Snowflakes

I am sitting in the car in the driveway. Anise is asleep in the back. It is snowing, big beautiful snowflakes, and it is quiet. It is dark but the road is white, and the sky is white.

My poor white dog is home alone, in the dark.

Hello

Ok, I am back...

Well, sort of. I should be sleeping right now, or resting, but I feel like writing instead.

Just to report, things are going pretty well here. Husband has completely taken over night shift. He gets Anise to sleep beautifully, and has been great at getting her back, using less and less intervention (was rocking, then petting, now talking her back to sleep). I had two nights in our bed (our old bed is back - up off the floor!!) all by myself, door closed! It felt like I was at a hotel. I slept wonderfully, and have been much more tired these couple of days! I lost the adrenaline that was keeping me going, my body had a taste of sleep and it wants more.

Naps are another issue all together. They were going well, Anise was falling asleep on me no nursing and hardly crying. Sunday she decided that she really should be putting up a fight, and she has been winning. My husband suggested I give up for this week, I had a concert yesterday afternoon, and I have a big concert on Sunday that I am organizing and playing in, and I am quite stressed out about that at the moment. This morning, however, I thought I would give it a try, and Anise cried hard for 25 minutes, I gave up and nursed her (which was the worst thing I could have done, it would have been better not to try, or not to have nursed, I essentially taught her that persistence will get her what she wants, which is not a bad lesson ordinarily) oh well, it is done. She is asleep now in her stroller, I couldn't handle that twice today.

But this has got me thinking about what I am teaching. Am I doing the right thing? Who knows, I am doing what I can, and trying new things. I watch her cry in my arms and I think "this isn't so bad, she has me holding her, she is just angry she is not getting what she wants, she has no feelings of being abandoned etc.". But then I think that the energy, spunk, persistence and stubbornness that Anise has are all good qualities. Not to mention the fact that she is confident and full of happiness, am I ruining that? But she does have to sleep, and she has to learn how. Unfortunately this is the only way I can teach her. It would be much better if someone else did it. She would be happier, and so would I.

I do feel very liberated. I realize I was carrying a lot of fear about what would happen in the future. As if there was this looming transition that had to happen, that would be painful. In the end these changes have not been that painful, and it has given me faith that things can change, I was really stuck. My husband thinks we could have tried earlier, maybe he is right, but maybe it has been working so well because the timing was just right.

Last night I had a dream I gave birth and it was painless. I have had these dreams before, and they are wonderful. They feel so real, it must be nice to give birth painlessly (I suppose it is possible nowadays!) I woke up hoping it was real. It was a little boy in my dream.

I feel like I am getting my period. It has been almost 2 years since I last had one! The feeling is bringing back memories. Memories of waiting, but hoping that it wouldn't come. Being hyper-aware of my body, every twitch, every change, every bit of bloatedness and nausea, hunger and cravings. My wanting to get pregnant was so ingrained that I still want it to happen, just so it can happen. We want more kids, and pretty soon, but not right now. Yet I can't stop this hope that I am...

I should be thinking about Sunday. But I can't. I have forgotten how. I have never done a concert with this little rehearsal, we only have 2 half days. There are only three pieces, but we will be a large group.

So, I probably won't have a chance to write until Monday, but you never know!

Silence

I would like everybody to know that I am enjoying the silence. Anise is asleep in crib, she fell asleep without nursing and WITHOUT TEARS!!!!

Victory!

I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you, women, for your support!!!

Chance

Funny. When I read my blog it doesn't really sound like me. I sound rather unhappy about motherhood, I sound stressed out and frustrated. I am not really, at least not all the time. I use this blog to vent, maybe I should write more of the good things.

Anise turning one has had me reminiscing a lot about giving birth, which in turn reminds me of my struggle with "infertility". I hate that word. Fertility issues is better maybe. Just like my birth story, my conception story was just as unusual.

We started trying in January when we were still living in Paris, I was 28 years old and never had a late or missed period. I could feel when I ovulate, and I hadn't been on the pill for a long time. we tried so hard not to get pregnant that I just assumed we would conceive right away. Now thinking back, I think I was already devastated right from the very first month that it didn't work. We were moving to Montreal in September, everyone said it would work when we moved back home (back home for me, away from home for Husband). It didn't until December, which felt really long. I miscarried at 6 weeks. It wasn't so bad, miscarriage was so common, at least I could get pregnant. What was weird though was the thought that not only had I had life in me, even if only for a bit, I also had death take place in me.

