Head Above Water

I'm finally done treading water and have gotten my first gulps of fresh air. With Luca it was the first two weeks that were the hardest, with Sabina it was the first two months. I'm now 10 weeks in and it both feels like a blink of an eye and an eternity. Nothing else compares to the roller coaster of emotions that you feel in early babyhood. You have to recover from seeing your body go from large but acceptable with baby on board, to, large but empty, jelly-like and wrinkled. Then there's the vagina, I'll leave that one alone for now, but you can imagine the recovery. Boobs, 3 sizes bigger than normal, with baby constantly attached, which was incredibly painful at the start - somehow I forgot everything. And to top it all off you have this very needy little person and a very needy slightly bigger person who both cry a lot, eat a lot and poop a lot. Oh and then there's that very inconvenient thing about not sleeping. At least not more than a couple hours at a time. Have you ever based your day on trying to catch up on sleep? There's a lot of rushing through meals, conversations, and showers so that you can run to bed and try to get an hour in.

But I'm past all that. Well, most of it. I've lost the large, but still have the wrinkled pooch. The lady parts are doing well. Boobs are getting more breaks and have come down from a Pamela Anderson to a Scarlet Johannson. The little people are still needy, but my little baby lady is going to bed at 8 and only waking up once to eat. That's a game changer. It started right about the time when I had my first sleep-deprived freak out. It was my birthday and I hit a wall. I told Lorenzo, through a stream of tears, that I didn't think I could do it anymore. My post-pregnancy brain didn't know what "it" was exactly, but my tired, hunched over body new something had to change. I can still see Lorenzo's sympathetic look as he said, "Jaime, there's nothing we can do, it will get better but this is how it is right now." It's hard to believe that was more than a month ago. I have no complaints. She is a good, good baby. And when you've slept you love your kids more.

My last pregnant picture, 5 days before Sabina arrived. And that's it. The chapter on pregnancy is officially over, the milestone passed. No more contemplation about whether to have kids, whether to have two, whether I will be able to get pregnant, what will it be like, how will I handle the last uncomfortable month etc. I am no longer a mother-to-be, nor will I ever be again. I am now the mother of two children. I have kids. "The kids are at home", "the kids are at school", "the kids are doing well thanks"...Really, I'm not sure how this all happened. I never thought I would be so domestic. I accept the role lovingly, but I'll also fight it my whole life, that you can count on.

I went to the hospital around 11pm on Saturday night. I was having contractions while my parents were over for dinner, but around 11p, I realized they were getting more painful so the midwife suggested we head to the hospital. At my Thursday appointment she had told me she was on call Saturday (she's my favorite midwife in the group - Lisa - she delivered Luca), she said she could make a case to induce me if I wanted her to deliver baby girl. Of course she was partly joking, but all I could think about was how Saturday was so soon, I was still working after all, I needed a little break, at least another week. But when I got there, they didn't send me home as I thought they might. Turns out I was already 4-5 cm dilated.

So we set out to make our rounds through the halls of the maternity wing of Providence Portland. My midwife didn't have any other patients so she would wait for us at one end of the hall and tell us to make another lap. I would stop every 8 minutes or so to breathe deeply while Lorenzo wrapped me with a tight hug. He knew just how to comfort me through every contraction. At one point he asked, in all seriousness, "so what's a male midwife called, a midman?" For some reason, it cracked me up and brought on another contraction, but I couldn't stop laughing through it. I'm not sure if girl hormones are different than boy hormones, but I did a lot of laughing through labor and up until the end when Lisa said I was going to laugh the baby out.

As we walked, I couldn't get my head to realize what was happening to my body. I kept trying to explain to Lorenzo how distant I felt from the imminent sounds of a baby crying. I've never felt so mentally disconnected from an experience. For 9 months I lived as a pregnant woman, adapting to everything that means, while forgetting the part about the baby being born. I just went about my daily life, with this thing that made me different and more uncomfortable but that I just took in stride as part of my everyday. I worked hard to get my "head in the game" as my dad used to say during my sports heyday.

