Bag.

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What used to be fondly referred to as my diaper bag has now become something of a survival kit. I could not function with out it. It is filled to the brim with the tools of Motherhood.

Let’s look back at The Diaper Bag in the early days of it’s existence. Shiny and new it holds all the accoutrements needed for easy breezy mothering. Tiny name brand diapers, expensive diaper creams, an extra onesie, tiny receiving blanket and an adorable nursing cover. Throw in my wallet, keys, a shiny new cell phone (with camera to capture every single adorable newborn expression), sunglasses (because my world is all bright and new), a granola bar and bottle of water for me. This completes the new mom bag, give or take a blanky or two.

Here we are, two years in. What does that stained sack-o-baby supplies hold now? As the name implies, it still holds diapers. But these are no tiny, organic, biodegradable, save the planet one BM at a time diapers. No, these are giant, box store brand poop catchers capable of bringing grown men to their knees once filled. Along side mammoth planet killing diapers is the generic diaper cream, a half eaten apple, Ballerina Barbie, a leaky no-leak sippy cup, a mushed Nutri Grain bar and fruit snacks that have escaped their single serving sized wrapper and attacked my car keys. My cell phone is still there. Less shiny and definitely less new, it still captures adorable moments. These moments mostly involve mud, tuts and random accessories.The sunglasses are still there as well. Those are less for the shiny world surrounding me and more for hiding the dark circles that have set up camp under my eyes. And the snack for me? It has been bit into by the 2 year old, spit out and declared “yucky”. I live on leftovers and discarded goldfish these days.

My diaper bag has changed but so have I. The unsure new mom with the clean smelling bag has morphed into the one handed diaper changing confident mommy I am today. So what if those diapers aren’t what I planned for? My toddler looks just as adorable in them, running around, screaming “NAKED TIME” as she would if they were all fancy schmancy. The contents of The Diaper Bag may not be nearly as nice as they once were but you know what? I wouldn’t change a single thing because the contents of my life are pretty damn awesome.

 

-m-

 

 

The Grass Is Always Greener.

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I try really hard to not make assumptions about people. The gorgeous girl with a supermodel body may not have great self-esteem. The woman with 6 children may have had fertility issues. The well dressed mom at the play date may be broke. Assumptions are usually wrong and can be hurtful.

As humans we always assume that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Problem is, we usually are content to assume and not actually get to know the owners of said green grass. I have discovered that almost 100% of the time, their grass is just as green as mine. They have the same weeds and brown patches. They water theirs trying to make it a little greener, just like the rest of us. Sometimes, their grass is completely brown.

I have been on the receiving end of these assumptions several times. Each time I struggle between correcting the person and just letting it slide. I usually let it slide unless it is super hurtful. I have had people tell me, “Stop trying to have another baby! Why would you want more, one is plenty, trust me!” The clincher is that these people had two or more children in tow. Little did they know how much I yearned and struggled for just one more baby…..

I have friends who have struggled with weight issues. People who did not know them before their weight loss would say things like, “Why do YOU have to work out? I would give anything to look like you.” Little did they know how much these women had given up….

I have discovered that my grass will wilt and die if I focus my time and energy on someone else’s grass. So, instead, I will focus on my own. I will tend to it and make it as green as I need it to be.

 

 

Change.

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It happens every few months here in New England. There is a shift in the air. It starts as a cool breeze or a warm ray of sunshine. Tiny details transform into something completely different. Leaves fade from green to yellow to red then brown. The grass slows its growth, birds head south. And before we are fully aware the season has changed completely. Just as beautiful as the last one but completely different.

Change is good and without it life would become stagnant, stale. Sometimes it happens as naturally as the seasons and other times it takes an outside force to enact it. I have gone through many changes in my years here. From baby to girl to woman. I am barely the same person I was 15 years ago. Many factors have contributed to these changes but none so profound as the past year of my life.

There has never been doubt in my mind that we would go on to have another baby. After Elsa was born we talked and decided that we would love to have our children close together. Two years apart was our ideal. So, a few months after Elsa’s first birthday we started trying. I got pregnant quickly. Three months later I lost the baby. We were devastated but refused to let it slow us down. We kept trying. One year, three miscarriages and no new baby later here we are.

I just read an article recently that talked about some new findings. Researchers have proved that every time a woman becomes pregnant, regardless of the length of pregnancy or outcome, the fetus’ cells become a part of the mother’s body long after she has given birth or miscarried. This means that every baby changes the mother.  She is no longer the same at a cellular level.

These findings gave me comfort. I may never have been able to hold these babies but they will always be with me and I am changed because of all four of them (we had a loss before Elsa). This change is not just cellular. I feel like a different person. I do not take one second with Elsa for granted. I try to laugh as often as possible. I try to soak in every idiosyncrasy of being a 2-year-old. The messy noisy chaos reminds me of how lucky we are to have her.

