Imado (what I wanna do)

When I was pregnant, everyone wanted to know if it was a girl or boy, and then the name.

After she was born everyone wanted to know if I made through it without an epidural.

Once she was a few months old everyone wanted to know if she was sleeping through the night.

Now that she's over a year old, the question is "How much longer are you going to breastfeed?"

Do you want the short answer or the long answer?  I usually start with the short answer: I don't know. After an awkward pause I start rambling the long answer. It usually includes something about pumping and my work schedule, something else about sleeping through the night and teething. Sometimes I even go into the WHO recommendations and anthropological evidence that says "extended" breastfeeding is biologically normal. 

I'm not sure if it's there or if it is my own insecurities, but every time someone asks, I feel like the implied question is "Why haven't you weaned?" I feel defensive and judged. I have to convince them that I have actual reasons to continue breastfeeding and I'm not just lazy or "soft".

Part of it is that I'm not a pull-the-band-aide-off-quickly kind of mom. I don't like drastic changes, I'd rather do things slowly. That being said, the only change that I've made since she turned the magic age of one is that I don't stress about is anymore, or rather, I try not to. Most of my stress surround pumping and supply. I have a hard time keeping up with her when I work long hours, so we're introducing cow and goat's milk since we're quickly running out of frozen milk. I have to put in a lot of effort to not worry so much, and its really helping. I'm able to focus on work more and I don't threaten to throw my pump off the building anymore.

We've had an interesting journey to get here. It's been full of ups and downs, tears and smiles. Lately the smiles have vastly out numbered the tears and we are both happy with how our nursing relationship is. And its just that: OURS.

So whether or not you are judging me for nursing my one year old at the park/restaurant/work, it really doesn't matter.  The answer to the question is "When it seems right for us" and I don't know when that will be because it hasn't happened yet.

Having a milk break during her 1-year-old photo shoot

Babies are people, too.

Many of us are familiar with the all-encompassing urges that our hormones put us through during our reproductive years.  That desire, that urgency to "have a baby".  Come on, you know what I'm talking about.  Grinning stupidly at any baby in your vicinity, glancing fondly at those big beautiful pregnant bellies that just seem to be everywhere during these hormonal times, feeling jealousy when friends or family announce new additions.

I've noticed though, that the urge to have a baby is not always connected to the desire to raise a child.  Sometimes it's just our bodies wanting to do what they're built to do.  Bring new blood to your family, continue the next generation, propagate mankind.  Sometimes we desperately want to get pregnant/have a baby, but aren't really interested in raising any more kids.  That's okay; it's completely normal.

Another observation I've made is that most of the time, parents who do want babies and who do want kids forget that children become adults.  Not logically - logically we all understand that as our bodies and minds age, we become adults and we leave our families of origin and we create a family of our own.  But emotionally, we think only of that baby growing in our womb, of what that newborn will look like, of what color his eyes will be, and maybe about what we'll do for her first birthday party.  At the beginning of childbearing, most people rarely consider further than that, other than to occasionally fantasize about vacations or holidays.  We don't think about what'll happen when our babies turn eighteen or twenty five or forty.

Our babies are real people.  With real, separate, individual personalities.  And if we are fortunate, we will get to raise them and watch them grow.  But we have to realize that some of the choices we made for them when they were small are choices that they will have to live with.  We make choices that affect the rest of their lives, and some choices follow them even past their own lifetimes - the choices we make about our conceptions and pregnancies and babies today can live on for generations and affect our children's children and their kids after that and after that.  It's so important to educate ourselves, and to choose carefully.

Specifically, the biggest decision I feel we made for our E was regarding her biological father; her sperm donor.  The color of his eyes or his hair don't matter to me in the long run - but his openness to a relationship with her meant everything.  We knew from the very earliest stages of preparing for conception that we wanted a donor who was willing to be known to our children, no matter in what capacity.  This was not a decision we took lightly; indeed, we feel like choosing such a donor was the best gift we could give to our daughter, since we couldn't give her both sides of her biology from the two of us.

