My Dear Son,

You have had a difficult time nursing this last weekend...I had assumed that it was simply the company. Victor is just a few weeks younger than you, and the two of you spent lots of time playing. Distractions like having fun make even me and Daddy forget to eat sometimes.

But this morning while we were playing, I stuck my finger in your mouth...My Son, you have a tooth cutting through! I hardly would have guessed it since you haven't been complaining. Once again, I'm awed in how wonderful you are. You just take everything in stride, it seems.

My Dear Son,

Today you discovered that you are mobile. You rolled across the floor to reach one of your lions. And then, you lay on the floor, looking at me and laughing gleefully in your discovery.

I suppose it is only a matter of time before I regret your ability to get around, but for now I'm laughing with you, cheering you on. It's a step of independence for both of us. Maybe we should go and have some peach puffs to celebrate.

My Dear Son,

How have six weeks slipped past? Where did they go? There has been so much going on that trying to write it down has been pretty much impossible...

We went on our first family vacation at my childhood vacation home over Memorial Day week. It was kind of strange going back - I haven't been up there in almost ten years and so much had changed - but there was a sense of the circle I hadn't really felt since you were born. Some of the same pictures I took of you, my parents took of me. I hope we can spend more time up there soon.

I'm not sure if it was the five days away from home, or the fact that when we got home it was under construction with the roof being torn off, but you have been very clingy the last week or so. You will play contentedly by yourself for a while, but often look for me or you Dad, giving us great big grins when you spot us. And you cuddle more...which makes Daddy and me both mushy.

Your Aunt Sherry made you a beautiful fuzzy blanket, and you seem to have promptly adopted it as a favorite. It's hard to tell just yet if it will stick as a "blankie" just yet, though.

Meals continue to be one of your favorite times of the day. So far, I don't think there are any foods you've really turned your nose up at, but you really like yogurt and puffs. Graham crackers have been another favorite snack lately. The most exotic thing you've eaten so far is a Garam Masala stew, and you loved it.

*soft smile* This is sounding more like a report on you rather than a letter to you. Life has been crazy lately...between Daddy's work and the house, I have felt reduced to lists to make sure that everything gets done. I hope that it eases up soon! That way we will feel freer to have more playtime!

I love you!

My Dear Son,

You have been eating SOLIDS for the last three weeks. You are so excited by the experience, but you are smart smart smart. Lately, you are not satisfied with mashed banana or sweet potato...you want what Mommy is eating! There is no fooling you, either. I have started to make a big show of tearing off a piece of pancake or taking something off my plate to placate you. Then you are content. But today...

*sigh* I decided on mac and cheese. I knew you would complain, so I grabbed a spoonful of noodles before adding all the dairy you aren't supposed to be ready for and cooled them, but you wanted nothing to do with them. They were big and sticky and couldn't POSSIBLY be what I had in my bowl! You just weren't convinced. So, you yelled at me and I gulped lunch and our day moved on.

I am hopeful, however, that maybe you will be as enthusiastic about Mommy's food when it comes to trying ethnic flavors.

My Dear Son,

No one ever told me that motherhood would be easy. I had my daydreams, but I also knew about the hazards and have been trying to keep things under control. You are such a good kid - you are cheerful and fun...of course you have times when you are frustrated and cry, but that's how it should be.

But I have been having more and more trouble keeping my emotions balanced. I have a lot of depression issues on both sides of my family, so I finally gave in and called the doctor. My appointment was for today...I got in, got a prescription that was okay while nursing and the recommendation to find a counselor through the hospital.

After talking to two people at the hospital, they think I might be a danger to you or to me. I'm going to try to work with the program, but already there are a lot of things about it that I want no part of. They want me to stay for a while, or at the very least, they want me to spend 7 hours a day away from you. They want to give me a lot of drugs and give up nursing you. They being a concerned intake officer, not an actual doctor.

My Son, I love you so much! No one doubts that. The hospital is just worried that my body chemistry is so far out of wack that I might do something I don't want to do. Which, I suppose I am...I don't want to do the hospital thing AT ALL...but I'm going to go and try to talk to the doctor again today. I would like help, just not what they are offering. I'm going to try to get them to see my way.

I am sure that there will be other times in your life when I get unbalanced. I have been dealing with it since I was in fourth grade. More importantly, I want you to know that it is not your fault. Yes, you have turned my world upside down, but it's not your fault.

