Goodbye

The thought suddenly came to me that I should quit. And I liked it. I am thinking about quitting flute too, but that has been in my head for longer. I don't know why I am writing, or for whom. I don't think it is for myself anymore (or was it ever?) so it is time to stop. I get disappointed in myself if I don't write, and I don't need something else hanging over my head that I have to do.

I don't need more friendships that I can't even maintain. It feels like everyone is falling away, I must be pushing them away. But you see, my job consumes me, and it is work work work all the time - weekends and vacations included. I work sleep work. I am depleted of everything besides love for my family. I am physically drained, and emotionally drained, and there is no me left to talk or write about. I guess there is little me to listen as well.

And today I have so much anger in me, I am not sure where it comes from, or where it is directed. But I do: It comes from me, and is directed at me. I am angry at concert producers who undermine me, friends who disappoint me, workers who annoy me, and oven mitts that don't protect against heat.

Maybe it is the fatigue speaking, maybe it is that fucking pill, and maybe one day I will be back. But my emotions about blogging are mimicking upheaval I am feeling in my life, and I want to so desperately change things!

So leaving this blog, perhaps returning under a new name, seems like a step in some direction. I am not sure who reads me, but those who do, thank you for being here. I am sending love out to the blogosphere, because that I have...
xxx

Colour

My writing has gotten worse, my words don't speak. I think in blog form, and then I sit down and I draw a blank. Lately I am thinking about sinks and doors, paint colours and floors, and I like the shallowness of it. I am tired of thinking too much, and these decisions replace any deep thought.

Since Anise was conceived, nothing has importance anymore, and that is how it should be. But it takes a child to understand life, and life force. I guess we know it when we are young, and then we lose the ability to filter what is important. Or it is a sign of aging, fear of the fragility of life as we get nearer to death?

I am on the pill, and it makes my stomach balloon out, and it makes me tired, irritable, and depressed. Or is the pill just an excuse? It amazes me that so much can be going on and really all I care about is my stomach sticking out. Vanity is powerful.

Anise said the work "rainbow". 4 days ago I took out a rainbow puzzle, I am not even sure I told her it was a rainbow. 2 days later we saw one, a huge rainbow filled the sky. The next day she pointed to her bowl which has colours all around the rim, and she said "rainbow". There have been many magical moments lately, and I am thankful for that.

Teeth

Anise finally brushed her teeth. All this time she would hold the toothbrush but refuse to let us. Then an email went around my playgroup friends about teeth brushing and fluoride. I wrote sarcastically about what a bad mother I am because all my friends have brushing their kids teeth since before they had them with a washcloth! Then two days after that without any prodding from me, she brushed them. I don't think it is a coincidence.

I have often wondered about the difference between premonition and self fulfilling prophecy. My sister as a kid had a phobia of her dolls' head falling off, and they did. Did she sense that they would, or did they fall off in response to her fear? I have had a lot of similar feelings with Anise. I have an aversion to dressing her in synthetic material, and I adamantly refused to have any plastic on her bed. Before she was born I ordered an all natural wool mattress for her, with a wool mattress pad. It turns out that Anise is a sweater. As soon as her skin touches any plastic she is drenched. Did I know that before, or did she become like that because of my obsession? Is there a difference. Those are silly examples, but there are bigger things: I am not against vaccinating people and children. I do believe there are flaws in the way we administer them, and the amount we give. I also realize that it is a subject that even doctors know little about, and that it is an area which is hard to test. But I have an irrational fear about vaccinating Anise (she is partially), and since I have been right about so many little things, I think I should I listen to myself. I am finally beginning to listen to myself. It took 21 and a half months.

Wrinkles

Why is everything hard for me? I am not the onlt person on earth to have a toddler, other people manage. They look great, cook dinner, and even clean their house! Why am I so hopeless? Why am I so tired? This debilitating fatigue that is here, that makes things so difficult, will it ever go away? Is it something I am not eating? Is it because I am not exercising? Is there something wrong with me? Is it because I am over my ideal weight? Am I doing something wrong? Is it all in my head? Anise wakes up so early, this morning 5am, and by 4pm carrying her upstairs is literally hell. Fatigue has all sorts of side effects: depression, mistakes, panics, and wrinkles, to name a few.

I gave up my diet. After my failed fertility treatment I had this strange surge of energy. It was the contrast between the normal me and the hormone laden me, and I felt great. I had the energy it took to diet (because it takes a hell of a lot of energy) and I did it for 1 week. How pathetic! Then I got sick - a really bad cold. I have not been sick in over a year, I think dieting weakened my immune system. Then Anise got sick, then Husband got sick, then we were away - there was no way! And now we moved, are not living at home, and my treatment starts tonight (back on birth control pills) collection is a little over a month away. Not the time to be dieting - right? Right! Then why do I feel like such a loser?

I lost it the other night. I was so calm before we moved, and excited, denying that any of this was stressful. Then I got so tired that I couldn't sleep, and I cried. Knowing I can't catch upon sleep, nor can I stop to lie down during the day, at night feels like a version of hell. The perpetualness of it is what is horrible. So I finally cried, and I felt the grief and pain that is in my body - the longing for, and loss of a child again. It hurts. I can deny it, and then it hurts again. I am good at burying it - I have to , but it comes back to haunt me sometimes.

This time I am ready. I want a baby (it is impossible to be more tired, right?). Last time, I wasn't. I did not feel ready, maybe that is why it didn't work. So here I go again, on the roller coaster of why's and maybes, and hopes and fantasies. Oh well. It is my choice. And my house is going to be great.

I Am Still Here

I am behind, behind, behind on the blogging front! What to do first, read, write?

We are renovating our house. Gutting the whole first floor. So we spent the last week moving and preparing. We are moved out, staying at my in-law's empty apartment. It feels like we are on vacation, I love it! I am glad to have a project which is neither flute nor baby related, and then we are going to get what will feel like a new house, very exciting. Needles to say I am tired tired tired, but I feel I have no right to complain since this is all our choice. Husband went back to work today after 3 weeks off. He took another week off after the leg and sick fiasco.

Fall is coming, the air is cooling and I can feel renewal happening. I love this time of year. Things are starting up again. I had to wait in line to sign Anise up for a program, the first of what will be many signing-up experiences. But I have no time to write, no time for anything. Haven't found new babysitters, old ones are back to school. Plus when your go to sleep at 9 your evenings are short...more later.

Vacation

Here's a little taste of our vacation:
First day: I got sick.
2nd day: I got progressively worse.
3rd day: Husband sprained his ankle badly, had to go to hospital, he is on crutches.
4th day: I was sicker, but we got through the day somehow, and I got Anise's diarrhea on me (that's just a detail).
4th night: we were all up for most of the night, Anise asked for noodles at 1 in the morning, what was i supposed to do?
5th day: I drove us home (not all the way, we decided to break up the trip, I am writing this from a hotel part way home) Anise puked in hotel when we got here, and then again on me in a restaurant.

I am feeling somewhat better.

Too bad, because I really could have used a vacation...

Breathe

We are going to the beach, on vacation. Yay!

Home

I have been feeling better lately. I think. It doesn't matter anyway, because hoping, longing, and wishing are useless. Those artificial emotions that I felt during these past 8 weeks, since the treatment began, have been hard to shake. It makes it easy to lose sight of the present. But now I have no choice. I can be angry and sad, but that won't change the outcome either, and the reality is that right now, today, I am happy. I felt like I got thrown back to 4 years ago when I wasn't. And so, I joined Weight Watchers. Yes, I did it, I took the plunge and I have to admit I feel hungry. But maybe this will be a way for me to channel some of my desire for control.

I recognized that I like control. I am not a control freak, but I do like to take chanrge of things as much as I can. I worried about that before having Anise, I really did not want to be a controlling parent. The opposite happened. After Anise was born I enjoyed the thrill of having someone else in charge! Now I see that Anise likes to be in control of her own destiny. She has this mischievous smile when she does something she isn't supposed to, and then she pretends that she stopped because she decided to, not because I asked her to.

