Thursday, November 25, 2010

Giving Thanks

Dear Delilah,

Today is Thanksgiving, a day that features family, food, and gratitude. As the days have gone by since your birthday, I can't help but to remember what life was like at this time last year. Last Thanksgiving, I was exhausted. I was recovering from your birth, adjusting to motherhood, and operating on very little sleep. Your Thanksgiving feast consisted only of my milk, and since I was not yet confident in nursing you, it was one of the only times you ate not only in a separate room from all of the action, but under a cover. I remember I hemmed and hawed about leaving the house without my little notebook, where I was recording what time you ate, which side you ate from, and how long you ate for.

Your feast this year had much more variety!


You had vegetarian "turk'y" roast, mama's cheesy garlic mashed potatos and green bean casserole, Grandma Laurel's seven-layer salad, Aunt Linda's grape salad, part of a dinner role, and even a little bit of Grandma Bev's birthday cake!

You are remarkably independent. So much so that I didn't think twice about setting you free with your adoring relatives to get busy in Grandma Bev's kitchen with Aunt Janelle and Uncle Jamie, preparing what was not only our Thanksgiving Feast, but Grandma Bev's birthday meal. A far cry from last year when I wouldn't let you out of my sight!

This Thanksgiving, I am just as thankful as I was last year for you, for your father, for your grandparents, aunts, and uncles. I am just as thankful for our health and happiness. I am just as thankful that we can all be together to celebrate the holidays, that we are blessed with bountiful food to nourish ourselves with, and that we have a warm and comfortable home to return to when the celebration comes to an end.

This Thanksgiving, however, I have something new to be thankful for. I am thankful that I have grown into my role as your mother, that I have gained confidence in my ability to keep you in one piece, and that I am secure enough to let you out of my sight to enjoy time to bond with your family members who don't get to spend as much time with you. We are all so blessed to have you in our lives, and are forever grateful for your existence!

Love,

Mama


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Friday, November 19, 2010

Lactation and Luck

Dear Delilah,

Recently, the act of sharing nursing photos on social-networking sites like Facebook (I wonder if there will even BE a Facebook by the time you read this?) has received a lot of attention. Some mothers have had problems with their photos being censored due to "obscenity". Bloggers like me from all walks of life have been discussing this, and you and I were even featured in one on Tales of an Unlikely Mother! Those bloggers (especially that one!) have said everything I could say, and probably said it better.

All that to say that this letter isn't about that. It's not about our photos being censored, it's not about being harassed when we nurse in public, and it's not about a lack of support. Instead, I'm writing to make sure you know just how much support we have had in our nursing relationship.

Photo by Nicole Aarstad

Many women struggle through nursing their children in the face of partners, parents, friends, doctors, and even strangers who oppose them. They are told that they are selfish, or that the are somehow doing harm to their children. They are pressured to supplement with formula. They are urged to wean before they are ready.

You and I have faced no such challenges. When I was pregnant with you, your father never questioned that you would be breastfed. He whole-heartedly supported my desire to breastfeed. When I tentatively told him the things I was learning about allowing babies to self-wean in their own time, and that doing so sounded to me like the best thing to do, he didn't raise an eyebrow.

Despite your petite size, no one, medically trained or otherwise, has suggested that you needed anything other than my milk to thrive. I have nursed you in public, and if anyone has given us a dirty or questioning look, I haven't noticed it, probably because I was too busy noticing the people smiling at us instead.

I remember the only time I got nervous that someone was going to say something negative to us. We were at Daddy's friend's wedding, and it was a stifling hot day in July. The wedding was outdoors, but there was an air-conditioned building nearby. When you got fussy in the midst of the wedding ceremony, I excused myself to nurse you in the cool building. As we sat together on a bench while you quenched your thirst, I noticed a woman approaching us with a young girl. She was making her way toward us quickly, purposefully, and I braced myself for what I was anticipating to be the first negative reaction to my breastfeeding you.

It is because of all of the horror stories I have heard that I expected to be admonished by that woman, told that I should cover up, or go "do that" in the bathroom, or that I should have brought a bottle. She said none of those things. What she did was ask if I minded if her daughter watched me feed you (I didn't mind a bit), and went on to tell me how lucky I was to be breastfeeding you, how her daughter wasn't able to latch well, and how she exclusively pumped for 6 months to provide her daughter with the breast milk she so desperately wanted her to have. I will never forget that woman, and I made sure to tell her that her daughter was lucky too, to have a mother so dedicated to giving her breast milk that she took on the commitment and effort required to pump milk around the clock.