Never was the world so new
As when I look at you.
So small, so empty,
Waiting to be filled
With milk
With song
With cuddles
With joy

Wonderment sparkles
Excitement flashes
Laughter erupts
And all I did was smile at you

My Dear Son,

I am often asked how we spend our days. Sometimes I wonder myself. We have been together for five months now, and we have a bit of a pattern started.

You wake up between 7 amd 7:30 in the morning. Most mornings, I lay in bed, barely daring to breathe, and listen to you sing and talk. If I peek, you are usually playing with your lovey or with the corner of your blanket. I wonder what it is you are "saying"...you are obviously happy, but are you talking about your dreams last night, or your hopes for the day, or are you saying "I know you're awake mom, please come get me so we can nurse!"

We change you and nurse, and if we are in time, we will make lunch for your dad and eat some breakfast with him before he takes off for work. If not, I'll take a bit more time getting myself dressed and grab a bowl of cereal while you play on your butterfly mat. If I'm lucky, you are entertained enough that I can check my e-mail and double-check where we are going that day. We change and nurse again. Then it's a dash to pack the diaper bag, the toys, my snack, and you...

From day to day, our destination is different. Book Babies, CradleTalk, a local playgroup, a 2-mile walk... You love watching other kids play and really like the active song-n-dance stuff at the programs. Afterwards, we change and nurse.

The afternoons are much looser. We usually come home around 1 pm and I get lunch. There's a change and nurse session. Then, we'll play for a while, and work on laundry or cleaning or general pick-up. We change and nurse. By 4 pm, you get a little antsy. If I'm not paying complete attention to you, you fuss. It's hard. I start looking forward to when your dad is coming home, so I can get a break and get my hands back...

When your dad comes home, he swings you up and plays with you for a few minutes before taking you up to change and then gives you a bottle. I finish making our dinner and then you are generally content enough for us to eat together. Then we walk until you are tired, and we read a book, sing a song, and then you go to sleep, usually between 7:30 and 8 pm.

While I often feel I don't accomplish much, we are very busy every day. Thus, time flies...

My Dear Son,

When your dad and I got married, we were asked when we were going to have kids. "Not until we're done with school," we'd reply. Then we graduated, and we were asked when we were going to have kids. "Not until we have jobs," we answered. Then we both got jobs and we were asked when we were going to have kids. "Not until we own a house," we answered. And then we bought a house and we were asked when we were going to have kids.

My pat answer was "Not until we are out of debt..." but with student loans and a mortgage and some credit card carry-over, getting out of debt was a bit unrealistic a time-frame. So, we decided to make the leap and you were conceived. I settled for eliminating the credit card debt by the time you were born.

Two weeks before you were born, I made the last payment to zero out our credit cards. I was ecstatic! We had done it!

For the next twelve weeks, I learned about motherhood and accepted the rightfully earned maternity leave paychecks from my work while your dad plugged away at his job. On January 15th, I got my very last check from work...

And now, I am struggling to figure out how to run the household and balance our budget on a single income. There is a saying..."Today's luxuries become tomorrow's necessities." It is very true. I cannot imagine giving up Internet access - that's how I communicate with the world and find fun things to do with you! I suppose I could give up my phone, but we don't have a landline and I DO use the phone enough to "justify" keeping it. Same with having my own car. I already clip coupons and shop sales and second hand stores...

I'm scared and worried and it sucks. I keep telling myself that there IS a way. There will have to be some sacrifices, and we will find them and make them. Money is only money, after all. We can work hard and get more...but we can never get more time spent with you. The sacrifice is worth every penny.

My Dear Son,

The weather today was pretty yucky...It was just warm enough that the snow was wet and slushy, and it was very slippery out. I decided we were just going to hang out at home today. Of course, by 4 o'clock, we were both a little worn out with amusing ourselves... I ended up turning on the television while we nursed and happened to catch the last hour of "Dragonfly". At the end, the Indian Medicine Woman explained that she couldn't save the woman's body, but she did save her soul... Her child.

My Son, maybe you won't understand until you have a child yourself, but our children ARE our souls incarnate, to hold and to love as we have always wanted ourselves.

Of course, right NOW you want my attention and are rather annoyed with me typing...I just wanted to remember...and to tell you how much I love you.

My Dear Son,

Before you were born, I started a drum circle and made many good friends because of it.
Last night, you met some of them at your first drum circle. Your dad even helped you drum...you preferred to drum with your feet than with your hands, though.

