They like me! They really really like me!

Gosh, I don't even know where to begin with this post.

On Sunday MMC from Mommy's Midlife Crisis was so kind as to decide that my little blog here deserves an award. And not just any award. I have been given the Beautiful Blogger Award!

I want to thank MMC for this award, and let her now how excited about and honoured by it I am. I started this blog with the simple intent of keeping family and friends updated on what's going on in Matthew's and my life in our neck of the woods, and I never really thought it'd be passingly interesting to anyone who doesn't know us. It has kind of morphed from its original purpose, as I've used it instead as a place to write my thoughts, feelings and (perhaps a little too often) frustrations on life in general, and I'm so flattered that anyone should like to read my blog at all, let alone give me an award for it. So thank-you!!!

Anyway, here are the award rules, explaining how it works, so to speak.

1) Thank the person(s) who nominated you for this award
. (done. But as an aside, don't you hate when you're told to thank someone? It makes your actual, sincere thanks a little bit cheap, like you wouldn't have said thank-you anyway. Which I totally would have!)
2) Copy the award and place it in your blog. (done. Note the new little side-button picture thing!)
3) Link to the person(s) who nominated you for this award. (done in the thanks above, but here's one more for good measure: Mommy's Midlife Crisis)
4) Tell us 7 interesting things about you
. (done, although I chose to do 7 random things about me instead, and then you can be the judge as to whether or not they're interesting!)
5) Nominate 7 bloggers and link to their blogs. (done. See below!)

So first, 7 random things about me.

1) First I'll mention my OCD tendencies, because they make me laugh and you'll see right off the bat how random I am.

See, sometimes I think I'm OCD. I know everyone has a bit of OCD in them, but I think I'm a bit more OCD than the average Joe. For one thing, I count stairs. In places I frequent I can always tell you how many stairs there are per flight. I'd like to say this is so that I don't trip and fall when I'm carrying something that blocks my vision, but in reality, I just do it. In fact, I do it every time I'm climbing or descending stairs, I just only remember the number of the places I frequent. So there's OCD example 1.

OCD example 2 is that I really like palindromes on the odometer in my car. It excited me to no end when the k's were still below 100,000 and there was a palindrome every 110 km. Now it only happens every 1100 km, so it's an even bigger deal. I just think it looks so complete and cool. That's not necessarily OCD though. I guess the OCD comes in where I can't bear to look at the odometer when it's off by 1. It really bothers me. Like when it's 193392 instead of 193391. I'll soak up the perfectness of 193391 and then force myself to look away until it's well past 193392 because it bugs me to even see the odometer change from the one to the other.

OCD example 3 is a recent one. On Saturday Matt and I went to Walmart, and while there we picked up some hangers. Okay, so it was more than some hangers. It was a set of 30 white hangers of the type that I like. I was pretty excited about these new hangers. Here's why.

Some months ago I went through Matthew's and my closet. There were a ton of white hangers, and a moderate number of blue hangers, and then a bunch of hangers that were random colours. Of course the random colours bothered me, so I spent an hour hanging all of Matt's clothes on the blue hangers and all of my clothes on the white hangers, and then I put the random hangers in our front closet. But ohhh, what a problem for me it was when Matthew grabbed a white hanger to hang his shirt on, simply because the white hanger was closest to the end of the bunch of hangers. From that point on I kept Matt's blue hangers on the end, hoping he'd get the picture.

Recently, however, he ran out of blue hangers and had to use my white ones again. There was nothing to be done, so I just let it be, but it stilled irked me, because his solitary white hanger didn't match the rest of his blue hangers.

So when we were at Walmart I noticed this huge bunch of my favourite white hangers. I looked for blue ones for Matt, but couldn't find any. That's okay though, because my solution was to go through his entire wardrobe and replace the blue ones with white. Problem solved, right? Wrong! See, before I was just using all these mismatched white hangers, and using my favourite sturdy ones for the clothes I used the most. But now that I had a near endless supply of my favourite white ones, what was to stop me from only using my favourite ones? So I went through my wardrobe and replaced my mismatched white ones too. Which then got relegated with the blue ones to the hallway closet downstairs. I also had purchased a group a thick, sturdy blue hangers for heavy coats, so I rehung all of our coats in the closet, using Matt's old blue hangers for my spring jackets, and the sturdy blue ones for all the winter coats. Now there is a supply of matching blue thin and blue sturdy hangers ready to be used in the closet, along with some neutral white ones in case the blue ones run out with company over. And I totally threw out the mismatched hangers and the 20 wire ones that were in there from before, because we'd never need that many hangers, and those ones just didn't match.

So there. Is that OCD enough for you? And while we're on the topic of hangers, I must say I love plastic hangers. Growing up I only used wire ones, and I envied the plastic ones, but they cost money, and why spend money on plastic hangers when you have an endless stockpile of wire ones at your disposal? Then when I moved out I had to buy hangers and you can only buy plastic, but I didn't mind. I felt so posh and expensive buying the plastic ones, and I'm afraid I can just never go back to wire. They are an insult to my clothing.

2) While we're on the topic of shopping, I might as well continue and tell you the honest to goodness truth about my shopping tendencies. See, the truth is, shopping makes me happy. It's so materialistic, and I wish it wasn't true, but it is. There is something very exciting about buying new things to me, and it's easy for me to get carried away. I loved the movie, "Confessions of a Shopaholic" because, while I'm not a shopaholic (or maybe I'm just in denial...) I could totally empathize with a lot of the feelings she expressed. It made the movie quite hilarious to me because I could see how ridiculous I am sometimes. And I know it is complete ridiculousness.

But the fact remains that there is a thrill associated with buying things. When I am feeling down and Matt asks what would make me feel better, my mind always flicks to things to buy. Sad, huh? And when I'm feeling blue and can't think of anything I'd like to do, shopping always cheers me up.