At just about 7 cm, when I felt the burst of my water breaking, the separation of mind and body was over. It was all I could do to turn off the part of my brain that didn't want to run another lap and to just focus on my breathing. Once I hit 8cm with contractions coming every 2 minutes, writhing with pain, I wondered why I was competing with myself and not allowing myself pain relief. I asked Lorenzo to tell me what to do. Knowing me, he took my concerns to Lisa, who entered the bathroom while I was showering, and told me I should get an epidural. It was what I needed hear, permission.

The worst contractions are the ones that come once you've decided you don't want to feel them anymore. The sensation of feeling pain for 1 minute and then absolutely nothing for 2 minutes, it's a mind fuck. You really think for a minute that the pain won't come back, and then it knocks the wind out of you like a steam train at full speed.

Next thing I knew, the room was dark, Lorenzo was snoring, the nurse was putting a blanket over me, and I'm preparing for the next contraction that doesn't come. The relief was so great that I passed out, or almost. I flashed back to Luca's birth where once I laid down, all movement stopped and a c-section became a close call. So I put my bed up a bit and started trying to move myself around. After feeling the movement was adequate, I passed out.

I woke an hour later worried that my nurse and Lisa would be changing shifts. It was 6:20am (2 hours after the epidural) and they were scheduled to leave at 7. Remembering that I pushed for 3 hours with Luca, I was sure I'd be giving birth to this baby with all new people around me. I was disappointed. But when Wendy came in to check my cervix, she saw hair and started running around confused. "I have to get Lisa. There's a baby right there." I groggily told her to wake Lorenzo. Lisa came in sleep-eyed as well. Here was our baby, ready to be born while we were all sleeping.

And literally, once we all rubbed the sleep out of our eyes, while I was laughing, Sabina was making her way out. Just like that. No pushing, just laughing. I did do one push just to move things along, but by 6:39a she was laying on my chest, warm and soft. I finally met the little girl who'd I'd been carrying around for close to a year. All the wondering and worrying, anticipation and preparation, it all ended in that moment, when I was holding this new little person in my arms.

And now, I am trying to relive those 7 hours, each of those important moments, the way one re-lives the experience of meeting their life partner for the first time. The exciting moment of realizing you have met the love of your life. And in my case, the third in a series of true loves.

Home Stretch

I can't believe how fast I've reached the 35th week of this pregnancy. Two more weeks and I will have hit full-term. Pregnancy is so strange. It lasts for almost a year so you have get used to it and live everyday without focusing on it. Then you hit the third trimester and you wish it would slow down while you simultaneously hold your breath for it to end.

It would be nice if I delivered a little early. I'm starting to get uncomfortable. Lots of abdominal pressure makes it hard to walk, hard to sleep/rollover, I can't wear shoes with laces anymore, tums sit next to the bed to nurse nightly heartburn, I've very tired and growing bored. I want to enjoy the summer, but it's getting hard to do much. And with these very hot days, if I'm outside I have to be in the shade and be sure not to get overheated. I can't really get out of town at this point, and hikes, bike rides and all the other active things I normally love to do, are pretty much out of the question. Plus I'm just so tired, did I mention that already?

Lorenzo is great at reminding me to slow down. In fact he reminded me that I need to be writing. I'm terrible at slowing down, but I really want to appreciate these last pregnant days. Our life plan doesn't include a number 3 which means this is it and I need to remember it and cherish it. I am one of the lucky women who handle pregnancy well. There are moments of discomfort, but overall, it comes easy. It makes me appreciate my body and feel happy that I've really tried to take care of it. It does however, still feel like work. If you haven't ever been pregnant, expect lots of changes and be ready for them. I have a hard time describing what it's like to be pregnant. It's so strange to watch your stomach moving in different directions, completely out of your control. And it's amazing that this little person is right there, just below the surface, growing inside of my body. She's a full baby, no longer a zygote or a multiplication of cells. She could be born tomorrow and she would be a little lady, fully formed, yet somehow she's still inside of my body, as a fully formed human, continuing to grow.