I cannot make a baby. There is a possibility that I can, but it won't be from anything I do. Can I truly believe that? I have no choice. Missing the present would be more loss.

Nope

Fuck. Shit. Merde. Putain. Tears.

Not Pregnant (I think)

So things are not looking good. I have had a bit of spotting, and a pregnancy test done yesterday was negative. I have been having mega PMS. It isn't 100% confirmed (I did do my test a little early), I will know for sure tomorrow, but it is most probably a no. This "difficult" period reveals to myself just how fucked up I am. The mental tornadoes of dialog that go through my head are really insane.

I could not wait to do the test. A normal person would have waited for the blood test which was originally scheduled for Thursday, or would have done a home test the day before. Not I. I had to do it on Monday because I was going insane.

I am sad, and the grief is weird. I didn't cry until I passed by an American Apparel store yesterday and this was the link: I had bought a turtle neck there about a week before Anise was born, and I wore it every day until she was born. I had a flashback to the days preceding her birth and I was overcome with sadness. It brought me to her birth, the experience of which is still in me physically, and in a sad way. I don't know why. But I do know why. When they pulled Anise out they yelled "it's a girl" and I cried with joy. Then they yelled "she's flat" and it was a good 20 seconds before I knew if she was ok. Those 20 seconds got stuck in my body. I knew for a very brief moment what it could have felt like to lose her. This failed IVF is bringing up feelings of the fragility of life, and in particular Anise's life. How lucky we were that we got pregnant right away last time, and how lucky were we that she was ok. Now it seems so difficult and complicated, and we are now realizing that never having another child is a possibility. I was confident going in, that although our embryos are fucked up, my body fertility wise, was still young enough.

I feel somehow this is my fault. But that feeling of guilt is not me actually feeling responsible, it is more than that, it is my ego talking because if it my fault that it didn't work, then I can also choose to make it work, and that gives me an illusion of control. If I can control it, then I can make it happen next time. If only there were something more I could do. What do you have to eat to produce healthier eggs?

I don't have theories about when life begins. But if it does begin at conception, then even though this embryo didn't stick, I still touched its life. And my feelings of loss could be an actual loss of this life that was inside of me, even if only for a short time. And that is why I am scared for Anise.

Isn't it amusing how I can come up with all sorts of elaborate theories of loss and sadness, instead of just feeling it is normal to be sad and disappointed that this IVF cycle didn't work? I want to put up a brave face. Failure is part of these procedures, and I knew that going in. Some people have to do this 10 times.

And you know what bothers me the most about this whole thing? My weight. that is what I have been obsessing about. After all that it is only my vanity that matters.

At least I mourned yesterday, and was able to close the chapter. Then I woke up this morning with renewed false hope that there is a real possibility. Maybe it was too early for the test, and sometimes people have some spotting...

I go for my blood test tomorrow.

4 More Days

Putting the question out of my mind. Distracting myself. Not thinking about it.
But there is still a voice:

- I am getting my period
- My hair is still falling out, so I am not pg
- I have a bit of spotting, so it is my period for sure
- I am having hot and cold flashes
- I don't want to have to go through this again
- I should have rested more
- I should have gone for acupuncture
- I should have gone for hypnosis
- I should have gone to a naturopath
- I am too tired
- I am not ready for a baby
- I didn't call my new baby to me
- I am still nursing
- I have not been eating healthy enough
- I have not been exercising enough
- It is my fault
- I have nothing to do with it, it is pure luck
- I am getting old
- I don't even know for sure yet

The difference is this time I am not listening to this voice, but I am. Anise distracts, but every time I bend down (100 000 times per day) or pick her up (300 time a day) I feel that I am pushing that embryo out.

Wasn't I an intelligent, rational person? What happened to me?

4 more days...

One

We got one little guy...Better than none, it only takes one. Now is the worst part: we wait, and wait and wait.
It feels like forever, one week left.

Disappointed

I am feeling low. Very bloated, sore and low. At least I am having an emotion...

I have lost friends. Both virtual and local. I have lost friends before due to this whole infertility thing. But I didn't expect that this time. As far as my virtual friends are concerned, it is my own fault, I went away and I disappeared. But as far as my local friend is concerned, I have no idea what happened. Nor do I feel like speculating. It doesn't matter, but it does.

This fertility process makes me feel alone. The physical pain is real, but I don't get sympathy for it. The emotional pain is worse, and now that I have a child I don't get any sympathy either. I am trying not to be afraid, not to fear the failure. But it is hard. Although it feels greedy, I want another child. Other people can have them, so why can't I? I read once that people with secondary infertility are just as depressed as people who have not had any children. For me, the desperation is not at all the same, but my idea of a family always consisted of more than one child, and I would be unhappy if I could not conceive a second, but not as unhappy if I couldn't have any. People (those I choose to tell) keep saying to me that if it doesn't work then it's ok because I have Anise. Yet no one questions women who have no trouble conceiving who choose to have more than one, as if it were so unusual!

No one seems to realize that it is actual surgery. Here I am again, focusing on external validation. Why do I care what other people think? I rarely ask for support from people, and when I need it, I never feel like I get it. Obviously it is something I am doing that makes me feel disappointed, but what?

9 Lives

So we have 9 embryos. Nine little potential beings. We find out the results of the PGD on Friday, they day of the transfer. We may get none, we may get a few. Last time we had 10 embryos, only 2 were normal. But I am not going to speculate on the odds because there is no point in either worrying or getting excited.

Yesterday was painful. It hurt much more than last time, and I had to get more medication than usual. I was nauseous and dizzy afterwards and I threw up when I got home. Then I felt better.

When I tell people I am in treatment they sometimes react by saying "that is so exciting". I try, but I can't see it that way. Surgery is rarely exciting, and having sex to make a baby seems much more exciting to me. It is really strange, because I am not sick, but I have to take drugs that make me feel bad, and then have surgery and medication, just for the remote possibility of becoming pregnant.

The whole thing is surreal, and I am numb. I guess that is a good way to handle it. I am too distracted with Anise to really think about something else. It also helps that I am not in a rush. With Anise it was different, we were desperate. I am no longer desperate, it would be nice if it worked and it would suck if I had to go through this again because physically it sucks. Plus resting is not really an option. But other than that if I got pregnant later that would be ok too.

It has been strange this feeling of being disconnected. I am aware that my posts are boring, and I can feel that I am boring to talk to these days. I have been rereading some of my old posts, back when I had things to say. Where did I get all that energy from? These days my brain is quieter; something I have been trying to achieve for a long time. We have a nice routine going, and I am busy all day playing, feeding, smiling, going to activities. I literally have no time to think and that is a good thing. But it makes me a bore. Or I worry that I am escaping myself, hiding form emotions I don't want to confront? Ok, that was way too much thinking for me, time to go to sleep...

The Collection

Tomorrow is collection day. Otherwise known as egg retrieval. Wish me luck...

The Body Snatchers

Everyone around me is running. My sister, my potential brother-in-law, even my parents started running. My blog friend on Cheerio Road has been too. I want to run but I have a million excuses and they are all good. The only times of the day that I am not without my sidekick is the occasional afternoon (too hot) and after babe's bedtime (too tired). And I really am tired and everything hurts and I need new shoes. Maybe if I buy myself new shoes I will be inspired. It is so hard to run when you are heavy, or feel heavy. Each time my foot hits the pavement it sends jolts up to my shoulders. I am fat, and sluggish. Maybe if I only do 20 min every day? That sounds feasible, just 20 min no more no less, at 8 pm, not too early, not too late. Or maybe I should start a run/walk programme. that seems to get people going. But all of this is too much work, too much chatter in my head. Too much indecisiveness, no commitments. And that is how I feel right now. All over the place, not knowing what will be in a week or two. And nothing matters. There is nothing to do but the day to day , but it is summer! I hate routine in the summer. I want my husband home, i want vacations, I want the beach and the ocean, and I want lakes and the country. I want bbq's and campfires. I don't want the daily grind. I am just not satisfied right now, and my body is not my own. I am being pumped with hormones and it has been making me impatient. With myself and with Anise and I don't like it.