I conceived again in April, miscarried at 6 weeks. Then I went to a fertility clinic and I was officially infertile! (Well not really, I hadn't had 3 miscarriages, and I hadn't been trying for 1 year, arbitrary labels set up by doctors to try to define something which has no logic or definition). It took a year to conceive again, with one failed IUI mixed in (which I subsequently learned that is no more effective than having sex if no male factor infertility is involved, but at least the clinic made some money, and doctors could feel they were "doing" something). I miscarried again at 6 weeks.

That's when we hit a low. It seemed there was nothing to be done. I was fertile, ovulating so we believed that there was no treatment available. But there was! IVF with PDG (pre-implantation genetic diagnosis). We went for it one year after the third miscarriage. The egg collection was uneventful, things seemed to be going well, we had 12 eggs, 11 conceived, 10 survived. However, on day 5 the test results were in: 8 out of 10 embryos has a genetic malformation, and each of them a different abnormality. they named some of the problems, one had downs, one turners etc. It was really weird to hear them say that. There was one embryo that was fine, and a second for which there was no result (that sometimes happens). It sounds bad, but if PGD were to be done on every IVF there would always be some embryos that were abnormal, what was unusual were the number of abnormalities for our age, and the fact that they all had different problems. It seemed they had only seen this a couple of times before, and there is no explanation. we both had genetic testing done and we were fine, it seems it is the combination of us that created this problem. In other words we could potentially have conceived naturally, it is all chance. It could have taken us 10 years or 1 month. The geneticist explained that we could do this again and have 10 healthy embryos, or none. It also explained the miscarriages, and the difficulty conceiving. I suspect more people have this problem but don't know it. When you hear stories of people going for treatment, nothing works, and then a couple of years later they conceive naturally, it could be the same problem.

How lucky we were! Lucky amongst the already unlucky, it worked! And on the first try.

How I tortured myself trying to find a mind/body connection. I went for acupuncture, took herbs, I went for therapy, posture techniques, homeopathy etc. I think my Chinese doctor was wrong, it wasn't my liver. It was purely a technical genetic issue.

One year ago

Anise is one today. Wow, one year. I don't think I can conceptualize what one year feels like. It is four seasons, one summer, one Christmas, many concerts ago.

My labour started on a Monday night, at 11pm. I slept until 1am. Then I woke up husband.

"I think this is it. I think but I don't know for sure".

He got up, had to get some work finished. I took a shower (one of the smartest things I have ever done btw...) then tried to sleep. Listened to Vivaldi's Dixi Dominus, I was relaxed. Then I listened to my hypnobirth tape

"This is it".

I felt no different after the tape. It was the same tape I had been listening to every day for a couple of months. Then I took a bath. The next thing I remember it was 6 am, time to call the midwife, getting too painful. Called my sister to let her know. Then it was 8 am and no one showed up at home. "Call again, and call hypnotherapist, because the tape hasn't worked". Three and 1/2 hours of labour and I was ready to push. Creepy hypno guy came and didn't help the pain but I liked his touch (I couldn't bear my husband's touch - poor thing - but remember, I had been conditioned to the hypno guy's voice for months). At 11:30 my membranes were ruptured, and I started pushing. No break between contractions, a lot of pain. Pushing was good, at least there was something to do. Baby was coming, they could see her, I could feel her head.

"That does not feel like a head" I said.

They told me that sometimes babies' heads get squished and they could be wrinkled. Kept pushing. They feel around the baby's head, something isn't right. Their faces fell.

"This baby cannot be born here, we have to call an ambulance."

"This is a nightmare" I said. "Yes, it is a nightmare." midwife answered.

"Now you will feel a contraction, but you will not push"

"Ok" I said, innocently.

Then the contraction, "holy &%?*....." But I had to push, I had no choice.

Suddenly I could do it - the breathing they had been talking about my whole labour. I had to. I breathed, I had no choice. I thought the pain was unbearable before, it wasn't, this was.

It took 20 minutes for the ambulance to arrive. They came and they fought with the midwives, my husband the hero made them stop.

"Do not have this baby in this ambulance" midwife said.

I was taken to hospital.

"Face presentation" they said. Automatic C-section. Apparently it is one in thousands. It is extremely rare. She was coming out lips first. I was right - that wasn't her head we were feeling, it was her lips.

I was in the operating room, shaking from the drugs. It felt like a long time that I was alone, my husband was not allowed in. Doctors were busy, I was not allowed to ask questions. I would find out later that they had to push the baby back in, she was almost out. Finally husband was there "it's a girl" they said. That was the happiest moment, I cried.