That was not the first time I've been told that I'm "lucky" in regards to breastfeeding. I'm told that I'm lucky that your daddy is so supportive, lucky that our doctor agrees with our choices, lucky that I've never been harassed for nursing in public.

Now, this is meant to be happy letter, but there's something in this that saddens me a little. The experience of a normal, healthy nursing relationship, free of the unnecessary obstacles that come with a lack of support, should not be based on luck. It should be normal. I guess we're fortunate that it's our normal, but it should not be so unusual that I'm told over and over again how lucky I am and how good I have it.

I will continue to nurse you until you're ready to stop. I'll continue to do my part in normalizing breastfeeding by doing it in public, by talking about it, and yes, by sharing photographs of it. I'll participate in nurse-ins, virtual or otherwise. I'll do as many of these things as I can even long after you've weaned. I don't do these things in order to receive the sort of "congratulations" our doctor gave me this morning, or to raise a fuss, or to scream "Look at me!". I do these things for nursing mothers everywhere, but most of all, I do them for you. I do them in hopes that one day, should you become a mother, and should you decide to breastfeed your children, you will not have to count on "luck" in order to enjoy a breastfeeding experience that is not merely tolerated, that is not just supported, but that is celebrated.

Love,

Mama

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Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Crunch Time!

Dear Delilah,

My letters to you are likely to be fewer and further between over the next couple of weeks. By the time you're old enough to read this, you might not remember that when you were a baby I was going to school, working on completing my Bachelor's Degree. You might have a clearer memory of me working on my Master's, since you'll be a little older by then, and if I ever get around to a PhD, you're likely to be an adult yourself!

Anyway, being in school means that this is a busy time of year for more than the usual reasons. In addition to your birthday and the holidays, this time of year means finals are fast approaching, and that I have lots of research to do, papers to write, projects to complete, and tests to study for. This year, your Auntie's wedding is also on the horizon, and preparing for that joyous event adds to the "busy"! With so much to do, I'd rather spend my free time playing and being with you, rather than writing about you, so here we are.

I do want to write to you about your first birthday and birthday party, and some memories from your newborn days that are being brought to mind by the cooler weather we're having. I'll try to make time over the next few days for that, but for now, since you're sleeping, I need to finish up some reading in preparation for class tomorrow. Just remember, more time between letters means more time spent enjoying you!

Love,

Mama

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Friday, November 12, 2010

Baby's First Fright

Dear Delilah,

The further you progress in your development, the greater the range of emotions you display. I’m spoiled in that the feelings you let on to the most often are those of joy, amusement, curiosity, accomplishment, and utter delight. Every now and again, you express frustration or a flash of anger. Up until the other night, one thing I’d never seen from you was sheer, unbridled fear.

The object of your terror?


That’s right. A bright and shiny butterfly balloon, a birthday gift from Jesse, who you go to for daycare sometimes when Grandma Bev can’t watch you. When I picked you up, she mentioned that when she showed it to you, you seemed a little scared of it, so she took it away. I thought the balloon was awesome, so I was excited for us to play together with it!

When Daddy got home from work, I went out to the van to get the balloon and bring it inside. As I brought it near you, a look of concern crossed your face. I brought it closer, and your face grew more alarmed until it clearly communicated the panic you were feeling, complete with a little cry of fear as you started shaking uncontrollably.

I felt horrible. I moved the balloon away and picked you up to hold you and comfort you. Your dread subsided quickly, and we went on with our evening. You had chili for the first time for dinner (you loved it!). After dinner, daddy cleaned you up and changed you into your pajamas and then took you back out to the living room to play while I washed up the dishes. Apparently, moving the balloon away from your play area wasn’t enough; you didn’t even want it in the same room as you! Daddy brought it into the kitchen, saying you kept looking at it with that scared little face. When I carried you through the kitchen to put you to bed, you wouldn’t take your eyes off of it.