Just so that you don't think I'm terribly selfish and materialistic, however, I have to admit that shopping makes me feel horrible if I'm buying something we can't afford, or if I go overboard and buy too much. I can just feel Matt's disapproval, and I feel about 3 inches tall. Not that he makes me feel that way on purpose, I just feel like I've let him down. So he's helped A LOT since we've been married, because I'm finally accountable to someone other than myself. If I wasn't I'd have a hard time budgeting and meeting payment deadlines, but I am so much better at saving and not spending too much since Matthew and I got married, and I completely have him to thank for it.

3) Okay, now for something (a little) less quirky, just so people don't think I'm entirely insane.

Random thing number 3 is how much I miss being pregnant. It's funny to think of when I have this amazingly adorable little boy to hug and hold and kiss all over, but I really really do miss it.

I miss feeling him kick inside of me, and the miracle of this big belly carrying a complete and separate being inside of me. I miss singing and knowing he can hear me. I even miss wondering when he'll be born, how much he'll weigh, what he'll look like, and so on. Isn't that silly? All the things that drove me nuts before.

I think back on labour and delivery, and I miss that too. Because WOW that was an exciting time! It hurt like the dickens, but it was so thrilling and emotional. I'm really looking forward to experiencing it again. Waking up because my waters broke and knowing that this would be the day my son is born.

I miss the excitement of finding out I'm pregnant and deciding how and when I'm going to tell people. I miss deciding whether we're going to find out if it's a boy or girl, and I miss ultrasounds with little babies on the screen.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm so HAPPY to have my little boy here. There are things I'm experiencing now that I'm soon going to look back on and miss too, so I'm trying to soak it all in. Instead of counting down the weeks, I'm counting up the weeks. Instead of rejoicing in milestones such as viability, eyesight and lung development, I'm charting milestones like laughter, cooing, and sleeping through the night. Instead of enjoying first heartbeats, ultrasounds and kicks, I'm enjoying first time out with the stroller, first time at church, first time breastfeeding away from home.

Of course life is beautiful and better now than when I was pregnant. It's moving forwards and progressing, and I'm so grateful for that. I'm just also very appreciative of the time I could spend pregnant, and wildly excited to do it again soon. But not too soon, because I want to fully enjoy my sweet little baby Eli.

4) I'm pretty sure my biggest character flaw is a lack of diligence, or to put it bluntly, laziness. In saying so, I'm not trying to state how awesome I am because I have such a seemingly minor character flaw, while others that I could have as my biggest one are much more serious. Quite the contrary. I think lazy is one of the worst things someone could possibly be, and it sucks.

There is so much that I'm capable of. There's so much EVERYONE is capable of, if we just manage to use the time given us wisely. So often I feel like 24 hours in a day is just not enough, but it's usually after having spent my morning reading blogs, looking at houses on mls.ca, pricing things I'll likely never buy, picking out bedding sets that I'd like to buy for the nursery (okay, so that wasn't a recent one, but I seriously wasted hours online doing that...) and so on. All that time wasted. Or not wasted, because they aren't particularly bad things to be doing. They're just not things that will build me and mold me into the person I want to become.

Here's a little anecdote that I really like. I can't remember if it's a true story or not, but I simply love the attitude. There was this old lady who was 80 years old. One day she told her daughter that she was going to go to university and get a bachelor's degree. The daughter laughed at her because, not only was the idea of an 80-year-old going to university with a bunch of 20-year-olds ludicrous, but the probability of her graduating was slim given her advanced age. The daughter (who, herself, was in her 50's) said to her mother, "Mom, do you know how old you'll be when you graduate???" to which the old lady replied, "Yes daughter. The same age I'll be if I don't graduate." This lady totally understood the concept of using your time to do worthwhile things, and exactly how much one person is capable of if they put their mind to it.

I so WANT to be like that. I want to be the person who has a new craft every day for their kids, who keeps a clean house, makes meals for her family, can sing, play piano, sew, make things with her own hands, spend time playing with her kids and kissing their scraped knees, and still have time to think about the needs of other around her. But when it comes down to it, I squander my time and don't have much to show for my day and all I've done. And it's all because of a lack of diligence. A lack of that determination to make something more of myself.

This lack of diligence doesn't just affect life in general though. How motivated can a lazy person be to say prayers, read scriptures, and seek after spiritual things? Do I expect everything to be handed to me, and to come without work attached? I want to be a grade 10 pianist, but do I want to work for it? I want a masters degree, but do I really understand the sacrifice and time that goes into it? I really, truly do want to inherit the celestial kingdom, but is that desire enough to keep me moving throughout the day, doing things that will draw me closer to the spirit, and strengthen me, preparing me for that day?

**sigh** yes, I know my shortcomings, and they are many. I feel that my pride, desire for materialistic things, difficulty not judging others, and short temper are failings, indeed, but none of them are so great life-altering as my laziness, which affects my motivation to overcome each of those faults in turn.

So lately I've been working really hard at being productive. I've been starting with little things, like getting dressed and ready for the day in the morning rather than the afternoon, simply because it's good for my psyche, and finding a chore to do around the house so that they don't all pile up on me and make me feel unorganized. I'm determined to do something about this, and I know it won't come overnight. This is really a lifelong pursuit, but I hope to have made enough progress in the next few years that my son won't learn to be lazy from me. I want so much to be a good example for him, and to teach him diligence, but I know that in order to do so, I must be diligent myself.

So there. That's random, and long, but it's something personal about myself, and who doesn't find a person's deepest character flaws interesting?? ;)

5) I am a self-proclaimed closet nerd (who I suppose is coming out of the closet, given the public nature of this blog...ha.) I make a fool of myself dancing and singing along to music in my car, I enjoy spending my time reading and doing crafts that apparently only old people do, like cross-stitching, I couldn't tell you the first thing about what is fashionable to wear these days, I most often don't wear make-up because it's too much work when I don't think I look that bad, I feel extremely awkward on the phone with people and say things at the wrong time feeling like a moron and hanging up feeling convinced the person on the other line thought so too, even if they're a close friend, I actually really enjoy a good fantasy novel as long as it's not too wordy or cliche, I enjoy playing board games more than video games, I subconsciously dance along whenever Matt sings a song or taps out a beat, I make faces at myself in the mirror when no-one's looking, sometimes I repeat conversations aloud when I think I'm alone just to try to remember how I might have sounded to the other person when I said what I said, and (trust me, this is a big confession) when Matt got the stuff to sell Dungeons and Dragons and brought it home to test it out, I played too and actually really enjoyed it. I find role-playing games fun, even if I'm terrible at them because I feel too silly pretending to be anyone other than myself. To me it's just one big board game though.