Like the changing of the leaves or the shift in the air, I cannot pin-point the moment I changed. I don’t know if I am done. All I know is that our dream of having another baby is still the same. And, for now, we are still trying to make that dream a reality. Meanwhile, we have Elsa. This beautiful, smart, funny and completely awesome little girl who changed me more than anything in the world.

Change is good.

Allergenic.

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Today I received a phone call from Elsa’s pediatrician’s office telling me that Elsa has no food allergies. To most folks this would be a insignificant phone call. To us, it was a dream come true. It was the end to over 2 years of worry and wondering.

There had always been certain foods that didn’t seem to agree with Zach. He had a whole list of symptoms that didn’t seem to connect. Almost six years ago, a few months after our wedding, Zach was diagnosed with Shingles. He was in a ton of pain and the doctors had no idea why a seemingly healthy young person would develop this virus. He was given medication and sent home to heal. A few nights later Zach went to bed with a headache. He woke early the next morning, his headache so bad that he could barely speak. I was very concerned and decided to bring him straight to the Emergency Room. By the time we got there he couldn’t answer simple questions and needed assistance to walk. Four, yes, FOUR spinal taps later and he was diagnosed with Viral Meningitis. There was a blur of tests and I.V.s. He was admitted for observation and intravenous medication. The doctor threw around causes like AIDS, HIV and cancer. Tests kept coming back negative (thank goodness). No one had any answers. Zach healed, and we went on with our lives, unsure of why he got sick and if it would happen again.

Months later Zach had a whole bunch of allergy testing done. We discovered that he has several food allergies. Foods that he ate on a regular basis. We started connecting the dots and talking to doctors. Come to find out, every time Zach consumed a food he was allergic to his immune system would attack the food. This could happen several times a day. Eventually his immune system became compromised. This allowed the dormant Chicken Pox virus to wake up and cause Shingles. The Shingles virus traveled the nerves from his spine around his body and then, because his immune system couldn’t fight it, it returned back to his spine and infected his spinal fluid leading to meningitis. My husband had a swollen brain and could have died because of food.

When we decided to have children I did my research. A child born to a parent with food allergies has an increased likelihood of having allergies themselves. 50-75% more likely. (The average child without a family history only has a 3% chance). Exclusive breastfeeding for at least 6 months and no solids before 4-6 months were suggested to assist in the prevention of allergies. I would do anything to make sure our baby never had to deal with what Zach went through.

Here we are, two years after Elsa’s birth, and no food allergies. None. I cried. She won’t have to restrict her diet, she won’t have to fear food. This now re-affirms that everything we have done was right. It makes every sleepless night, up nursing her, worth it. It makes every single case of thrush worth it. It makes the sideways glances and under-the-breath comments about nursing a 2 year old worth it.

We would have captured the moon with our bare hands if it promised she would be healthy.

 

 

Grandparents.

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Today is Grandparents Day and I had no idea. I am awful with these kinds of ‘holidays’. I am no good at buying cards and planning ahead. I always feel awful about it, too. This year is no different. It crept right up on me and jumped out and yelled “SURPRISE!!!” I decided that instead of feeling bad I would take to my blog and honor my grandparents and Elsa’s grandmother (my mom).

I grew up with some of the best grandparents a kid could ask for. As an adult I cherish the memories of childhood adventures with them. Benson’s Animal farm, Mount Washington, Canada family reunions, Maine, trips to Keene (ducky way or rollercoaster way? Oh, lonely tree way it is!!), motorcycle rides with Grampa and picnics under the maple tree with Mimi. My favorite summer afternoons were spent at their house watching daytime soaps with Mimi and welcoming Grampa home from the book press. I can still smell the ink and grease from a long day as a pressman. He would sit and drink his iced tea and we would talk about our day.

Me and Grampa, a few years ago.

I am so very fortunate to have nearly 33 years (and counting!!) with my grandparents. I love them dearly and owe them the world and more.

Mimi. She will do anything to make her grandchildren happy. Anything.

I feel utterly blessed that Elsa has been able to know them. She, too, will have amazing memories of our Mimi and Grampa.

It is pretty awesome to watch my own mom become a grandmother. She just adores her two granddaughters and can tell just by looking at her when she is with them. I spent some time with my mom right after Elsa was born, just the three of us. It was incredible to be with my mom and see her as my daughter’s grandmother. I can not wait for all the adventures they will have together. Elsa adores her and it is not hard to see why. I am sure, one day, Elsa will have children of her own and will look back at her memories of being a little girl with amazing grandparents.

Is that one happy Gramma or what?!?!?!

Thank you to all the grandparents out there. You are the foundation of our families.

 

(Elsa also has some pretty kick ass Grandparents on Zach’s side of the family as well. We love them dearly and Elsa always looks forward to her time with them. We are so happy to have great folks in our lives).