Shades of Baby Blue

I'm currently sitting on the couch, in my usual breastfeeding spot. Baby is sleeping blissfully and peacefully. The laundry is swishing around in the machine. The dishes are done. The clean laundry is folded, diapers are stuffed. And I am shades of baby blue.

Maybe it's the clouds that have come to settle so low on the mountains, it looks like there aren't any. Maybe it's the slow drizzle of rain, drumming steadily on the roof and preventing us from having any fun outside. Maybe it's the drop in the temperature, indicating that it's still indeed Spring, and NOT Summer (as we gleefully supposed last week).

Every day I make a TTD List (that would be Things To Do List), and then gloatingly cross each item off as I finish it. I write literally everything that I have to do on that list, short of using the toilet, just to make myself feel like I'm accomplishing something. And to be honest, most days I do get a lot done. I have always made lists, ever since I was a kid. I made my list today, just like every other day. Blogging wasn't on it, but here I am. I feel the need to write.

I feel lost. I feel overwhelmed. I feel like crying. I feel empty. I feel dissatisfied with myself. I feel angry and frustrated. I feel lonely and alone (they are two different things). I can imagine each one of those words in a different shade of blue, even the word 'angry', which is usually in red. Today it's blue. Like me.

On days like this (which, thankfully, aren't that close together), I have an argument in my head going on all day. It's like the "angel on one shoulder, devil on the other" scenario, except my characters aren't an angel and devil; they are like Eeyore and Winnie the Pooh. One's determined to be sad, and the other doggedly continues to suggest things to cheer the other one up. The only problem is, the sad side gets irritated by the constant effort to cheer up and then I have fighting...and yes, folks, it's all happening internally. I know. I need help.

This blog is not for whining, so I'm not going to get into the issues that are dragging me down today. Neither is this blog for gushing about what I love about being a mom, so I'm not going to give you the "cheer up" arguments either. Just suffice it to say that both sides are very real to me, and very valid.

Please don't worry...I'm not about to go jump off a bridge or anything. I love...well...living...too much to leave at this point! Things are (usually) pretty happy and exciting and wonderful. I think everyone is allowed days like this.

Nobody tells you beforehand, when you're still pregnant, that your hormones will still be out of whack for quite a while after you actually give birth. Same goes for your body. Put the two together, and it could be rather disastrous. But factor the love you feel for your child into the equation, and it's a whole other story. It then becomes a story of perseverance; of finding strength you never could have imagined you have inside of you; of trusting that God will protect and care for your little one, even when you may fail; but most of all, it becomes a story of love that literally surpasses all other emotions and feelings. Get pooped on today? It's ok. Feel like you want to drop into bed and not get out until tomorrow or maybe even the next day? That's ok too. Because you know why?

You also get smiled at like you are the best person in the whole world. You get little arms reaching for you to pick him up, and happy gurgles when you do. You get to watch as a new little life begins. You get to be a part of it.

So in spite of being blue, varying shades of baby blue, I have glimpses of rainbow all day long.

A Newer, More Wonderful Me!...or not.

Sooo, baby is now three months old. He is the cutest, most adorable thing ever. (Disclaimer: if you're a mommy reading this, and you think YOUR baby is the cutest, most adorable thing ever, you're allowed to think that. We're all a bit biased. Don't be offended...just smile and nod.)

Are you smiling yet? Nodding?

Having said that, when I look in the mirror (especially after a shower), I'm still not the same person physically as I used to be. Not yet anyway. Now, before you go on a rampage about how it's only been three months, please understand that this is MY blog about MY musings about motherhood, and I'm allowed to make observations about things as I go along! I'm not saying that I want to go jump in the river about it, just that I'm observing. And here are my observations, top-to-bottom:

The Hair:


Pondering...what on earth have I done?!

About two weeks before becoming pregnant, I decided that I was tired of having to deal with my naturally stick-straight, boring hair. So I got a perm. To give myself SOME credit, I wanted natural-looking waves and brought in a picture of some celeb's hair to show the ancient lady at the hair shop what I wanted. She went ahead and gave me a circa-1980s spiral perm (but didn't tell me til she was almost done rolling it) and so, in a time when most pregnant ladies are revelling in having unusually lush, shiny, beautiful hair, I was growing out a frizzy, ugly perm. It's now been mostly grown or cut out, but now the postpartum shedding has begun and it's falling out by the handful. Thanks, ancient hair lady at the shop. My hair sucks. I'm blaming YOU.

My Boobs:
Ahhhh yes, the girls. Unfortunately, they currently belong to a small human who adores sucking on them at 3-hour intervals during the day. They have been stretched, kicked and punched, squeezed and abused more in the last three months than should be allowed. They do NOT look pretty. Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful that we finally got the hang of breastfeeding, but it is definitely taking its toll! About a month ago, I was saying something to someone about how my body was gradually making its way back to somewhat normal, and he said something to the effect of, Well, at least you can enjoy the benefits of having bigger boobs!

How do you explain to a non-baby person that there ARE indeed no benefits to bigger boobs when they are breastfeeding boobs?! They are FUNCTIONAL. Not RECREATIONAL. Nice try.



My Tummy:



Took 10 months to get this way...it's not gonna shrink much in 3!



Whoever said that breastfeeding takes all the weight off pretty quickly was LYING. Yeah, my inside parts shrunk back to their regular sizes, but there is now a layer of pudge that has settled on the outside of my once-beautiful abs. I have been P90x-ing faithfully (until my inlaws arrived last week, at least) and let me tell you, no amount of exercise can shed that pudge. I even had a friend (who is a crazy Ironman athelete) tell me she also has experienced this, and she has been out running again since 8 days post-partum! So that made me feel better. I'm sure the pudge will gradually shrink, or may not go away entirely until I'm done breastfeeding, but...I've come to accept it. I will be ok. I just have to get used to it hanging out over my jeans...*shudder*...and speaking of jeans, we've now come to...

THE BOTTOM HALF:

Ummm, no.

This is where the true magic happened late that January night (or early that January morning...?). Ladies, I'm hoping that one day my hips find where they were positioned before, because currently, they are residing precisely where they went at 5:59am on January 29th. WIDE OPEN. If I got pregnant and had to give birth tomorrow, that baby would just fall right out. And so, in desperation to finally get out of maternity wear, I went and purchased some jeans that would accommodate my new hippy-ness (and I don't mean the flowers and love kind). I'm sad to say, the jeans I purchased are like the modern-day version of the "mom jeans" I so scorned before. They are higher-waisted (to contain the muffin-top), and since there are no higher-waisted flared jeans out there, and there's no way you'll find me in current, trendy "skinny jeans", I went to a "premium boot-cut". Read here: modern-day mom jeans. I'm disgusted. But comfortable. Sort of. See the tummy section above....

My Feet:
We've reached the bottom of the body parts. My feet haven't changed at all (thankfully)...but my choice of footwear has. I was upset that the coming of spring meant I couldn't wear my pull-on boots anymore. Who has time to do up laces when you have a baby screaming in his carseat, waiting to leave? I need some sort of slip-on shoes that are acceptable to wear with jeans...or um, sweatpants...and I REFUSE to wear crocs (sorry to those of you that do...). So, we're still working on this one.

Wow. Who knew I could write so much about personal appearance? It's not vanity...it's observation. It can't be vanity when you're less-than-impressed with yourself. However, as I said at the beginning, it's a work in progress. It's only been three months.

I have to go now. P90x is calling my name..