While I Wait For My Hair to Start Falling Out
There are too many hormones swishing around in this body of mine for me to be able to write anything comprehensible. I range from pleasure to paranoia in the space of five minutes. My thoughts are like bubbles that form and burst in rapid succession. What if Chup cheats on me? I love lemon pie! If the big earthquake hits do we have enough water to drink and bathe? Asparagus! It's a weird existence, this postpartum stuff.
For this reason, I'd like to thank my guest posters this week. They have been delightful--Catherine, Stephanie, Azucar I love those women in my life. Chup was supposed to post on Tuesday in response to the many questions we've received about our birth story. Would we do it at home again? Did we prefer the unmedicated? Is it worth talking to the husband about to convince him to give it a try? But Chup wasn't feeling poetry in that moment and hopes to write that post in the near future.
Of course, if you ask me (which many of you did) I would reply (all caps ) YES. OH YES. TO ALL OF IT. But you might not believe me because of the aforementioned hormones. Best leave that post up to the Chupa.
Speaking of giving birth. Remember Ever? I call her the Prize of the County Fair. I also call her my Warm Sugar Cube. And I really like how so many things rhyme with Ever (clever, never, weather/whether) so that all my made up tunes and silly poetry is easily improvised. She's just El Lovely, Captain.
The other day my friend Wendy of Blue Lily fame, showed up in town for a couple hours to take photos of my gal. I lounged on the couch while Wendy swaddled and posed my sleepy daughter. Perhaps it was the best afternoon I have spent since Ever dropped into our lives. I fell in love with her even more, swoon, swoon, swoon.
And oh how I adore that Wendy too. By the time she left, I felt more confident in motherhood. She taught me--among many things--the fine art of swaddling, and I do believe it is an art. My babies break the swaddle I was formerly taught seconds after the wrapping. Turns out, I need to be using stretchy blankets and adding more layers to the baby burrito. Wendy also helped infuse in me the power of making choices in motherhood based on intuition and not fear--this is invaluable.
And so is her photography.
What? Would you like to see my swaddled Ever?
Here you go (you might be tempted to kiss the screen, warning!)
Thanks Wendy, as always.