

"Do the dormers look right?"
"How big should this window be?"
"Should that closet be bigger?"
"Which way do you want this door to swing?"

We've devised a house plan that is about 1450 square feet. It is two story, four bedrooms, with porches, open kitchen/dining/living room, and big closets. I am more excited than overwhelmed at this point. Progress feels so good!

I completed the photo task through 2002. I still have a mammoth stack of pictures from 2003 to deal with. 2003 was our year of traveling so there are tons of pictures. After doing 1995 through 2002 though, this one year will be a cinch. I cannot believe it, but we had accumulated over 1500 pictures! And we're always saying to each other -- "We never take enough pictures."

Yeah right.

sweet relief

Ahh, the joys of Friday. It has been a long week. Nothing remarkable happened; maybe that's why it dragged on and on. I'm looking forward to my regular dose of weekend napping. It has become a routine... work all week; crash on the weekends.

I also have the desire to do some "nesting." Namely, commence the massive project of putting photos into albums. About two months ago I bought five identical large leather photo albums at Target. They will hold a total of 1500 pictures! I don't think we have that many right now, but with the baby on the way I figured we use them soon enough. (I'm more of an album girl than a scrapbooker.) We have piles of envelopes full of pictures from college days, dating, engagment, wedding, honeymoon, birthdays, holidays, traveling, everyday life, pets, new house, etc. It is time to get them in order! We will see if this is the weekend I tackle the project or not...

freakout

Last night I had a freakout. I was intensely overwhelmed. The prospect of buying land & building a house is too much for me to fathom right now. I love the idea of being in the country, settled into a custom home, surrounded by trees and chirping birds. But the thought of moving in my 3rd trimester, or worse, with a newborn, absolutely freaks me out.

I'm also worried about the hospital at which I've chosen to have the baby. I feel great about the doctor, but stories about the nurses and facility make me second guess my decision. What is more important -- the staff or the doctor? Any opinions out there? I need them.

Work is also a lot these days. I'm in my 3rd week as a Gifts Designer. (I used to design Cards only; now I do candles, journals, gift bags, frames, and all kinds of other things.) I am happy in the new department. I made the right decision. BUT, the transition is difficult. I wake up most nights thinking about pressing projects, late dealines, and the unknown aspects of my job. Last night it all came crashing down on me. I decided to skip karate. I usually go for Chad's sake. Last night I wanted to think of only ME. :)

So I stayed home. I accidentally fell asleep on the counch at 7:20. Fourty minutes later I woke up in a panic. No! Now I won't be able to sleep, I thought. I grabbed the leash and took the dog for a long brisk walk. The humidity made it less than pleasant, but I wanted to tire myself out so I'd be able to sleep. After awhile we crossed the street to take a look at the cows in a field near our neighborhood. (This is Arkansas I'm talking about.) There were about 30 cows... half mamas and half babies. The babies were very interested in Montana. They walked right up to the fence to check him out. Any movement I made startled them, but the dog didn't bother them at all. We stood there a lot time. I talked to a litte dark brown calf; the cutest one.

Hanging out with the cows was good for me. They made me smile and momentarily forget about my adult worries. Maybe living in rural Arkansas isn't so bad after all.

sunday motorcycle ride

Yesterday afternoon Chad and I went for a motorcycle ride. It was the first time of the season for me to ride. I have been apprehensive about riding because of the pregnancy. I have a whole new set of anxieties and fears now. As we drove out of the neighborhood I wondered silently, "Should I be doing this?"

Chad is an overly cautious person. He knew I was nervous so he went extra slow. We drove to our favorite frozen custard place; 20 minutes from the house. We ordered a large mint-oreo contrete. Behind the drive-thru establishment was a small field of thick grass and trees. We sat in the shade and shared the custard slowly. Chad is a good sharer. We don't eat faster, faster, faster to get more. We go slow and give each other time. I've always liked this about us.

After we finished the custard he showed me how to wistle with grass between my thumbs. I put the grass to my mouth, blew, and shocked myself with the shrill sound that ensued. I was pleased because I typically can't figure things like that out. Then he showed me how to blow into my closed hands to imitate the sound of a whipper-will bird. (That is probably spelled wrong.) I felt like we were kids, playing on a summer afternoon.

On the drive home I was able to relax and enjoy the wind. Chad could tell I was more at ease and he gunned the accelerator on the straight parts of the road. I held on tight and smiled. Soon I'll be too big to fit comfortably behind him on the bike. I'm enjoying our last months of being married without kids.

overalls

I'm enjoying wearing overalls these days. They feel good because they have no waistband. This weekend I'll "turn" 15 weeks. It is fun to be almost four months pregnant. My body is already very different. I've gained about 10 pounds. I am thick in the middle. I've started wearing semi maternity clothes. Several girls have loaned/given me maternity items. I should not have to buy much. This makes me happy because I'd rather spend money on the baby!

While in Atlanta I bought several baby items. I have a feeling we'll have a boy so I purchased boy things as well as neutrals. My favorite is a Gap outfit. It's baby blue & white... a onsie, matching striped pants (with a drawstring) and a striped hat with a knot at the top. It is absolutely adorable. We'll have the unltrasound to see if it's a boy or girl in September. I will be shocked if it is a girl. Either one is perfect though. I am glad I don't have a preference.

I feel back to my normal self again. The past two weeks I've had energy! I still tire easily, but the icky stomach stuff is gone as well as the restless nights. I am sleeping better again. They say the second trimester is the honeymoon phase of pregnancy. So far that is true for me. Although I've been hugely happy every day since I found out; even when I felt icky.

I haven't taken any pictures of myself yet. I need to start as I look mildly pregnant now. I have low aspirations as far as scrapbooking goes. Many women excitedly ask, "Will you do a baby scrapbook?!" I just don't want to. Instead I'd rather do simple photo albums with blurbs of writing next to the pictures. Or I might opt for a Hallmark baby book. They have some beautiful ones.

swamped and happy to be home

I've been away for awhile. Part of this absence is due to travel. I went to Atlanta for six days. The first half of the trip was work-related. The second half was spent hanging out with friends and their toddlers. The idea of dealing with a toddler on a daily basis scares me. I'm super excited for the baby, but a toddler? I've never been a very patient person. I'm glad the toddler stage is on that comes later and not right away.

It is wonderful to be back home. I love traveling and I also love returning home. I missed Chad while I was away. By the time I saw him at the airport I was giddy with love and affection. It is fun to rekindle those junior high feelings of adoration every once in awhile.

Work is challenging right now. I have looming deadlines and I'm not sure how to get to the finish line. I have a lot to learn. I've been enjoying quiet time in the morning everyday. Time to sit outside, be quiet, pray, read, and think. The new job position has made me depend on God more than I've had to in the past few years. When life is easy and fun I don't go to Him much. It's the challenges and the hardships that remind me of my need for His presence and help. I'm glad He is always there ready and waiting.