So yes, big closet nerd. I think most people knew I was a nerd to begin with (let's face it, I've never been popular. In fact, I was the kid who got made fun of by the popular kids, and could therefore be termed the LEAST popular and the biggest nerd) but I bet it was quite the revelation, realizing I'm an even BIGGER nerd than you ever thought! You know what though? While in highschool I had a hard time with nerd-status, but I've since wised up. I don't think it's such a big deal, and I like who I am, so what do I care if I don't have someone's social approval? At least, I tell myself that most of the time, and try to believe it 100%, but who doesn't wanted to be universally accepted?

6) I'm starting to run out of random things, let alone interesting things about myself, so I'll just revert to silly things I've done in the past, shortening up each thing or else you're not going to want to read any more of my long long posts.

I lived up north for the summer between grades 12 and OAC, working at an icecream store called 3 Cows and a Cone. The summer was a complete bust because my boyfriend worked at the same place and the owner decided to schedule us on alternating shifts, so I'd work 10-4 and he'd work 4-10. I didn't save money because I was terrible at saving then, and I came home from the summer convinced that my boyfriend of 1 year was going to dump me the second he got to university. I mean, the guy practically asked for permission to do so, saying that if I were to go away to university and meet someone great, he would want me to "go for it" and he'd totally understand...hint hint...Yeah. The guy totally expected me to say, "yeah, I feel the same way!" Not happening. Then when I dumped him a month later he had the audacity to say it was mutual! Coward. So what a dumb summer!

BUT the icecream store was actually really fun and had SO many flavours. My favourites were peaches and cream, turtles, something to do with pecans, and banana chocolate frozen yogurt.

I still have family up there who Matthew and I are going to go up and visit this summer, and I totally plan on dragging Matthew around to my old haunts. 3 Cows and a Cone, swimming off the docks downtown (or maybe just walking along them, given we'll have a 6-month-old with us!), the best poutine on the island (purchased from the competing icecream store) hiking at the Cup and Saucer, fresh fish and chips, and swimming at Low Island. I have some pretty fun memories of being up north with friends, and doing some crazy stupid things that I'd never do now, like jumping off the bridge, or walking across the ice at Low Island to see the ruins on the other side. I'm glad my mom didn't know about those things until it was too late to punish me for them.

7) As uninspired as this 7th random thing about me will be, I'm going to tell you about my dream house, because I'm otherwise out of things to say.

I dream of living in an old house of unspecified size. There must a walk-up attic, two staircases going from the main floor to the second floor, bay windows, a library with a fireplace and big comfy chairs in it, and a large kitchen with an island that you can eat at. I have a few dream libraries, one being the one from Beauty and the Beast (SO unattainable) the one from Casper, and the one from My Fair Lady. That ones isn't so unattainable, and it's fun because it has a second floor and a spiral staircase. Which spiral staircase wouldn't count as one of the two staircases from upstairs to downstairs. OH and there must be a secret room or passageway somewhere, very Nancy Drew style. I want a walk-in closet with a window in it, and I want the house to be surrounded by an orchard, so that I can revel in the blossoms in springtime.

I'm pretty sure my dream house doesn't exist, because it's combining houses I've seen in movies and in real life throughout the years, but I'll completely settle for building said dream house instead of finding it. Especially because I care about the outside of the house too. Oh, and in the dream house there must be lovable nooks and crannies, like a landing with a bay window and bench seat half-way up the stairs, or shelves built into the wall, or laundry chutes or dumb waiters. Except the last two can be dangerous with kids.

Well folks, there you have it. 7 random things about me, and probably a whole lot of extra junk and thoughts that you weren't anticipating or wanting. How nice for you! ;) I am a teeny bit sorry if I bored you, but only a teeny bit because, hey, it's my blog.

Aaaaaaaaand now for my own Beautiful Blogger awards!

This is tough because there are so many blogs that I read where the people don't even know I exist, so how on earth am I supposed to give them an award? I think I won't worry about it, and I'll just confer the award while referring you to their awesome blogs. Because even if they don't know I exist, I think other people should know they exist, I love them that much.

So, without further adieu, here they are:

1) Confessions of a Kin Major - okay so Red knows I exist, but I love her blog! She's so open about her fitness goals and the obstacles she faces while working all the while to get in shape. I admire her diligence (given my lack of it) and how she'll be honest with herself when she feels she needs to change (even if I think she's too hard on herself a lot of the time!)

2) The R House - I've mentioned this blog before, and I'm 99.9% sure she's not aware of me given that I don't comment very often, but I love reading this blog. Lindsey has been through the ringer with infertility and adoption and I admire her courage and wisdom throughout it all. She's an amazing adoption advocate and a very devoted mother, not to mention a clever and witty writer.

3) Kyla Roma - I found this blog through another blog's recommendation, and I really enjoy reading it. Kyla is very industrious and quite dedicated to living a quiet life doing fun things like make jam and have moustache parties with her friends. It's definitely a refreshing read.

4) Stefanie Jinelle's Journey - Stefanie is a proud birthmother who placed her baby for adoption 5 months ago. She's great at talking through her feelings and telling it like it is, and I really appreciate that (even though sometimes I'm not very good at it myself.)