Ultra

Haircut got postponed. I hate when that happens. Now I have dirty hair. And it was hot again today.

Tomorrow we go for an ultrasound (and I am such an idiot that I think I may have forgotten to book it, but my husband reassured me that because we paid 10 700$ they will probably squeeze us in) to make sure there are no cysts and we can go ahead with the follicle stimulating drug. I should be concerned about it, but all I can think of is whether Anise will be ok without me tomorrow. My mom will come be with her in the morning, and I have a babysitter coming in the afternoon. I have hired these college students to be with Anise four afternoons a week. Since she only naps in stroller (don't worry, I am not getting into it) I needed the break, then got addicted and dependent on the break! Anise is good with them, but has a limit of about 2 and a half hours, then she gets ancy. Tomorrow will be worse since I will have been gone all morning too. Sometimes I feel I stress her out for no good reason. I am going to meet with a colleague/friend of mine, I haven't had a chance to talk to him in ages and I am looking forward to it. So yes I need to recharge my batteries to be a better mom blah blah blah, but I still get anxious sometimes about leaving her. Is that me being crazy, or am I reacting to a reality which is she isn't entirely happy being left yet?

I have been thinking a lot about Anise's birth lately, and how can a child feel confident that their mother is coming back when their first experience out of the womb was being ripped away from their mother for 2 hours? Just when she needed me most. I want to sue the hospital for having put us through that. The repercussions are so much greater than they realize. I will never get that back, and neither will Anise, but I fantasize about going back in time and insisting that we not be separated. Maybe if I had signed consents? I am sad and angry about my birth experience, when will that heal? And until it does, why would another person want to come to me?

New look

And tomorrow I am getting a haircut.

Idling

I am singlehandedly contributing to destroying the earth. It is 40 degrees with the humidex and I am sitting in a running car with the AC on. Anise is napping, there was literally no other way today. I am sorry environment, I just may buy carbon credit for this.

After not having touched my flute in between concerts for many many months, I have been having an urge to play again. I don't have any concerts coming up until the fall, and none are my own. It feels great to be stress free (free of work stress that is) and Anise has been so happy lately. Performing is such an intense stress for me. It has great highs that accompany it, but it is like no other pressure. I think I am bad at hiding it and I certainly pass a lot of the stress along. I wonder if I will constantly be weighing the pros and cons of working until one day I will wake up and my kids will be gone and all I have is work. I will then look back and say how silly it was that I was preoccupied with so much questioning, instead of just taking 5 years to raise kids and then slowly, when the time is right, get back into things. Instead I ruminate over the same questions again and again, all the while not really having as much control as I think I do.

I live in a neighborhood with a lot Hassidic Jews with huge families of 15 children. The women start young, probably at 18 and spend the majority of their adult life pregnant or with an infant. I think of myself and my complaints about how hard motherhood is with just one, and I wonder what it feels like to have 13. They have no room for contemplating choices because their choices are limited, and that must be freeing in a way. But I can make that choice too if i wish, to just raise kids (or kid) and do nothing else. I know that choice would not fulfill me, or make me happy, but it looks easy from the outside. Yet if I made that choice my day today would be exactly the same! The tantrums would still erupt, food would still have to be cooked, house still cleaned. So what seems easy and free about that other lifestyle? Something having to do with order and expectations? I don't know, but they don't look that tired.

Round Two

It's weird, in some ways I don't have much to say. Maybe it is the heat. Maybe it is Anise's age, she is 19 months and there is no time for critical thinking. My head is pounding and the fatigue is insurmountable.

We are going through fertility treatments again. The timing isn't perfect, but we don't have the luxury of getting it all right. The opportunity came up to start earlier so we took it. With such high chances of failure it is better to get a head start. I am still nursing. Ideally I would have loved to have weaned, and lost 20 pounds, but here we are. I am being injected nightly, with 2 weeks to go until the collection day.

At first, starting treatment conjured up all these painful memories that I thought I had forgotten but were stored in my body. Now I am numb. I am not thinking too hard, which is a good thing, but I also have this strong feeling that because I haven't been thinking about it, it won't work. It is more of a superstition I guess. I haven't had time to call the little soul to us. And part of me feels that I am really not ready physically- too tired, and because of that it won't work either. I am terrified of having to go through this again. The hormones suck.

I don't know why I have been so tired. Anise sleeps through the night. She wakes up early (mostly 5am) but a lot of people wake up at 5am on purpose. I guess I am just a tired person. Strange how fatigue has never been a legitimate complaint for me, it has always been associated with laziness, as if it weren't real, an excuse for not doing things. But now I do everything, but I crash at 9pm, or do things with a heaviness that astounds me. I keep hoping it will go away.

For Real

I went to visit a colleague today who's husband is a famous baroque music scholar. In the 1960's he was responsible for the revival of the baroque oboe, and he has written a couple of books. We are privileged here in Montreal to have him around. Every time I visit him he tells me fascinating things and is actually interested in talking to me. Today I went to see him with Anise, and he was talking to me about his new thoughts and his new subject of interest (an Indian musician's opinion that there is a difference between improvisation and composition, a comment with which he disagrees). Meanwhile I was thinking how strange it is to be in a time and space where I no longer have time to think. I hardly ever think, and if i do it is about Anise. Sometimes about felting a sheep, but that is unusual. Then Anise put her hands on either side of my face and gave me multiple kisses on the lips and I thought, this is the best thing in the whole world.

Back?

Should I write again? Will anyone know I am here? (they might if they have that google reader thing).

I still think in blog form, therefore I should keep writing.

I'll give it a try.

There, it wasn't that hard!!

PMS

I am annoyed that I haven't been able to blog more, and I am worried that I am going to lose my blogger friends.

I have been in rehearsals this week, I have a gig with orchestra this week. A lot of rehearsal, and 4 concerts. It hasn't been too bad, but I find it hard to leave in the morning. Anise gets upset when I leave, and even though I know she is fine the second I am out of sight, leaving to the sound of screaming is not a light happy way to go to work.

The rehearsals have been fine, but the leave me physically exhausted, and have me conflicted about work. It is something I have been thinking a lot about anyway recently. I have been thinking of quitting completely, then I get a gig and am reminded that I do love to play. Then I come home and Anise is clingy, doesn't go to sleep as happily, I am irritable because I am tired, and I am reminded that this type of irregular and intense work is too hard for us right now. I could go on and on, but this is so boring.

I have my period and everything hurts me. I think this month I had record pms, I had it all, insomnia, night sweats, headaches, and zits to top it off! Only because I am showing my face in public for the first time in a while...

It is 8pm, Husband is out for a much needed friend outing and I am in bed with my computer, I should do this more often.

Off to watch a movie!!

Renew

Time, or having time, is all warped these days. I have time to spend one hour going for a walk, and only getting as far as our block. I have time to admire every pebble, every step, every flower, every house. But no time to talk on the phone, or write an email. Isn't that great? I think it is, except when I have to write an email, or feel like posting a blog entry. I have written so many in my head, but I guess that is where they will stay.

I went to a funeral on Thursday, my great-aunt's husband. It wasn't a close relation, and he had been sick for a while, so it wasn't upsetting for me. But as the Cantor was singing and the Rabbi talking, I was thinking about my relationship with judaism. The comfort or the discomfort I feel when at a Jewish religious service. Hearing a cantor reminds me of my childhood, and I was thinking about how I wish that it wouldn't feel foreign for Anise. But I know I would never send her to a Jewish school, and I don't think I would be comfortable bringing her to synagogue, so how would she ever be exposed to that? I could take her to synagogue on high holidays, but how would I do that without the hypocrisy?

