Reflections of a six-month-old parent

I'm having a moment over here.

Part One: Last Night
It was a rough night, at least in the sense that I didn't get much sleep. My sweet little baby was reportedly a bit grumpy most of the day yesterday and took extra long naps. When I got home from work, she was sleeping. She woke up at 5:30 for about an hour and a half, then went back to sleep around 7. I almost thought/prayed/hoped it was a night-time sleep that would last extra extra long, because any other solution meant less sleep for Mama. (Selfless, I know.) She normally takes a short nap in the evening and then wants to go to bed around 11 or midnight so I knew something was off.

Well my beautiful girl woke up at 10pm. She was up for an hour, but was clearly very tired, so I decided to put her to bed. Swaddle, song, good night, lights out. We check on her for the next hour because she is occasionally singing, talking, fussing, and otherwise indicating that she is not asleep. All with her sleep cues in full force: droopy eyes, rubbing eyes, tired cry.

At close to midnight I check on her. It's been quiet for quite some time so I'm pretty sure she's asleep. No. She is completely broken out of the swaddle, on all fours, staring up at me as I enter the room. So I try again. Swaddle, song, another song, 30 minutes of singing with my hand on her hands inside the swaddle, keeping her still and calm. Usually this is a surefire way to get her to sleep. Not last night. She seems to become more and more awake. I'm ready to go to bed but I can see she is clearly not ready for sleeping. I turn up the light, set her free, and sit down on my bed next to her, and Papi came to join us. We were sitting around and chatting, and watching her play around in her co-sleeper. Next thing we know, she is crawling out of her bed into ours so she can come be closer to us.

Uh oh. Trouble. (Time for a new sleep solution!)

So she crawls around on our bed for a long while before I decide we are going to bed and she can play if she wants to, but I am not. Lights out and good night Luci. An hour or so later she finally falls asleep at my side and so do I. She wakes up a few hours later and I put her in her own bed. We both sleep peacefully well into the morning.

A few days ago, after her nap. Warning! Danger! Mobile baby!

Part Two: This Morning
This morning I was commiserating with a friend about our tricky nights and how it is so hard to know whether you are doing the right thing or not. We are so full of doubt, new parents, aren't we? Every thing that we do is seemingly shaping this little life and there are so many ways to go wrong. For example, sometimes I wonder if I am ruining Luciana's sleep schedule for the rest of her life by not putting her to bed in the early evening like most parents. I wonder if I am setting her up for a life of insomnia and if when she's 34 she'll have trouble falling asleep before 2am like I do. Even though my doctor assures me I am not and continues to encourage me to do whatever works best with my schedule and gets me the most sleep, I still think about it.

But really, deep down, we do know what to do. You listen to your baby and she tells you, and maybe it takes a little extra time because she can't articulate herself very well, but you keep listening and you both figure it out. Not that you give in to every whim and desire, but you listen to the message you are receiving and you respond as best as you know how. And you're both experimenting really - the baby is saying, what will they understand if I straighten my legs after using the potty? Will they know what I need if I suck on their arm? You are figuring out how the little person is communicating, and they are learning how you will respond to what they tell you.

This was my philosophy with Luci as a newborn. You're hungry? It's time to eat. Sleepy? Let's take a nap. Need to comfort nurse? I'm here for you. I thought about how I get to make my own schedule, so why wouldn't I allow her to guide me for hers? It worked really well for us and it has felt natural and right to stick with it for now. So I wasn't upset last night when Luciana was awake at the wrong time. I didn't try to impose my own schedule on her. When it was clear she wasn't ready to sleep, I didn't force it. I considered how to help her make a better schedule, sure. I thought about what might have gone wrong to put her timing off. I definitely planned to do things differently today. But mostly I just sat there watching her crawl around, marveling at her and soaking it all in.

It makes me think about my mom and how she assured me that I'd know what to do as a mom without her. And I don't think she said this, but I heard it this morning in my heart: it's because the baby will tell you. She knows what she needs. She will tell you. Just listen to her.

Perhaps those of you who are seasoned parents are pitying me right now. Maybe you know that I am setting myself up for a horrible next six months. Maybe you worry I won't discipline my child enough. Maybe I myself will look back on this moment and regret everything. Maybe not.

