I'm too sad to come up with a title

I adopted a mantra when I entered into mommyhood: this is temporary. When BabyJaguar screams like a loon for an extended amount of time for reasons known only to him, I remind myself. This is temporary. When he feels compelled to stay up for an extended stretch in the middle of the night just to hang out, I remind myself. This is temporary. When BabyJaguar fights a nap with all his might even though it's the one thing he needs, I remind myself. This is temporary.

And, believe it or not, the mantra works. It makes a huge difference for me, keeping me relatively unphased in the tougher moments.

And in the good moments...oh, the good moments. It reminds me to cherish everything about him because he's changing and growing so quickly. The smiles he sends my way. They're like gold to me. When I watch him suck on his entire hand, knowing that in only a short time he'll have moved on to some other new skill. This is temporary. When he makes that weird Bill Cosby face in his sleep. When he works with all his might to turn over. When he raises his eyebrows as he "talks" to me. When he snuggles into me during our naps. When he tries to suck on my nose. This is temporary, this is temporary, this is temporary....

And now, as I try in some way to brace myself to return to work on Tuesday, the mantra, sadly, still rings true. This brief time at home with BabyJaguar, the most amazing vacation I've ever been on, it's all temporary.

Can't sleep

I should be sleeping because BabyJaguar is sleeping and the rule of mommyhood is sleep when the baby sleeps and instead I'm up. Up thinking about how I have to return to work on Tuesday. Up thinking and crying.

I went to a good friend's house tonight and was shocked to find her daughter standing, a new accomplishment of the last few days. And then she crawled over to me, another new accomplishment of the week. I even got to watch the video of the first time she stood and cried tears of joy and pride for her great accomplishment.

And then more tears of sadness for myself and BabyJaguar over the firsts I know I'm sure to miss.

I had no idea how much this would hurt. How hard this would be. How much my heart would ache.

Double Hooray!

I officially have a nipple shield free baby! And while the shield wasn't a huge deal (I had ultimately resigned myself to the fact that we may require it forever), I'm thrilled to not have to bother with it anymore!

Hooray!

BabyJaguar, at 13 1/2 weeks, just took himself off the nipple shield on my left breast! And he stayed off! We weren't even trying. He was lying there while I was reaching for the shield and he just didn't want to wait and hopped right on! Woot!

Get my freak on? I can't even find my freak.

Mr Jaguar and I still have not done the deed since BabyJaguar was born. It's my fault entirely which I'm sure you can guess is no surprise. I hope he doesn't freak that I'm blogging about this but I think it warrants discussion and that I'm not the only one struggling with this.

There are a lot of elements factoring into this. First, pushing during delivery can lead to hemorrhoids and, unfortunately, it did. And, unfortunately, three months later, they're still not entirely gone. Improving but not entirely gone. So there's my concern about extra physical pain added on to the common physical pain of sex after shoving a baby out of you. Second, BabyJaguar sleeps in a cosleeper in our room, as in his sleeping area is strapped securely to our sleeping area. Third, I've always been a multi-tasker, but this has now reached a whole new level. I go to bed thinking about what has to be done and I find it very hard to quiet my mind and let myself be present in the moment when it doesn't involve BabyJaguar. Fourth, I have BabyJaguar in my personal space all day long. Don't get me wrong. I absolutely adore it. I love nursing him and playing with him in my lap and and having him doze on my shoulder. But at the end of the day, I often need my own space for a while. Fifth, my hormones are not what they used to be. My libido is really really really low right now. Sixth, I feel like I've lost a lot of my sexual identity. Through infertility treatments and then pregnancy where sex was banned the majority of the time, I can barely connect with my sexual self. I don't even know where she is frankly. Seventh, Mr Jaguar and I are negotiating our way through the bumps of being new parents. It can be stressful and the adjustment has been difficult at times, leaving us both tense as we are stretched thinner than normal. Eighth, I feel really unattractive right now. My body is not what it used to be and I'm still working on accepting it. Ninth, it seems my body has been repurposed. Its responsibilities include growing a baby, delivering a baby and now feeding a baby. My sexual self is not included in any of those three categories. Last, I am completely exhausted. This has improved somewhat but by the time my head hits the pillow, I am beat. And I'm counting the hours until BabyJaguar is going to wake up to nurse. Geez, this a long paragraph. I told you there were a lot of factors.

How's my husband doing with this? Not great, but okay. He has been extraordinarily patient and understanding with me in this arena, but he is ready to get back in the saddle and has been for a long while. We don't actually use a saddle...that's just an idiom. Just wanted to be completely clear on that.

How am I doing with all of this? I am riddled with guilt. I am definitely feeling like a failure as a wife in this department and, ultimately, as a mommy because I know I have to take care of my marriage to be a good parent. And I love my husband so much and feel like I'm letting him down, neglecting his needs.

So my friends keep telling me I need to make a date with my husband. But I start back at work on September 1st (a very depressing post that is soon to come) and, honestly, I'm not willing to give up time with BabyJaguar when I know I will have to leave him for over 40 hours a week very very soon. I can't do it. And I would ruin the date. So, in September, I vow to make a date with my husband and see if I can get my sexy back. It may be a slow process, but I'm up for the challenge. My marriage is too important.

Needles, no matter how scary, are your friend

So yesterday, in one of my many hours of nursing on my couch, I watched an episode of the Baby Story. There was this adorable woman on, cute as could be, worked for Sesame Street. Perky and energetic to boot.

Fast forward to her labor scene where the poor thing is struggling. I mean, her contractions were some serious business and, out of an intense fear of needles, she was delaying getting an epidural until it was absolutely necessary. So she is writhing around on the bed, starting to cry and then she says, completely serious....

"Am I dying?" And I can't help it, I laugh. Because that is a perfectly reasonable question right at that moment. She's saying what so many women must think in the throws of labor. Surely this has to be the funniest line in the scene.

"Cause I don't wanna die......" I can't help it. I'm laughing harder. Surely this is the funniest line in the scene.

But then the nurse, completely deadpan, follows with, "So are you ready for that epidural now?" I am dying with laughter by this point and my son is glaring at me because I'm being disruptive during nursing.

And yeah, she was ready.

I do not miss those pre-epidural contractions. I still need to post my birth story (I know, such a slacker) but from the get go, my contractions were no joke. No.joke.

Post-partum ickiness

I thought you would all like to know that last week I entered the post-partum stage of shedding. Seriously, I'm like a polar bear on the equator.