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Category Archives: Friends

A postpartum snapshot

I keep flashing back to this one moment after Cedar was born.  It was afternoon the next day.  I’m in bed wrapped in a sarong.  Scott is in the kitchen cooking something yummy for me and Carey just brought me some Mother’s Milk Tea. 

My dear friends are here.  Abby is one on side of the bed.  Carey is at the foot.  Cassandra is giving me an acupuncture treatment.  My Aunt Helen is meeting Cedar for the first time in another room.  Norah rushes in, sees the needles in her mommy and worries we’ll put them in her. 

We laugh and chat while the needles do their thing.  I, of course, do something clutzy.  I run my fingers through my hair forgetting there is a needle in my scalp and pull it right out. 

I don’t know why this moment stays with me so vividly.  The sense of community, perhaps?  A gift that motherhood has given me beyond my children is this new community of women. 

A rich icing on the cake.

Good Tidings

We received the BEST box of treasures from Norah’s friend, Abe.  Abe lives in Vermont and we miss him terribly.  For Norah’s birthday, he gathered some precious gifts to send her way.  They will absolutely be featured on our December nature table.

And I love the birthday card.  It is a balloon.  When we blew it up, we could read Abe’s message.  How creative!

 

Thanks Abraham and Abby!!!

Googly Eyes

placentateddy

The things I googled today–

  • postpartum hair loss
  • “the language of the brag”
  • placenta teddy bears (because people have totally lost their minds)
  • postpartum hair loss prevention
  • acorn squash recipes
  • drops like stars
  • Great Lake Swimmers

Highlights of the day–

  • Celebrating with Natalie at her blessingway
  • Getting to eat a piece of cake by Makesha
  • Visiting with friends
  • Lunch with my parents
  • Eating crusty bread with butter.  Loads of butter
  • Having a sweet, sleeping baby tied to me
  • Driving 10 miles without Cedar crying (she likes B93.7 so I cranked it)

Lowpoints of the day–

  • Cedar screaming as I sat down to lunch with my parents
  • Crying as I unsuccessfully try to calm Cedar
  • Being jealous of everyone who doesn’t have a baby tied to them
  • Thoughts of simply driving away toward the mountains as Scott drove home with the girls
  • Listening to B93.7

I want my village

I had a sneaking suspicion.  Now I know for certain:Women_at_the_Well1892

WE ARE NOT WIRED TO BE ALONE WITH CHILDREN ALL DAY LONG.

Or even half of the day.  A two hour playdate doesn’t cut it for adult support, encouragement, and relief.  A one hour phone conversation with a friend isn’t enough. 

I want my village.  I want my women who go to the well with me every morning.  The isolated nuclear family is a failed experiment.  I want a shared community.  Not a virtual community–though I would waste away without this online connection. 

I want geographic proximity.     

On my street, there are eight houses.  Of the people who are home during the day, I can choose from:  the old man who smokes while pulling his oxygen tank, the 98 year old woman, the Alzheimer woman who never leaves her house and once accused the neighbors of stealing her underwear, the third shift police officer, and the people who shoot guns at fake deer targets in the backyard.

Where are the mamas?

See, I have a 3 year old with unbelievable energy.  I read somewhere that age 3 is the biological peak for energy levels.  And then I have a 6 week old who cries when I put her down.  So I wear her and sleep beside her and nurse her.  And I love it.  I do.  It is amazing to care for this little one.  But I could use some relief arms occasionally.  My back could use some relief arms! 

Who wants to start an intentional community?  It might be a yurt community since houses aren’t selling and money is tight.  I could live in a yurt. 

As long as I have a village.

Postpartum: the good, the bad, and the ugly

Having survived my first day alone with a 3 year old and a newborn, I am–if not settling into–at least, accepting my new normal. 

Here are some highlights from my first two weeks:

Husband:  Aside from being the best birth partner on the planet, Scott played host to our visitors, cleaned house, had special daddy/daughter dates with Norah, brought me 156 million cups of Mother’s Milk Tea, made delicious breakfasts, and was the all-around hero of the story.