There are a few lessons about drumming that I have learned.

First, you have to listen. Listen to your heart, listen to your fellows drum, listen to the whole. If you do not listen, you will not be able to build with the group and in fact, your efforts could throw everyone off beat.

Second, you need to be yourself. In a drum circle, the magic comes from many different styles, drums, and drummers joining in harmony. Yes, there are some amazing effects to stylized drumming, like Taiko drumming, but I find that impressive, not magical.

Third, you should play. Try out different drums, different beats, different ideas. We have drummed with our bodies, on boxes, water bottles, radiators, and rubber chickens. We have vocalized and we have tranced. We laugh and build the rhythms and laugh again when they fall apart.

Fourth, there is merit in being the baseline...the single, unchanging beat...as well as the harmony. One is hard put to exist without the other.

Finally, there is no longer a doubt in my mind...I watched you drift to sleep, almost an hour earlier that usual, lulled by the rhythms of the drums around you...drums are the voices of our hearts. They open our minds to the thrum of LIFE.

My Dear Son,

This morning was little different than the rest of the week...you woke me and Daddy up by singing to yourself abour 6:30, just as the sun was beginning to stream into the window. I changed you and nursed, and then you and I went downstairs to make up breakfast while Daddy got ready for his day. Today was cream of wheat and buscuits with some OJ. Not all that creative, but as Daddy put it, "a homemade breakfast is great, no matter what it is."

Then it was time for Daddy to leave, and he started packing his bag. "Have you seen my wallet?" he asked. I went upstairs to check his dresser, and when I came back, you and he had pink envelopes for me. My first valentines from you...it's even signed by you!

Happy first Valentine's Day to you, my Son!

My Dear Son,

For the last week, we have been in a deep freeze. Temperatures outside have been stuck in the single digits, and the wind chill has dropped into the -30s. Supposedly, it's the coldest it's been in eleven years.

Despite this, we have been going, going, going! Playgroups, CradleTalk, babywearing classes...we have been hanging out with many groups and watching the other kids. You have been content to coo and sing to the older kids for hours. CradleTalk is especially fun because it's all kids your age...0-6 months...and you seem to actually enjoy tummytime when there are other babies doing it with you.

Yesterday we spent time with our friends from Bradley class. N is about two months older than you and we came home with a bunch of hand-me-downs for you. I have already packed away your infant clothes, and you are actually fitting into some of the 6-9 month clothes...mostly pants, though. I think part of that is just the cloth diaper.

You have taken to sleeping a strong 12 hours, from about 7 pm to 7 am. You wake briefly every four hours or so to change and nurse, but you go right back to sleep, and for the most part, you only wake me once a night. You don't nap regularly though, and that is hard.

You have mostly mastered your hands, although you haven't quite realized you can REACH for things yet. If it's not right in front of you, you'll look at the toy and talk or cry, but you won't reach for it. Soon.

Your favorite trick these days is to grab your toes and suck on them. You have also gotten a thrill out of the little rattle socks you got for Christmas. You are constantly pulling the rattle off your left foot in favor of your toes, though.

You gave us a taste of magic tonight. Your first TRUE giggle. I was tickling your ribs just before getting you ready for bed, and you giggled. Oh, my son! I can't wait until morning to hear it again! I love you!

My Dear Son,

God and I have a rather strange relationship, perhaps something like the relationship I had with my imaginary friend Maria. Despite being imaginary, I have no doubts that she...and God...are quite real...just not in the way that others would have me believe. It's pretty easy...When our paths cross in the same line of work, we help each other out. Otherwise, I stay out of God's way, and God stays out of mine.

But right now, I'm faced with the choice of going against my heart or USING God as an excuse...and both options just seem WRONG.

You see, despite my understanding and knowledge and public health background, I really do not want to deal with vaccinating you. I can appreciate the supposed protection that some of them grant, but I am furious that Hepatitis and chickenpox are now REQUIRED. Nevermind that there was just an outbreak of pertussis among high school students, all of whom had been vaccinated as children. On top of that, I have just too many questions about the safety of the vaccines to blindly do what I'm told.

The good news is that our doctors respect that line, and they even have the motto "Don't vaccinate before you educate!"

The fact is vaccines are not required to attend normal school. Illinois law allows for medical, as well as religious, exemptions from childhood vaccinations in sections 665.520 and 665.510 of the Illinois Administrative Code.