I don’t know what it is about that pretty balloon that scared you so much. Maybe it’s the size, or the way it reflects the light, or the way it floats around. This was your first experience with a balloon, and it might have been helpful to know that you were scared of them before your Uncle Rudy and I picked out the balloon bouquet for your birthday party tomorrow. I’ve been using my knowledge of exposure therapy to get you more comfortable with the butterfly balloon, but if those balloons strike fear you in the way the butterfly balloon did, don’t fear, sweet girl. Mama will protect you from the mean, scary balloons!

Love,

Mama

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Thursday, November 11, 2010

Happy 1st Birthday!

Dear Delilah,

Happy Birthday! I can hardly believe this day has arrived. Today is not only a big day for you, it’s the anniversary of a big day for me. The day you were born was the most anticipated, most important, most exciting, most scary, most emotional, and most joyful day of my life. I am certainly celebrating the birth of you, but am also celebrating the birth of myself as a mother. I’m celebrating that your father and I got you through your first year with no major injuries or illnesses. I’m celebrating that we made it through the newborn days, when I was afraid I might never sleep again.


I’ll admit that I have mixed emotions today. It’s a day to honor the beginning of your life, but it is also indicative of an ending on the horizon. Your infancy is drawing to a close, and your toddler days are fast approaching. You are already growing up so fast, and I constantly have to remind myself to treasure every moment.

Delilah, I love you more than I knew I could love anyone. I now know what it means to love unconditionally. I know that my patience extends far beyond I ever thought it could. Your existence makes me a better person. I strive to be the absolute best version of myself that I can, so that you will grow up with a mother you can be proud of.

Every smile that has brightened your face has made my heart dance. Every giggle that has passed your lips has filled my soul with joy. The day of your birth began a new chapter in my life, one that will last for the rest of my days. For as long as I live, I will be your mother, and you will be my precious, beloved child. Happy Birthday Baby.

Love,

Mama


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Wednesday, November 10, 2010

My Tiny Little Teacher

Dear Delilah,

This is one of my favorite photos of myself of all time:


The day that photo was taken one year ago, I was in the very early stages of labor with you. I had contractions on and off throughout the day. Daddy and I went to what ended up being our last doctor appointment of our pregnancy with you. I went to class that evening, and the classmate who sat to my left touched my belly a few times, awed at how firm it got when a contraction washed over it. Several other classmates followed her lead and asked to touch my belly too, saying they had been wanting to for a while. It’s a good thing they asked that night; it turned out to be their last chance!

Just about 12 hours after your dad took that picture of me in the backyard, I woke up with painful contractions. After having 5 within half an hour, I woke your father up and we started preparing to head to the hospital. Less than 24 hours after that photo was taken, I was holding you in my arms.

Other than the day I married your father, on which you helped contribute to my happy glow, that was the most beautiful I’ve ever felt. I was huge. I was beautiful. I was uncomfortable. I was beautiful. I waddled. I was beautiful. I could hardly get up off the couch without assistance. I was beautiful.

There are a lot of old wives tales about how to tell if you’re having a boy or girl. One of them says that boys give you beauty, and girls take it way. I disagree. You made me more beautiful than I’ve ever been. Carrying you inside of me taught me the true meaning of beauty. You’ll teach me many more lessons, not just about beauty, but about life, as the years pass by. I will try to learn every lesson you have to teach me with patience, grace, and the due diligence it deserves. Thank you for coming into my life, Dear Delilah. Thank you for choosing me, not only for your mother, but for your humble and eager student.

Love,

Mama

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Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Day Light Might be Saved; Night Time is NOT

Dear Delilah,

Unlike most parents I talk to, I was looking forward to "falling back" for Day Light Savings time this year. Many parents anticipated the time change in fear of their kids waking up an hour too early, frustrated at having to work to gradually adjust bed time and waking time to the clock.

Not I! For reasons unbeknownst to me, but likely having to do with all the teeth fighting their way through your gums, you had started going to bed (and waking up) later and later in the weeks preceding the time change. I couldn't wait to move the clocks back an hour; I was certain it would mean that your bedtime would get back to a respectable 8:00, and your waking time a manageable 7:00. Bring on the time change!