We felt that this was the only possible decision to make for E.  Yes, we created her life, and yes it was done in an atypical fashion, but it's her life.  I wouldn't want to cut her off at the knees before she's even born - I want her to have every possible option when she's grown.  If she is interested in knowing her donor, then I'll be at her side.  If she doesn't feel the need to find him just yet, I will help her to truly understand what that choice will mean for her but ultimately, I respect whatever decision she makes.

I strive, as E's parent, to consider her as a separate entity from myself or T.  Her feelings are her own, her opinions are her own.  She is an individual and she deserves every ounce of consideration that I can muster.  My biggest hope in this regard is that one day, she will see the lengths we've gone to in order to give her as many choices as we were able to.

I can't wait... or can I?

Yesterday (well, two days ago, since its taken me so long to write this) I was writing in E's journal and was struck by a seemingly innocent idiom that I almost used. I wrote to her about growing up too fast. I remember being told as a child that I was growing up too fast, and I always hated it. I was getting older at exactly the same rate as everyone else, so it really didn't make sense that I was growing up too fast. Now I get it. As a child, or even young adult, everything seemed to be a count down to the next holiday or event. 113 days until Christmas!  Until your birthday! Until the last day of school! As the days get closer, the excitement builds. Months and years just seem too big to worry about, too abstract. I'm not sure when the transition happened, but now days are just too short to count. I count in weeks, or months. Sometimes even years. In 12 years, I will be the parent of a teenager. That's a scary thought... However, nothing seems to show the passage of time like a baby growing into a toddler, into a child, into a... well you get the point. The changes in our daughter over the last 12 months have been monumental.


As I finished writing about time slipping through our fingers, I started to close the journal entry. I told her how great the last year has been and then stopped myself before writing what I have seen written so many times before (and we even wrote on the slideshow!): "I can't wait to see what the next year brings." Yes, I am looking forward to getting to know my daughter as a toddler, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to be done with her babyhood. If I feel like she's growing up "too fast," then I need to stop focusing on what's next and enjoy what is RIGHT NOW!


For E's birthday party we chose a luau theme. In Hawai'i it is customary to throw luau for a child's first birthday, as much for the parent's survival and the kids! I have a co-worker from Hawai'i who said it is the biggest birthday party you every have, and you don't even remember it. We thought this was a great idea, but decided not to embrace the HUGE party idea, it would just be too much work and too overwhelming for a one year old. We stuck to just family and that was quite enough excitement!

Sharing her cupcake!

SPLASH!

A and her mom

What luau is complete without a grass skirt!?

E with her Poppa

Sitting on her new reading chair playing with her favorite toy- the bow!

I have spent a lot of time over the last few days remembering what we were doing exactly a year ago.  It was interesting to be able to put actual times to things.  As time has gone by, my body has forgotten just how miserable I was the last few weeks of being pregnant. It has forgotten how hard labor was.  I find myself thinking about our next child in terms of ME being pregnant, even though that's not the plan.  For some reason, this weekend I had a much easier time remembering what it felt like and why I was glad it is A's turn next. 

It's interesting switching gears to being the non-gestational parent, even in this early planning stage.  There's a certain invisibility that I'm simultaneously sad and excited about.  On one hand, there was a certain level of camaraderie with other pregnant women, and it made small talk a little easier.  But there was a point where I got tired of correcting people when they asked about my husband. And awkward moments that followed. Although with further thought, people will probably be more likely to ask questions when they find out I'm on maternity leave but wasn't pregnant. I guess you never really finish coming out; it's not a singular event.

One Year

I believed that nothing showed the passage of time more acutely than a pregnancy.  Then our daughter was born, and I learned the truth - NOTHING shows the passage of time more acutely than a baby's first year.

It's been said before, and it'll be said again, but I am in a constant state of disbelief that E is a year old, but also that she's ONLY a year old.  I feel like she has been a part of us for as long as I can remember.  And in many ways, she has.

