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?

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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.