The biggest difference in this pregnancy is that I feel like I blend into the background more than with Luca. It sounds very needy to say this, but with Luca I felt like people were really looking out for me, protecting me and I liked it. Grocery store clerks always offered to help me out, people on the plane offered to put my bags in the overhead compartment, strangers went over of their way to let me go in front of them in line or to ask me about the pregnancy. None of that has happened this time. I think it might be because I forget that I'm pregnant and think that people don't think I look pregnant (funny now looking at that picture there's no mistaking it for a beer belly). It's just different. Lorenzo on the other hand is extremely protective of me, much more than he was with Luca. He is forcing me to sit down, he's doing everything around the house and reminding me not to work so much. He's been great, and to see how excited he is about this little girl's arrival, it's really sweet.

Pregnancy is a stepping stone, but being a mother of two, that's the real deal. The real test. Am I patient enough, wise enough, compassionate enough, loving enough to give my all to three other people? I believe I am. But like everything, I'll be challenged regularly in this new space. It's funny how you daydream about your life. I honestly didn't think I would become so domesticated, and Lorenzo, he never fit this profile. But here we are, about to complete our little nuclear family of 4, dog, house and car included. I struggle with that. But I am also so completely in love with Luca, he is so amazing, and I'm so proud of how Lorenzo and I have steered through these new waters together. Now I'm excited, scared, but excited about becoming a mother again. And then in a few months we'll work on breaking the domestication rules and we'll get adventurous again.

Second 1st Day of School

The anticipation was worse than the actual event. I was very sad thinking about Luca's first full-day of daycare. I knew he would love it and do fine, but what about me? Yes it was stressful to leave work to pick him up at 11:45, to make lunch, put him down for a nap and run out again when grandma came over. Or stress over the things I wasn't accomplishing on the days when we didn't have grandma's help. And in reality, I wasn't spending that much more time with him. But it's the idea. My little man is growing up and I can't slow things down. I've lost control.

I fantasize about the leisurely days we spent in Rome. Everyday as a family, we would spend an early hour walking in Villa Borghese. I would run in front of Luca's stroller to make him laugh, Jackie would play and chase dogs and Lorenzo and I would marvel at the beauty of the place. Lorenzo would drop me at work and then go home and spend the next few hours with Luca and Nonna until I got home and we spent the afternoon at the other park in our neighborhood, Villa Glori. We were so lucky. And once you've had it that good, it's hard to let it go.

I feel guilty that my kid is spending 7 hours at school. But really, it's only a matter of time right? He'll always be in school. It's not that I would keep him at home just to spend more time with him. He's building academic prowess, social skills and being potty trained. All steps in his embarking on elementary and then junior high, high school and beyond. And at each of those steps I'll be thinking about my little rascal. My little man who says a new word everyday in his little man voice. At each stage I'll remember Rome and how he changed from baby to little boy there and how much I loved that time with him.

Quiet the Banter

I have this running inner dialogue in my head and I realized today, the dialogue is me trying to work out how to get my thoughts down on paper. In the same way that I have conversations with Lorenzo in my head when I'm away from him, thinking of the ways to share everything I'm experiencing, I work out how I might structure this event or idea into a story or in this case, blog post. This is all a long way of saying, I'm committed to writing more. If for no other reason than to stop this annoying banter in my head.

And I have a lot to think about these days.

I will however focus on only one of those things here, for the sake of time and energy. And that thing would be the surprise visit we had from the stork about 12 weeks ago. It all started when I put the clothes in the dryer and forgot to turn it on. Then I put the kitchen sponge in the refrigerator. Then I fell asleep on the couch at 7:30, fighting to keep my eyes open. It all seemed too familiar. My intuition drove me to the Rite Aid to buy a test, and 5 minutes later, there was no hesitation from that plus sign, not even a lighter color despite the fact that I was three weeks from a missed period. How many minus signs had I seen in the effort to conceive Luca, each one more depressing than the first. And this time, not a one, and that plus sign didn't elicit the elation it did the first time. I was confused, "what is this plus sign? I must be reading it wrong." After two more tests (totaling three, the national average as I found out later from my midwife), the confusion turned quickly to fear.