For now, this is how we parent. We're listening, Luciana.

Kisses and Nosies

For the past several months, I've done two little games repeatedly with Luci, whenever she was in the mood:

Kisses: I kiss her cheek near her lips then turn my head to put my cheek on her lips.

Nosies: Eskimo kisses while singing my little "Nosies" chant.

A few days ago, I started having the suspicion she was trying to initiate these little love games, but I thought it might be in my head. Today I became convinced that it was real.

For kisses - she plants her mouth on my cheek and stays there motionless for several moments. I can tell this is different than "I'm hungry let me suck on anything I can find" - which she usually indicates these days by burying her head into my shoulder - because she doesn't (usually) try to latch on or start sucking on my cheek, she just puts her little mouth there and waits. And if I look at her and ask if she is doing kisses she gets a big smile on her face.

But it was Nosies that was really clear as a bell. She grabbed my face, pulled it to hers, and banged her forehead into mine as she frantically bumped my nose with her nose. She repeated it over and over again as I was with her sporadically throughout the day and it tickled my heart each time.

A mom in our church asked yesterday how old she was, and when I said she had just turned six months, she told me what a precious age 6-9 months is because they start giving back all that you've put into them. My first thought was "of course! she's been giving back to me her whole life!" Whether through nursing, or staring intently at my face, or those early smiles, or the looks of recognition, or the big smiles, or the fleeting reaches towards me when she is with someone else, I've felt our relationship grow and grow. I think with those early "giving" responses and reciprocation, it's easy to question whether they are from love or from reflex, on purpose or wishful thinking, by design or by accident. Even if I believe that smiles are smiles, or that what feels like a loving gesture is love, it's hard to ignore those voices that doubt a little baby is capable of that - that all smiles are gas and all cuteness is just a reflex. What was special about today, and maybe what this mom really meant, is that those doubting voices vanish. No one can argue that it didn't happen or that it was just a reflex or that she just has to go to the bathroom (argh, that one especially irritates me!). No other baby but mine will ever grab my face and bang her head against mine until our noses make contact. That's all just for us, and it's special.

Our day in Chatham

Roman and I have played our fair share of weddings together. We almost always enjoy it even though we are celebrating with strangers, and we can usually find some encouragement, conviction, and renewal in the witnessing of someone else's wedding. In the stress of it, we have also had some of our most childish fights on the way to the gig. One of them (many many years ago, of course)  may or may not have ended with me throwing my sandwich at Roman and staining his tux with mustard. Not my finest moment.

Last night I happened to stay at work until around 1am, then I suffered from my usual lie-in-bed-for-two-hours-before-sleeping routine. When my alarm went off at 7:45, I wasn't too eager to obey it. But today's wedding was special. Not only did we have the honor of playing for the wedding of a friend from undergrad and various gigs, we were returning to the place we honeymooned. We were looking forward to going early, spending some time walking around the downtown area, visiting some shops, and having a nice lunch before heading to the wedding venue for our rehearsal.

Well... that was a great plan. Trouble was, after feeding the baby, finding something to wear (which can be its own struggle as we all know! I was searching my closet for something black and clean that fits well enough and wasn't too "concert" dress but not too casual, not too warm, and also conducive to nursing - I was completely dissatisfied with the only option I could seem to find!), dressing up the baby (is this dress dressy enough?), packing the diaper bag (what if she has a crazy day and needs 57 diapers?), blow drying my hair so at least one part of me could look decent (a complete waste of time due to the rain and humidity of the wedding venue), having breakfast, feeding the baby again... let's just say we didn't quite leave as early as we wanted to.

Did I mention I was tired? We may or may not have argued off and on during the 2.5 hour drive there.  Mostly probably because I've been overworking this week and feeling pretty stressed. We also had some good conversation too, don't worry.Then once we arrived, it was rainy and the main street was crowded with cars. We spent a dreary half hour trying to decide where to have lunch, and finally settled on a place where we could have some clam chowder and scallops. It was lovely being back in Chatham though and lunch and the familiar scenery boosted my spirits.