The Rabbi spoke about my great uncle, and of the fact that he was a holocaust survivor. He survived Auschwitz. And that became his identity. And they are dying. The last of the survivors, we are starting fresh, without that as a constant theme. Will some of the sadness also dissipate? What will Judaism feel like without those people? I grew up with the stories, and the music the songs, and the heaviness of the holocaust. Anise won't, and in some ways that is a good thing. Will she feel comfort when she goes to s Jewish service? Or will it feel foreign? How will I teach her all those beautiful songs? I have long forgotten the words.

Quiet

Shhhhh. I am hiding upstairs. Anise is downstairs with the babysitter and she doesn't know that I am here. I feel so guilty, as if I am spying on her and lying to her. She is remarkably quiet, especially considering she woke up from a nap. She is never like that with me!!! I don't hear one single whine. What do I do wrong?
Today I was supposed to stay home to get stuff done. I got nothing done. Oh well...at least I wrote this.

Spring

The days are getting longer, the weather nicer, and sleep is leaving us. No longer easy bedtime, no longer full nights without waking up, and naps are - forget it.

We are tired! Not any tired, but a great big tired. We need a week, no make that two, to really catch up. But we never will.

Husband thinks I should go away for a night. A whole night! Wouldn't that be amazing! No computer, just books. And me by myself in a hotel room, free to sleep as much as I want! It sounds like heaven and I think I just might do it.

It is spring (well almost, if you ignore the fact that it snowed all weekend) and that makes me want to clean. Since I can't clean because I wouldn't even know where to begin, I find myself longing for a new house instead. And if I can't have a new house, then maybe I would like to add a story to our house. Or maybe I should get new hair. A new hairstyle, but I want it long again and that requires patience. Which I don't have. If I did it would be easier to lose weight. That brings me to my next problem, losing weight. Which sucks. The stupid gym takes up all my time, plus I hate it, plus it weighs on me. But it is time to lose all this weight and hopefully all my other shit will melt away as well.

Yay spring.

Transition

I belong to a mom's group, we meet every Tuesday evening for 2 hours. It is a "Waldorf inspired mom's group" led by a kooky woman who was a Waldorf instructor, is inspired by Magda Gerber, and is a midwife for baby clowns (see what I mean when I say kooky). But this group is great, full of six bright, passionate, dogmatic, strong, intelligent, articulate woman, all coming from different places with different stories. We all have kids similar in age. The goal of this group is to nurture moms. I love that concept. We belong to so many child centric groups, it is refreshing and inspiring to be focused on mothers.

We begin each meeting with a check-in. We all say where we are, what we have been thinking lately. No one answers we just all listen and then breathe. Last night I realized where I was, and where Anise is: we are in transition. A good transition. Anise is walking now, and besides being the cutest thing on earth, it is incredible watching how proud she is of herself, and how she is just opening up and enjoying her new skill, and new independence. I have so many questions about child rearing, about activities, about how to be. I finally have a place where those can be answered.

I am learning so much. I have been reading a bit, but taking things slow (having learned from my past experiences with trying to follow a method when it comes to children). I have not formed an opinion about Waldorf education, because I am learning about it in bits. I don't feel like reading Steiner right now, nor do I want to read about Anthroposophy. But I love the mood, the energy and the spirituality of this group. And I love the wisdom this woman imparts. People have been putting books into circulation, and last night I put my copy of Momma Zen into the pile. Interestingly enough the topic of guilt came up for the first time. I feel guilt is such a strong prevalent negative force among educated moms I was surprised it had never came up before. How relevant then, was Momma Zen. The answer we all gave (independently) for dealing with guilt was being present (and that is what Momma Zen is all about).

I have been thinking about approaches, and my approach with Anise. I have been changing mine a little bit. But now I am able to step back and know that there is no answer and no right way of doing things, and I am proud of myself for remembering that.

Transfer

Today I had had it. I reached my limit. The day was screwed up, I was screwed up. Feeling guilty, angry, frustrated. I drove Husband absolutely crazy. I am trying to be strict with routine, but trying to include some activity. How do we have a routine when every day is different?

By this morning we had managed to totally screw up Anise's nap. She fell asleep in the car, (at the wrong time) and then we tried the good old fashioned transfer from car to crib. Nobody believes me when I say it doesn't work, so I thought why not try (again) so that I am not making false assumptions. Of course it didn't work, so we rushed her out in the stroller, but by then she was up and no sleep was coming. So we rushed home, her lunch was late, and I was pissed.

At that point I realized that I had no physical way of putting her to sleep for a nap anymore. Stroller was no longer working, rocking, nursing, car, singing, crib, cuddling, dancing, tv. Nothing.

So I lay down with Anise on my bed and I told her to go to sleep. And she did. She knows.

I am hoping this is a turning point.

And I can breathe a sigh of relief. I am mad at myself for all the emotional energy spent on this issue of sleep. But I can't get out of it. I don't know how.

Minimizing the Expectation Gap

The first time I threw a dart it was 15 years ago, at a dart board I had bought my husband (then boyfriend) for his birthday. It was a professional board made of bristles. We set up the board, measured the proper distance and I picked my dart. I threw it with a graceless movement of my arm, and the dart slowly wobbled on its way to the dart board in a straight line, not even elegant enough to make an arc. It landed right in the middle. Bull's-eye. The next fifteen thousand times I never even hit the board. Beginner's luck.

The other day we bought a potty. I had read somewhere that it is a good idea to leave a potty around to play with, so that the child becomes familiar with the object and will one day go in it. I am in no rush. Anise is 16 months old, and there is plenty of time to work on potty training, plus it would be easier in warmer weather. I showed Anise her new toy, she was very excited. I told if she wanted to, she could poo in the potty. She had also made a huge mess eating dinner, so I removed her clothes, and while I was at it removed her diaper too. I realized we never let her roam naked (because it always feels cold) and that might be something she would like to do. She played with her potty, and then pooed in her potty. I am trying to be careful not to push her to go again. Knowing me I will ruin the whole thing by pushing too hard, so I am going to forget about it, even though it is tempting to leave her naked all day and do only that!

I don't believe in beginner's luck. I think it is something else. Perhaps maybe having no expectations frees the mind. Or maybe it is something more, something deeper than that. Impulses from beyond. A couple of times we have had enormous sleep success after giving Anise a homeopathic remedy for sleep, but it would only last once. One night, or one nap, or one day. It has happened too often to be a coincidence. Not often enough to really think the homeopathy worked. Plus that would be the opposite - after giving a remedy I have expectations!

You know how they say practice makes perfect? Well for most of my life it has been the opposite. The more I try or "do" the worse things got. I know it is the same for Anise's nap. I learned to undo with flute, can I undo my anxiety?

I used to take gymnastics as a kid, and I could always do it the first time, then never again. Maybe it is thinking too hard, trying too hard, wanting too much. It was even like that for concepts for me. I would understand the physics equation the first time it was explained to us, then the more the teacher explained, the more I would lose it. I understood everything in school so quickly, but as the teacher went on my brain said "if this requires this much explanation then I must have misunderstood - it must be much harder and more complicated than I originally thought". So I would disconnect.

Like potty training.