Family:  My family is incredible.  They have fed me, cleaned my house, and picked up strange items I needed at obscure places (my mom went all over Greenville searching for myrrh, no-sugar added coconut water, and vegetarian capsules).  And check out the wonderful cloth wipes my mother-in-law sewed.  Yes, she embroidered “Cedar” on them.  I bet I have the only personalized bum wipes in town. 

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Friends:  I knew my friends were wonderful but wow!  First, this food chain idea is the best.postpartum.gift. EVER.  Period.  We’ve been supplied with a delicious meal every night–beginning with mom bringing our traditional Sunday feast over after the birth.  I’ve had friends drive 45 minutes to an hour to bring a meal!  It has blown me away.  And Cassandra drove from the far side of the world to give me a day-after acupuncture treatment!  Spoiled.  Utterly spoiled.  And Scott keeps saying, “Wow, you have great friends!”  Yes.  Yes, I do.

Placenta:  When Carey heard I had more bleeding than expected, she swooped into action to arrange for my placenta to be encapsulated by our friend Crystal.  I had wanted to do this but felt I would be too busy with my “galactagogue plan” to take time to do it myself.  The placenta is rich in nutrients, vitamins, and hormones that can assist the body in recovering.  And many people believe that it can prevent or lessen the effects of postpartum depression.  In some studies, it has shown an 86% success rate in increasing milk supply.  So bring on the placenta. 

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Diapers:  Having never cloth diapered a newborn (we started late with Norah), I have been pleasantly surprised at how smoothly that has gone.  She hasn’t worn any disposables.  I was worried the meconium would stain.  It didn’t.  I had two grassy green stains (from the chlorophyll supplement I’m taking) that disappeared after I put the dipes in the sun for a few hours.  Magic.   

Breastfeeding:  This one is a day-by-day.  I had breast reduction surgery 12 years ago.  There have been days I supplement an ounce or so with donated breastmilk based on signs from Cedar and her weight.  I’m using a syringe and feeding her with it while she is latched and actively nursing.  I prefer this method to the SNS.  I weigh her almost daily with the same scale we used at birth.  I definitely have more milk than I did with Norah.  It takes two weeks for domperidone to reach maximum effectiveness so I’m hopeful my supply will continue to increase.  I increased my domperidone dosage from 90mg/day to 120mg/day this week.  Unfortunately, the domperidone causes horrible headaches and the only thing that helps is a cup of coffee.  Do I give my child caffeine so that I can continue to make milk?  Yep.  I’ve been reading that the headaches fade with time.  So we’re still in a wait-and-see place.  But I’m hopeful.  And regardless, I know I’ve done everything I could.  I feel really positive. 

Babywearing:  Hoorah for wearing babies!  Cedar loves being worn.  So far, the Maya ring sling and the Moby wrap have been her favorites.  I didn’t expect to use the ring sling much since I prefer wraps.  I would have gotten a prettier sling.  I’m disappointed that she doesn’t like the My BabyNest.  But that is why I have so many products–she might like it next week…

In other news, I’ve been pooped on 4 times and peed on 3 times.  I’ve realized I need more nursing tanks.  I spend most of my day nursing.  I’m writing this blog entry with a sleeping baby snuggled to my chest in a Moby wrap.  I love it.

Maternity Pictures

My snazzy friend, Abby, gifted me with a photo shoot with her snazzy friend, Erin O’Neil.  Erin is a talented photographer in Greenville.  It was fun, kinda awkward, and flattering all at once. 

Interested in more of Erin’s photography?  You can check her website for more info.

A Blessingway for Me

Not to be confused with the monthly Blessingway I help host each 4th Saturday at Earth Fare. 

My beautiful friends, sister, and mom threw a Blessingway for me.  It was so perfect.  A Blessingway or Mother Blessing is a ritual to celebrate the transition into motherhood (or motherhood again).  While baby showers are fun and result in lots of presents for the baby, a Blessingway focuses on the mother.  It is usually spiritual and ceremonial. 

IMG_8462For my Blessingway, guests were instructed to bring a small plant that would become part of my birth garden.  Each guest wrote a word or phrase to include with their plant; words like “center” or “relax.”  The plants are meant to surround me physically during my birthing time. 