"She's flat" they said as the baby was passed along. I kept asking if she was okay, no one answered me. I asked if she was alive, still no answer.

I thought she had died. In 3 seconds many thoughts came into my mind. It was my fault for choosing to give birth at home. It was too good to be true, I will never get my baby. Then I heard it, doctors laughing and discussing dinner - so she must be alive!

Then they showed us our baby, and we kissed her. Her lips were swollen and her face was blue- bruised and blistered, she looked so damaged. Then they went away, husband and baby, and I was alone. I was being put back together again, and it was painful, and long, and other doctors were called in, and I was told to be quiet, my shouts of pain were not letting the doctor do her job. Something was wrong but I was not told what.

Then it was over, and I was alone in recovery. I asked to see my baby, but the rule was not until I could move my toes. I begged to see my baby. I cried. One hour later I was taken up to see her, my mother was there. I held her skin ro skin and we bonded immediately.

The rest is usual baby hospital stuff. I didn't walk for a couple of days, they released me after 5. Being home was bliss, and my baby was an angel. She had the wisest eyes. She looked old and mature, and she never cried. She communicated through her eyes, and she had a full head of soft silky hair. She took care of me.

One week later I had horrible pain, I couldn't stand up, it turns out I had broken a rib, we don't know how it broke. Either from the labour, or the C-section. A couple of days later my incision reopened. My breasts were killing, my body was falling apart.

For a long time when I would think back to the birth it felt to me as if someone had died. I could rationalize my feelings, but it was beyond what I could explain. Yes, I was disappointed, it was not what I had planned etc. But it wasn't that. I got over that, my baby was alive and so was I, that is all that really mattered. I got over the loss of control, the ton of medication I had to take, and loss of the sanctity of birth. I got passed the harsh lighting, and the separation. Something was gripping me, and it took me a long time to define it. It was terror.

Either because I was in an altered (hypnotized) state, or just whatever state a labouring woman is in, I felt no fear. I didn't feel the fear. But it had been there. It was so deep and so great that it did not come out for a while. My husband felt it, and then when Anise was out and healthy he was relieved. I never felt the sigh of relief because I felt the fear too late.

Now one year later I feel better. I have finally found my energy again, and have finally lost most of the weight. It took me a long time to regain my strength, my body took a beating, and took it hard. I was surprised, I am in fairly good shape, and I usually heal fast.

And little Anise is changing faster than I can notice. There is so much significance in turning one, I never knew that.

This has been the best year of my life.

Thank you Anise for choosing us.

No Title

Things change when they have to change. Anise has left me no choice but to make a change. Maybe she wants it, but it will be hard. I knew that nursing her to sleep somehow had to stop, I was hoping one night she would just roll over and fall asleep and that would be that. Instead she decided to bite me so much and so hard that nursing her to fall asleep is no longer an option. But she still wants to. She had a cold this week, her first big real cold. I thought it would be hell since her nose was too blocked to nurse, but she actually fell asleep without nursing a couple of times. It wasn't the milestone I was hoping for, it was more a sign of how sick she was feeling. Now that she is feeling better she wants to go back to her old ways. Well, not completely, she is nursing a lot less during the day. I could feel some "weaning" is starting to happen, and by her own choice. But how to get her to sleep is a mystery to me.

I need help. I need serious advice. I like advice, I take other people's advice when given, but I have not gotten any advice on this subject that actually helps, given the way things go, her habits and who Anise is.

The plan I have come up with is to do a sort of "pick up put down" baby whisperer thing, but lying down with Anise. I tried that today for Anise's nap, and it didn't go so badly, she actually seemed like she might fall asleep, and then she perked up and got really upset. At that point I decided to let her nurse and she did, she fell asleep and she was too tired to bite. So I thought that was a good beginning, I figured if she gets upset enough she will tire herself out a bit and then fall asleep quicker. So at 8:20 tonight I thought I would try it again. Forget it, she found a strong second wind and just when I thought she had cried enough and was ready, I nursed her and she bit me again! So I gave up, now she is playing upstairs (happily).

Tomorrow is Anise's birthday party, so it isn't the best night to be trying new things. Plus she still has remnants of her cold, another reason why the timing isn't so good. But now it doesn't even seem like I have a choice, I can't choose to do or not do anything, she is biting me, so there is nothing I can do. I will have to wait until she is tired enough, I guess my hopes for early bedtime are dashed. Plus I actually wanted to sneak out for one whole hour to go to a party tonight, I guess that won't be happening.

Why does it feel like I am the only person in the world who has had this particular pattern? Maybe because I am.