No Naps (Again)

I know, I know I have written extensively on the sleep problems we have been having. I stopped writing about that for a while, partially because things got better, and partially because it is really boring to read! But while nights are good (knock wood) and I am extremely grateful, naps are not going so well. We had reverted back to stroller naps, because I was desperate for Anise to get enough sleep. But I don't find that to be a good solution, partially because with the winter we are having it is just too difficult, I need the break in the day to get stuff done, and I think it is time for Anise to have positive sleep associations with her own bed. I was given advice from someone I trust, who helped me get to the point of no more nonsense, Anise must now nap in her bed. Her technique was a "cry-it-out" but going in every 20 minutes. She promised 3 days. But since I had already been having unsuccessful cry-it-out sessions with Anise, going in every 20 minutes really didn't work. My limit for letting her cry for a nap is 1 hour and a half, and maybe that is my problem. She doesn't end up falling asleep by the end of that! She can just keep going. The more she cries in her crib, the more she will hate going in there. After the first couple of days we had made tins of progress, Anise went down for a nap with no tears, although she only stayed asleep for 40 min (which for a 16  month old who woke up at 5am, is not enough). I figured eventually length would come. I was wrong. The past couple of days there was a lot of crying and no sleeping. At this point I am totally freaking out, because she is not getting enough sleep, and I am worried that will impede her cognitive development. But now every time I out her in her stroller, I am reinforcing  the problem. She would take 2 naps and one would be almost 2 hours if I kept rolling, compared with one 40 minute nap at home...I am really stressing out and honestly do not know what to do. I have literally tried everything.

Will

How much longer will naps be a fight? How can a little person fight exhaustion so hard? I know I can't.

I have been thinking about will. I have been thinking about doctrines (I know I have written about that before). I have been thinking about life plans. I have been thinking about birth.

It is ok to recognize that somehow there is a failure within the medical system. But how to make peace with the fact that it is also a system which helps more than hinders?

This was my plan: conceive under the stars, with my beloved, during the best most spiritual lovemaking. Give birth at home, away from bright lights, umbilical cord pumping after birth. Live in a home full of wooden things, with no television to be seen. That last sentence is half joke, but is significant and representative of what I have been thinking about lately.

This was Anise's plan: come to us in a petri dish. Lift up her head during her birth to see the light, only to be rescued by doctors who need bright lights to do their work. Play with all sorts of toys (and play she does - yesterday morning for 1 hour by herself in her crib!) plastic, wood, silent and noisy. Watch, sing, dance and laugh to the television. No, make that Sesame Street only, nothing else is allowed to be on.

Anise knows exactly what she wants, and always has known. I respect that, and as long as it is possible, I can give her what she wants. And I can let go of doctrines, of things I once thought were "right".

I was speaking with someone who had the perfect homebirth, and who rejects medical care as much as she can. I can understand her, because in some ways I agree with her. But it is very easy to be anti medical help when you don't need it, and she is under a false impression that it is in her control. What if her child had decided to lift up her head?

Then why am I jealous when people say they don't own a tv, as if it were something they can accomplish but I can't. I like tv! But I wish I didn't!! Why can't I just like me???

Uch

I think I am losing my mind. Like Jena I am a worrier. I worry about everything and I create scary scenarios in my head. I used to be worse, and I worked on getting better, but it comes in waves. Usually the more stressed I am the more I worry about other things. But today was worse.

I left Anise with the babysitter to go to a café, catch up on e mails and phone calls. Today was my relaxing day off. I left with a pit in my stomach. Anise was tired this morning, I actually put her down in her crib for a nap right before I left at 9am, I left her crying and told Lenda to give her 20 minutes. Now at 12:30 I decided to rush home in a panic because I forgot tot tell Lenda what to give Anise for lunch. Lenda wasn't feeling well this morning, and I pictured her collapsed on the floor with Anise screaming in her crib. Thinking how happy I was that I put Anise in her crib, at least it is a safe place. So strong was this "feeling" or "intuition" that I couldn't wait the 30 seconds it would take me to drive home, I had to call on the way. Of course everything was fine - better than fine, Anise slept 40 min, was eating her lunch (Lenda knew exactly what to give her). Oddly enough when I worry most is when things go well. When I do decide to shut off and not worry is when I get called back.

I am just feeling antsy in general. When I am in this state I cannot trust my gut (clearly), and I have a career decision to make and do not know how to make it.

***

I hate my job. I sent 2 concert proposals to a small concert series in a small suburb, who heard me play and was interested in a program for next year. I sent in 2 proposals of concerts I have performed before. The organizer did not think the board would like one of them because she thought there was too much solo harpsichord. She asked for details of the program, but doesn't know enough about this repertoire to even know what the pieces are, and they are no for solo harpsichord. Even if they were she clearly does not trust me as a programmer. All this (4 emails back and forth) for a concert for 50 people, and for 200 dollars per musician!! I get more respect from people for my felted bear. I should do that for a living.

Obsessed

I haven't finished knitting my sweater, but I have a new passion: felting.

Look what I made!
and this

I Am Sick of Snow

That is all I have to say.

New Words

Now that I am "free" I have no time! No time to write that is. I am tired. Partially because sleep isn't going so well in this house these days, and partially because I am releasing all the fatigue from a busy and emotional month.

But I did join the gym, and for that I get bonus points! Of course now I have to actually go. And in my current state of fatigue that is going to require 300% more effort than it normally would.

This is the week of second thoughts. I am having second thoughts about the babysitter. Second thoughts about our sleep solutions. I am losing the line between instinct and self-doubt. My career is changing courses, and I have no idea where it is going. Somehow it feels so calm when it should be terrifying me. I don't have any self-doubt about those decisions, but my parenting decisions are feeling hard.

Anise has added a new word to her vocabulary: "dada" to mean "baby". Her other words are:
daa-daa = cookie
daada = daddy
dah-dah = caca (or formally known in public as poo)
dodo = Koji (our dog), and more recently every other animal!

It is a language only I can understand, but it is perfectly clear.

And Anise is starting to walk. I wonder if there is anything else as exciting when it comes to a child's development. It is incredible to watch how it unfolds, and it is teaching me so much more about who she is. I have been attending a Waldorf inspired mom's playgroup (no kids) once a week, so far have only had 2 sessions, given by a former Waldorf instructor. It is a small group of 6 women and is held right around the corner from me. It has been a very inspiring and spiritual experience. Last night we were asked to say in 3 minutes who our child was. It was such an interesting exercise to have to verbalize who (we think) our child is. For me that was an difficult question because I tend to dislike that question. I find people label too easily, and fall into a trap of thinking they know who their child is without leaving room for change. If we label a child as difficult, or picky, then they will become that way. But all children are all things, easy, difficult, sleepless, picky, smart! I described Anise as someone who is not of this earth. The word I chose to use even though is does not reflect my religious beliefs was "heavenly" for lack of a better word. I also said that she was shy and confident, serious and playful, calm and spirited. And she is a gift.

The Universe

is one strange place. Strange things have been happening around here. I quite my job with the only orchestra that hired me. I had to get away from negative energies, but I was giving up nice music and opportunities - a risk I was willing to take. I also decided to put my concert series on hold for the next year or two ( I produce, and play in a Montreal concert series ). Hard but not hard to stop, it wasn't making me happy any more. But it was my way of employing myself when no one else did, and I also got to perform concerts of my dreams. All along my decision-making people would say the usual "good things will come of this, new doors will open", i half believed it just to make myself feel better, but the truth is I didn't care. I have my good things, right here at home. I had no work at all lined up for the future, and strangely enough that relieved me. Then of course I got a job offer - one I didn't see coming. A good offer for one gig in January 2009. but the timing and circumstances of that gig are so weird, almost too perfect, as if orchestrated by someone who was watching my every move. Why is it that when we stop sending out vibes of desperation people start calling? Why do we get things when we don't want them? That somehow doesn't seem fair.

Today I had a recording session all day. I nursed Anise at 9:30 this morning, and she went to bed tonight for the first time with no breast. She has been nursing up a storm lately too, probably teeth, or something, so I was concerned about how the day would go. But everything fell nicely into place. I can finally breathe. And it feels good.