I was also given a foot bath during which each mother dropped rose petals into the water while sharing their wisdom.  The not-yet mothers present massaged my hands.  Yes, I cried. 

I received a journal filled with wise words from my guests. 

And finally, we passed around a cord–each woman wrapping it around her wrist–that was then cut to make bracelets.  My sweet friends will wear the cords and remember me until Cedar is born.  And I don’t think it will be long…

The food was exotic and yummy.  The amazing Makesha made a perfect cake and petit fours.  It was such a special time.  Thank you Carey, Abby, Noelle, and Mom for the celebration.

What happens when…

What happens when… 

a doula, a midwife apprentice, and a childbirth educator get together for a playdate? 

Why, something happens to my hair, of course!  Last time, it was significantly chopped.  This time, it was henna’d.  Ooo, I love it! 

I hate maintenance.  I despise getting a hair cut.  I have never colored my hair out of fear of continuing maintenance (ok, there was that one time in college that resulted in a cranberry-streaked disaster).  I don’t own a curling iron, blow dryer, straightener, etc.  My hair routine is wash (no shampoo, of course), scrunch with some lavendar water and gel, and air dry. 

Still, my hair seems a little dull these days.  Henna seemed like a good option to pick up some highlights, cover a few strands that are betraying me, and add some conditioning.  Caryn graciously agreed to do it all for me hold my hand. 

It turned out perfect.  No dramatic change.  I doubt anyone (who doesn’t read my blog, that is) will notice.  And the best part about henna–it simply fades over time…no roots showing through…no maintenance.

The lovely Angela after puddle-jumping

Angela--a professional puddle-jumper

So what is involved?  I bought some henna at Whole Foods.  It was pretty inexpensive–6.99.  We brewed tea to mix with it.  You can use coffee for deeper brown tones.  Added apple cider vinegar and an egg.  Then Caryn painted my hair with a paintbrush until I looked like I had been puddle-jumping at Camp Pinnacle.

And like post-puddle-jumping, I simply rinsed, rinsed, rinsed until most of the grit disappeared down the drain.

And to think, before I became a mom, I imagined playdates as boring, stuffy affairs. 

    

 

On Women and Infidelity

I have some thoughts. 

And maybe a theory.  Though even as I type it, I sound presumptuous.     

I think it would be hard to have an affair if you have excellent girlfriends.

Gulp. 

I’m basing my theory on personal experience alone.  See, I have excellent girlfriends.  They sweep me off my feet with surprise and romance.  We routinely get carried away.  In a completely heterosexual way, of course.  

Now my sister is my best friend but she’s family.  And I expect family to support me, be there for me, etc.  She has to listen to me and come when I need her.  Ah, but friends–they could leave me (oh dreadful day) or let me down (never). 

They choose.  

How does this prevent infidelity?  My girlfriends meet needs for intimacy that my husband cannot/does not meet.  I absolutely could not expect Scott to meet all my intimacy needs.  How exhausting.  My husband is extraordinary–he listens over and over again as I process tricky scenarios or have a meltdown at the end of a rough day.  But I’ve learned he doesn’t love listening to me recite poetry.  And while he listens a few times to the same story–you know women work out our feelings by hashing the same story several times–really, two times is his limit. 

My days are filled with beautiful friends.  Most memorable moments lately:

  • apple picking
  • pie-baking day
  • sitting in a car sharing secrets while the babes sleep
  • a full day of eating yummy foods thrown together at the last minute in the midst of uncontrolled chaos
  • making vegetable soup
  • sharing a bottle of wine with one who had a rough day 
  • dreaming over the phone with the most amazing massage therapist on earth  
  • discovering this sign posted above my head only after Norah spilled her juice and ran amuk at coffee underground:

There is something utterly breathtaking about strong mommy-friends.  The shared vulnerabilities (that none of us really know what the heck we’re doing or if we’re ruining our children for life), the forgiving nature of playdates (that naps must come first–mine or the child’s–and that I may be wearing the same clothes I did the day before), and the help, oh the help (like the time Carey role-played niceness so Norah would get the hang of um, not yelling at me). 

What more could I need?

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