Yes, Still

While I was nursing Rowan last week, someone asked me when I was going to be finished. I had been dreading Rowan's first birthday because I knew that I'd start facing questions, some merely curious, some almost disapproving. Questions that could cause me to second guess my decision to continue with "extended" breastfeeding.

Admittedly, I used to think it was a little strange to nurse a toddler. My experience with nursing babies has grown with each of my three children. With little support, little knowledge, and a baby with latching troubles, I only nursed Pacey for 2 weeks. After returning to work, having limited time to pump, and developing mastitis, I felt satisfied with making it to 6 months with Gage. My goal with Rowan was a year. And she and I have had our fair share of issues, but we have gotten through them.

I quickly learned that with a high-needs baby like Rowan, I could throw feeding schedules, sleeping schedules, and anything related to structure out the window. This pushed me to my limit. I like structure. Schedules? Yes, please! So not being able to count on predictable feeding schedules was a challenge. I am typically a 'by the book' person, so the fact that she wasn't waiting 2-3 hours between her feedings caused me to feel like I was failing. Then I found Dr. Sears. When I read things from him, I realized I was still a 'by the book' person. Just a different book! He encouraged holding babies as much as they wanted, wearing them frequently. Hubby used to ask, playfully, if I ever put her down. Both of these I already did, but a small voice inside questioned whether it was okay. Dr. Sears confirmed what my instincts were telling me. It was okay, and she needed it.

I remember the day when my struggle with breastfeeding ended. Rowan was crying. An inconsolable cry. I bounced her. I rocked her. I swaddled her. Nothing worked. I looked at my feeding app. She had recently eaten, so I figured there was no way she was hungry. But after nothing else I did worked, I grabbed the Boppy and decided to nurse her. She fumbled for a minute, still overwrought that it had taken her mama so long to figure out what she wanted, but she latched and immediately calmed. Suckling vigorously for a bit and then falling into a milk drunk sleep. I relaxed and realized that nursing didn't necessarily have to do with hunger; nursing provided her with comfort. She wouldn't nap anywhere else during the day, and my new motto quickly became, "When in doubt, whip it out." I deleted my feeding app and instead adopted the practice of cue feeding. She was smart and could tell me when she needed me. And if it meant that I spent the better part of the day on the couch, so be it. And now, a year later, I don't regret those quiet, nursing naps. There was nothing else I'd rather have been doing.

Today, I tried to take a teething, clingy, and cranky baby on a run. We got back home just as she was reaching her threshold. We settled into the rocking chair, and she quickly nursed to sleep. I listened to her contented swallows and studied her sweet face. Her hand instinctively reached up and found my face and lingered there until she found deep sleep. A year may have passed, but my little high-needs baby still needs this. As I type, she is nursing and sleeping. She woke up after only thirty minutes, still half asleep, and I knew she wasn't ready to wake up yet. Are there things I could be doing right now? Definitely. My hair is still wet from my shower. The house is still in disarray from our kitchen remodel. Does any of that matter right now? Not at all. This baby girl will only be a baby for a brief moment in time. She will eventually not need or want to nurse so much, and when that happens, we will fondly say goodbye to that part of our journey. Until then, I'm trusting that I'm providing her with nourishment to grow... physically and emotionally.

Screaming and Speeding

... not always at the same time, but today? Yes!

Rowan has never been a fan of the car, which is why we haven't ventured any further than Chesapeake with her. Most extended car rides result in at least 10-15 minutes of screaming, and if an outing has more than two ins and outs of the car, she goes into total meltdown mode. So after another screaming car ride yesterday, I told Hubby that I was going to turn her seat around. She's one, she's 20 pounds, and I know "they" recommend that babies now ride rear facing for at least two years, but I have to try something to make our daily trips to the boys' school bearable. The fact that she cried for just about the whole 30 minute ride this morning sealed the deal. I turned her seat around during her nap. And during our afternoon car ride, she was so much more pleasant.

At first. Then not so much.

Don't worry-- I took both of these pictures at stoplights. And since today was a trying day (I think she is teething), I even joined in on the meltdown. I definitely didn't remember my breathing meditation today. I think I'll print it out and post it in my car as a reminder.

The other screaming and speeding incident was during my morning run. Look at this time!

The trails and hills at the park during my long runs must be doing their jobs if I can easily pound out a mile in 9:30 while pushing the jogger in the wind and not feel like I am going to die! It helped that Rowan decided to cry for the entire second mile-- there is nothing like a little vocal encouragement from my running partner to kick my butt and keep me moving!

We stopped at the park mid-run and played. While I watched her wander around and explore, I felt so grateful, so present with the gifts of the day. I was enjoying my perfect girl, during beautiful weather, in the middle of a fabulous run. What is better than that?

One Year

Dear Brown Baby,
Today you turn one, and I find myself at a loss for how this time has slipped away so quickly. It doesn't seem so long ago that we found out we were having a baby and now I look down, and you are running all over the house.
There was a time when I fully believed that I was finished having babies. I couldn't see going back to this place, this world of little sleep and constant need. But one day that changed, and I knew you were waiting to become a part of this family.

You are a spirited girl. You've taught me to be patient, to be flexible, to be responsive. I've become a better mom to all of my kids because of the presence you've encouraged me to maintain.

I've learned to slow down. I now know just how fleeting babyhood is. So I linger. I sometimes hold you while you nap, ignoring the dishes in the sink and the laundry piles, knowing all too well that soon, too soon, these quiet moments will only be a painful longing, a sweet memory.