Having a second baby is, strangely, something you think about from the moment your first is born. After 30 hours of labor, nurses think it makes sense to tell you how easy it will be the second time, as if it's a given. The common phrase, "the next will just shoot out." People start asking you right away, "so, do you think you'll have another one?" It's such a strange question to me, it really makes it seem more like you're raising domesticated puppies than people. But it makes you think, and ask yourself the question, over and over and over. And you start to think about your age, and if you'll ever regret that you didn't have two. And you think about how fun it would be to have a bigger family. You think about how much joy you felt when you held your baby in your arms for the first time and how you'd like to know that feeling again. You wonder if your kid remains an only child, will they be sad that they didn't have siblings? Will you be inadvertently screwing them up emotionally? And all those clothes you saved...could you really just give them away?

You get closer to making the decision, so you get a little riskier in the birth control department. It took so long the first time, we thought, we can take a few risks right? Wrong. One risky adventure and here we are, a bright blue plus on a shiny white stick. Now there will be another person in the world. And as soon as I saw that plus, I panicked and the banter started, "how will I take two small children to the store by myself? How will I work? I can't afford to have two kids in daycare. Oh my god, pregnant again. Shit. My body going through the 40 pound metamorphosis all over again. Breastfeeding. But I wanted to start riding my bike again, we were going to go to Europe, oh my god, we'll never be able to afford to go back with two kids, shit, will my crappy health insurance even cover everything? Oh my god, pregnant again."

Scared. Pure and simple. I am trying to be excited, Lorenzo is ecstatic and reassuring. He said, "there's nothing more beautiful than a pregnant woman." That is of course until my face bloats out around month eight.

I do know this is a beautiful thing, and I will come around. It's just so much harder for a woman who wants to have a career to give birth and nurture a new baby. We really have to be super heros. Our male counterparts can be at our sides during the birthing process and give us emotional support, and then help with diaper changes. But they can also go back to work without having to worry about feeding their kid, or nursing their genitals back to health or recovering from the 40 pound metamorphosis. They can take off three weeks and then go back to their normal lives. But for me? It's so much more complicated. And even if I wanted to pass the burden on, really I can't, I mean I could if I was so career driven that I didn't care about giving my kid formula from day one. But that's not me, I'm career driven and want to be the best mom I can be. I want to give my kid the best start, but that means trying to work around breastfeeding every hour or pumping, which is god-awful. And if I do rush back to work, because I love it, I will feel guilty. Especially because of the way I spent Luca's first year. And there are those pesky social stigmas when you put your kid in daycare.

No answers yet, but I will continue to write and ponder and get advice; as I said, I'm committed to writing for at least the next 7 months. For now, the big question is, how do so many women pull this off? If ever there was any doubt, women are f-ing incredible. We do it all, and most do it really well. At the expense of ourselves of course, but hey we're mothers, we come last. But I was just moving up on the totem pole again...

Breathing Again

I've been running a four-month long marathon.

The routine. Wake with much difficulty, eat while Luca clings to my leg and asks for pieces of my toast, diaper change and dress, put him in front of a video while I shower. Then out of the house for some combination of stimulus pre-nap. Library, friend's house, park, Children's museum.

Run, chase, laugh, say no, clap, lift, snack, change diapers, wipe buggers, clean hands.

Make lunch, try to eat while Luca steals pieces of my lunch instead of eating his own. And then, finally, after 5 hours, a break. Nap time. But only after many shhh's, backrubs and books. Quickly, I jump on the computer to check work emails. All too quickly, the up from nap cry. Diaper change, snack, leave house.

Run, chase, laugh, say no, clap, lift, snack, change diapers, wipe buggers, clean hands. Shop for dinner. And then, Lorenzo returns home.

He makes dinner while Luca and I run, chase, laugh, say no, clap, lift, change diapers, wipe buggers and then clean hands. Eat dinner while simultaneously feeding Luca.

And then, I start my work day. Until I can't keep my eyes open any longer.

But that was then. Today, Luca started school. Yes I'm happy I get time to breathe, but I was also really excited for him. This is the first step in what will be his long and healthy relationship to education. He literally ran into that classroom and didn't look back. I wasn't sad. I feel implicit trust in his teacher and in the environment and I know they will teach him things I can't (including Spanish).

Now I feel compelled to explain that while this has been a tough re-entry back to "real life" post Rome, I have also been incredibly lucky to have a flexible job, working with people I love. It gave me the opportunity to run, chase, laugh and teach my son new things. It has been invaluable time with him that I have loved. He is a very funny person and I adore him.