Unfortunately, they are not open-minded enough to allow philosophical exemption.

Since there is nothing medically wrong with you (thank goodness), I am faced with using God as my excuse.

Fortunately, I do not have to claim a specific religion or tenets of an established religion, thanks to a ruling by one Judge Wexler in 1987...he declared that limiting the exemption to only "bonafide members of a recognized religious organization" was unconstitutional. Still...even saying "God made me do it" feels like such a cop out, and neither one of us is particularly happy about it.

My Dear Son,

We have been together for eighty days now, and we have met a lot of people. We have shared the story of our birth even more, thanks to the Internet. Everyone is sympathetic about the long labor and the Cesarean we needed...

"But you have a healthy baby! You must be grateful for that!"

And I am. Truly, forever grateful that despite my illness and the threats during delivery, that we are both healing, that you are a healthy little boy.

But every time I think of our birth, I tear up and cry. I wanted so very much to have you at home, without drugs, surrounded by people who loved us. No one seemed to understand how hurt and angry I am that we needed surgery. I've tried to change my perspective about it...that it would have been dangerous for us to do anything differently...but even that doesn't resolve my regrets.

And the worst was I couldn't really understand them. My recovery was uncomplicated by medical standards...I was off all the pain meds within a week. We were fine.

I suppose that should have been my tip-off. F.I.N.E. Fucked-up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional. Yes, mommy swore...and yes, I am FINE about our birth. It has nothing to do with you, my Son! You are (mostly) a wonderful baby...even sleeping through the night before you are three months!!!...but...

I found an article written by Gretchen Humphries...FINALLY someone who understands! "It is evil to say, 'All that matters is a healthy baby,' because you are saying that her pain, her damage, doesn't matter. You are telling her that not only is her body broken, but so is her mind. That if she is physically healthy, that's all that matters, and to concerned with anything else is somehow wrong. That the means to the end doesn't matter, she is expendable."

"The truth is a woman can be absolutely grateful and full of passionate mother love for her child and be enraged by how that child came into the world. Hating the birth, hating what happened in that cold impersonal operating room or delivery room has nothing to do with the child. It is possible to be both full of rage and full of love."

"I have a lot to be grateful for but not for their birth, never for their birth. Understanding and accepting that makes me truly healthy. Admitting the horror of their birth frames the love I have for them in a way that astonishes me----amazed at what I went through because of my love for them, I now know I really would die for them if needed."

My Son, I wrote months ago, before you were even conceived, "that your momma thought long and hard about how scary all of the unknowns were, and wanted you more than she was scared." It was true then, and I know it is even more true now.

My Dear Son,

Last night, you let me and Daddy sleep through the night! I'm fairly certain that YOU woke up and then got yourself back to sleep...I've heard you do that a couple of times...but you were in your cradle from about 11:30 pm until nearly 7:30 am! There aren't words to tell you how grateful I am!

This has been a very trying week for all of us. There is a big meeting at Daddy's work on Monday, and he has been working long hours to try to get ready for that. Last night, he didn't even get home until after midnight, and he had to go back this morning even though it's Saturday. He said he might have to work Sunday, too...

You and I have been up and down. Thursday was a bad day for us both, but Friday was full of smiles. I haven't been able to figure out if it's related to my diet, or what. I have avoided the "no-no" foods pretty well... But I suppose you are human too...no reason you can't have a "bad day" and a "good day", right? We just need to give each other a bit of a break sometimes.

My Dear Son,

Today was a big day for me...we got up extra-early and got dressed and rushed out to catch the train. We went down to Chicago so that I could complete my resignation and pick up the last of my pictures from my desk. The decision to stay home was made long ago, and it was a simple one to make, but today was pretty hard for me. There were many many difficult times, but I really loved and believed in the work I was doing.

I decided today was a good day to finish this chapter of my life because I could see many of my partners, and I wanted to give them a chance to meet you and to say good-bye. For many months they cheered us on, especially while I had to work alone. In some ways I am sad to be facing this end.

At the same time, today I have started a new job! In a lot of ways, it pays much better, and the benefits package is pretty nice, too. I get to nap whenever you do. I will enjoy making dinners and (eventually) working in the garden. I will see many of your acheivements and watch you grow.