5) Xbox 4 NappyRash - I'm still trying to figure this blog out, but I really love reading it. It is pregnancy from the perspective of the dad, and man, this guy can write. Mostly he throws a comedic spin on everything that his wife has to experience, but recently his daughter was born and his eloquence on the matter is heart-melting. I like to read just to see what he'll say next, and I'm never disappointed (though sometimes quite confused) by his posts.

6) Heather Now - This blog belongs to my sister-in-law's sister-in-law, and it's a great read. I love the crafts she does with her girls, and I'm jealous of her photography skills when it comes to these crafts and posting the results. She also charges for her photography services and posts sample photos of her sessions on the blog, so it's fun to look at and get ideas.

7) Enjoying the Small Things - This blog is a very very recent find. I was referred to it by my sister-in-law who sent an email out to her friends and family referring them to this woman's birth story, which truly is the most amazing thing to me. She gave birth to a baby girl about a week before I had Elijah, and they didn't know until she delivered that their girl has Down Syndrome. She had a really difficult time at first with this diagnosis, as she wrote about in the birth story (found here) but is amazingly resilient and optimistic (helped, of course, by her how beautiful her new little baby is, and how sweet her 2-year old girl is.) I want to be like her when I grow up. ;)

So there you have it. I think of all those only 2 know I exist, but if you were to just go there and check them out, I'm positive you won't be disappointed.

And now, my friends, I simply must finish this post. It has taken me forever (well over the 2 hours I usually have of free time in a day!) I started this morning around 10am, and I've been doing it on and off all day. It's now 3:15 and I need to have a belated lunch before my little boy wakes up and demands his own belated lunch, or early dinner.

Hopefully I'll have time to post again soon, but in light of my trying to be diligent and do more worthwhile things, please don't be surprised if it's another week or so before I post. I need to pull out that sewing machine, take some pictures of Elijah, and continue working on my riveting new book, so I might be a little busy! I hope you have an excellent week though, and if you're anywhere in Ontario, I hope you enjoy the big snowstorm that is coming our way tomorrow...I know I'm going to!

And maybe you should sleep...

I know, I know. You're probably thinking that I've dropped off the face of the planet, or been killed in some freak avalanche. At times I would agree with you. You know, the whole in-another-world thing, or feeling buried by lots of snow and completely unable to move. But I'm feeling less and less like that and life is (dare I say it?) starting to feel normal again. But not completely normal, just, normal with a baby. I'm not quite there yet, but I'm told it takes 5-6 weeks, and we're at 4 tomorrow, so I've got time.

I'm starting to figure out what to expect from my day, and how much I can reasonably hope to accomplish. I'm figuring out how to take naps and I even took my first shower with no-one else home the other day. I'm happy to say that Eli slept through the whole thing and I wasn't too traumatized by the experience to never want to try again.

Here's a problem I've encountered though: I want to do too many things. That may sound like a no-brainer statement, but before I had Elijah I didn't want to do anything. And I mean ANYthing. Movies were boring. Reading had lost its appeal. Piano was a chore, cross-stitching was a pain, socializing was for cheerful people, and cooking was right out. The only thing I felt like doing was housework, because it made me feel like I had some control and that things were ready-ish for the advent of babydom.

Now that Elijah's here, my desire to do things other than have a baby has returned, mostly because my ability to do them has decreased. I was so bored before he came, and now I'm once more grateful for the time I have to myself to do whatever I want. It's probably because I only get a couple hours like that in a day.

So NOW I'm having a really hard time managing to do all of the things I was capable of doing in a day before being a mommy. I want to read my new book, I want to work on my Christmas stocking cross-stitches, not to mention the three new patterns I have to work on, I want to make Matthew dinner (isn't that funny? I WANT to do it!) I want to attempt newborn photos of Eli, I want to write in my journal, I want to learn a new song on the piano, I want to do laundry, write thank-you cards, watch movies, see friends, learn to sew, learn to thread my new sewing machine (which I haven't touched since the day I bought it...the day before Eli was born), and, last but not least, I want to write a blog post every now and then.

But when you only have 2 hours in a day of time to yourself, there are obviously many things that get cut from that list of things to do.

Honestly, it's been pretty easy to cut out frequent blog posts, especially when I dedicate all sorts of time to a post that gets interrupted by a hungry baby, and then never finished, making me feel like my me-time was wasted and could have been spent doing something that makes me feel better than a job undone. Like sleeping. How frustrating when I don't even manage to get a post up, and could have spent that time sleeping or showering.

So I'm sorry, I really really am, but blogging has (unsurprisingly) been put on a bit of a back-burner lately. I'm still reading blogs, though, and checking in here for comments (but being horrible at responding to them...I put a lot of time into my comments, and they are often like blog posts in and of themselves!)

AAAH even as I read this it is to the sounds of Matthew trying to soothe Elijah when I should probably stop being a negligent mother and feed him already. Not that I'm starving him, he ate an hour ago, but still.

And there are so many things I want to post on! Tomorrow's task will be dedicated to thanking MMC for the blog award she gave me (THANKS!) and paying it forward. I think it deserves its own post, so if I don't get it up tomorrow, keep checking in. I WILL write that post.

For now, I'm going to stick with an update that will most likely be brief (to my standards...haha) but if Eli manages to get his tired self to sleep with the help of his soother and daddy, then it'll be a teeny bit longer.

So. Having a newborn is all kinds of fun! Elijah is getting cuter and cuter and cuter! He's filling out, getting chubby cheeks, and displaying a bit of a personality.

He started smiling at us a week ago, and cooing too, which I was thrilled about to begin with but all the more so when my midwife was impressed by it. Apparently babies don't normally coo until 4-6 weeks, and my clever boy started at 3.

He really likes his diaper being changed, and is most likely to coo and smile at us then as he pins his arms down, throws out his chest, and squirms delightedly. He also loves baths and just sits there kicking his legs in the water. He cries when he has to get out, but that's probably because of the cold.