The wedding was lovely and two of our good friends held the baby during our rehearsal and the ceremony itself so we didn't have to worry about Luciana. And as expected, even though we didn't agree with the theology of marriage presented in the wedding, the message still inspired us (me) to do better, convicted us (me) of my shortcomings, and reminded us of the importance of and joy in working on our marriage. The preacher talked about marriage being a device to show you your worst, and I heartily agreed! I think it can also show you your best, if you allow it.

It was really nice to make the switch from "gig" to "guest" - something we don't often get to do. The reception was fun and it was great to hang out with friends. Luciana took a nap just when it was time for dinner, which was excellent timing! We all three spent some time on the dance floor. I did not take a single picture, so you'll just have to believe me that Luci was plenty cute at her first wedding and on her first day wearing 3-6 month clothes.

The most fun part of the evening came when we were resting after dancing. Luci has been increasingly interested for the past few weeks in everything that I put in my mouth, and most especially my water glass. If she's eating and I drink water, she will stop and watch me intently until I'm done. Today as I was drinking with her on my lap, she grabbed the glass and pulled it to her mouth. I let her feel the cold and smooth side of the glass on her mouth. I drank again and this time she grabbed the glass with both hands and pulled the lip of it to her mouth and tried to lift it. I helped her get the water and she was very enthusiastic. The next time I tried to drink she wrested the glass and spilled it all over me! We've been waiting to start solid food until she shows her own interest, so this was just the sort of thing we were hoping for. When I would take the glass away from her she would start to cry a little in protest. It's fun to see her learn to communicate her desires.

When we got home I was about done feeding her and drinking my usual glass of water. She grabbed for my glass, so I cheerfully sat her up and let her have another little drink.

I've been thinking over these past few months about this journey of motherhood and how to make it my own. I've tried to be careful to let Luciana be who she is and how she is in every stage, and to just enjoy her in that moment. In life, in music, in everything, I struggle to not just race from task to task, note to note, finish to finish. It is hard for me to slow down my brain, enjoy the process, and savor each beautiful or difficult moment. I made a decision when she was born to let her teach me. Every day, every stage, every mood is beautiful because it is hers. And I enjoy it.

Have another sip of water, Luci. You're growing up so beautifully. I hope I am too.

"She's so gentle."

I can't stop thinking about this thing that happened last night.

It is hot around here these days. Luci and I arrived home yesterday from an evening walking around the mall to an apartment that was 85 degrees. I, thinking I would be such a good mom, decided to give her a cool bath to give her some relief from the weather (the mall had not been as cool as I hoped it would be). I put her in her little bathtub and started filling it with water that felt refreshing to my arm. She was not as pleased as I hoped she would be, and as I continued to fill it with cool water, she became increasingly upset. I started filling the regular tub with warm water and moved her into the other part of the tub.

By the time I realized she was definitely not appreciating the cool water and could get her into the warmer water, she was pretty upset. Ok, she was absolutely screaming and writhing around. I spoke to her soothingly as I eased her into the warm water. As soon as she was there, she stopped crying, looked right at me, and beamed her wonderful smile at me. I couldn't believe how quickly she could turn from telling me about her immense displeasure with the situation to seemingly forgetting that the horrible moment had ever happened. Her forgiveness was immediate and complete. We finished up her bath with peace and contentment and I think she did feel refreshed after all having been in the water.

In the hospital when Luci was born, a nurse who was watching us as we got set up for a feeding made a simple comment: "She's so gentle." She probably thought nothing of it, but it struck me in that moment how true it was. Maybe it was normal for a two day old baby to be gentle, or maybe not, but this rang true in my heart. Gentleness is something I struggle with so much in my life. For years I have prayed for a gentle spirit. It made my heart so hopeful that she might be gifted with one from birth. She has continued in this gentleness since those early days. And not just in gentleness, but in patience. It is strange to describe a baby as patient, but there have been many times I knew she was ready to eat but she calmly and gently waited until I was ready to feed her. I now actually have to be careful not to take advantage of her patience - just because she will wait does not mean I should make her wait!

Today it was still 85 degrees in our house, so I decided to take a cool bath. After several moments in there, I realized I was actually suffering and not at all happy, and that what I really wanted was warm water. I remembered Luciana last night and thought how I was just like her.