Like every job I have ever taken, this one is filled with challenges and learning curves, and I'm sure I will shed many tears in the weeks and months ahead, but like my old job, I think I will really love and believe in the work I am doing.

My Dear Son,

Today you are ten weeks and a day old. Old enough to want to play and to interact...but you have not yet mastered your hands. Right now you are lying next to me and every fifth word or so I need to recover Sassy Parrot and help you re-grasp her. You are so close to figuring this out!

My Dear Son,

You were an absolute champ through TWO WHOLE DAYS of craziness! Christmas Eve we went to our aunt's house to celebrate with Gumpduh and Auntie B and all of my cousins, and then your Grandma L, Uncle R and Auntie S and your cousins came to our house Christmas day. And you were just perfect! I know you got tired of being held by all the strangers, but instead of crying about it, you just nursed and wouldn't let go. I understood and cuddled you and told people you were just tired.

I tried to take precautions...I made everyone wash their hands before touching you and I didn't let any of the kids touch you...but I guess it didn't work. Today you started showing signs of a yucky cold...mild fever, stuffy nose, a cough, and you seemed miserable if I tried to lay you down. I did get your fever down and I went to four stores to find a wedge to put in your cradle to elevate your head...I'm hoping that will help you feel more comfortable, but I'm expecting a long night in the rocker tonight.

I'm so sorry, my Son! I know it's no fun to be sick, and you can't even blow your nose! I have to use the nasty suction bulb, and I know that hurts...I tried it on myself. I knew it would happen and I know it will get better, but I wish I could do more to help.

My Dear Son,

This week brought both your first real smiles and first real tears. Like all new parents, your dad and I wish your life was full of only smiles, but Life is full of balance.

You have also taken to fighting sleep, which has made the relationship between you and I a bit more challenging. I change you and nurse you...you drift to sleep...I lay you down and you wake instantly. Sometimes it is with a smile, sometimes it is with tears. I struggle between picking you up and cuddling you more and walking away in hopes that you will only cry for a minute before sleep claims you. I have knelt on the floor next to your crib and cried silently with you, sharing frustration and exhaustion.

But your smiles...! Oh, my Son! You have started to understand play, and you smile at me when I tickle you and kiss you all over. You have made your daddy's day by smiling at him just before he leaves for work. You have once again enchanted us with how amazing and how special you are.

Today, you have been in our lives for fifty days. So much has changed already...and there is so much more to look forward to! I love you!

My Dear Son,

Newborns, I was told, sleep about 16 hours a day. I sort of thought that would give me plenty of time to do STUFF...whether that was clearing the back bedroom or finishing my book or making dinner. Sure, I'd need a week or two to recover from birthing, but surely I'd be back to my "normal" routines by then! Certainly I would never be the new mother who was still in her nightgown at 4 pm!

I humbly recant any scoffing I did when people said otherwise.

Some days, I feel like I can barely function. I have many people who are willing to "help", but it seems that if I accept the "help" it actually turns into a visit where little gets done. I have not gotten a chance to nap or bathe or catch up on laundry because someone was here. And trying to accept help in the form of someone else doing X,Y, or Z for me hasn't worked well because then I have to THINK about the task and figure out what is needed for the task first instead of my mindlessly doing it myself.

Part of the problem is just me. I admit to a certain perfectionist compulsion. It is a misery to me, and sometimes it goes way overboard. For instance, your great-grandparents came to vist last weekend. I spent three days trying to get the house in order for their visit, and the morning of their arrival, I caught myself worrying over dusting under the bed. Yes, I can be reduced to such insanity, and I will risk my chance at sleep or a meal to comply. I fought this through my pregnancy, and I continue to fight it now.

Another part of the problem is also just me. I am an incredibly solitary creature. Don't be fooled...I adore hosting parties and try my very best to be welcoming and helpful to every person who enters my world...but I crave silence and solitary.

I have not been ALONE in more than six weeks.

Your dad is a wonderful help and comes home and plays with you or cuddles you, giving me the chance to have a few minutes of quiet, but it's not the same as being alone. Even on my days "off" I spend my child-less hours desperately trying to do the chores I simply can't accomplish with you. I don't get the silence of the big, empty house anymore.

In eighteen or twenty years, I'll probably complain that the house is TOO quiet and I will struggle with the empty nest syndrome, but right now, I feel rather crowded.

I love you so much, my Son, but sometimes I wish someone else could fulfill your needs and I could just be by myself.