No news is good news, as I've been telling myself all week. It's been a long week, checking my iPhone constantly to see if I missed a call or an email pertaining to A. I know he's in good hands, and I know he's not really ours yet, and I know we haven't even met him... but I still worry and want to know he's okay. I mean, yeesh, even on the best of dates I still only leave P with my mom and still call like every hour and he's almost 4!!! Maybe it has something to do with all we went through to bring these children into our lives. We treasure them just so, so much.
Anyway, today at the very end of the workday I finally heard something. The respite care provider is running low on milk. We'd thought we'd be picking him up Monday not Tuesday so we only planned for that length of time. He's eating an ounce an hour and they'll need us to drop off an extra day's worth Monday morning.
My son, my tiny, baby son, is drinking my milk.
And liking it enough to keep eating it.
And he's drinking well.
He's a good eater.
And he's drinking my milk.
O.... M.... G....
I don't think I've ever felt so honored....
Even if I dry up now, even if we lose power and the 950oz or so goes bad, even if the pump spontaneously combusts and we need to pay for it out the nose, it will still all have been worth it, just for this.
In his first week of life, his first and most formative week, he's already been through so much. But he's also been given the milk lovingly and painstakingly pumped and stored by his momma, waiting anxiously for him at home. And I just want to cry and smile and squeal. I wish he could be getting it right from the source right now. I wish I could even have an image of him eating it. Or an image of him at all.
But for now I know that he's alive and well and he's eating well and that's somehow enough. At least for right now...
I've lost my muse. I was trying to be all cool and swank and young and stuff and write up another fanfiction, though this time it was going to be like a 10 chapter fanfiction. I made it to chapter 2. Chapter 3 sucks so far. I'm totally uninterested in writing it now. Dang. Hope my 2-4 fans who put me on "story alert" will understand :)
I bought new dish soap and it just smells yummy. Like, edible yummy. There, I said it, now I can hopefully stop thinking of my yummy, yummy dish soap
Just like with P I'm experiencing weird psuedo-preggie symptoms pre-placement. A touch of nausea here, some pee urgency there, blood sugar going nuts, and oh yeah I need to eat like cooooonstantly. Fun times. Especially the trouble sleeping and vivid dreams part. And the weird cramps, though those have pretty much subsided by now.
So onto the kinda sad part.
Nik's out at D&D right now. That's all cool, not sad at all.
P and I when on a date. That was the sad part.
No, I'm not talking about how rough it can be to play single mommy for a night (though some nights I'm sooooo not in the mood for it), nor am I going to whine (much) about what a total pain in the butt he was for the better part of this afternoon.
No, the sadness comes in the finality of it.
This will, in all likelihood, be our last mommy-Paxton date for a long time. Maybe even forever, though I doubt that. And by the time it will be just us again, all afternoon and into evening, walking and talking and eating a couple times and having ice cream and playing all afternoon and being silly... he'll be older.
And they really do grow up so fast.
I'm trying not to cry as I write this.
I don't think I've truly treasured my alone time with P enough. He's... wonderful. He's bubbly and happy and exuberant. I think I've let too much of our early times together flavor our current time together. I'm too used to sitting back while we're out and letting him play with whoever he wants. I'm so used to saying "in a minute" or "just a sec" or "no, baby, mommy's tired." I'm so used to hearing him beg for me to get on the floor and play, or carry him, or cuddle for hours, or read him just one more book, and I'm so used to saying no or making excuses....
And it sucks. And I suck. And I know I'm a good mom, I know that. The proof is in P, in how happy he is. We're good parents and he's a good kid, and this is a good family and we're happy.
But tonight, holding his hand and looking eye in eye and telling silly stories and sharing fajitas and ice cream and laughing and playing and hugging....
I'm going to miss this.
I'm going to miss him.
I'm going to miss my only and my oldest and my sweet little center-of-attention boy.
I'm so, so, so excited for him and us that A will be joining our family, and I'm happy about this, I truly am.
But I just love P so damn much and it hurts to think that this might be the last time I walk hand in hand down a city street, just P and me, making up stories together and delighting in the fact that we're going to get ice cream, ice cream, and OMG there's going to be candy in it!
Okay, now I am crying.
I'm really glad Nik isn't here to see me blubber on like this!
Back to rationality.
Today I started A's baby calendar (just purchased today at a consignment sale along with several larger onesies for a big baby). I also finished our yearlong photo album for 2009, now stocked, dated and labeled through September. And then I sat at the pump and the computer for awhile. So now both my back and my hand hurts. And a li'l bit of arm. I'm just not used to writing things!
Time to go look at happy stuff until I stop crying....
Captain Ben's Birthday
9 months ago