He likes sleeping in his rocking chair that vibrates, and he sleeps the longest and most soundly in it. I hate to admit it, but we've totally resorted to letting him sleep in it at night just to maintain our sanity. I have a play-yard that I try to get him to sleep in but to no avail. That rocker has pretty much saved me these last few nights. Take last night, for instance. He "slept" in the play-yard beside me from 11 to 2:30. I say "slept" because he fussed almost the entire time. I got two 1/2 hour naps in there where I managed to slip into slumber because he was quiet for that small period of time. the rest of the time he slept noisily, which involved grunting and squealing every so often for minutes at a time, then staying quiet for a while, then needing his soother, then spitting it out and being fine, then grunting some more. And all of this with his eyes shut, so mostly I just let him grunt, but that doesn't mean I slept at all, even it that's what he was doing. So then I fed him at 2:30-3, and put him in the rocker for the remainder of the night, and he slept soundly until 6:40, no fuss, no nothing. Just sweet, blissful sleep. So today at Babies 'R' Us I bought a book on healthy sleep for babies, adding one more thing to my list of things to do. :D

Oh, and just to prove my point, I just had to stop writing this to feed Eli for the 4th time in 3 1/2 hours. Tears very nearly ensued, I felt sure this post would once again only make it to the draft folder, I felt frustrated and quite sure that life was working against me. But Matthew promised to look after Elijah once I had satisfied his (meaning Elijah's) demanding appetite, and here I am, trying once more to finish the impossible-to-finish-update-post! Take that universe.

Not that I have long though...my battery is about to die.

Hmm...what else?

My recovery is going well, though I don't feel 100% yet. I squated the other day and hurt for a few days afterwards, and I feel like my muscles are kindof shot still. Oh, and Kegel exercises are not just for keeping your pee in after the baby is born. Seriously, if I knew how much those muscles would hurt every time I go to the bathroom, I'd have been doing exercises a lot sooner. People try to remind me of what a traumatic thing my body experienced by delivering Eli, but it's not sinking in. I personally think that being pregnant would have been a bigger thing for my body than labour and delivery, but that's not the impression I'm getting from other people. I guess people do die in childbirth, so I see what they mean. Let's just be glad I didn't die!

Oh, now I'm being dramatic. I'm doing better than just not being dead, I'm just not 100% and I really thought I would be by, like, 2 weeks post-partum, not to mention 4. I'm concerned that I won't be better by 6 weeks when the midwives discharge me. Who will I call with my problems then? Also, this area where there was stitches before is hurting again and stinging, so I'm worried something opened back up. **sigh** I guess I don't deal well with the stinging pain of stitches. I'm more of a bone-pain kinda girl.

Oh, here's something good and progressive! So you might have noticed in earlier pictures of Elijah that there was a sizeable bump on his head. This was caused either by being engaged crooked for a long time, or by hitting my cervix crooked throughout labour each time I had a contraction. Either way, it's fluid from blood vessels under the surface of the skin, against the skull. It's not a big deal mostly, it should go away, but it's still something worth seeing a pediatrician about. So see a pediatrician we did. Since then (last week) it's gone down remarkably in size and is almost gone, but if it doesn't go away entirely soon then the fluid will harden and turn into bone, I guess from the calcium that is in blood. It'll leave a bump on his skull which they'd then have to file down if it's too big. So I'm glad that it's almost gone. I'll do a comparison shot another day.

The pediatrician also noticed Eli's bum dimple. See, Elijah was born with a sacral dimple, which in most cases is just cute and looks like a second little bum hole. Weird, but no problem. Then there are the very few cases where it is indicative of something more serious, like a minor case of spina bifida. So begin freak-out. We're going for an ultrasound of the area to make sure it's not. I was pretty upset about this until I realized that it's likely not that, and that even if it is it's the least severe kind, which a lot of people don't even realize they have because it affects them not at all. Eli is strong and healthy, has that cute standing/walking instinct that babies have, kicks his legs lots, AND you can see the bottom of the hole, so it's probably no big deal. But still. I mean, really, how much do you really want to think about such things? So bummer. No pun intended.

And I think I'm going to have to cut this short right here. Partly because I can't think of anything else to write about, and partly because the Our Lady Peace song I'm listening to just said, "And maybe you should sleep..." and then I realized how tired I am and that my battery is about to die, and my son is sleeping and I'm wasting good rest time. PHEW. How was that for a run-on sentence? And there's the OLP line again suggesting that I sleep. I'm going to listen.

And I'm going to try to post some more tomorrow, so check in!

Fears

Remember in highschool when people were big on random facts about themselves that apparently identified who you really are? When you were too young to really understand that a person is so much more than the random bits of how their personality is expressed?

I remember one of the things that people wanted to know was what your biggest fear was. And weren't the answers just ridiculous? Spiders, sharks, heights, public speaking, etc. Okay, so ridiculous might be a little unfair. I know that these fears are very real to some people. But then, sometimes people would say they were afraid of something simply because everyone had a fear, and they, therefore, had to as well. Kind of like how I always said I was Anglican simply because my parents were married in an Anglican building, and my first two siblings were christened or baptized Anglican as babies.

My fear was stairs with no backs to them. See what I means about ridiculous? But I still think someone grabbing your ankles through the stairs is way creepy.

So my point is that we thought we knew what our fears were. I have long since realized that there are bigger things to worry about than stairs with no backs to them.

Now, that being said, I can also remember a wise friend who once told me that a perfect man fears nothing. What is death by spider to someone who is confident that they will be resurrected again?

But most of us aren't perfect, or at least I know I certainly am not, so I have many fears that I feel are legit, or at least more legit than the invented fears of highschool. Sometimes I have a hard time not living by these fears, and letting them influence my happiness.

So what is this great fear of mine, that often rules my life and keeps me up at night? I'm sure it's the same as many of your fears. It's that I'll lose someone I love. And not just anyone. I fear that I'll lose Matthew and have to go on living without him by my side.