In 2005, I met and fell madly in love with T.
In 2008, we set ourselves a five-year timeframe for having our first child.  A few months later, we got married.
In 2009, we bought our home.  Though we didn't know it at the time, this would be our last year as a childless couple (though our "accident" baby, a colt named Remi, was born this year!).
In 2010, we became a licensed foster home, and over the span of 2 years cared for three children.
In 2011, during our final foster care placement, we decided that having our own children couldn't possibly be as difficult and heartwrenching as having foster children.  We started trying to get T pregnant that summer, and E was conceived in December, days before our foster children went home to their birthmother.
In 2012, our charming daughter was born.  We had a year to spare before our pre-determined five year timeframe elapsed!

Before I even met T, I'd dreamed about having children.  I'd known that I wanted kids since I was a kid, myself.  I wondered who they would be, what they would look like, how many I would have.  I envisioned all the things I would teach them, and wondered what they would teach me.  I daydreamed about taking them on vacations and letting them wake me on Christmas morning.

I didn't always know that my first daughter wouldn't be born of my genes, or of my body.  Once it was obvious this was to be the case, I allowed myself a period of acknowledging a sense of loss, of sadness that I wasn't going to experience pregnancy the way I'd originally wanted.  I had baby fever for years prior to E's conception, so convincing my hormones to wait for my own pregnancy has been a difficult road at times.  However, I wouldn't change anything, even if I could.

I loved every moment (okay, MOST moments) of T's pregnancy.  I experienced it in a secondhand way, a way that I believe has made me more appreciative of my relationship and of our child.  I felt privileged to be able to care for T and ease any amount of her anxiety or discomfort that I could.  I felt intensely protective in a way I had never before - I still feel that way.

And now here we are, a year of E's presence on Earth!  365 rotations.  1 revolution around the sun.  T's pregnancy already feels far away, and our baby is a bonafide kid.

In the last year, I've learned a little something about the depth of love - and how it doesn't have a measurable depth, after all.  I've learned a lot about mothering, but also about being mothered.  I've learned more about my own parents in the last year than ever - my biggest realization is that there was so much about them that I didn't already know.  I wonder how much more they have to teach me.  I wonder how much more I don't know.

And so, here's to you EJ:
You came into this world on your own terms, in your own time.  You blew all our expectations out of the water from the first moment we set eyes on your tiny face.
You have taught us about love and patience.  You've taught us about the magical value of seeing the world through eyes that are experiencing everything for the first time.
You are opinionated, kind, gentle, sweet, sensitive, and hilarious.  You're so clever, it's amazing.
You love food!  Especially risotto with peas. Actually, anything with peas.  You enjoy enchiladas, steak, baked sweet potatoes, blackberries, bananas, blueberries, oranges and lemons, and (admittedly) chocolate ice cream.  You're pretty game to try anything, but if you don't like it you don't hesitate to make that known.
You are a chatty little thing.  Dancing is one of your very favorite activities - I hope it's not terribly embarrassing to you as you get older that neither of your moms can dance at all.  You are a masterful crawler, and you enjoy pulling yourself up to stand and then letting go.  Sometimes, you're a bit of a daredevil, and sometimes you have a flair for the dramatic.
Your once-tiny body used to curl into the crook of my arm, now your lanky limbs spill out of my arms as I carry your sleeping form to bed.
Being your Mama is an incredible honor and I fall in love with you all over again every day.  Watching you grow and learn and change has been so much fun - and I look forward to all the future brings us.
This year has been the most amazing year I've ever lived.

Happy Birthday, wonderful child.




And I want to wish my amazing wife a happy birthing day, as well.  One year ago exactly, she was in labor in our living room.  I had woken my parents in the middle of the night and they'd driven the two hours to us - all of us thinking that the baby would be arriving soon.  Little did we all know that we'd have quite the wait in front of us, and T would have a lot of hard work to get through before E could make her grand entrance at 7:37pm.  You were a warrior; you were nothing short of phenomenal.  I am thankful for you.  Thankful for being able to watch your body do one of the most awesome things a body can do.  Thankful to know this child, who is of your genes, and is of your body.  Without you, there would be no E.  I love you.

Camping!

The first time A and I went camping together was four years ago for wedding. They rented an awesome group site on Mt. Lemmon and a great time was had by all. 

