interspecies relations

Norton is currently Leila's very favourite toy. He's not so sure how he feels about this.

captain cuddles

Finally, some answers. I feel like I've been beating my head against a door with most of  the medical professionals in my life for the past couple of months. I'm sure doctors and public health nurses hear a lot of first time moms freaking out, but on the odd chance that a mother is actually in touch with her child and is clamouring, "something's wrong, something's wrong" over and over again it would be nice if they listened.

I haven't wanted to write about how I think Leila has something 'wrong' with her for a whole bunch of reasons, but mostly because she is, in so many ways, such a wonderful perfect being that it feels wrong to complain about her. That being said, she hasn't been very happy lately and it came to a head last week when she would arch her back and scream like she was being tortured on and of all day. On Friday, after talking to about four different public health nurses on the phone, I made an appointment to see my doctor, however, she was unavailable so I saw another doctor at the practice who was awesome. I want her adopt me and Leila as her patients. I hope she will. At any rate, she listened to my tale of woe about how Leila wakes up every hour during the night, seems to be in pain, and has green poop. She asked a bunch of questions and then told me it sounds like Leila has a protein intolerance. This means I have to cut out my beloved dairy (I love cheese), nuts, shell-fish, and eggs. You know, just most of my diet. I'd already cut dairy out about a week before on the off chance it was the cause of her unhappiness, but I was still eating the rest of it. The good news is by the time most babies are six months to a year old their stomachs have developed to the point where they, and their breast-feeding mothers, can eat these proteins again,

Anyway, this protein intolerance basically leads to inflamed guts which are obviously no fun for a little person, so it's no wonder she was waking up miserable in the middle of the night and never wanted me to put her down during the day. When I'm sick I still want my mom to take care of me, so it seems only reasonable that she would want to be in my arms at all times. It's supposed to take about a month to see results from this new diet, but Leila already seems much happier. This new found peace seems to fragile I am almost scared to say anything about it in fear that giving it a name will make it slip away. For now though, all three of us are happy.

only in dreams

I had this terrible dream last night that I let something bad happen to Leila. As dreams go, the details today are somewhat unclear, but somehow I let her get burned before I understood what was going on. Once I understood it was too late and I knew she was going to die. The people in my dream were trying to convince me it would be alright, I could have another one, one who would be less work, who wouldn't cry as much, but I was trying to pick her up out of the fire and hold her to me and she bravely was trying to smile.  All that was left of her was the dimple of her right cheek as she smiled at me.

I've been haunted by the memory of this dream all day. I've held her solid, warm little body to my chest and inhaled the smell of her skin, her hair. Yet somehow the specter of her pain has hung over me making me feel guilty for something I haven't done. Maybe it is the weight of the unconscious, my fears and doubts I haven't let pass through my lips taking shape in a dream.  As though part of me wished her out of existence. I love her more than anything in the universe. I love her so hard I feel like my chest is going to crack from the internal pressure. But it's not easy going and sometimes, at five in the morning, I've wished I could have it all back the way it used to be.

When I was very small my grandmother used to tell me that she wouldn't trade me for all the rice in China. And upon reflection, I realize that I wouldn't trade Leila for all the late nights out, for all the travels and adventures, for all the glasses of wine, for all the late mornings in the world.

things you like at three and half months

Today a friend asked me what Leila likes. I thought this was a really lovely question since most of the time babies are seen more as unreasonable objects rather than as very small people with definite opinions. The following is a list of things Leila likes in case you want to know, and in case she wants to know when she's much older and reading this long love letter to her I'm calling a blog.

In no particular order:

1. Rubbing noses with me
2. Her giraffe Sophie
3. Chewing on receiving blankets
4. Cooing
5. Blowing bubbles
6. Going for walks
7. Staring at the bird mobile Auntie Ashlee made
8. The Norton
9. Dad
10. Eating

pleasure cruise

People keep asking me if I'm enjoying motherhood. This question, however legitimate, only really has one right answer. You can't say, "no I fucking hate it, I'm overwhelmed, tired and I want to go get drunk, but I can't because she eats every hour." I do like motherhood. I like how my daughter responds to my presence, how she calms at my voice and smiles when I tickle her tummy, I like our afternoon naps together when we curl up facing each other and snuggle. It seems like a funny question in some ways too, because it's not like a bad haircut you can grow out and change. It's not even like adopting an animal you don't have time for. Now, and for the rest of my life, I will be a mother. It's not really about liking it or not liking it's about doing the best I can.

Tom bought me a motorcycle when I was eight and half months pregnant. I thought it was hilarious. When would I ever have the time or energy to learn to ride? Yet last night I found myself dreaming about riding it. I felt so free like I was flying. I would like to have the time to learn, right now it feels like I never will, but I know it won't always be like this. Leila won't  always need me so hard. She will learn to find others almost as reassuring as me. And then I'll be jealous she's not wholly mine any longer. Or maybe I won't....