I Will Be Back

I promise. Just getting through this week. As of next Monday I will be officially unemployed (will discuss it more then) but I have had a year's worth of work these past 2 weeks. To my loyal and faithful readers: hang in there please and bear with me! I promise to write wonderful posts in the weeks to come. I will start next week...(or maybe sooner for the lucky checkers).

xo m

The Lottery

When do you stop? Just make a decision that you know is wrong, but do it anyway. Yes, there will be consequences, the "what ifs" and it is all unknown. But I have decided not to apply for those two grants, and simply because I don't want to. There is a reason that will one day come to me in an articulated way, for right now it is just that I don't want to even though I know I "should". I believe that feeling may be coming from someplace wise. Or at least I hope. At worst it means no funding for one year, like all previous years. But there is no guarantee I would get it. In fact there is about a 15% chance I would get it. I could also go play the lottery. By not doing it there is 100% chance I won't get it, but I don't ever play the lottery. Maybe this will free up my head for bigger and better things. And there is one more grant application due in May. That one I can do.

Skeptic

I have been swearing a lot lately. Maybe it is time to stop, otherwise I will have a one year old who says fuck all the time.
It is snowing again. Fuck. I really can't take the winter anymore. Why the hell did people settle here...Of all the places they could have gone.

Last week Anise and I went to our homeopath. I am not a non-believer, BUT, some things do seem soooooo weird. We went because Anise wasn't napping, and I was EXHAUSTED. The symptoms: Anise cries initially when I leave her with the babysitter, then stops (normal), is a late walker (normal), has a preference for cheese and chicken (?), nurses a lot (normal), sometimes pinches my nose (?). Sounds crazy, right?

Well - the day after the remedy was given to me (Anise got it through my milk), she stretched her arms out to the babysitter as I was leaving, and she napped for 45 minutes. Now, one week later she has been in great spirits since last week (much less cranky), still goes happily to babysitter (even waves goodbye) napped yesterday for 1 hour and 20 minutes, still eats cheese and chicken (actually liking cheese a little less). And I have about a trillion times more energy. Some people even pointed out that my writing voice has changed.

So? Coincidence? I think not.

Holding On

I have been falling behind in my writing (and reading). I have been knitting instead. Can't have more than one extracurricular activity...

After almost 2 years without having my period, getting it now feels different. I find myself emotional, it is as if I have forgotten how to handle them, like when I was a teenager. I am trying hard to de-condition myself. After struggling for four years with "infertility" my periods meant much more than a period.

I find myself nostalgic. Anise is changing so fast. I am trying really hard to keep up. Her amazing smile keeps changing. I tried to take mental snapshots of her toothless grin; I knew it would change, and I never caught it on camera quite the way it looked in real life. Now her toothy grin, so expressive, has taken shape, and I have lost the image of her old smile. I tried to hang on but I couldn't. I know I am going to lose so many more of these precious memories.

I am finally exactly where I want to be, and time zooming. Days, weeks are flying by. I wish I could hold on.

I never realized it was possible to be so in love with another person. So interested in every single second. I never knew I would enjoy watching a little hand gracefully pick up a piece of food. The way her tiny fingers wrap around a square of cheese, her hand turns and her mouth opens at just the right time. She is so careful, the food always goes in (except when it is being given to the dog, to my dismay). It is absolutely incredible that by 14 months the world has already been figured out.

I plopped Anise into bed tonight at 7:15, and she went to sleep, she now stays asleep (for those who know me, this is no small feat) and I miss her when she sleeps! Husband and I sometimes spend our newly free evenings looking at pictures of her. And I think of my mother. My mother keeps reminding me that Anise is on loan to me. She isn't mine and I will have to let her go one day. I guess it happens, but I can't imagine how.

Off to knit.

TV

I am a bad mother. I introduced Sesame Street to Anise and I have created a monster. It helped ease the transition with babysitter, they have their TV routine. But now it is time to wean. Have I done damage? Or is it repairable? Where are my principles? I think fatigue has taken over, and tossed out my morals.

I have started sleeping again, and fatigue has taken hold. So strong. Gone is the adrenaline that kept me going. All that is left is a hollow, irritable, tired shell. (Oh, and fat too).

I probably shouldn't post this, but this is why I am writing a blog! To post my inner musings.

But the guilt comes and goes. Sometimes it grips me and is so strong I have to write about it. Other times I can let it go. What is better: wholewheat pasta, or organic pasta? I couldn't find both. So tortured was I that I bought both and mixed them together. Then I felt better.

Close Call

I was getting ready to strike a plan. A networking plan. I would send demo, try to re-audition, go to Toronto for the day to show my face and schmooze...and then my very best friend pointed out that I don't want to travel for work. Oh yeah, I forgot. I got so caught up striving for something I don't want. Why? to prove that I could get it? The competitive-ego-driven-sore-loser in me forgot. I forgot to stop. I have what I want. I freak out at the thought of one local concert, go nuts thinking I have to leave Anise one whole day for rehearsal, I want more kids, and I was going to try to get jobs in Toronto?! Am I nuts? How easily I can lose sight of reality, waste my energy by putting it in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thank goodness for my friend...

Maybe we only get exactly what we want. Nothing more nothing less.

Letting Go

Ok, the jealousy has passed, it has gone. Pushed aside, probably buried where it will no doubt resurface easily. What I have, no one else does. I have my daughter, my husband, my life. I have a daughter who is home with a babysitter, asleep in her crib. A milestone and accomplishment that happened on its own, and has made me both happy and proud. Forget fame, forget fortune, a sleeping baby is worth a million bucks.

I quit my job. My one regular job. I was being pushed out, but I quit before I had to be told to leave. A decision I have been thinking about for years, but haven't had the guts to make. Then the decision was made for me, and now I am free.

I feel like I am floating on ups and downs, things happening without my control, the way it should be. Can I let life take me, can I trust that it will take me where I want to go? I have no choice. But I have the tools now to put things in perspective. One job, one gig, one concert, good or bad. One experience that is not mine, so I can't want it.

So I plod along. No, the world wouldn't miss me, but Anise would, and Husband would, and that is enough.

I have learned when I hit the wall to turn the other way. One thing that distinguishes baroque flute (and other baroque instruments) from modern ones, is that the more you push the less sound you make. Ever notice when you bang on a piano it gets louder? Try banging on a historical piano or a harpsichord, it loses its sound. I have often wondered what that meant for people at the time. Is that a reflection of the way the dealt with life? My teacher used to say in a gentle voice, with a Flemish accent: "don't push".

When I feel I have no options left, instead of pushing I should let go. When my sounds isn't working I put the flute down. I think we are taught to push, to strive, to achieve, to "be strong", and accomplish. And who is happy? That is all that matters. Be gentle. Not fierce. Calm, not wild. Confident, not despondent. I will have to tell myself that a million times, I will have to pick myself up when I fall, because no one else will. But I could imitate. Copy those who have figured it out, be inspired by the people who have it together. Learn from the masters. And I in turn will get to share it one day.

Jealousy

I hate jealousy. It is not me, I don't believe in it. I used to say I wasn't a jealous person, I think I was wrong, I was always jealous I just denied it. The first time I experienced obvious jealousy was during my infertility days. What was different about that jealousy was that I was jealous of people I loved, and for whom I was also happy. I hated myself for feeling that way, it was so hard.

Then there is the professional jealousy. In s competitive a field where there isn't enough work to go around everyone feels it; jealous when other people get work. It is so bad that it sometimes becomes irrational. I am jealous of people who get work that I wouldn't even want, just because it is work.

When I moved back to Montreal from France there weren't very many flute players here. I wasn't that threatened, but it was much harder than I thought to find work. People were "loyal" to their old pals even if they were lousy flute players. Still, I thought, if they want their buddies more than a good player then it is their problem. My teacher said to me "play well and you will find work". So I thought I would create my own work, and show people that I play well. It still wasn't enough work, but became enough once Anise was born.