Our first camping trip, June 2009

Every year as it gets to be sweltering in the desert, we long to head up the mountain and camp. But camping alone isn't good enough, we want lots of company.  Every summer, we want to go back to THAT camp ground. They book up early, so you have to plan ahead which we just aren't good at doing.  This year, however, I did it!

This year's camping trip story actually starts a week earlier.  There wasn't anything going on at work, so I took 2 1/2 weeks of vacation (I really should have taken a longer maternity leave...). A few days in we went down to Madera Canyon to find the perfect spot for a 1-year-old photo shoot later in the week. We found a great little amphitheater and bridge and took some test shots of E and headed back home. 

She's so adorable, I can hardly stand it!

On the way back I sat in the back of our SUV with E to keep her entertained, but as we got back to Tucson she fell asleep. We got off the interstate, but were still on a road that had a fairly high speed limit that people usually ignore. All of a sudden, A says something that gets my attention (neither of us remember what) and slams on the breaks. I look up just in time to see the back of a gravel truck (a FULL-size gravel truck, mind you) slam into the front of our Honda. I immediately look to E, she rocks back and forth a little while we get pushed into the median, but stays asleep. 

By the time we realize what has happened, the semi-truck has driven away and we can't see the plates. There is also a cop car stopped in the right hand lane (the reason the truck changed lanes, although he changed one more than was necessary), but the cop drives away, too, evidently unaware of what happened in his blind spot. I look behind us (A can't since we no longer have a side mirror) and see that we are in the middle of a break in traffic, but cars are starting to come around the corner.  She carefully maneuvers down the rocky median and into the right hand lane.  The car still seems to be drivable, but we want to find somewhere to pull over, and there isn't an emergency shoulder here. I'm on the phone with police dispatch when we find somewhere to turn off, as we turn, we see the truck turning the other way and give them as many details as possible, but still can't see the license.

We pull over and do a quick inventory of the damage. The mirror is gone, and the door is scratched and dented, as is the front fender. The drivers side front tire shows a lot of damage from hitting the curb and rocks, but is still holding air. We are deciding what to do next (replace the tire, put on the spare, just go home) when dispatch calls me back.  Evidently they are looking for us instead of the truck, so we just stay put. 

The cop that comes was actually the one who was in the road.  They saw us on the median, but not that the truck hit us. We answer a bunch of questions and dispatch is able to find a company name on the truck, but no one answers the phone.  They give us the address (which turns out to be a residential address) and send us on our not-so-merry-way. 

This is part of the camping trip story because now we are left with one vehicle while the SUV gets repaired.  Our second vehicle is a MazdaSpeed3. This complicates things since we were going to be hard pressed to fit everything (mainly, the dog) in the SUV. Luckily my parents come to the rescue and offer to bring him up and back down for us. 

Its finally time for the big trip!  We only leave an hour later than we planned.  When we get up there, it is spinkling lightly, but the forecast has more rain, so we decided to quickly set up our tent.  It is a tent my aunt gave my parents, and none of us have ever used it and there are no instructions. Eventually we get it upright, although it seems like something is just not quite right.  We start setting up our air mattress and realize it is leaking. We hang a tarp over the leaking area and cross our fingers.

By then more people have arrived, and the camping trip really gets started. We had potluck meals planned for most of the lunches and dinners.  The campsite had a ramada with picnic tables and grills and a big fire pit. There was lots of good food, lazy mornings, nice hikes, and s'mores!  E did fantastic!  She slept better than she does at home and loved being outside all day.  

E tries to help her friend put on his jacket during their time in "Baby Jail"

A was sick of me rolling my eyes for pictures.

E and I roast marshmallows

A and E sleeping

mmmm.... tacos!

We're swinging in my hammock

nap time with her bunny-friend on the slowly deflating air mattress

In the forest with her forest book!

We decided up have baby races.  Parents of the year.

There was a deer with BIG ears!

Our last morning...

The last morning we wake up to lots of puddles.  Its been raining most of the night and we realized just how not-water-tight the tent is. Our bed is wet, our clothes are wet, the dog is wet. It is still drizzling and the rain doesn't show any signs of stopping. We meet with everyone in the ramada and formulate a game plan. My mom comes back up to entertain the babies while we tear down our damp camp.  We pack everything up and head back home to the heat.