I'm sure there will be people who read this who think I'm completely pathetic, and I'll be the first to admit my dependence on my husband. I'd say I can't imagine life without him, but I can, and it scares me. Like, a lot. I try really hard to ignore my fears and remind myself that very few people have to experience the loss of a spouse. It's not common, and what's more, it's unproductive, living by such fear, when it affects life now and makes it anything less than completely happy.

So I tell myself these things, maintain my sanity, and cry when I have to be separated from Matt for even a night. Then I go and enjoy myself, come home the next day, and rejoice when I see Matt again and he gives me a big big hug.

But life is different now, and I have someone else to think about. It makes my fear...bigger.

Look at this little face.

I love him so much that it amazes me. I feel like for the first time I understand the concept of loving someone so much it hurts, because right alongside the love I have for him is the fear of losing him. Just when I think, "I love him so much and I can't believe he is mine," the thought crops up that he may not always be around and could I handle losing someone I love so much?

It's astonishing how debilitating fear can be. One thing that I have learned over the last couple weeks is how I need to let go of my fears and trust Heavenly Father. I don't know what the future holds. Maybe it DOES hold the loss of my beloved husband or son. But is that any reason to live now as if it will happen? No. Or at least, not entirely. I still tell Matthew I love him so often that I worry he'll get sick of hearing it, but he hasn't yet. I give him lots of hugs and kisses, and try to tell him all the time how much I appreciate him. I don't let us part in anger or frustration (most of the time...sometimes I'm pretty stubborn though. And when I am stubborn, I'm usually on my cell phone minutes later apologizing. Because it's usually my fault. Ha.)

But I'm trying oh so hard to live by faith and not fear, because I'm just plain sick and tired of being scared and paranoid. And you know what? I have been blessed with so many things to make me happy and rejoice, so I'm going to do just that.

Excuse me while I go feed my hungry little boy and spend some quiet time with my big boy.

The worst day yet

Things with Elijah had been going so well. Me? Not so much. But still, SO well with Eli. I might have known it was too good to last! It was like we were 4-year olds excited to have a new best friend, until we had our first big fight. We're over it now, but that first little squabble still left its battle wounds.

What was the problem? Breastfeeding of course. The one thing I thought I had down. Here's how it went.

At first it sucked and was really painful. Then I figured it out. We were getting along swimmingly until my milk came in. Then we had an issue because, heaven forbid, I had TOO MUCH. Like more than normal too much. It hurt a lot and we had to resort to some crazy memorable nursing positions (eg-Eli over my shoulder) to clear some of the milk and avoid Crisis Mastitis. Throughout it all though, Eli's latch was great, he hardly dropped any weight and gained it all back. He was back to his birthweight less than a week after he was born. It didn't hurt for me any more, and once the engorgement was no longer an issue, we'd be great, right? WRONG!

See, Elijah was filling up pretty well and doing this awesome thing where he'd sleep 3-3.5 hours between feedings. It made sleep at night for me really nice and not that different from before he was born. All seemed to be going right, and Matthew and I had even started commenting on how life was starting to feel strangely normal. HA.

Then yesterday I had a home visit from one of my midwives, and she weighed Eli. He had been 9lb 8oz 6 days before, so he needed to be 9lb 14oz to satisfy her. I didn't think that'd be a problem because he had always exceeded the expected weight gain (we were just such pros at breastfeeding.) But it wasn't to be. He was only 9lb 10oz, and all of a sudden we were talking about supply issues.

SUPPLY ISSUES. Yes, apparently it's possible to go from having too much for 3 babies to not enough for 1. I kept it together pretty well when she was here and then went downstairs to Matt to cry. Aaaaaaaand begin the bad day.

I was basically told to feed all the time, or as often as he could possibly want to, and do breast compressions at the same time. Neither the midwife nor I could possibly have realized what that would mean for yesterday though.

Elijah would feed for 5 minutes. MAYBE 10 at best. Then he'd fall asleep before he was done. He'd sleep for 5-10 minutes, wake up content (the content bit would last another 10 minutes) and then he'd randomly lose it because he was hungry, tired and wanted to be soothed. So he'd eat again, but be so tired that it'd put him to sleep. Repeat this cycle for a good 6 hours, throw in a whole lot of tired tears from me, and you have my afternoon. The poor little guy didn't sleep for more than 30 minutes at one time the entire day.

By 6pm I felt like a broken woman. I know that sounds dramatic. It's because it totally was. I was a mess, saying that I'm a failure and can't even provide him with the sustenance that he needs, he must be so fussy because he's starving, we're going to have to resort to formula and he's not even 2 weeks old, blah blah blah. I called the midwife on call and she assured me I was not a failure, I was doing a great job, keep up the good work, it gets easier, normal to go through this, don't worry, etc, etc. It helped so much, and made me glad I have midwives. Ironically, it was the same midwife who was there when I was in labour. So strange. I still like her a lot though.

The evening got a little better because he'd feed at 8, fuss/sleep until 9, then do it again until 10, and then 11. I was afraid to go to bed, because I didn't want to be woken up constantly to deal with that, but he was actually pretty good throughout the night.

This morning wasn't too bad, and I was hopeful that he'd actually have gained the target ounce since yesterday with all the drama and difficulty.

My midwife came by at 12, weighed him, and wouldn't you know it, the little stinker had put on 4 ounces! Mind you, he had just fed, but that was so beyond excellent that I felt like laughing. Maybe not a "haha, that's funny" laugh, but more of a "hahahaha, I'm going crazy and more than a little hysterical, hey, throw me that straight-jacket..." kind of laugh. But still, laughing is good.

And now he's sleeping. He slept this morning for 45 minutes, and I can already feel that today is a better day.

So I think we're okay. The mw said that my supply seems to be fine, that he's probably going through a growth spurt (they do that at 2 weeks apparently), and cluster feeding at the same time. If there was a problem with my supply, he was fixing it for me. **sigh** I just feel emotionally and physically drained from all of the...excitement for lack of a better word.

And I know that Jonah days come to everyone, but do they have to hit you so hard and suddenly? Really. I wanna know.