Maybe she is also teaching me patience and gentleness.

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, 

the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, 

which is of great worth in God's sight.

1 Peter 3:3-4 (NIV)

A baby loves her mama

Last Saturday evening I was holding Luciana after a concert. I had fed her and I was enjoying some snuggly time. She was getting very sleepy but I continued to hold her in the crook of my arm and stare at her. She is so lovely to stare at, you see. And when she locks eyes with you, it's very hard to turn away.

I noticed her little eyes get a little red like they do when she is tired, just like her daddy. And they got a little droopy. But as they got droopier and droopier, the sweetest thing happened.

From her half-closed eyes, she smiled at me. I smiled back at her. Her eyes softly closed, but she opened them halfway just to look at me. She smiled again. I smiled at her. Her eyes fluttered, then she opened them a quarter of the way, stared up at me, and smiled again.

She repeated this until she succumbed to her sweet sleep with a smile on her face and I sat with tears streaming down my cheeks looking at this precious little baby. She wanted to sleep, but she equally wanted to look at me. She had no energy left in her body to even hold open her eyes, but she mustered up the little she needed to smile at me over and over again as she drifted away.

I felt like she loved me. Imagine feeling that from an infant. And it made me feel like I've done some things right by her.

What a sweet memory.

[I thought I better write it down for when she's 14 and telling me she hates me.]

Luciana: 3 months!

Luciana turned three months old last Tuesday. My goodness, the time does fly.

A review of her third month and some 3 month pictures:

Three months was a happy month for Luci! She spent most of her awake moments smiling and interacting with people around her, much to the delight of her mama. She would flash a grin at strangers in the grocery store, greet us with smiles after naps and absences, and beam at us whenever we got close enough for her to recognize us. She loves to have long and intelligent conversations with Papi, practicing all sorts of vowels and intonations. It is amazing how long you will sit and wait for a smile from a baby!

Luci smiling at Papi!

She likes to suck on her hands. I don't love this! I'm hoping it's a phase of exploration, especially since she doesn't do it when she's falling asleep. (She also is very selective about when and which pacifier she will take!)

Another new accomplishment was that she started being able to fall asleep on her own without being held. During the day when she was happy I'd put her in her favorite chair. She'd coo and smile for a while, she'd look around for a bit, and the next thing I knew she'd be asleep. It happened completely by accident for the first few days but then I started trying to put her down at just the right time to let her nap. 

Nighttimes continued to be challenging as she would not sleep in her own bed and woke every 1-2 hours to eat. Saddest of all, she no longer enjoys sleeping all snuggled on my chest. 

She is growing well. We estimate she was around 9.5 pounds at 3 months. She looks so big to us even though she is still the size of some newborns! It is already hard to conceive that she used to be so tiny that our hands were wider than her back and that she could fit in those precious teeny preemie clothes. She is making a long transition from newborn clothes (mostly too small) to 0-3 month clothes (mostly too big) and still wears newborn diapers. Here's a fun comparison!

February 5 vs April 1

She is pretty good at communicating and we can often understand the following:

I would like to eat soon please.

FEED ME NOW!

I'm kind of sleepy and I think I might take a nap all by myself. 

I am very tired and need help falling asleep.

Please take me to the potty.

No, thank you, I do not want to use the potty right now!

Hmm, I'm uncomfortable.

Something is really hurting me!

How come no one is paying attention to me right now?

Why did you put me down? You've totally ruined my day.

We know best that she is hungry because she does the "woodpecker" against your neck and chest (a month ago she would just start sucking on your neck) and occasionally throws her whole body in the general direction of where she perceives there might be milk. When she is really tired her eyes get all red and puffy. She doesn't like having a blanket on her and always kicks it off. (She has hated being swaddled for a while now - we gave that up way back at week 3.) She loves to stand (supported) and has strong legs! 

She's stayed with three baby-sitters so far and had plenty of evenings home with Daddy while I'm off playing with orchestras. We still spend lots of days at home just the two of us, at least two a week.

