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Arctic Walk
To dispel the doom and gloom of yesterday, I decided to take the bug out for a walk. Getting out and about always cheers me up. The problem is, these days I start everything way too late. I didn’t get outside until about 5 pm and it was freezing cold!!!! Well, for Southern California it was cold. I’d say it was about 50 degrees farenheit, which to me is like 29 degrees below zero. Brrrrrrrrrrr!
I bundled Baby Bug up in long pants, a onsie with long fold-over sleeves, some socks that actually stay on (Trumpettes by the way, best baby socks ever! Thank you Kate.) a hat and a blanket! I bundled myself up in a thin sweatshirt and my old favorite red beanie. I’ve missed my old red beanie.
I didn’t wear it for my entire pregnancy because I thought it made my face look round and chubby. I do not like my round and chubby face. Never mind that it’s genetics and the sooner I embrace it the better. But now, post pregnancy, I’m a new woman! There’s nothing like being pregnant to make you feel incredibly skinny when it’s all over. I love stepping on the scale these days. No matter what I eat, I keep losing weight. Just like you all predicted, the pounds are falling off.
But I was talking about my walk in the arctic. It was freezing cold and I felt guilty for taking Baby Bug out in the ice cold breeze. But she seemed comfortable enough, all snuggled up in a sling and threatening to smother herself to death in my chest. She slept for the entire walk.
On our way back home, I crossed paths with a couple who also had a baby. The dad had a sling strapped to his chest just like mine. I couldn’t help myself, it was like we belonged to the same club or something. I stopped them and asked them how old their baby was. “Five weeks, going on six,” said the dad. Then the mom, with bags under her eyes and a big baggy un-tucked shirt said, “Isn’t it nice to get out and feel human again?”
It is. I agreed. It is.
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Spotty Days
Now that Baby Bug has a full blown case of baby acne, I’m wondering if the same hormones that are messing with her body are the ones that are playing ping pong with mine. She woke up this morning with spots everywhere. On her cheeks, on her neck and even on the back of her head. I woke up crying. I hope it will pass.
It’s funny. I know I’m doing a good job being a mom. Baby Bug is getting chubbier every day. But the nursing just seems so unnatural sometimes. I guess I always thought I’d be like Brooke Shields in Blue Lagoon and the baby would find her way to my nipple all by herself. I didn’t realize how agonizing it would be to not be able to make your baby happy over and over and over again. Sometimes I feel like such a failure. I know I’m not. But it’s hard to not feel like one.
I figure it’s just hormones. Not full blown postpartum blues. Just a case of the neglatives. You know, when everything in your house seems dirty and if the cat throws up one more time in your favorite pair of shoes, you swear you are going to throw the cat out the window.
When Toby and I couldn’t agree on what design we should go with for our month-late birth announcements, I completely fell apart. I started questioning my whole identity. If I’m not a good designer any more, then who am I? Should I take my whole website down because I feel like my work is flat and I can’t figure out how to get my gallery pages back up? The doubts rained down on me like hail.
I know I’m a mom now and that is the best job I can ever have…but is that enough? Will I disappear into diaper-and-spit-up-land and be forgotten? And why am I so driven by praise? Isn’t doing what’s right for Baby Bug enough? Why do I feel like I need a cheering section just to get through the day?