Last year a new (good) flute player came to town. She is getting all the work I never got. I can try to come up with reasons why. Maybe she was at the right place at the right time. Maybe people like her better. Maybe maybe maybe, it doesn't matter why. And the jealousy hurts. It is so strong it is physical. Last night I went to a concert. On the drive there I was so happy, everything at home is falling into place. Anise slept through the night, I put her to bed myself , she was happy with the babysitter, and she napped on her own. I couldn't have felt better, I have been struggling with these things for so long. It felt good to get out, I would be seeing my friends.

And there she was, the new flute player, a nice girl. I even really like her and I enjoy playing with her. I was already a bit jealous, but I could still handle it. But then I found out more. More jobs she has gotten that means I will never get. And it hit me: I want to quit. Quit playing, quit this profession, I want to find something else to do. Something that will make me happy. I want to take pride in something without the jealousy. I am tired of always feeling left out, I was left out in school all my life. Now I feel left out of this music community too. I wonder how much I exaggerate and how much is real. I wonder if I should keep plodding along in the hopes that I will find my place. How long can I wait? When do I give up? How do I do it, how do I make this career happen? I can't now. Especially not if I want more children. What decisions do I have to make right now? I have to decide if I should plan another season of concerts. The pros: I get to play. The cons: I have to produce, apply for grants, come up with ideas, hire people, pay for it, advertise myself, print the programmes, make the brochures etc. I used to love that part. Now I find the pressure too much to bear, and it is ruining the pleasure.

I don't want this jealousy. If I can't handle it then I have to get out. But how? I feel weighed down and burdened but this talent which keeps holding on to me. I would not be happy without my flute. But I just don't know how to make it happen. I knew how to when I was a student. I got to the top. I went all the way to Belgium to get there, and then once there I made it happen, I learned how to play. I got high marks, which meant I was good by my teachers' standards, and that was no easy feat. And here I am miserable. And I should be happy. I have my baby and all is well.

What a mistake it was to go to that concert. I should have stayed home and watched tv. People should not be out when it is colder than -20 degrees Celsius anyway...

Brain Dead

Grants are due soon. I thought this time I would start early. I always say that, and I always leave it to the last minute. Now that I am forced to be more structured with my work (since I have the babysitter only 3 mornings per week) I thought it would be easier to focus. People ask me how I find balancing a career and baby, and the funny thing is I feel like I don't balance anything. I feel like I am not fully here and not fully there. I feel like I am just scraping by. I basically don't work much, and then when I have to, I wing it. It is as if my creative juices have run dry. I am missing time to think. This is the first time in my life that I am busy. I used to have too much time, which is not a good thing either, not being busy can suck out energy too.

So here I am, busy, trying to come up with interesting programs for next year, instead all I come up with is that the world doesn't need another concert. Sometime I wish that all I had to worry about was Anise and domestic issues. Wishing for something that I know I could have, I have the fortune of not depending financially on my work, yet knowing that would leave me unsatisfied. If not now, then later.

I also find myself dreaming up other career possibilities. Maybe starting a new business, doing crafts, finding that perfect job...What is my perfect job? I have no idea. I think my perfect job would be getting hired as a flute player, but hired with the best groups, some touring (not too much), and artistic control! Sounds a bit like what I do, except that I don't get funding so I waste my time on grant applications, sometimes I don't get a big enough audience, and I feel generally like I am not getting the validation I would like. So in other words, I am dissatisfied with the way my career is going. Could it change? Maybe. Could I make it change? I am not sure if it will just have to go on its own, whether one day I will be at the right place at the right time. When pushing too hard has the opposite effect, it is best to just stop. If the energy we put out is desperate energy people feel it, and generally nothing good comes of it. Which is why things have to happen on their own, in their own time. Sometimes it can be long. Right now it feels long. But I have other worries, like naps! And babysitters! All which seem much much more important.

No Nap Part III

I am in trouble. After what feels like a long time, but is really about 1 week, we have not gotten very far. Last night we did a real "cry-it-out" session with Anise in the middle of the night. She cried hard for 30 min, and 5 min later another round of almost 30 min. The rest of the night was ok. This morning I left Anise with babysitter, and after one and a half hours of constant crying I got called back. This afternoon I let her cry without going in her room (this was a first) for her nap (for which she was desperate because there was no morning nap), she cried for 35 min and then fell asleep, only to eake up 20 minutes later. So the "crying-it-out" philosophy isn't working, and the poor girl has been crying it out for most of the week.

All I could think of in the middle of the night was that this goes against everything that I believe. then I think of the plastic piano and I remember that I don't have to have beliefs about child raising, because all of my beliefs came from a time when I didn't have children, and didn't know.

My friend suggested that had I let her continue crying after she woke up from her nap (I did for 15 min) then she would have eventually fallen back asleep. Not true. I know my daughter. I took her for a walk right after that, hoping she would at least catch up on some sleep, but she never slept. if she could keep herself up on a walk, she could sure as hell keep herself up in her crib. Plus how long can a baby stay in her crib? At this point, we are both losing out on life. this nap saga has taken over, and it is time to get back to seeing the world.

The problem is, every time we try to change a habit, we lose the old way of getting her to sleep without gaining a new one.

I don't know what the hell to do.

New Nap Part II

I am not going to go into the mundane details of the naps. Even though that is what has been consuming me this past week. Did she nap, where, when, and for how long. A whole life can be focused around naps. Since the first day (Tuesday) when she cried for 45 min and then fell asleep, she hadn't fallen asleep again in her crib until today. Both times were after parties and she was exhausted. The problem is that Anise doesn't know how to just fall asleep. Some other times she cried and eventually stopped, but decided to play instead - which is fine - except that she needs to sleep. She has been really pale, and beyond exhausted, but her stubbornness seems to be taking precedence over sleepiness. Her spirits have been good though! And she has been entertaining us the past few days.

Which brings me to this: principles.

I thought I had them. I have learned to let go of them. With principles comes judgment, and prejudice.

For example, before having a child of my own I had decided that we would not own any plastic toys. All of Anise's favourite toys are plastic. And they make a lot of noise. And they play dumb music. But she LOVES the things, and when I say love, I mean can play by herself at a plastic, garish, obnoxious table that sort of looks like a cartoon of a piano, which is over-stimulating, has blaring lights, and a smiley sun that makes you want to vomit, for HOURS. So it is now embraced into my household, and is officially on my list of things I am glad we bought.

Look What I Got

Thanks Jena!

The New Nap

We don't think when we have a baby that it is possible for a baby to take care of us. After Anise was born, my body was literally coming apart at the seams. A week after my bigger than average cesearian, I discovered I had a broken rib. The medication they gave me for the rib gave me an allergic reaction, I was seriously sick to my stomach, and the next day I broke out in hives. The day after that my incision began to reopen. I could barely walk, I was having drenching night sweats, and I was in unbearable pain breastfeeding. I have never been sick before, and was never expecting to be like this after giving birth. I was so frustrated, angry, and disappointed. And Anise took care of me. She was calm, gentle, and she slept. She communicated as she looked at me with wise eyes. She smiled. She played by herself. She was content for hours on her little chair while we had nice calm dinners. She had a four hour stretch of sleep every night when we needed it most. She waited until I was back on my feet to challenge me, and then did it gradually!

Today Anise took care of me. Just when we were at our lowest: Husband was sick all weekend with excruciating pain, (after 2 months of non-stop work, one and a half weeks of vacation spent in bed sick, 2 months of little sleep) he could no longer function, and I (as was obvious from my latest posts) was fraught with anxiety about everything possible, plus we had to do the dreaded "sleep training".

Our babysitter canceled today (I have to admit I was relieved), so I decided to tackle the naps. No more excuses. She cried VERY hard for 40 minutes. I stayed with her, tried to lie her down when she stood up. She didn't seem tired enough, and she was MAD, I was sure this would never work. Then something extraordinary happened. I cried. As soon as Anise saw me cry she stopped crying. She looked at me, her eyes wide with amazement. She stared at me, and then she listened. I told her she had to go to sleep, by herself, in her crib. I told her I understood that this was difficult for her, that it was new and different, but that it would be good for her. She watched me cry, and then she fell asleep. She slept for an hour. Her reaction to my crying was really amazing, I never would have expected it. I am sure she is an angel, sent from somewhere...