I don't think I have ever felt so alone. And incompetent. My husband has no idea that anything is even going on. This has become entirely my problem, and to make matters worse, Anise is in a phase where she won't even go happily to daddy, only me.

I am emotionless. I feel like crying but I can't cry. The only emotion I feel is anger and rage, directed towards guess who. I am channeling my fear and self-doubt to anger and resentment. Resentful that this has become my problem and not our problem. Anyway, what difference would it make if it were?

@%*&! This sucks!!!!!!!!

Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday hee hee. It brought me back to a year ago when I was wondering whether I would get a baby for my birthday. Instead of the 12th Anise chose the 21st. I love my birthday, and this year my husband wins best birthday husband award .

Thank you Isabel for your tag. I had some time to think about it. habits. What is a habit, something we do without noticing or thinking? Or something we feel we have to do? Or is a routine a habit?

A. Each player lists 6 facts/habits about themselves.
B. At the end of the post, the player then tags people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

Some of my habits are:

Drinking Ricore every morning (it is a French drink - a mixture between instant coffee and chicory) I became addicted to it when I became pregnant and decided to go off coffee. Now I HAVE to have it in the morning or else, or else what?

Using ugly expressions like "I am going to kill you" or "I would have killed you", you know kill pronounced like ku-hill. My husband pointed it out to me this weekend, I think I say this a lot and it is an ugly thing to say, but I never would have even thought I said it if it hadn't been pointed out.

Another habit I have is speaking to my mother every morning. I have this need to call her, it starts my day. She sometimes annoys me, and I regret that I called, or she talks and talks and 20 precious minutes have gone by. But it makes me glad that I have a mother I can talk to every day.

I also have a habit of brushing my teeth too hard. And wrapping the blankets around myself so that no air (or person) can get in. And slouching, and pushing my fingers too hard on the holes of my flute, and not taking full breaths, and...

Ok, enough about that!!!! But I will tag:
Kelly at Happiness and Other Surprises
RocketMom at Exploring New Worlds

Let me get to my problem of the week: Anise has been biting, really hard while nursing. Does anyone know what to do? I have tried yelling, ignoring, talking nicely, putting pressure on her shoulders, pinching her cheeks, not allowing her to nurse anymore. It all ellicits the same response: a smile. I don't know what to do, and it is making it really hard to put her to sleep. Plus now she has a cold, so letting her cry is not an option. Any suggestions?

Validation

This is what I was thinking last night as I was nursing Anise back to sleep for the fourth time in a 2 hour period: not only am I a full time mom, but I do also have somewhat of a career going, and that if I were anybody else, pulling off concerts without practicing would be next to impossible, and I don't get any credit for it.

Credit? From whom? Suppose I did: what difference would it make to my every day life? Would I feel better about myself? Am I performing just to boost my ego? Partially. I have been touring around the city for this government-funded program that helps bring classical music to the suburbs. Some concerts have had an ok audience, others had 10 people who clapped between movements. That is ok, it is still nice to perform, all I need is to touch 1 person in the audience and my work is done. But Sunday we had a concert in the heart of the city. It was a small hall that only holds 150 people but it was full. Full of regular classical music goers, full of a hardcore audience that would rather listen to live music than be outside Sunday afternoon on a beautiful fall day. We played really well. As I played I was thinking about how much I really do enjoy performing, and that I was pleased that the enjoyment was coming back (since Anise was born I have been enjoying it much less). We all felt nervous, and we all agreed afterwards on how rewarding it is to play for an appreciative audience. But wait a minute, that is not how it should be. One should not judge an audience, and their knowledge of music does not affect their enjoyment nor should it affect how we play.

I think as a performer we seek a thrill and the higher the risk the greater the thrill. Maybe there is an addictive quality to the adrenaline, similar to other thrill seeking activities, and the more we feel threatened and judged, the more we feel exposed, and the greater the risk.

This brings me back to validation. I guess part of who I am as a performer needs validation, maybe that is why I chose to perform. But I don't believe that is a necessary component for performing. I think it is a negative by-product. Or maybe I can blame my parents. Maybe I wasn't "seen" enough as a child and now I am constantly struggling to be seen. Either way I can go around in circles inside my head.