Bedtime

As I rocked my daughter back to sleep after the 3rd failed attempt of transferring her to her crib, it struck me just how much she has grown. I was holding her like I used to when she was brand new- her head on my chest, her feet that were tucked up under her. She rarely sleeps this way anymore, only when she's completely exhausted.

10 days old

Ahh... sometimes I miss our little fluffy haired newborn. It is all flying by so quickly, I knew it would.  She has grown into such a fantastic little person! I love how funny she can be, but then quickly switch into her serious, studying mood.  Lately she's been very into copying us.  We've been reading more, so she pulls down books and looks through them.  She only wants to eat the food we're eating.  She's trying SO hard to copy words we're saying, the other day A got her to say paper! I love watching her learn and grow, I just wish time would slow down a little bit, so we can keep up with her.

10 months old

Merry Go Round

Everyone aboard on the merry-go-round
Some things will rise up so that others come down
If the devil don't dance, heaven won't shine
It's a mighty thick haze and it's a pretty thin line
If the faucet is tightened up the love won't flow
If the love isn't bright enough the corn won't grow
If the night isn't dark enough the moon won't glow

Our little family has been waiting on bated breath to hear the Supreme Court's decision on Prop 8 and DOMA.  Of course it seems like they are saving the best for last when issuing rulings. I'm guessing if you're reading our blog, you don't need me to go into the specifics, so I'm not going to, but if you've been living under a rock: here you go.

Its hard to describe the emotions filling me right now, but it is definitely nausea-inducing. Tomorrow when I wake up, their decision may already have been announced. But now that I've had that realization, I will probably be glued to http://www.scotusblog.com from 7am on. It's sort of like Christmas Eve, but you're afraid Santa is only going to bring you coal.

Tomorrow will be a very emotional day.  Hopefully good emotions.

Our Wedding 8.22.08

Someone is tossing petals in a stream
Somewhere someone is standing at the foothills of their dreams
Someone got a paintbrush, is painting over doubts
Someone opened up his eyes and saw the sun coming out
Someone was captive and found the courage to get off
From a boulder in the well, somewhere the rain has stopped
Someone is finding the place where they belong
 
Everyday is summer somewhere in the world
And the summer boys are headed for the falls to kiss the girls
With their impatient hands groping honey breasts and curls
They are filled with desire
And high in the hills there's a baby being born
As forgiveness and peace wash over bruises and sores
People bridging the distance over nettles and thorns

Everyone aboard on the merry-go-round
Some things will rise up so that others come down
If the devil don't dance, heaven won't shine
It's a mighty thick haze and it's a pretty thin line
If the faucet is tightened up the love won't flow
If the love isn't bright enough the corn won't grow
If the night isn't dark enough the moon won't glow


A rich man counting money, a tired man counting sheep
While the safe man counts his blessings, the hungry man has beans
There's a million people praying, raising up their eyes
To what turns out to be the same god, the same sky
We are slightly scared of death, a little bit afraid
So we celebrate everything we can think to celebrate
We shall sing out loud to keep the hounds away

Everyone aboard on the merry-go-round
Some things will rise up so that others come down
If the devil don't dance, heaven won't shine
It's a mighty thick haze and it's a pretty thin line
If the faucet is tightened up the love won't flow
If the love isn't bright enough the corn won't grow
If the night isn't dark enough the moon won't glow
 
Prisons will crumble and governments will fall
It's the order of freedom to be preceded by walls
Cause the truth would be worthless if no one ever lied
So we carry our shame in the interest of pride
And we have all these questions to make us go roam
And we've got all this distance to make us come home
As the sun burns, a child learns, the tide churns, the world turns

Everyone aboard on the merry-go-round
Some things will rise up so that others come down
If the devil don't dance, heaven won't shine
It's a mighty thick haze and it's a pretty thin line
If the faucet is tightened up the love won't flow
If the love isn't bright enough the corn won't grow
If the night isn't dark enough the moon won't glow