not the week I'd imagined

This week was supposed to have been celebratory. Thursday we were supposed to go for our 10 week prenatal appointment. We were supposed to have an ultrasound and meet with our midwife. We were supposed to focus on happy baby planning. None of those things happened this week. Instead, I went in on Monday for an early ultrasound and found out I'd had a miscarriage. Instead I spend Wednesday having a D&C and sleeping it off.

So tonight instead of cooing over a grainy ultrasound picture and looking forward, I am drinking tea and feeling empty. My planning brain is no longer dreaming of double strollers and tiny onsies. Instead it is blankly staring into the unknown.

I feel differently that I thought I'd feel. I thought I would feel devastated as though I'd lost a child. I don't. I feel a diffuse sense of sadness and glum that I just can't shake. I feel like a hope and a dream died. I think I knew for the last few weeks that something wasn't right. I had been desperately hoping my heart was wrong. But it wasn't. When the doctor showed me the ultrasound image where there should have been a prune sized baby with heart thumping and there was only a still lentil sized blob, I wasn't surprised. It was as though I was suddenly able to acknowledge the grief that had been sitting like a weight in my chest that I'd been trying to blame on paranoia and to ignore.

I'm not fully sure what dealing with this will look like. I find myself tearing up at weird times and snapping at Jim for crazy reasons. But at least we can start to move forward.

phew

As I sit down to type this, I realize that my last post was quite some time ago. I guess that is testament to just how crazy these first few weeks of back-to-school have been. But we have survived and I think (and hope) are emerging into a better place where there is a little more breathing room and a little less running around like a chicken with my head cut off.

Jonathan has finally adjusted to preschool this year. It took him a solid week and a half of crying "most of the morning" before he had a good day with only a few tears when Daddy dropped him off. Those first days were rough on us all. When Jim would get out of the car to drop him off he would start to cry and say "home"; when I would pick him up and he would have dried salt crusted on his cheeks and neck from tears. But now that he realizes this is the routine, he is into it and excited to be at school. Though I think he is still holding onto some residual frustration about me abandoning him (based on how his reactions to me have changed and the frequency of his tantrums).

In the mean time, Jonathan's vocabulary has been continuing to expand like crazy. He has figured out that people besides Mama and Dada have names- and is eagerly learning (so far he's got "Gamma" "UncBri" "Guinee"). He has also started to learn his numbers (the math teacher in me rejoices...). He knows 1 and 2 and loves labeling how many of something there is.

I continue to be amazed at how quickly he is turning into a little boy right in front of us. He is so much fun and so much fun to interact with!!

dipping

Jonathan is going through a phase where he LOVES to dip food in, well, anything. It started with graham crackers in milk (my personal favorite), but now he insists on dipping his waffles in his yoghurt at breakfast. Two nights ago at dinner he kept picking things up and saying "dip?". When he finally realized there was going to be no dipping, he opted to get down and not eat dinner- not a single bite. So last night, I wised up and served pasta with the sauce on the side- for dipping. Huge hit. He even dipped his grapes in spaghetti sauce (he seemed to think it tasted great). Any suggestions out there for healthy, low prep dipping sauces? I get the feeling I'm going to need to have some ideas on hand for the next few weeks at least!

1st Week Back

So this was our first week back in the full swing of things. Me at work (with students), Jonathan at preschool, and Jim and I not doing crazy tag-team parenting. And it was a rough week- particularly for Jonathan. Every day on his preschool summary sheet there is some comment to the effect of "Jonathan is still tearful most of the morning". I know my kiddo, and he doesn't do 'tearful'; he does 'wailing sobs' and he does 'fall on the floor screaming', but passively 'tearful' I find hard to believe. Jim said as he started crying as they walked into the building to bring him to school today. By this afternoon when I came home, he had started to loose his voice (I can only assume because of screaming so much). Poor little guy. It is a big transition after being at home all summer- new teachers, new classroom, sleeping on a cot instead of a crib, lots of other screaming kiddos. I wish I had a way to soften the transition. Thankfully it is Friday and so he has two days to regroup at home before back to the grind on Monday.

Hi!

One of Jonathan's recent word acquisitions is "Hi". He says it with incredible enthusiasm in his voice and this cute little floppy-wristed wave. And as if that wasn't cute enough, today he started talking to his stomach. He lifts up his t-shirt, sticks out his tummy, waves and says "Hi!" Then, he pulls his shirt back down, waves again and says "Bye-bye". Hilarious.

mothering and selfishness

I have a problem with asking for what I want. To need or want something that takes any amount of time or money or inconvenience from someone else makes me feel incredibly guilty. I think this is a female thing- I'm pretty sure we have evolved to be self-sacrificing as a mothering instinct, because I see this coming out like crazy with Jonathan.

Typical example: We are eating lunch and after having a taste of my cottage cheese, Jonathan decides he likes it. So I feed him all of mine, spoonful by spoonful (without having any myself for fear he won't get his fill) until it is gone. Then I feel mildly guilty for having eaten any since he now wants more and we are out, and leave lunch a little hungry.

Prioritizing obtaining food for your child = good.

Guilt about enjoying a spoonful of cottage cheese = bad.

Today my yoga class was scheduled to go an extra 30 minutes to incorporate a breathing workshop. And I almost decided not to go because it would mean that Jim would *have* to watch Jonathan for another 30 min after I had (selfishly) been at work all day. (it sounds crazier and crazier to me even as I type it). But I needed to work out and to relax and this was the perfect solution. Jim convinced me I should go (he knows what I need better than I do most of the time) and so I did. It was fantastic. It was exactly what I needed. And no one suffered because I was out of the house for 90 minutes. Why can I only see these things in hindsight?