Rule #2

When Jonah was about 15 months old I weaned him.  It wasn't voluntary for either of us, but the truth is that he couldn't keep dairy products down and that made it impossible to nurse him.  This was all due to a horrible virus that I managed to pick up about five days after he got sick.  Mine was much worse.  I didn't eat at all for at least three days and even after that I was pretty hesitant to eat anything that I might not want to ever see again.

The result... a doctor's visit.  He was given an antibiotic, which he turned out to be allergic to.  So we went in again.  This time we couldn't get in to see our regular pediatrician so we saw a new doctor who weighed Jonah and started to make dissatisfied noises about his weight gain.  He hadn't gained any weight at all.  This was actually just before his 18 month check-up (the sick seemed to drag on a while) and so she started making noises about seeing a specialist and testing him for all sorts of things.

The thing is, I knew that he was just fine.  He had been sick and lost some weight, but he was active and happy and he ate well.  My gut was telling me that he didn't need to be put through the blood draws and urine samples and whatever else they wanted to subject him to.  I didn't have charts or graphs or studies or statistics, but I knew that he was just fine.

I told the pediatrician that I would talk to my regular ped about it.

My twin sister reminded me that she was doing the right thing.  It was her job to be concerned about his lack of weight gain.  It was a good thing.  But part of me was a little angry.  I was annoyed that this woman, who did not know me, or my child, would not trust me when I told her that I didn't think there was anything wrong with my child.

About a week later I saw our regular pediatrician and she looked at the chart and the note that her colleague had written and said that she thought it was probably unnecessary to test him.  He came from small parents and had always been at the lower end of the weight spectrum... and I wasn't concerned.  She said that she would test him if I felt it was necessary, but she thought we should just watch it for a while and if he didn't gain anything over the next 6 months we might revisit the topic.

Rule #2: Always listen to your gut.

I could have freaked out and put my child through all sorts of tests just to accommodate this doctor, but I didn't.  I can't tell you how affirming it was to have our regular pediatrician listen to whether I felt that there might be a problem rather than just look at the growth charts.

It can be so confusing to be a mother.  Do you vaccinate?  Do you have natural childbirth?  Do you supplement?  Do you co-sleep?  Do you let them cry it out?  You can read every study, every recommendation from every specialist, or expert and still feel overwhelmed and unsure.  None of them agree, and if you aren't doing it someone else's way, you are doing it wrong.  You'll probably screw them up.  It's always the mother's fault.

If we will eventually be blamed anyway, we might as well be as informed as possible, but let our gut make the final decision.  In the end, it only really matters if you did your best.  If you were true to what you know, and what you believe, you will be doing your best.  It's not about making decisions from a place of fear or anger.  It's about making your choices as a parent from a place of love and intuition.

Rule #1

The thing about having #3 so close to having Caroline is that my body hasn't quite bounced back.  For instance, I still have those wispy little bangs from where my hair fell out.  They are now of a more normal length, but that's almost kind of worse because it looks like they are intentional.  Which they are not.  I do not look good with bangs.

The other thing is that now, at exactly 12 weeks, I am already dipping into the maternity clothes.  That pooch that eventually lessens (does it ever go away??) hadn't really gotten all that "less" yet.

When I was pregnant with Jonah, Josh and I went to Edisto Island with the youth group from the church we had attended in Johnson City, TN.  They were helping a small congregation with a building project.  I was 6 months pregnant so I spent my time cooking and shopping (for groceries) and doing other things along those lines.  In the evening all the girls would come back and they would shower, go to the beach and sit around talking.  One of the girls asked me something along the lines of, "Has your body changed much?"

Even at 6 months with my first one I laughed.  I told her that I was pretty sure that my body wouldn't ever be the same again.  And I was okay with it.  My belly was stretching and there were the red lines running down my abdomen to prove it.  My balance was all off, and I got tired very easily.  Someone else had taken up residency in my body, and now I had to share it until they decided to leave.

The funny thing is that I learned more about my body from their presences than I ever would have thought possible.  I carried Jonah high and I carried Caroline low, and either way I was suddenly more aware of everything.  More aware of what I eat and drink and how I stand or sit.  If I slouched I'd get an elbow in the bladder or heartburn.

The loss of my own bodily autonomy (to some extent) has made me more aware of myself physically and emotionally.  My needs and actions are sometimes contrary to their desires and the result can be difficult to deal with at first.  it is the first step to motherhood, though.  It is the first rule, being applied so that you will never forget it.

Rule #1: Your needs and desires will have to come second.

This rule isn't absolute, and it fades away when they get older, but I can still see my mother living this fundamental rule when she drops everything to fly off to North Carolina or Tennessee to help my sisters, or when she spends time with my children so I can work, or when I can see the conflict on her face because she cannot be in two places at once.

When I was pregnant it was easy to get this rule.  Don't drink cokes, it will give you heartburn.  Don't slouch, Jonah will kick you in the side.  Eat regularly.  Learn how to give birth.  Not that complicated.  And then he was born.  Then I find myself sleeping while sitting up in the rocker, or nursing for hours on end, or unable to get up and go to the bathroom when I need to go for any number of reasons.  I was always just out of reach of the thing I needed, and unable to move, lest I wake or disturb my child.  I couldn't sleep more than a few hours at a time.

I did eventually learn to deal with those things- after all, he was a helpless baby.  Now he's three and I find that I am still constrained by him, just in different ways.  We can't just get in the car and go.  He has to buckle his own seatbelt and he has to say the magic words to open or close the car doors... heaven help you if you forget one of his crucial steps.  I imagine it will be something like this until he moves out.  

And it's okay. It's just Rule #1.  Just the first of many changes you make as a mother.

Momentary

This afternoon I was sitting at the kitchen table, alone, checking my e-mail and enjoying my momentary peace, when I looked up and saw a painted bunting at my bird feeder.  It's not the first time I've seen one, but it hung around a while and I got to look at it pretty closely.  They are beautiful birds.

I started noticing birds when I was pretty young.  When we would visit my Granny and Papa we would sit at the breakfast table and watch the birds eat from their numerous bird feeders.  Their patio was always full of flowers and wind chimes and plants that I learned the names of.  Hen and Chicks were my favorites.

There were also dozens of birds.  Many of them were just black birds, but there were hummingbirds and all sorts of other birds as well.  My grandparents could usually identify most or all of them.  They would flock to the tree shuffling around, looking for the best spot to eat.  Jays and Cardinals would drive the others off temporarily.  Occasionally we'd see one of the neighbor's peacocks or a deer.   My parents once saw a wildcat sneak up on some big birds and pounce on one.

I don't have as many birds as my grandparents.  I have seen deer and owls and even a fox in our yard, but they don't stay long.  Nothing really stays long around here except for the fat squirrels who have discovered how to climb off the side of the roof onto my bird feeder to plunder the seeds.

Life gets very busy around here and I only occasionally get the opportunity to really sit down alone in the quiet of the house.  For a moment today, I got to regard this beautiful bird before it flew off.  Before I had to go put a baby back to sleep.  Before the laundry begged to be folded.