Category Archives: Musings

Infertility. Illustration Project, Part 1.

Infertility is an awful thing. It’s a beast, that grows all that bigger because it’s hush-hush. People don’t talk about it. People label you. People misunderstand what you’re going through.

I had a very brief run-in with this beast. I did have problems and did have fears, but my problems got resolved with (relatively) minor invasion. Relative to what so many women have to go through – like surgeries, multiple IVFs, injections, procedures, and so much more.

While I was still out there, immersed in uncertainty as to how long will it take me to get pregnant (IF I will be able to get pregnant), I started reading blogs. Numerous blogs of other women fighting with the same beast. For some the beast turned out to be rather small, like mine. For others, they were (and still are) ugly multi-headed creatures with bloody fangs.

Not to mention my real-life friends whom I’ve watched dealing with the beast for months and years.

Even as I got pregnant and gave birth to my healthy boy, and celebrated his first birthday – I didn’t stop following the blogs of those remarkable women. So strong. So fragile.

This topic has been with me for the past years on almost daily basis. And that’s why, when I had to choose a subject for my illustration project, I knew immediately that this was going to be my theme: infertility.

Now, this blog isn’t about infertility, nor is it about illustration, but I feel the need to share it with you.

Here’s the first frame (out of three) for my themed project “infertility” (which I also posted on my illustration/creativity blog):

This woman has just found out that yet again, after so many attempts, she’s still not pregnant… or maybe that she’s infertile and will never be able to conceive… or maybe she has just discovered she had an early miscarriage… she is paralyzed. She is defined now by this emptiness, this void, this disability that is cocooning her from the world around her.

Scheduled love life – all bad?

“Love life after having kids sucks…it either gets scheduled – or seizes to exist”

I hear this a lot. Hear, read – everyone’s saying that.

But, really, what’s so new about scheduling your love life? Does it have to be a bad thing?

Think.

Think back to when you were dating. When you had dates. When you used to have butterflies in your belly, waiting for that Friday night date. You loved it. It was amazing.

Well, I call that scheduled love life. You went about your own life on Wednesday-Thursday-Friday, excitedly expecting the scheduled Friday night date.

So what’s changed? What’s standing in your way to make your “scheduled activities” exciting again? Put a fresh shirt on. Shave (both men and women). Get a new dress. Whether you choose to go out or stay in – it’s only up to you to make it a real date. Just like it used to be.

No?..

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Parenting Decisions

I recently posted a comment on a fellow blogger’s post about cloth diapers. I guess she got offended (she quietly deleted it), and in all truth I probably was too harsh – that’s the side of me that I truly hate: when I am under stress, my filters stop working. I can say things that are much too direct and bare – and then regret it. Well, with Timothy starting daycare, I guess my stress level went over the top.

Regardless. That’s not really an excuse.

What I wrote was that I get very impatient with all this media hysteria about using cloth diapers, co-sleeping, baby-wearing, nursing until kindergarten, never letting a baby cry, and so on.

Now what I probably failed to mention is that I personally don’t have anything against it – if it works for people, great! I have no problem with that, to each their own. I am still happily nursing.

What I do have a problem with is the pressure and the hysteria. The “in”. It’s so “in” to wear cloth-diapered babies. People who happily use formula, disposable diapers and so often feel forced to explain themselves: “well, I admire your [whatever] I wish I could do this”. Although most of them don’t. They just feel the pressure to say such things.

I think – to each their own. And there is nothing wrong with other choices, either.

All in all, I feel that this hysteria was brought by the mounting sense of guilt in a society that sends its babies to daycare at 6 weeks old. People – as a whole – seek ways to compensate for that.

And I think this hysteria is hurting those who would love to, but cannot nurse. Or wear babies. Or co-sleep. For whatever reasons.

What do you think, regardless of your personal preferences?

On the Other Hand…

As Timothy is getting older, less reliant on me, I am more and more inclined to uncover my true self from under piles of spitup, breastfeeding sessions, diaper changes, nap schedules, and such.

One of the things that I sort of lost is my creativity. I used to draw and paint a lot. Over the years, there was less and less of that, and that made me sad. So my 2013 resolution is to recapture, rediscover my creativity.

