16 Months

Dearest Leah,

You continue to be the brightest part of my day, but I'll admit, you're starting to become a bit challenging. While I encourage your curiosities and propensity to question authority, I kind of umm, I don't like it. Partly because I worry too much about your safety, and partly because I am really tired already of say No! and PLEASEDON'TTOUCHTHAT (it reads exactly like it sounds coming out of my mouth). But mostly, it's the idea that I probably have another three plus years of those two phrases... Ahh well. You're too stinking cute to be annoyed for long at all.

You really do not like loud noises. Daddy sneezing, blenders, but most notably public toilets and hand dryers. You start to cry if the shopping cart so much as points towards the general vicinity of the restrooms at costco.  

You really, really hate it.

Another of your immense dislikes are the swings at the park. This, I did not see coming. But you literally shake and cry if we try to put you in them or even attempt to swing with you on our lap. But we'll keep trying every few weeks or so.

We've been working on your eating skills, specifically eating with a spoon. Since you've been feeding yourself since 7 months, you are great with your hands, but you seem puzzled by the spoon. 

I help you scoop some food up, and you can get the spoon in your mouth just fine. But you still aren't sure how the food gets on the spoon. And you'll keep putting the spoon back in your mouth even if there is no more food on it. And like everything else you do, it's pretty adorable. 

You chatter like a little spider monkey, and most recently have picked up saying Dada, and Yeah. The important thing is that you really know what Dada means, but you usually just say DA! And now you've started to cal me DA! And while I know you know Mama, I don't really mind because we're both your parents. And either way, there is an inflection of affection behind the way you say it. 

And I love that. 

 Leah and DA!

Leah and other DA!

You love walking up and down our street, and most importantly up the three stairs on our porch. We usually spend a good ten minutes a day on the stairs alone.

I want you to know, that every morning I wake up excited to see you. To think about what the day will have in store... The moment I open the door to your room, your smell wafts right into my face, and I can't help but smile. You're going to think we're nuts, but sometimes your dad and I will bring one of the two blankets you use and take turns smelling it before bed. And most of the time we sleep with it. I know, it sounds crazy. 

But we just can't get enough of you. 

Can't wait to see what the next month brings.

Love, Momma

Contributing To NIAW

I know my voice here isn't as loud as it used to be. But the good news is I've been able to make it heard on Face.book. There were several years during NIAW, that I felt shame for not feeling like I could speak out about our infertility. To tell our friends and family about what was going on, and be an advocate for myself and the others who were struggling. I don't remember when or what my first post about IF was on FB, but I do recall tiptoeing in and that it really wasn't very long ago. Although now I'm pretty much a certified loudmouth an online Billboard for advocacy.  

While I haven't kept up on the daily posts on FB about NIAW, I have commented and liked all of 'my sister's' posts. But today, something made me stop what I was doing, and get this up:

This was the post by Jennepper, that I shared. (She's the f'ing bomb.) I got a few comments, and likes, which I'll admit, I stalked to see who and how many likes I'd get. But then I got this message from a friend:

"Hey there! Just wanted to say how much I appreciate these posts about IF. I've always had a really hard time talking about it (still do), but the things you've posted and blogs that you've introduced me to really help to normalize things and help me feel supported. As I'm sitting here in B's (our acupuncturist) waiting room - who I truly believe played a huge part in us having J (their daughter) - I wanted to say thank you! For putting me in touch with her, for knowing what we're going thru, and for being so courageous to share. Hope you guys are well! Would love a play date soon!"

(I believe she and her husband did two fresh IVF cycles before I referred her to my Acu lady, then she got pregnant on their next transfer. Not sure if it was fresh or frozen.)

It's funny, but I'd forgotten about the overwhelming guilt and shame I harbored, until I got her message. And thinking about it all just made me reflect on how bad things were for a while, how good they are now, and how grateful I am to have made it out with merely a few flesh wounds. Not that you're ever really out, but I have to believe the worst is over. I just have to.

Anyway, I wanted to share that note because it was validating in so many ways. And I'm grateful to my friend for writing it. Even if I am the only one she can ever say that to. And so for right now, I am her voice. Just like many were for me, when I couldn't speak for myself.

It's Coming

My weekend away with Brian. And away from Leah. 

Blaaaaarrrg.

Two very different sets of emotions. On one hand I'm a little giddy, packing nighties and dresses (which I'm not totally accustom to wearing) to look nice for my wonderful hubby, and enjoying the fact that I won't have to worry about getting diaper cream, snot, milk, or avocado on any of them.  All the while contemplating self inflicted injuries, illnesses and circumstances which would prevent me from leaving the house/my daughter.

I feel edgy. Anxious. Borderline fearful. 

I KNOW.

SHE WILL BE FINE.

But NO ONE can do my job, the way I do it. 

And that is how I want it done.

When I first posted about this you all commented about how the days leading up to it would be the hardest. And damn it, you're so right. So when I read your words I made a mental note to be especially kind to myself this week. And watch for the crazy to creep in. But it caught me anyway. I've been what you might call, difficult, all week. (There were some outside factor s too). But mostly, I've been cranky. Unreasonably cranky. 

I decided after all that I will go with Brian the full two and a half days. We leave Friday around noon. And return Sunday afternoon...

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this...

Right?

Poster Child For Change

I don't know any other way to say this. Cliche's be damned. 

I have a new found respect for life.  

It's not that I didn't have a healthy one before, honestly nothing has made my own mortality more apparent than becoming a mother. But I have another level of appreciation for the biological side of it. For my body and just how much time I may or may not have in it. 

And I want to take better care of it. 

As you know I started losing weight again about 8 weeks ago.  Almost 13lbs down in that time. Not too shabby. While I obviously failed at not using food to cope with the stress of my biopsy, I still feel like fundamentally I am learning more about what foods are best for my body. 

I'm working to consume more whole foods. Proteins especially, grains, fruits and veggies. And eliminating processed stuff like breads and pastas. As much as I love them them so.  It's not about the carbs, I eat rice, oatmeal, and quinoa (and fruit). It's just the processed stuff. So far it's going well. 

I was able to lose the bulk of the weight strictly by diet, but two weeks ago Brian and I started working with a personal trainer. No, we can't afford it. But we're not actually paying for it. The trainer is a tenant in the building behind Brian's office, and he asked Brian if we would be interested in trading services. We said hell to the yes, and he's been kicking our asses ever since. 

The bummer part is that I've actually gained weight, but I know this is due to the strengthening of muscles, (sore muscles retain water, muscle is heavier than fat...) Yada yada. I've lost an inch around my waist and an inch around each thigh, but it's tough to feel successful when my progress used to be based on what the scale said each week. And ohmyhell am I constantly sore. Anyway, our trainer is great. But I think he is trying to kill us. He really only works with Athletes, so he doesn't really understand our level of "doughiness", if you will. I am overweight, and Brian is just out of shape... This guys got his work cut out fort him!

Wish us luck. :)