Stay At Home?

Maybe, for a little while, until I can find another job. I quit my job, finally, after wanting to for quite some time. When my husband put it to me like this, I knew it was time:

X and I don't deserve to have you coming home at night crying because of something that happened at your job. X and I don't deserve to see you off in the morning, crying, because you don't want to go to your job. We deserve better than that.

I used to love my job, and there was a time when it was a perfect fit for me. That time has come and gone. I have different priorities now. I have a family that needs me, and needs me to be happy, so we can all be happy together.

Unfortunately, though we can make it short-term without my income, we also need for me to have an income for just a couple more years. I am searching for a job, but also desperately want to stay at home. I'm torn between the two. Can we make enough changes, cut enough fat off of our budget, for me to stay at home? Would having more time to make better decisions about money make it possible? I would get to spend the fleeting baby days with X, and be the first to hear him say his first word, watch him crawl, take his first steps. I would be there with him. I want to be there with him. I would be there for my husband. I could keep my house up the way I want to! I could cook and clean! Be a mother and a wife, without the stress of a job creeping in, taking over my thoughts as I try to BE PRESENT with my family.

My husband and I will keep asking ourselves the questions, keep searching for the answer. My remaining three weeks of employment await.

Pattern

Sit on the Pilates ball.
Stand up and walk around.
Shake left hand, as if fanning myself.
Kneel at the edge of the bed, husband and mother-in-law massaging and squeezing my hips together.
Breathe.
Focus on breathing.
Repeat.
For hours.

Indigestion

The indigestion started at the beginning of December, 2009. It was constant. It was awful. My stomach hurt. I complained to my husband, we tried various antacids, but they barely took the edge off.

I was under a lot of stress at the time. I began to think I had developed an ulcer.

Or a milk allergy. Yogurt also seemed to upset me more than usual. Was I becoming lactose intolerant?

By Christmas, my husband was as worried as I.

Then, inspiration struck. My husband asked on Christmas day, "Do you think you might be pregnant?"

My answer? An emphatic NOPE. It wasn't possible. I had PCOS. Endometriosis. I couldn't be pregnant. We'd been trying for a year to get pregnant. I had surgery to correct some of my issues, and had taken three rounds of Clomid with no ovulation. I'd had a period in August, but that seemed like a fluke. I hadn't had one since, but I certainly didn't FEEL pregnant. And, surely, I couldn't be four MONTHS pregnant without knowing it. So, nope. I had an ulcer. Or giardiasis. I was going to call the doctor after Christmas.

My husband told me, "I'm going to get you a home pregnancy test tomorrow morning, first thing." Then he went to cook our Christmas dinner -- turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes. Usually a favorite of mine, this time the aroma of the cooking meal made me sick to my stomach. Oh, I was definitely sick.

The next day, true to his word, he went out for a home pregnancy test. He brought it to me and I said, with a roll of the eyes, "Okay. I'll be back in three minutes."

Four minutes later, I was stumbling down the steps in a daze, gripping the positive test stick. "Holy shit. HOLY SHIT!" And we started laughing, crying, hugging. We were going to be parents.

Blisters

When the excitement of the birth started to die down, and all of the necessary tests had been performed, my husband and I pored over Mr. X, counting his fingers, caressing his earlobes, kissing his round little belly. Then we noticed the small blisters on his hands, just below the thumbs and on one wrist.

"What are these?" we asked the midwife.

She looked. "Oh, those are sucking blisters, he must have been pretty busy in there!"

I knew all at once what those tickling sensations low in my uterus had been. Little fingers, wiggling and working their way into Mr. X's mouth! He was busy inside, to have blistered himself!

The marks have now faded, but he still LOVES his hands and fingers. Some habits die hard, I guess.

Three

My husband described the hospital stay as being very much like a private vacation. Everything stopped, we were all together -- three of us, now -- without the interruption of working. It felt like a cocoon, almost. We only had visits from my in-laws, who stayed with us for two months, helping out with our new little guy. Other than that, it was just hospital staff, our pediatrician, meal service.

How I miss the insulation, the protection from daily life. Those days in our suite were like heaven. I find myself wishing for the same solitude, the same time to bond as a family. We are so busy now. Both my husband and I work full-time. X goes to daycare. The moments together are precious and few, as everyday life takes us over.

So, I try to savor the memories of those first few days when it really was just the three of us, feeling safe. Feeling the love with such intensity. Feeling amazed at the life ahead of us, now that we were three.

His First Cry

His first cry sounded like the cry of a tiny bird. He cried, and cried again, as the midwife checked him over before helping my husband to place him on my chest. I wish I had been able to record that sound! It brings tears to my eyes, recalling it. The midwife asked my husband if he wanted to cut the cord. I nodded at him, and he took the instrument from her. I couldn't take my eyes off of our son. He was so tiny, so warm! And, again, the birdlike cry from his sweet little mouth.

August 16, 2010

August 16, 2010 at 4:14 a.m. That was the moment I became who I am today: a mother.

This is astounding, because I never thought it would happen to me.

Now, five months later, I find that I'm forgetting things. I want to get it all down. I want to try to remember, so I can tell Mr. X his story.

That's what this blog will be about. Me, my husband, and our baby boy, Mr. X -- the light of our lives.