The thought process ends with "what do I really want?". Do I want recognition? A pat on the back? Do I want to be famous, recognized on the streets? Recognition from my peers? I don't know. If I had planned this I would say that the career/home balance was perfect. But it is not. I can't articulate why. I feel like I have reached a dead end and I only have half the desire and energy I would need to continue to get it going. What I want is a break, time off from thinking or worrying about career. I want to focus solely on child raising. I am too tired, and not in the right mental place to take the ups and downs that come with my career. I do not have the strength to swim against the current, nor the strength to ride the disappointment and push through anyway. I don't have the energy to shrug off competition and rise above the politics, and I cannot play the game. I don't have space in my head for ideas and programs, or strategies. I only have space for poo consistencies, sleep, games and food!

Ok, gotta go print programs...

The Truth

It's the little things that are hard. It sounds ridiculous when said out loud, but it's true. The lawn furniture was moved and blocks my stroller path. The computer was changed and my fonts are gone. There are boxes blocking the basement cupboard so I can't get my gloves.

Anise had a meltdown this morning. I hate when people use that word, but she had one, and it was her first. She was exhausted, I know that, but went hysterical when we tried to lie down. I had two perfect days in a row (10, 2, 8) and I know it is "two steps forward, one step back". I know improvement is gradual, I can't expect too much, but it is hard. I didn't know what to do, so I put baby in the stroller and left the house, she fell asleep in a second.

By the time I left the house I felt like it had been a whole day. I feel Anise is expressing anger for the first time. Is it my fault, is she picking up on my anger? Why am I angry? I feel like we haven't settled yet, that the house is in disarray, that there is nowhere to store things, that we are disorganized and I am waiting for that to change. But it won't. Life is whizzing by at a pace so fast we can't keep up. Too many things need to get done, not enough time.

I know husband is under a lot of pressure. I know he is under too much pressure. I know part of that is my fault. But sometimes I feel resentful that he doesn't know what it feels like to be taking care of Anise full time. He doesn't know what it feels like to go to the bathroom every morning with either:
a) a screaming baby
b) a baby on your lap
c) a baby sticking their hand in the toilet
d) a baby getting into trouble and having to get up and take something away

He doesn't know what it feels like to be on watch 24/7. Last night I woke up and noticed Anise was in the middle of the room, she crawled off her bed. I keep watch in my sleep, something which is both fascinating and disturbing.

He doesn't know what it feels like to try to control things unsuccessfully, to constantly be blaming oneself for making the wrong choice. To be completely alone while making a million decisions a day, all of which are both inconsequential and extremely important. To not be able to take a 2 minute break if you need one, (or taking a break because you need one while somebody screams in the next room, which doesn't end up feeling like a break - or better yet - calling on mom to babysit to take a break and go shopping for food only to come back to a crying baby who then reaches out to you with a red swollen face and stops as soon as you take her in your arms, thus regretting the decision to take that stupid shopping break). To be responsible for someone's well being, and then knowing you will have to let them go one day. To be responsible for someone's happiness (or sleep schedule) all the while knowing that ultimately they are responsible for their own happiness and sleep.

I just want to share these feeling with the person who shares everything else with me. But I can't, just like he can't share what is feels like to have to work so that we could survive. To have no sleep and have to function in public, and be judged by colleagues and clients, and then come home to a hollow wife and cranky baby.

Is there a point at which we can meet in the middle?

I am not unhappy. I am not bitter. I love my life right now. I love taking care of Anise, the joys are limitless. I am just surprised by what is hard. I can't prepare for the hard moments that come out of nowhere and out of nothing, and then are over in one second. I can't prepare for the physical challenges that require a strength that took me one year to get.

But then I look down at my nursing angel who is playing with a button on my shirt, and nothing has ever made me as happy.

Relax Max

I can't keep up with writing, no time. (Isn't it ironic I am writing about not having the time to write?).

I have so many ideas though, and this is one of them. Actually it is more a theory than an idea:

In a baby's first year of life there is a prescribed number of hours of sleep they can get. Anise used hers all up in the first 6 months! Others take 6 months and then start sleeping...

But actually that isn't quite true, Anise gets the proper number of hours, they just don't happen the same way every day. BUT I AM WORKING ON IT.

I am taking advantage of the time change to get her in bed by 8, so far it worked FOR TWENTY MINUTES. She just wakes up so often. WHY?

I am wasting so much energy focusing on this as a problem. I have been focusing on nonsense for year "as a problem" and I have to get over it. Each day is a new day to sleep and nap. If it didn't happen today then the day is over and IT DOESN'T MATTER. I think.

I was fraught with worry when Anise was 2 weeks old and we gave her a pacifier to help alleviate some of my pain breastfeeding. Now I wish she would take a pacifier... She just loves to suck, and only on me. Now I wish I could go back and RELAX, and I am sure in 6 months I am going to say the same thing about now.

Oh well.