A Wee Bit of an Identity Crisis

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Having a baby has changed my world. In so many ways! It has made me re-learn and re-evaluate everything that used to be normal and predictable.

Including my identity.

3 months ago, I was part of a couple. Now I am part of a family.

3 months ago, I was a college student who happened to have a very large belly. Now I am not doing anything even remotely academic. (And the belly is shrinking by the week. Hallelujah!)

3 months ago, I was free as a bird. Now I have to make special arrangements far in advance if I want to go off and do something alone.

3 months ago, I didn't know the joy of having and loving a child. Now, my heart is so full it is overflowing!

3 months ago, I got to decide when to go to bed and when to wake up. Now, I can throw away the alarm clock because my child now decides these things for me.

3 months ago, I was easily bored. Now, I always have my own personal entertainment!

3 months ago, I didn't think there was anything special about a person being able to move their head. Now, as I watch my son lift his head when he is on his tummy, I praise him and cheer him as though he just won the Olympic Gold Medal in head-lifting!

3 months ago, I referred to myself as "(my real name)", "me" or "I." Now, I almost always refer to myself in the third-person as "Mommy."

So this leaves me in a bit of a conundrum. Am I still the person I was before? Well, yes. However, the meaning of "me" has taken on entirely new dimensions.

Do I long for the time when I can once again just grab my purse, jump in the car, and go? Sure. But if I did that, it would mean that my son wouldn't exist. (And in a few short years, I will once again have this freedom.)

Do I wish I could sleep late whenever I wanted to? Absolutely, but that would mean never getting to hold my son in my arms and give him his bottle. (When he's in school, he'll be able to turn on the TV on Saturday mornings and watch cartoons.)

While I am still the same person I once was, I sure feel different. Sometimes it's a good feeling, other times it's not so great.

When it doesn't feel so great, I look into the eyes of my 3-month old boy and he smiles at me.

Then, once again, all is right with the world and I am able to embrace the new "me."

They grow up so fast!!

*Sniffle, sniffle*

Can someone hand me a tissue, please?

Yesterday I had to pack away Lancelot's newborn baby clothes. Every single item of clothing had some memory attached to it: "This is what he wore on the day he first smiled!" "He wore this little hat the first time we took him to our Bible study." "These are the socks he always kicked off!" "This is the onesie he pooped all over..." etc etc etc.

I'm sure I shed a tear or two.

On the brighter side, this means he can now wear all the cute 3-month size clothes that he received as gifts at the baby shower. The adorable little rompers that have been hanging in the closet, just waiting for Lancelot to wear them! The blue-and-white striped little cap that used to come down over his eyes is now a perfect fit! The cute teddy bear t-shirt and short set I found at a garage sale months before he was born!

I think I'm going to make a point of photographing him in each outfit the first time he wears them, so I'll be able to remember how he looked in all his baby clothes without digging through a plastic tub. All I'll have to do is open the photo album!

It's amazing how little use he got out of the clothes. It made me realize how silly it is to pay big bucks for baby clothes. Some stuff he never even GOT to wear because it was mis-sized! The sleepers that are marked 3-6 months but which are too tight in the arms and legs. Stuff like that.

E-Bay and thrift stores, here I come!

My Silent Symphony

To all of you pregnant women out there, or those of you who were recently pregnant, or EVER pregnant for that matter, did you ever have an emotional breakdown in the middle of the night? I did. Last night, 1 am. My little Lancelot was kicking me hard on the bladder, I couldn't maneuver my gargantuan body pillow to properly support all this extra weight, and hubby started snoring loudly. I started sobbing, right there in bed, and scared hubby to death. I started begging to "just have a day off from being pregnant."

Fortunately, I have the sweetest, most loving husband in the world. He held me, rocked me back and forth, and told me how much he loved me and how it was all going to be okay, and how sorry he was that I'm having such a hard time. After I calmed down, he also suggested that I go to get a prenatal massage from my doula, saying that it would be a way for me to at least have an afternoon off from being pregnant! Isn't he wonderful? (I'm going to call and schedule that today!)