Except, it didn't quite happen that way. Somehow, you are still staying up until past 9:00 (which would have been 10:00 a week ago!), and yet you are up and ready to face the day at 6:00. Thankfully, if I bring you into bed with me and leave you with ready access to my milk, you're content to let me sleep for another hour so, nursing at will, playing quietly in bed, and petting the cats.

My dreams of returning to a consistent sleep routine have been dashed. This morning, you ended up falling back to sleep along with me, and we slept in until 9:30. You didn't start your nap until 2:30, and you're still napping almost two hours later. If I don't wake you up soon, it's bound to be another late night with you. Will we ever get this mystical and elusive "sleep routine" down?

This morning, I noticed that we neglected to change the clock in your bedroom back an hour like we should have. The only explanation for why DST didn't magically solve your ever-later bed time is that you are the genius I assume you to be, and you've up and learned to tell time on me! Time to wake you up now, sleeping beauty.

Love,

Mama

Saturday, November 6, 2010

I Stand Corrected

Dear Delilah,

I wrote to you the other day about how Daddy got sick with Swine Flu just before you were born. Something in that letter made him very, very upset. He was appalled that I mistakenly wrote that the moment his fever broke had something to do with Brett Favre. It had nothing to do with Brett Favre!

In the interest of accuracy, I owe it your father to correct myself. His fever broke when the Buccaneers beat the Packers. The Final score was 38-28.

When he and I first started dating, I was under the impression that your father was a Packer fan. As it turns out, he's actually a Brett Favre fan. He has faithfully followed him from team to team, and has Favre Jerseys in every flavor: Packers, Jets, and now Vikings. He'll have to be the one to explain exactly why he was happy that the Buccaneers won that game, because quite frankly, I don't get it. It remains to be seen which team he'll be cheering for next year, assuming that Brett Favre finally retires for real.

Don't worry, I'm raising you to be a Bears fan.


Love,

Mama

Thursday, November 4, 2010

This Little Piggy

Dear Delilah,

With the exception of your turning a deaf ear to my requests to maneuver out of your breech position, you were a surprisingly good listener while in utero. On the way to our appointment for the anatomy scan ultrasound, your father and I told you not to by shy, and that it's okay to show your private parts to mommy, daddy, and medical personnel, so go ahead and show your bits to the nice sonographer. You listened so well that it was a challenge for the sonographer to get any other views; you kept flipping to display your girly bits for the camera!

Most pregnant women become anxious for the "full term" milestone, which means that it's considered safe for the baby to come any time. While I breathed a sigh of relief when the time came that you'd no longer be considered premature, I still wasn't in a huge hurry for you to be born. First, that was because I was still hoping to get you flipped, as you well know by now. When Anka first got sick and we weren't aware of the severity of her illness, I gently requested to you that you wait to make your appearance until we made our final decisions about her, and you complied. And then...

The year you were born, 2009, was the year of the "Swine Flu" pandemic. Pregnant women were considered to be one of the highest risk groups for complications from this flu, and it was spreading like wildfire. I'm not the flu shot kind of gal, and I believe in the power of positive thinking. I knew that I would be well. I'd stay healthy. I'd be fine. Your father was thinking positively too...positive that he'd get sick.

Daddy's job involves going to schools and talking to teachers, and schools were one of the places where swine flu was spreading the fastest. Daddy got swine flu. His symptoms started 9 days before your estimated due date. Our family doctor put us both on anti-viral medication-for him to help lessen the severity and shorten the duration of symptoms, and for me to prevent getting sick. Friends and family started insisting that I get out of the house and stay away from him. I knew I'd be fine, and I was not about to leave my husband, sicker than he'd ever been, to fend for himself.

I stayed. I took care of him. I put blankets on him when he got the chills and cold washcloths on his forehead when he got the sweats. I pumped him full of liquids and vitamins. People started asking me about a flu shot, but it was too late for that. I'd been exposed, and if I was going to get sick, I was going to get sick. But I wasn't going to get sick.

All the while people were pleading with me to get a flu shot, to get away from the house, to get out, get out, get out, I was pleading with YOU to stay put. I begged you to stay comfortably inside of me until Daddy felt better. If you came before he was better, he couldn't be there for your birth. The hospital implemented such strict visiting restrictions during the flu epidemic that if your daddy couldn't have been there, no one else could have been there either. (That's why you don't have photos of numerous grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles, and friends holding you in our hospital room. They weren't allowed!)