When Luciana was born, I didn't necessarily have that instantaneous love and deep connection that some people feel. I was smitten with her and couldn't stop looking at her and discovering new things about her. But it felt awkward and not genuine somehow to say that I loved her. Someone asked me a few weeks after she born if I was head over heels in love with her and I said I'm not sure. And the individual continued, well, does it hurt your heart to leave her? No, it didn't. It still doesn't. But I'm awfully glad to come home to her when I'm gone. 

Somewhere along the way though I came to truly adore and cherish and love this beautiful little creation. One day this month I heard myself tell her that I loved her and it no longer felt strange. And every day love goes deeper and hurts your heart more in its purity and beauty. (Is this really how God loves me? Amazing.) I can't believe she came from me. She is a gift.

The saddest thing that has happened is that somehow I lost all the pictures and videos from my phone from when Luci was born until today. I'm not sure what I did but it is tragic*. I'll just have to stare at her extra long. And post more pictures for you later from Roman's phone!

[Preview for four months: Definitely not as happy as three months. What's with the fussy baby? However, she has a great new accomplishment. Here's a hint: it starts with s and ends with leep!]



*I wrote this post before hearing about the explosions at the Boston marathon happening at about the same time. Losing hundreds of pictures and videos seems so trivial compared to the true tragedies of life. I love my city.

"Easy" babies

Today we had a "welcome baby" celebration at my office which my amazing assistant organized for us. Since Luci is often awake and happy in the afternoons, we thought it'd be the perfect time to have a little party. She would be able to show off her enormous smiles and everyone would think she was such a cute happy baby and thus think I was such a good mom.

I planned the day quite well. We slept late as usual and tried to recover from almost no sleep on Saturday night. Usually she eats in the late morning then takes another little nap. Here's where things started going wrong. She decided to stay awake during the late morning instead. I knew that would be problematic, so I went to the office as soon as we were ready, hoping she'd fall asleep in the car. She did. Perfect party plan saved! I intended to wake her to eat 20 minutes before the party was scheduled to begin. She decided to wake up sooner. Instead of the full meal I expected, she was only interested in a snack and wanted to go back to sleep. She snoozed for a few minutes then woke up when it was time to show her off to all the people. This was not how I had planned our party preparations. However, as we all know, babies really care nothing about their mamas' schedules and plans.

Having had neither a good nap nor a good eat, she was not exactly the happiest baby. She was awake enough though to be alert for everyone and impress everyone with her strong neck. She also looked really cute and received all the compliments about how pretty she is without letting them go to her head. We were happy to play pass the baby, though it came with a caveat: she's fussy, so you probably only have a minute to hold her before she starts crying. She needed a moment with Mama to become calm again between each stranger. Everyone was appropriately understanding and we had a really nice time. I saw some old friends and lots of people stopped by to meet our baby. It was wonderful. 

Once everyone left she had a full meal and took a short nap. Some latecomers arrived and she was appropriately calm and content for their visit. I mentioned to them that at least no one from the earlier part of the party would ever talk to me about how easy my baby is. And fortunately before she left, Luciana gave my assistant a sampling of her beautiful smiles as a thank you for the fun party.

"Easy babies." My friend and I were discussing this the other day. People who only see you with your baby while the baby is happily sleeping or otherwise content tend to think you have an easy baby. Or maybe they see lots of pictures of your happy baby and think the baby must be happy 24 hours a day and never fuss. This can make a mom feel pretty bad about herself, especially on days where the baby does nothing but fuss. 

I finally suggested that perhaps easy babies really only exist in other people's minds. Sure, some babies are happier than others. Some are even easier than others. But let's face it, all babies cry. Few babies really let their parents get a good night's sleep. Most babies struggle as they learn their place in this world. That's why they need us. That's what makes having a baby hard.

We were out shopping at a kid's consignment event as we discussed this. A mom nearby overhead my comment and jumped in to agree. Which makes me think this "easy baby" problem is universal. 

Luciana is a sweet little baby and of course we love her even when she is crying and we can't figure out how to make her feel better. Or when we're driving home and really can't do anything about the fact that she is hungry/uncomfortable/needing-a-clean-diaper other than listen to her scream for ten minutes. Or when, God forbid, we put her down and step into the bathroom ourselves. 