Thank you again, cyber friends, for your encouragement and support.

Soft

Anise is cranky, I'm cranky. I feel lousy, she feels lousy. Is it her teeth? Or the separation, or my own anxiety and insecurities that I have passed on? I was nervous for her two days ago when Lenda came. I was putting on a fake happy face, trying to convince her that everything was ok, she didn't fall for it. I know I should stay neutral, and I am trying to control my emotions, but I can't. Monday I will just leave. Everybody is telling me that the babysitter thing is a good thing, that it is good for her, good for me, that being happy and relaxed, and focusing on other things will make me a better mother. Is that really true? Or does that just make us all feel better, because really we know the best thing for a baby is to be with its mother. She isn't four, or three, or even two, and ready for any independence. She isn't even walking. I can try to convince myself that doing something for me is indirectly doing something good for her, but that is just bullshit. I haven't lost it, I don't resent her, I am not going crazy. The only thing suffering is the house, dinner, and my so-called career. I know people do it all the time, I know other people go to work full time, but that doesn't make me feel better, it doesn't make Anise feel better.

Maybe I am inventing this whole scenario, and really it is her teeth bothering her, and she will be just fine with Lenda once her teeth come in (she is getting new top teeth). I am just so afraid that I am changing her from a happy relaxed child to an anxious, needy child.

I am feeling weepy. Stressed out, lost, and tearful. Too many changes I am not ready for them, and I can't make them happen. Sleep has been a disaster the past three days. Anise slept through the night three days ago and we were hopeful and optimistic; everyone and everything is on the mend. Not so. Now we have to take drastic measures because this lack of sleep is affecting all of our lives. No more excuses (teething, illness, stress, separation). But I am weak, and I am soft. I am what some might call "over sensitive", is that a bad thing? I am not comfortable with Anise's crying, I need to help her and listen to her when she cries. I need to be there and comfort her, because it comforts me.

When Anise was born she never cried. In her first three months of life I can count how many times she cried for longer than 30 seconds (about 4 times). I didn't stifle her, she was very relaxed, happy and expressive. She also slept really well. I never had the chance to get desensitized to the sound of her cry, but maybe one never does. That is why now when she cries I feel somehow that it is my fault. I feel this is all my fault, her attachment, her sleep problems. I know there are bigger problems out there in the world. I know we are lucky, Anise is lucky, and all is good. I feel stupid for feeling this way, for creating problems when there are none. I am making a big deal out of nothing. But it all feels like shit, and nobody is getting any sleep.

Babysitter part II

Well, today did not go that well. I left Anise with Babysitter while Husband was in bed resting. My plan was to go for on hour. I didn't leave my phone number, or worry too much because Husband was home. Little did I know he was so sick he was practically hallucinating, and so he didn't realize that I wasn't there while Anise cried hard the whole time I was gone. I took my time and was more like and hour and twenty minutes. Bad plan. Anise was mad and wouldn't let go of me the whole rest of the day. What if she never gets used to this?

I was really mad at myself. I have never been as angry at myself as I have been this year. It is a strange emotion, almost stronger than regret. It is this feeling that I have been put in a double bind, I am forced to make a decision and I have nothing to go on. I can't do research, I can't consult experts, and I can barely follow my instinct. So when I feel that I made the "wrong" decision, I get really mad. Such a useless emotion and reaction. I couldn't have known, and I had to take a chance.

After the anger subsided I read the comments that were posted from yesterday's post, and that uplifted me. Without the support of my cyber friends I could never do this. Thank you for your words of wisdom. I trust you, and I know you are right.

I was looking forward to the babysitter starting, and I just wish I didn't have to feel so lousy, and that it wasn't so hard...

Babysitter

So the new babysitter starts officially tomorrow. I have hired her three half days a week, Monday form 1 - 6, Tuesday 9 - 12, and Wednesday from 1 - 6. I am nervous about her starting. She has come twice with me home, and I don't know if, or for how long, I should leave her alone. Anise seems to like her, she is very gentle and has a way with kids. But I know Anise knows that she is a babysitter, and I can't help but feel I am betraying her a little bit.

In Canada women get one year maternity leave. It is terrific, and after one year I feel ready to slowly start piecing together my career. But Anise is at an age where even though I have hardly left her, and when I do I leave her with my mom, she is afraid I am going to leave. Prime age for separation anxiety, and I will be reinforcing it by leaving.

My goal with the babysitter is to get stuff done in the house, food shop, cook, have some time to myself, and work. Yes, all reasonable things to want, but I am nervous, and I cannot envision this working. It is probably better if I just get out of the house and let the babysitter do her job. When I am around Anise gets clingy. I think the idea that I might leave is worse for her than if I actually leave. But it just feels wrong.

I feel I should follow my instinct, but I don't know what that is anymore. I guess my instinct got me to hire a babysitter in the first place, but now my instinct is telling me that I will be putting Anise through unnecessary stress. Maybe 3 days was too much?

It just feels like everything is too stressful. Husband finally has time off but he is sick and getting sicker. It feels like there is no respite. No stopping. No place to breathe. No coincidence that I have been having bad asthma.

At least my teeth are clean.

Teeth

It has been four days now and I have flossed my teeth every night...

What a concept, commit to simple achievable things, and do it! How great one feels (because it is all about virtue and accomplishment, and of course self-righteousness)!!

Remember

I received my second copy of Momma Zen. I read my first copy a couple of months ago, 7 months to be exact, and I read it so quickly that I forgot most of the details. So I am rereading it. I will write about it as I read it so that it sticks better in my mind. Because Momma Zen speaks my mind. It is the truth, it is wisdom, it is my belief system- it is everyone's. Yet I forget. Over and over again, I forget what this book is trying to teach me.

I am a baroque flute player. A professional musician. I studied with the best baroque flutist in the world, the man who was responsible for the revival of this old instrument that was played from about 1700 until about 1900, but varied greatly in between. He is almost unsurpassed in his abilities, which is rare, usually each generation gets better than the next. But not him; he gets better and better himself. Because he is humble, and he learns from everything and everyone, including his students. I studied with him in Brussels for four years, which is considered a long time. I noticed something after two years of taking lessons at least once a week, and listening in on many more: there were only about three different lessons. The rest were repeats. He said the same thing over and over and over again. But it took me three years to get it, and then one year to perfect it, and then he let me go. From there I flew.

I take the same lessons from Momma Zen, and from Cheerio Road almost every day. It is the same thing over and over. I know it, but I don't do it. With my flute practice it was physical. It was about breathing. It was about letting go. And it was about listening and loving every single note I produced. First, I prepare my breath, drop the bottom of my diaphragm. Then I breathe in the first note. As I play I must relax my fingers and my body, and then I must prepare every note before it comes out, and find the center, the resonance of each note that I play. Because every note has its core, even in a fast passage, I must find it. All this is technical, it doesn't require talent, or interpretation, or "understanding" the music. It is not about having something to say. It is about giving the music its life.

Parenting, and living, is the same. I must remember to breathe, I must relax my body, and I must love life, this life, my life, and cherish each second. This doesn't impede on any artistic interpretation. Nor does it mute our own personality. It doesn't even always work, because sometimes we forget. But that is ok. We all have bad concert days, we are human.

But the key is remembering.

This is my New Year's resolution.

Sick

Husband is sick. Baby is sick. I am getting sick, and have now been going on 5 days of no sleep. Why is life so predictable? Just as baby starts to sleep through the night and go to sleep early, just as we got our evenings back, Husband has to work late. Just as we get a break we all get sick. Now we are back to square one.

Oh well, there is something nice about being cliché.

It doesn't feel like a new year today. It will next week.