Anyway, I eventually fell asleep, but awoke early this morning before the sun was up. I decided I would go ahead and get out of bed, make myself a cup of tea, and go sit on my balcony and watch the sun come up. I couldn't have done anything better for myself after the middle-of-the-night freakout.

I live at the back of an apartment complex, and am so fortunate to have a lovely view of the canal running behind the complex. It's very private and quiet, and this morning it was just me, the water, the sky, and the birds as they awoke. Sipping my tea, I watched a spider spin an elaborate web and pondered its motives. There it was, working so hard to create something that I couldn't even see yet. Many people would have rushed over to break the web, but I didn't. I wanted to watch the spider create its work of art.

Without really noticing, I witnessed the sky turn from a dark blue to lavendar to pink, and finally to the lovely color of morning. I heard the song of the birds as they woke up and greeted each other. Ducks flew in and landed silently on the water, and meandered peacefully up and down the waterway, which they had to themselves for a few moments, for in a few short hours the waterway will be crowded with all kinds of wildlife.

It was the most peaceful I have felt in about 8 months. As though God Himself orchestrated this beautiful silent symphony for me, to comfort me in my distress of the dark of night. It was all for me. No one else was around. I saw the houses on the other side of the canal, some with lights on, some were still dark. But as for the sunrise, it was mine and mine alone and I will cherish it always.

My own silent symphony.

Dreams and Wishes

Dreams are nothing more than wishes
And a wish is just a dream
You wish to come true....

That's from a song I like off the "You've Got Mail" soundtrack. I thought I would share some of my dreams and wishes with you in these wee hours of the morning, when my bonnie wee son is making his presence so very plainly known to me, keeping me from a sound sleep and preventing any kind of possible "dreams." (For some reason, this kid doesn't want me lying down right now. Sitting up is the only way to go! After I write this, I'm going to try to fall asleep in hubby's recliner. We'll see how that goes.)

On nights when I have slept soundly, I have had some interesting dreams indeed. Once, I dreamt that I was giving birth, and as the doctor held the baby up for me to see for the first time, the baby had my husband's face! His 33-year old face, with glasses and goatee. It was this infant's body with an adult's head. Then he grinned at me with the same grin my husband has and waved at me with one finger, the way my husband does. It was kind of cute, but weird at the same time.

Another time I had a dream that I was conversing intelligently with my infant son. There we were, changing his diaper, having a perfectly grown-up conversation about something serious and complicated, like politics and recycling.

I've had a number of baby dreams, and in only one of them did the baby behave like a normal baby. He was always talking, or walking, or doing something far more advanced than he should have been doing. Is this wishful thinking on my part to have a child who is highly skilled, or am I in denial that I will be parenting a child? Am I going to expect him to grow up too fast? Or am I just worrying too much about a silly dream?

Speaking of wishful thinking, as I lay in bed unable to sleep on nights such as these, I find myself imagining what life will be like with a child. I often feel that I am still a child myself, and I am overcome with this dreadful fear that I'm not ready. Other times, I am so excited and thrilled to be welcoming a child into the world. I find myself imagining my son at different ages. I see his first day of school, I see him playing catch with his daddy in the front yard, I see him learning to swim. Then he's an awkard teenager with pimples and greasy hair and is trying to get the cute girl across the street to go out with him, then he's the star football player at his high school. Before I know it, my unborn son is grown up and has a wife and child of his own, and I am a grandmother with lots of grandbabies running around the house at Christmastime. I love these little flights of fancy. My life as I know it is about to end, but a beautiful new season is about to begin. And as it is with the changing of seasons, we often mourn the passing of the wonderful time we have just had, but simultaneously welcome the incredible change that is about to take place.

Dreams and wishes. Wishes and dreams.