I'm really not complaining. I don't think she is a particularly hard baby. So far I think she is a normal baby, and on some days she swings opposite directions on the easy/hard baby pendulum. But on those hard-swinging days, I certainly don't want someone telling me how easy she is to take care of.

So there you go. Some pictures to show our perfect little baby cries. And right now, since she is quietly sleeping in real life, I actually find these pictures kind of endearing. (Don't judge us for taking pictures while the baby cried instead of trying to soothe her. We were doing both, promise.)

**This blog post brought to you by a rare 3.5 hour nap caused by an exhausting party.**

Did you miss me?

Today Roman stayed home alone with Luciana for the second time while I went off to play a concert. I was gone for over five hours, much longer than the first time. They had a nice time together but for some of the time she was inconsolable. She's had some rough times lately and she barely slept the previous night, waking every hour on the hour like a stubborn little clock. When I arrived home, she was still a little fussy. I leaned over and greeted her. The very moment she heard my voice, she stopped crying and became calm.

Sometimes dealing with an infant is challenging and it is almost always cause for self-doubt: Am I doing the best for her and for me? Am I establishing good patterns? Will I later regret the choices I make today?  Is this the right way to parent her? To love her?

Today she recognized my voice. It made a difference to her instantly. It made me wonder if she was aware enough to have missed me. If I had become important enough to her that her world seemed unfamiliar without me even if she couldn't understand what was wrong. And it made me feel like I've done something right. Something good for her. Somehow made her feel safe and loved. And even though I'm sorry she had a rough time while I was gone, I think I needed that moment.

We're learning to love each other, this girl and I.

Write me a book

I used to keep a blog. (I wouldn't say I was good at it.) It is sadly lost forever now. In it, I chronicled my life from January 2007 until June 2008, mostly for an audience of one: my mother. During that time I spent seven months in Argentina, met my husband, brought him to the US, and married him. It was also during that time that my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. She died in March 2010.

(Here I pause, because almost three years later, that sentence still brings surprisingly ready tears to my eyes.)

We had the blessing of spending lots of time with her those last few years. She would come stay with us for a month at a time and we loved sharing our newlywed life with her. When we drove her back and forth from PA she would stay awake with me and tell me her stories. Stories I'd never heard before. Stories that my forgetful mind has since wiped away, leaving only the warm memory of those precious times. I cherished finding my mom in story mode and hearing beautiful nuggets about her life, my childhood, and her dreams. Her nostalgic happiness was so beautiful.

My mom was a great baby-lover and as a foster mom took care of dozens of other people's babies. She was my go-to expert when I had struggles in my baby-sitting jobs. She knew everything and always had the best advice.

When my mom first told me her cancer had metastasized in August 2007, I looked at Roman (we had just started dating) with a huge lump in my throat and told him that I needed to get married and have babies immediately. (No pressure, new boyfriend.) The hardest part of her dying was knowing that I would maybe one day become a mom without her help. It seemed impossible to reconcile and it was what made me most angry at death and most jealous of my siblings. After all, some of their children were teenagers. Their children had had a grandmother. They lived with her. They knew her. They fought with her. They loved her. My children were still stars in the sky.

As we grew nearer to the reality of her death, I got bold. I started begging. Mom, write me a book. You have to write down everything you know about raising a child. I need your advice. Please write it down. Anything, something. I need all that is in your head down on paper to help me through it. Please do it. Write me a book.

It was selfish of me. Childish. She was too sick. Too tired. Too in her own moment of her own reflections at the end of her own life.

Through my pregnancy I thought of my mom a lot. I despaired again about having a baby without her help. But all of a sudden just now I remembered what her response was of my request: You'll know what to do. You'll be a good mom. You won't need a book. Love your baby.

I have a terrible memory. My sister is constantly telling me stories about growing up that I just can't remember. I want to live my life so richly that I have too many wonderful memories to keep stored away. I want to savor every moment of my life, but I'm afraid I'll have no stories to tell at the end. So maybe if I am faithful to this blog, maybe one day I'll again have an audience of one. The one I'm watching sleep in my arms as I type this.

Mom, write me a book.

This is page one.