P.S. I just read the word "probed" on another blog, and my mind actually processed it as "pro-bed" until the rest of the sentence didn't make sense. Then I thought, "What in the world is pro-bed? Some form of bedrest?!" and then it clicked. Maybe I need to get my IQ checked along with the whole infection thing.

A much needed update

I'm sure this comes as a surprise to no-one, but W-O-W things really change when you have a baby! I completely underestimated how much time would be consumed by this little munchkin.

There are so many things I've started to do and haven't finished this last week and a bit. In fact, the only things I've managed to do fully are feeding, showering, and...huh. I guess that's it. I started a blog post the other day and it's now outdated, I wrote in my journal for a bit, but only managed to get down 1/4 of my birth story, I've started filling in information in Eli's baby book but have put it down repeatedly, the laundry is washed but is sitting in baskets in the spare room, recent thank-you cards are half-done, and I won't even begin to tell you how many prayers have been cut short by a baby spitting up all over me.

Like I said, I've managed to feed Elijah, and keep myself pretty clean, and right now I think that's good enough. I guess those are my priorities, because you always make time to do the things that are most important to you.

I've heard of people who go weeks without showering regularly, or brushing their teeth, etc, and I totally get that. But for me, I crave the cleanliness because it makes me feel human and not like a machine.

Good days for me consist of feeding, getting dressed and prettied up (sans make-up, because that's one thing that is not a priority to me) doing one chore around the house, getting a nap in, and spending some time with Matthew. I feel pretty great on those days, but I still find the time passes too quickly.

Then there are the days where it's already 4pm and too late for a nap, and all I've done is fed and comforted my little boy and ate some food. They aren't bad days, they're just...days. I don't know what else to call them, because it feels like I just go into survival mode on those days.

All in all, though, having a newborn has not been nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. He sleeps for 3-4 hour chunks throughout the night, and getting up with him has not been a big issue yet. Sometimes I'm up for over an hour, but then Matthew takes him around 8am and lets me sleep another hour or two, and all is well. I don't know what I'll do this next week when Matt goes back to work, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

No, Elijah has not given me a bad taste in my mouth where newborns are concerned, and he's not even a perfect baby. He has gas issues (so we think) and has a hard time burping, and then 10-20 minutes later he has the hiccups and starts crying until he's spit up 3-4 times, and then he's fine. It makes him falling asleep after a feeding a little difficult, but we're adjusting. We kindof think we've been dealt a fussy (though thankfully not colicky) baby, but seeing as we've never had a baby before, we really don't know the difference, and don't mind it.

This might seem random, but I think I'm going to do the rest of this entry in point-form because then I can stop at any point I please and manage to get a post up already!

So here it goes.

-the surprising thing to me has been my own recovery. 11 days later and I'm still having troubles.

-my first visit out of the house was to go to a walk-in clinic on Friday. Long story short, I woke up and almost fainted, had a fever of 102 (38.85) hot-cold flashes and a headache. Was pretty sure I had mastitis, although only the infection-symptoms gave it away. Had to leave Elijah at home for fear of him catching something at the clinic. Was the worst hour, knowing he was so far away (a whopping 6 minute drive.) Doctor at the clinic thought my stitches were infected and that I didn't have mastitis. Gave me antibiotics. Midwife came by to check out and remove stitches, said they DON'T look infected, but who knows, I clearly had an infection, antibiotics could only help, yadda yadda yadda. Feeling 100 times better now, pretty sure it's a uterine infection, will be gone in 10 days, not too worried. Just a little pained.

-having a hard time with the muscles in my upper legs and bum area. Feels like I've been sitting too long, makes sitting w/o leaning forwards uncomfortable, standing gets tiring, so only laying down helps.

-stitches were hurting a heck of a lot (another midwife estimated 10 stitches, so there, now you know the rough number), had to put polysporin on them to go to the bathroom, it's working so I'm happy.

-engorgement sucks. Enough said. Waiting for the 2-week mark.

-Eli sleeps in bed with us. That started the first night we were home. He wakes up and gets fussy, and if we catch it before he's fully awake he'll go back to sleep quickly. If we let it go too long, he really wakes himself up and then I'm up 4-5 times a night feeding him to soothe him back to sleep. As it is, I've only been getting up 1-2 times throughout the night, so pretty nice. I also love snuggling up to him when I feel him move beside me. Especially when I've had a bad dream.

-had my first bad dream about Eli last night. He was spitting up my food undigested (as in, what I ate, not what he ate. Weird.) I mentioned it in passing to a doctor named Dr. Blitz (don't ask, I don't know) and she started running. I chased her wanting to know her opinion, but I realized that she didn't want to talk to me because she didn't want to tell me the bad news. Eli was going to die, and although he looked perfect and healthy at the time, he would slowly break down, be hooked up to tubes, and leave us. I woke up to a beautifully healthy baby who made all right in the world. And if I ever meet a Dr. Blitz, I'll be the one running.

-We took our first venture out of the house together yesterday. I woke up in the morning needing to get away from the house so we went to Matt's parents, ate their food for dinner, and hung out with Aaron, Rachelle, Rob and Kira. It was so nice and normal-feeling that it surprised me. It was also some practice for me with breast-feeding around other people without de-robing. I'm realizing I need many nursing shirts and bras or else life will be really difficult for a while.

-I had an epiphany yesterday. It was this. Life must become normal eventually, and I'm the only one who can make it so. The longer I sit around not trying to adjust, the longer it'll (obviously) take to adjust. So I've been attempting to bring some normalcy into my life, in little spurts. For instance, yesterday I wore jeans for the first time since labour. Until then it had been track pants and loose shirts. More comfy, but more grubby. Also, the whole leaving the house thing. That was a big step. Today it was church for the first time (more to come.) I haven't decided on what tomorrow's normal thing will be. Maybe an organized family home evening for our little family (SO excited!) Also, this week I'm going to go visiting teaching. Just for a one-hour appointment, but I'm going to leave Elijah at home with Matt, and that's a big deal for me. Oh, and I accepted an invitation for Matt, Elijah and I to go over to a friend's for dinner next Sunday, which is something only normal people do. I feel pretty good at my mock-normalcy.

