Today is a really sad day for me. I feel like I’ve lost a friend. I have lost a lot of history. MomCom would not be happening and I wouldn’t have started this business had it not been for my daughter. But before MomCom came Mamaontheverge.com.
MOTV was personal. It was about me, my daughter, my husband, our life. It was where I could work out my mixed feelings about motherhood. It helped me stay sane when I thought I was losing it. But today I found out that all my files are gone. It was my mistake. I didn’t back up my site and I let my hosting account lapse. I didn’t tend to my personal site because I was too busy honing my business site. I have looked for copies of my work but only have one piece that has survived my neglect.
I am learning lessons every day while working on MomCom and this is a big one. If you love something or someone, don’t take it for granted. Don’t neglect the important things in your life. And keep hold of that which is precious to you.
My work is extremely important to me. I believe in what I’m doing. I am inspired by it. But sometimes it’s all consuming and I have to let go and breathe. I have to remember that I will always be a mama first. Mama on the verge will be back, even if it ends up being for my eyes only. Until then, here is the one post I saved.
My Delightful, Darling Delilah:
I left the house this morning and felt a little blue. Leaving you most mornings is a difficult task. The first time I left you to return to work, I cried in the car and didn’t think I would make it through the day. You didn’t quite realize what was happening until a couple of days later when I left and you gave me your old man face, curling your lower lip. Even back then, you were so bright and intelligent, so aware of what was happening around you.
Old man faces are few and far between these days. In a week you will be six months old. You have managed to work your way into the deep crevices of my heart. I cannot and do not want to imagine life without you. You smile and laugh so much, it’s unbelievable. You are what most people would call an easy baby. You are lighthearted and sweet. My favorite thing about you right now are your feet and toes. I never knew how much expression could come from a pair of feet. You point your toes when you’re happy. You curl them when you’re eating and you rub your feet together when you laugh. You have the most beautiful feet I have ever seen. I could kiss them all day if you would let me.
My new life with you in it has not been easy. When you were born, I didn’t quite know what to do with you. You cried and I couldn’t figure out what would make you happy. All I wanted was for you to be happy. This wish for you continues today, but now we know each other better and even though you aren’t happy all the time, I now know this is okay and I just do what I can. It turns out this really works because you are smiling and laughing and pretty content almost all the time.
Most of my life, I have been about me. I don’t think this is a bad thing, it just makes it harder once your life is no longer just your own. Taking care of another little human, no matter how wonderful she is, is the hardest thing a person can do. In the first few weeks, I cried more than you did. Your father was worried about me. People talked a lot about postpartum depression but I knew that I just had the baby blues. One thing your mama knows about is depression.
Intellectually I knew that my inability to nurse you without pain did not mean I was a bad mother. Intellectually I also knew that sleep deprivation was pushing me into fits of anxiety, restlessness, and even the inability to sleep once I did have a few minutes to do so. Like you, the less sleep I got, the harder it was for me to sleep. We rode that ride together.
Emotionally though, Delilah, I thought I was failing. Every time you cried, I thought I hadn’t done something right. Every time you wanted to eat, I cried, not only because it hurt so much, but because I wanted so much to love feeding you but how could I love something that caused me so much pain? The guilt mixed together with my anger and resentment that I had lost who I was, that my relationship with your father had changed, that I couldn’t manage my time, my emotions, my crying, scared me. I was tired and unsure about who I was. Physically and emotionally, I thought I was falling apart.
Jump to six months later and the crying has changed to laughter and giggles. My body, though not perfect, still looks decent in a bikini. And instead of crying every time you want to come to my breast, I feel a sense of loss as you depend less and less upon it. Nursing you over the past six months went from incredibly difficult to the most meaningful and enjoyable part of my day. Now that we are supplementing with formula and you are about to take on solid foods, I often think about how I will miss your excitement and sheer joy and enthusiasm at feeding time.
When I was pregnant, I felt like you were all mine. My own little secret. My own little love. Nursing you did the same thing for me once we got the hang of it. After everyone else, including Daddy, had their time with you, it always came back to just you and me. Now you are weaning yourself. I expect nothing less as you are an independent little wonder. You lead and we follow. As you wean and your interest in my breasts becomes less, I think about what is next for us, just you and me. As you grow and more people come into your life, will there always be some time for just the two of us?
Mostly though Delilah, I simply enjoy you. I enjoy waking up with you in the middle of the night when you’ve gotten your face stuck in the corner of the crib. I enjoy the way you scratch at the chairs in the back room because you like to hear the sound it makes. I delight in your laughter as you swing and talk to no one in particular. I experience your wonder for the outdoors as you feel the wind on your face when we go walking. I love getting soaking wet during bath time because of your enthusiastic splashing. I enjoy the fact that I know that sucking on my nose after Eskimo kisses is your way of telling me you love me. Reaching milestones such as turning over and sitting up have made me incredibly grateful that I have such a healthy, amazing baby but nothing compares to the feeling of your head on my shoulder right before bed as your entire body relaxes and you let me put you into the crib, trusting that I will be there for you when you need me next.
Delilah, at six months, we have grown together. You have taught me more than I could begin to teach you. Even though I want to keep holding you close to me, not letting you go, I also can’t wait for what’s next.
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