You've united our blended family- you are the common ground, the link we all share. We find joy in you and your shenanigans; we exchange smiles, we share laughter. We have come to know a shared love that is often a challenge to achieve when you come from varied pasts. That may sound like a hefty weight for someone so small, but it requires no work on your part. It is part of the blessing of having you in our lives.

I often marvel at this chance, this privilege to be your mama. I look at you, see your round face, your sweet lips, your happy eyes, and I thank God for this second chance. I thank God that he brought you to us, that he knew that I wasn't finished just yet.

As we close this chapter of your life, as you say goodbye to babyhood, and you leap into toddlerhood, I am ambivalent. I miss the curled up, cuddly baby you once were, but I'm so in love with the floppy, independent toddler you are becoming.

Right now, you have given me a gift, a sweet glimpse at your younger days- you have nestled in for an unscheduled nursing nap. I sit here on the couch and take you in. Your even breaths, the weight of your head on my arm. There is no place I'd rather be, nothing I'd rather be doing than holding you right now, being your safe place to sleep.

Happy birthday, my sweet girl! I look forward to all of our adventures.

Matters of Faith

This past Sunday was Rowan's baptism. It was a wonderful day, and it signified a big change for me. I was raised a Baptist, and I even had to attend a Pentecostal church with my grandmother when I stayed with her during the summer.  (Note the word had there...)

The second dunk

Truth be told, I was never quite comfortable in the Baptist church; there was always something that didn't fit with me. I took a long haitus from organized religion after I divorced, and I even explored the Buddhist faith. I had such a desperate need to change absolutely everything about myself and find an inner peace that I couldn't find at our Baptist church.

Sometimes I wonder if all my exploring makes me look indecisive and fickle, but when I am honest with myself, I know I have learned so much through my searching.  I know for sure that the Baptist and definitely the Pentecostal churches are not for me.  I also know that I cannot be a Buddhist, either.  But what has come from all of this is a sprinkling of knowledge from each. I definitely wouldn't really understand my Momfulness practice without the time I spent learning about Buddhism.  And my experiences in the Baptist and even limited experiences with the Pentecostal church has allowed me to make a very informed decision that I know without a doubt is the right one for me.

For the last few years, we have been going to Mass at Husband's church sporadically, but recently we have been making a sincere effort to attend more regularly. We have become members of the parish, and I have decided to reconcile with the Catholic Church, which means that I am attending weekly classes, so that I can take the sacraments of the Eucharist and Confirmation.  Going to classes, reading the catechism, and especially going through the process of having Rowan baptized has confirmed for me that I am in the right place.  The rituals, the kinesthetic and earthy feel of the Mass and the deep-rooted, historic tradition of the faith resonates with me.

Lexus left with her cousin before this picture... 

Knowing that we will be bringing Rowan (and hopefully the boys) up in this faith and parish brings with it a sense of peace for me. I feel like it grounds us as a family and provides a common thread for us, and with blended families, that common thread is sometimes hard to find.

On the Mend

The last several days have been challenging ones at the Rock House. Little brown baby came down with a nasty virus that included high fevers, a terrible cough, congestion, and finally an ear infection. For four nights, we were up every hour, and throughout the day, she was a sad, restless baby in need of constant snuggles and carries. Everyone is exhausted! We finally have antibiotics, and she slept much better last night.

Poor sick girl

And now, on my third day off of work, I'm sitting in the dark, in a rocking chair. My arm is asleep from her heavy, finally restful, body. We debated about whether she was ready to return to the babysitter today, and I almost got ready for work this morning. But as I listen to her even breathing and see her sweet, somewhat snotty face on my chest, and I know there is no place that I'd rather be.

The past several days have been stressful. I often returned to a breathing meditation from my Momfulness book:

This helped me to remember that although these moments have been challenging, they are still wonderful moments. In the midst of very little sleep and being thoroughly exhausted, in the midst of a sad, sick baby, I have reason to smile.

Finally on the mend

Cute Baby Chronicles

I thought this would be a cute way to keep track of cute things Rowan does. You know, because she's cute and such. So I'll call it the Cute Baby Chronicles.

The Newest Rock House Member

I've been meaning to get to this post for oh let's see... 9 weeks?  It's amazing how time flies when you are not sleeping, have a baby attached to your boob, and love every second of it!

Here's Rowan Ella-Grey!  Aka Rowboat.  Aka Babas.  Aka the newest love of my life.

To say that it's been an adjustment going from two relatively low-maintenance boys (forget about the constant refereeing for a minute) to a completely helpless newborn is a slight understatement.  It's been more like culture shock-- an expected culture shock, but still.  Still.  Oh, how I'd grown to love my sleep in the years since the boys were babies.  Those precious 9 hours a night of uninterrupted sleep.  Now?  I'm glad for 3 at a time.  In fact, I celebrate it.

Big changes have been going on here at the Rock House.  Some we knew to expect.  Some we have had to adjust to as they come along.  But what we know for sure is that we wouldn't change a thing.  This little brown baby of ours has brought so much love and so much joy to the Rock House!  Okay, and maybe a little screaming, too.  She has earned the reputation of being a baby diva after all.

I'm going to be more faithful to my blog (yes, I know you've heard that before, but I mean it this time!) and continue to chronical our life at the Rock House.  Because when you have a 17, 9, and 7 year old and 9 week old, there will always be something to write about!