You listened. You stayed put. Daddy's fever broke on Sunday. I think he remembers the exact moment because it had something to do with Brett Favre, and...a touch down pass? You'll have to ask him. He knows. He still wasn't quite tip-top, so he planned to wait a couple of days to go back to work. Wednesday was to be his first day back at work. Wednesday was the day I woke up at 2 am with contractions about 6 minutes apart. Wednesday was the day you were born.

I thanked you then, and I'll thank you again now. Thank you for waiting to make your appearance until your Daddy could be there for your debut. I won't say that I couldn't have done it without him, but I certainly wouldn't have wanted to. Remember, as you grow, when I ask something of you, to listen like you did then. Mommy really does know best!

Love,

Mama

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Your Guardian Angel

Dear Delilah,

I’ve mentioned the roller coaster that was the few weeks leading up to your birth. Today is the anniversary of one of the lowest points of that ride. One year ago today, we lost our beloved yellow lab Anka.



Anka was a great dog. She was sweet, affectionate, and beautiful. She loved running laps and wasn’t picky about whether those laps were around the maple tree in our backyard or around the coffee table in the living room. She was a master retriever and would play fetch for hours. Poor Sadie couldn’t keep up! Sadie could never get to a thrown object before Anka could, so she gave up trying and learned how to play defense instead! Anka was very non-confrontational, so she never tried to steal her ball or Frisbee back from Sadie, she’d let her have it, find something else that could be thrown, and prance over to us to throw the new item instead.

Anka got very sick from Lyme disease last fall. The day after Halloween, she was at her sickest yet, and when we took her in to the vet, we found out that her kidneys were failing and that she was in a lot of pain and wouldn’t get better. The decision to have her put to sleep was painful and difficult. We loved her so much, and she was so young. We wanted her to meet you. We knew she would love you. Seeing you with our other pets now, we know that you’d love her too, although chances are you’d get tired of getting knocked over by her wild tail that never stopped wagging.

She was put to sleep peacefully in our home by her favorite veterinarian. It was a time of mixed emotions. It’s hard to figure out how to grieve the loss of a dog who was not merely a pet, but a member of our family, while at the same time being so excited about the birth of you, our baby girl. One of our greatest sources of comfort was knowing that Anka was still with us in spirit and that she would watch over and protect you. Her energy still fills our home to this day, and you are a lucky little girl to have the best guardian angel dog anyone could ask for.

Love,

Mama

Monday, November 1, 2010

The Something I Can Do

Dear Delilah,

Tomorrow, when we embark on our morning walk, we will set out on one of our familiar routes. We’ll need to make a break in the routine though, a stop at the school a few blocks from home. Why? Because that is our polling place and tomorrow is Election Day, so we’ll be stopping there so I can cast my vote.

I try to be aware of and informed about the political issues that are relevant in any given election, and pay close attention to the ones that are the most important to me. Since becoming your mother, I also put my focus on the issues that I think will be most important to you as you grow up in this country. I don’t have allegiance to any particular political party, so you won’t hear me espousing the values of this party or that one. Rather, I consider each candidate as an individual, and choose the one whose values most align with my own, who appears to be the most trustworthy, and who seems to have the best interests of people like us, “common folk”, you might say, at heart.

While I hope to raise you as a free thinker with a mind of your own, chances are that you will be aware of my biases, my personal values, and my opinions on political issues, since I’m not very good at keeping them to myself. I will do my best to answer your questions about the issues and why I vote the way I do in as matter-of-fact a way as possible. Don’t be afraid to disagree with me. You might disagree with me on some issues, and that’s okay. You might even disagree with me on nearly all of them, like I do with my own mother!

Regardless of where you end up in terms of your political leanings, I do hope that you’ll be aware of and involved in the process. It’s important to pay attention to what is happening with the government and how it impacts not just you, but the world around you. Ignorance is NOT bliss. Your vote is your voice, and yes, even though you are just one person, you DO make a difference.

I’ll sign off today with one of my favorite quotes from Hellen Keller:

“I am only one, but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something. I will not refuse to do the something I can do.”

Tomorrow, you’ll join me while I do one of many ‘somethings’ I can do.

Love,

Mama
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