To document this self-rediscovery journey, I started a separate blog – follow me if you wanna… well, follow 🙂 http://whereismycreativity.wordpress.com

Let the Crying Begin

And so it begins.

As I was watching Timothy crawl around at the local drop-in today, something clenched my heart and I almost started crying. When he flashed me a wide smile and crawled towards me, I hugged him very tightly, fighting with emotions.

Next Friday he starts daycare, full-time. The three days leading into it will be his transition. I can’t push the thought of it aside any longer.

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He won’t be by my side all day long anymore. I won’t be able to hug him and feel his warm little body, smell his hair, see his smile any time I want to.

He woke up from his second nap today, all smiles and babbles, happily slapping my cheeks – and I grabbed him and hugged him and kissed him. And cried. And cried. Hiding from him.

This is hard. Really, really hard.

I am Torn

It started. Yesterday, I cried with the realization of the impending daycare start.

You know, people used to ask me – how do you feel about it, are you ready? And I would shrug a bit and – honestly! – say that yes, I think I am ready, I am fairly certain Timothy will be fine and I need to reclaim a bit of myself. And they would give me a strange look, making me wonder whether they think me a bad mother – or a liar.

Well.

Turns out that while I was imagining this daycare start in my head, I was – quite purposely, I believe – sort of thinking of how I sometimes put Timothy to bed in the evening and go out. Which, I all of a sudden realized, is nothing like starting daycare. Cause while I will be away, Timothy won’t be sleeping. He will be playing, learning, laughing, smiling, crawling… he will be doing new things – and I won’t be able to see those firsts. He will turn around and I won’t be in the room. Will he be scared? Will his world shake?

I am torn. On the one hand, I am fairly certain he’ll be fine. I watched him play, I watched him in new environments, I did leave him with people other than hubby and I – he was totally fine.

On the other, I know that the earlier they start daycare, the less of a shock it is to them. Or so I’ve read. The more they grow, the more they get used to the way things are and the harder it is to adjust to something new. Even for their immune systems, I was told starting daycare later might be much harder, with many more illnesses…

On the other (third?) hand – it hurts me, it pains me, to imagine seeing him for only a couple of hours in the evening, at most…

Huh. Well, there you go. It looks like I am being selfish?! I hate the thought of daycare not because I worry about Timothy, really, but because I feel sad? How perverted, confused, and weird… No wonder I resorted to a few teardrops yesterday.

This is hard. Really, really hard.

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Bittersweet Moments

Sorry for being so quiet – we were away for 10 days, celebrating Christmas and New Year with the family.

Just before leaving, I received an email from soon to be Timothy’s daycare. It left me somewhat shocked. “Transition period…three days before the first daycare day…starting on…please bring…”

What?? Is there less than 1.5 months left???

As I write these words, there’s less than a month left. A year ago, maternity leave seemed vast and endless. I have never not worked for a whole year (not that I’d call motherhood “not working” :)) And now… now it’s almost over.

How sad.

We went to our early years program this morning. I was confused enough to arrive so late that we only got to spend half an hour there. This was Timothy’s first time there as a crawler – and he loved this new experience! He crawled around, played with all the new toys, looked excitedly at all the babies – and moms – around him, clapped hands, and laughed a lot. Such a sweet little darling.

My heart sang watching him. My heart ached watching him. All too vividly I was able to imagine him in daycare, crawling around the room, with other babies, clapping hands… and me not being there to see him grow. Maybe even miss his first steps…

I am fairly certain he’ll love daycare. He’s an independent, confident, strong little guy. He has an occasional clinging bout, but all in all – ever since he figured out crawling – he’s become so self-sufficient. And so happy about it.

I am proud of him. I am sad. Such a huge chapter is coming to an end. My baby is getting near to becoming a toddler. So bittersweet.

I love you Timothy. I hope you’ll love daycare.

This is not a today's picture - this is Timothy with his cousins; but it fits the content well enough :)

This is not a today’s picture – this is Timothy with his cousins; but it fits the content well enough 🙂