-church today was actually fun. Isn't that strange? I had been dreading it a bit, but the attention on me is gone now, and people just want to fawn over my little baby and how beautiful he is, and I can't help but agree. I totally don't mind talking with all and sundry about my little miracle, hence the fun-ness. Why not soak it up while it's still new and exciting? I'm told that life gets a little more difficult once the novelty has worn off, so I might as enjoy this while it lasts. At the same time, I think it'll be nice when Elijah is an established fact because then I won't feel like everyone is looking at me. Everyone is just looking at Elijah, but to do so they must look at me too, and that makes me a little paranoid. I just don't like being the centre of attention like that. Also, no-one asked to hold him which I had been worried about with it being flu-season and so many people shaking hands and so on, so yay. And besides, I wanted to hold him. :)

-Matt had the greatest time walking into church today. He is so proud of Elijah and wanted to show him off to everyone. He wanted to keep him with him all the time today, but I had to say no, because he'd have been too distracting in Primary when the sisters left and the Young Men took over for the last hour today. Matthew actually pouted a little, it was so cute.

-I have to say, I love pregnancy weight. At least, water-retaining pregnancy weight. It's so easy to lose pregnancy water retention. You just pee it out a few days later! Who knew it could be so easy? I'm beyond excited because my shoes fit again, so there goes the whole, "you'll go up a shoe-size permanently" thing. I'm ecstatic, because I have so many cute little shoes that I didn't want to say good-bye to. My rings almost fit too, but I might have to resize them after all because the little indentation at the bottom of my ring finger is gone, and that's what made them fit comfortably. Sad.

-my ankles are no longer huge. They're so much scrawnier than I remembered, and they actually look funny to me now, like I don't recognize them. It's been 4 months after all.

-we're pretty sure Eli is a G- baby and takes after Matthew a good deal. He looks a lot like this one baby picture of Matt, but I still have yet to pull out my own baby photos, so we could be surprised in the end. One friend of ours thinks that Matt and I look alike, because he can see both of us in Eli. I have a hard time seeing either of us in him, he's just Elijah to me. Well, he's kind of still 'Baby' to me.

-that's another thing. When will I really identify him as Elijah? He doesn't necessarily look like an Elijah, but I definitely felt that that should be his name. Will he grow into it? Is it my own perspective? Does any baby really look like an anything? Or at least anything other than a baby? I see Elijah and I think, "my little man," "handsome boy," "sad face!" or "oh my darling," but I have yet to think, "Elijah" when I look at him. I'm working on saying his name a lot more so that I attach it to him.

-he's starting to lose his newborn-ness. He's still a newborn, but that fresh-out-of the-womb look is giving way to the infant look and he looks different than his newborn self, like when he was getting weighed.

-I'm so happy to have Eli here, but there are parts of me that really miss being pregnant. I was more mobile when I was pregnant, for one thing (which seems so backwards to me. I thought life would be easier with a baby in my arms than in my tummy, but so far, that's not quite true.) I feel things in my stomach and my mind still thinks, "awwh, there's my little kicker!" only to remember that he's not there, and that it really is digestion. Then yesterday I was walking away from the mall singing along to the song that was playing and I realized all of a sudden that Eli wasn't inside of me to hear it, that he was sitting some 100 meters away in the car with Matthew, and that he existed outside of me. My actions and dietary choices still affect him somewhat, but he doesn't need me so much now.

-I've been thinking through my labour and delivery experience, and I've come to a conclusion. Hopefully I won't be repetitive in saying this, but I feel a little gypped. On the one hand, I'm so glad I got the epidural because it was truly heavenly. On the other hand, I did not even remotely have the experience I had anticipated, and it wasn't because of powers beyond my control. I know part of me chose to take a different route, but I also know that my midwife was not what I had expected in labour.

Midwives, to me, should be encouraging, resourceful and positive. They should also consider your birth plan and not let you make decisions on a whim when you're in a heck of a lot of pain. They should talk you through things.

My midwife never even questioned my decision to have an epidural though she knew of my scruples with it beforehand. She never suggested more comfortable labour positions, taking another hot shower (which had worked...) using the birthing pool at the hospital before I got the epi, having Matthew massage my back when it got bad, reminding me of why it hurt and what the outcome of such pain was (because honestly, it was so hard in the moment to remember that there was more to life than pain) and so on. At 11am when I got the epidural, I was already 7cm, and I had progressed from 3-4 to 7 in a matter of 4 1/2 hours, which I know is great. And yet my midwife never suggested to keep going a little longer and stick it out which I know I could have done, considering how I had waited 3 1/2 hours for the epidural.

So there you have it. I felt very left to my own devices and so the epidural and the switch to nurses was wonderful, and therefore not regrettable. Such is life. Although someone mentioned today to write a letter to the midwife practice and I think I will. Not a malicious one or anything, but a truthful, concerned one. Because I'd still have midwives again, but I'd want it to go differently.

-some of my favourite things about Eli: the way he smiles in his sleep after nursing, how cute his sneezes are (they sound like, "hep-tew"!), how you always know when he has pooped because it sounds like his diaper exploded (can't wait for that bomb to go off in the middle of a quiet chapel) how he sucks my arm when he's hungry and not quite there yet, how when he sleeps beside Matt and I he always turns his upper body so that it's facing me. Sometimes I worry he'll end up rolling over, he's turned himself so much. I love it.

-Elijah has already gained back his birthweight and then some. He pretty much had by the time he was a week old. No problems for him with nursing!

And...here are some photos!

Sleepy baby

Here's one with his eyes open

I love my little boy

I had a couple more photos to post, but my modem is on the fritz, the internet is super slow, and I'm just going to get this post up before everything shuts down again. Okay? Okay. :D