As the chilly winds have washed over central Texas, so has a new personality over Lucy.
She is quirky, funny, alert, and sweet. She smiles with her eyes – just like Mom. She loves to stand up, dance, and caress peoples’ faces. Her favorite food is bananas mixed with anything. She’s lovely and fun to be around.
We have a routine down, and that has helped with my feelings of disconnect (see previous entry) and loneliness. She wakes around 7:30am, and after a bottle and being tucked in bed next to me, she curls up by my side and takes another nap while I try to do the same. Our mornings are my favorite.
Here are some pictures for my Awkward Balloon followers:
We’ve all seen the Facebook posts from new mothers talking about how in love they instantly were after they had their babies. When I finally held her in my arms, I felt a deep sense of detachment. Where were the unicorns and rainbows shooting from her butt?
They don’t tell you that it doesn’t always spontaneously sweep over you. It was almost as if we swung by the bus stop and picked up this tiny stranger.
Being a Mom hasn’t come naturally to me. I wasn’t connected or bonded immediately. I had to spend time with her, lose sleep with her, and learn how to make her laugh.
The first time I felt like a mother was when she was crying so hard she lost her breath, and when I swept her up in my arms, she immediately collapsed and cooed, silence. I finally felt that connection you read about when I realized that she NEEDED me – something I haven’t ever felt in my life. Someone genuinely depends on my existence for their happiness … That is motherhood.
And so I sit here with a soundly sleeping baby girl in the bassinet to the right of me. There are moments where I stare at her, wondering if she knows that I struggle with the worthiness and attachment of motherhood. In troubling moments of no-sleep or days when everything hurts from bending over a bathtub the wrong way, I usually find her smiling.
All she really knows is that I’m the only sense of home she has ever felt. Whether inside my belly or in my arms, I am her comfort, I am her safe place … and all I really know is that she is mine.
They say that when you’re a mom, your former self goes out the window – soon replaced by a self-sacrificing, deprecating, version of who you used to be. Feeling that lately.
What they don’t tell you is that you’ll resent it. I have lost touch with the “old” me, and that is depressing. I try and write and nothing comes out – my head is filled with thoughts of laundry piling up on the couch, my post-pregnancy body, and the deep sense that I’m not wanted – just barely needed.
Sigh. I can’t sleep. Up in my own thoughts and exhausted.
I need to feel like myself again, I need to feel that overwhelming sense of love. I’m actively searching.
They don’t tell you that motherhood can be lonely … Nope, the books skip right over that.
If any of my faithful followers have checked in on me recently, you’re probably a little confused and trying to play catch up with some big changes in my life. I haven’t written much about … well, anything lately. I try to remember to post pictures, but days pass by somewhat quickly now. I suppose there’s not much to write about when you’re happy, right?
So let’s see … where did I leave off … Oh, right, I had a baby.
4:30 in the morning, on September 4th, 2013. But of course, it began somewhere.
A mini nursery tour for friends and family who have asked. Still a lot of decorating/sorting to get done. Also, one of me and another of my two furry children who are getting so big.
“… Yes, to know her is to love her.”
Lucy (Lucille) (thinking “Mae” or “Lynne”) Jones
During my last ultrasound, the tech, my sister, and I, began laughing, and then Lucy smiled on screen. So perfect.
Starting to realize that the worst part about growing up isn’t that your friends scatter – distance is fixable. It’s that they change, usually into people you barely recognize. Therefore, the people you knew to exist, well, die.
OR – is it that with age we become smarter, more observant – and because of that, become more aware of their true identities, traits, and behaviors?
Rather, the things that frustrate you about this person, were maybe things you never saw until you took a step back … But they’ve always been the same. It’s hard to tell if something’s an an asshole if your face is too close, you know. You can quote me on that, I know I’m brilliant.
There’s a follow up entry coming, but Roxy (and Lucy) needs to eat breakfast. Much later.
(the same ol’ Dani)
I’m aware I haven’t written anything of substance lately. Mostly fluff about my relationship or decorating my house, which I know isn’t interesting to 99.9% of you. And so … I will write something else.
Central Texas weather this time of year is lovely. It ranges between 70-80ish degrees most of the time, no rain, and always a breeze. I’m considering it payback for the 100+ degree, humid weather we had when I moved here (absolutely miserable). I’m enjoying each day as we get it.
Most people start conversations about the weather because they don’t want to share about anything else, or they have nothing to offer up.
There are times I find myself beyond lonely here. My friends and family are all divided between two cities (OKC, OK and KC, MO), and after losing my job, the prospect of traveling seems impossible – and the thought of driving 10 hours exhasts me. Don’t get me wrong, Tyson is an amazing best friend and boyfriend – we spend most of our time laughing and experiencing new things … but I need to get out of this house and find a niche somewhere.
I might try art classes at the civic center, or even auditing a class I’m interested in at the local college. My hope is that I’ll meet some people to hang out with. Ah, I sound so ridiculous.
I should get off of here and have a glass of wine and curl up in my new bed
Right after I burned it.
Yep, it hurts. Really, really badly. Ty wraps and puts cream on it 2 times a day to fight infection. Because it’s so deep, it will take 3-5 weeks to heal. Today I’m getting artificial skin placed on parts of it because … well, I have none, and apparently skin is important.
This turned out to be the most expensive roast I’ve ever made. Another sigh.
Seeing Ty off to work and going back to sleep. I haven’t been doing much of that lately, I need it.
Oh, right. In case you’re wondering: hot grease from searing a roast before putting it in the crockpot. Yep. All over my hand. I’m ridiculous.