KP

I used to attend a bible camp during the summers we were here in the states.  I would sometimes go with a group of youth from our church, but usually I was on my own.

One particular summer, I was the lone stranger in a room full of girls from another church.  They were the kind of catty friends that only got along because they didn't.  Thankfully for me, they only fought with one another, and didn't choose to include me in their fights.  I spent a lot of the week listening as each girl complained about the others, or mediating their fights.  

At the end of the week we had an opportunity to share our highs and lows.  When my turn came around they all looked at me very surprised when I answered that my high of the entire week of camp had been the night our cabin had kitchen patrol.  I explained to them that it was the only night everyone had gotten along.  I told them it was the only time I had heard them encourage one another.  As an added bonus we had completed our KP duties in record time.  I think we even exchanged high fives as a group.  They laughed together as I shared my insights about that night.  They also agreed that it had been a fun night and had enjoyed working together.

If you were to ask me what my favorite chore is, hands down I would tell you it is washing the dishes.  As a camper, that week especially, it helped us bond and work together amidst a great deal of dysfunction.  When I was a counselor, I enjoyed the opportunity to talk with my campers, sing songs and reflect on our day's activities.  My dishwashing skills were recognized and appreciated on my first camping trip with Nick's family.  I have even used dishwashing as an excuse to get out of a few undesired activities, namely charades with the in laws.

Tonight, I got to add another reason to my list of why I love dishwashing.  With Nick back at work, he has taken over the duty of putting Briony to bed at night.  Our daughter loves her bedtime routine.  I may seem crazy to speculate that a nine week old knows when it is time for bed at night, but she does.  As Nick changed her into her pajamas she started to coo at him.  It is one of the sweetest, most delightful sounds I have ever heard.  My heart absolutely melted.  Tonight, I would have washed all the dishes in the house if it had meant I could prolong those precious moments between dad and daughter.

Parenting Lessons are Life Lessons

I just need to start by saying that this weekend was one of the best I've had in a long time.  I got to re-connect with co-workers and friends alike.  Sometimes the whole "new parent" thing can be a bit isolating especially when you're the one trail blazing the path in your friend and family circles.  However, this weekend we were graciously welcomed at several gatherings.  I must admit that when our friends, concerned about helping Briony get a little rest, turned down the music at a barbecue I realized how different our life has become.  We are so blessed to have people in our lives that accept us for where we are in life even if they haven't quite gotten to this stage yet.

In fact, I had a friend ask recently if I felt like I've done it all.  She was referring to the fact that in the past three years I have gotten married, switched jobs, bought a house, gotten a dog, been pregnant and now delivered my first baby.  I chuckled and laughed.  I certainly have experienced many milestones, but now I am finding that there is a whole new world of milestones that we have embarked upon in this new phase of our life.  

Being a parent hasn't really closed doors; it has opened a few as well.  Most notably, and not unlike most changes in life, the past few months have allowed ample opportunity for personal growth and reflection. I started this blog as a means to reflect on my life in the "now," hence the title.  I am an impatient one, and always have been. I spend a lot of time looking forward to the next thing and sometimes don't enjoy the present for what it is.  

Pregnancy is a big test of patience, but one of the things I realized is that to be patient you have to appreciate the present.  I heeded the advice when I was pregnant to really enjoy the last few months of just Nick and I.  We did, and I don't regret it.  We enjoyed more date nights than our budget probably allowed, and even spent a weekend up North hiking on one of the last nice weekends of the fall.  Briony's entrance into our lives has definitely changed the freedom we had before to create quality time with one another.  However, the fact that we were so purposeful about our time before has helped us understand the importance of creating time together now.  Of course it is always easier said than done, but we're working on it.

While pregnancy was full of anticipation, which is usually the culprit that leads to my impatience, so is parenthood...at least new parenthood (since I do realize my experience is still quite limited).  You can call it baby blues, post-partum depression, sleep deprivation or whatever you want, but the first few weeks were tough.  As the endorphins began to wear off after delivery, I grew impatient for the next step.  I was eager to see her grow.  I wanted to know what her personality was going to be.  I wanted to lock eyes with her and see her grin.  I started to sense myself getting impatient again as I anticipated what the next steps in Briony's development would be.

When Briony was about a month old, my mom commented on how she remembers that anticipation.  She relayed to me how eager she was for those next steps to come, too.  However, now that she has been through it she knows that those steps will come and that you don't get to go back to how they are right now.   It was a fleeting statement, one that we didn't dwell on for very long, but it has stuck with me.  With those words she reminded me that life keeps going.  There is no rewind button.  She reminded me that when I look back on this time I will realize that impatience wasn't necessary because the next phase will come.

I now find that I am letting myself slow down.  I am trying not to imagine all that Briony will be because in time that will all happen, I am trying to relish in what she is now.  She is an extremely content little lady.  In fact, we've been downright spoiled.  She eats well, and seems to grow in front of our eyes.  She stares at her dad like he is the only person in the world.  She lets us know when she is tired and falls asleep like a champ.  She is starting to coo and her grin lights up the room.  Life is simple right now, and I need to relish that.  It won't be long before I am chasing her around, wondering where my innocent baby disappeared to.

The more I've pondered and practiced my more patient outlook, the more I wish I'd realized this sooner.  As complicated as life seems sometimes, it only gets more so.  When I was in sixth grade I couldn't wait to get to middle school because then I would be allowed to chew gum.  Once in middle school, I found out that chewing gum was quite minute in the grand scheme of adjusting to the independence that you develop as a teen.  When I graduated from high school, I couldn't wait to head to college only to be bombarded with syllabi.  Now, I long for the time when the act of procrastination affected no one but myself.

Don't get me wrong, I still have multiple times a day when I anticipate the future thinking it will be simpler.  For example, I frequently find myself saying, "If I could just get a full night's sleep, then I would..."  However, changing my mindset and increasing my awareness of my impatience has really improved my frame of mind.  I guess we'll see how long it takes before life teaches me my next lesson in patience.

Recovery

When we returned to Madagascar in 2003 my parents enrolled me in a Norwegian school as it was located on the compound we would be living in.  In preparation for starting a school taught in an entirely different language, my parents hired a tutor for my brother, Nathan, and I.  They hoped that having some exposure to the language would make the transition a little easier.

One of the exercises included in those lessons were flashcards.  On these flashcards were pictures of toilets, chairs, animals and people.  However, the one that I remember most distinctly was one of a man sitting on the floor with a broken chair to his side and an exclamation point above his head.  This was my first exposure to the out cry, "Uff da."  I would argue that this particular flashcard prepared me for my lessons at the Norwegian school about as much as the word "woof" prepares you to communicate with dogs.  However, I imagine that if I were to teach someone the word "uff da" today, I would share a highlights video of last week.

For a simple rundown of last week's major milestones...

Friday Nick, Briony and I attended our first wedding as a party of three.

Saturday, we hosted my dad's side of the family at our house for a meet Briony party.

Sunday-Wednesday we went on our first family trip to Northern Minnesota.

Thursday was the much anticipated Match day (more on that later).  

Friday I spent 8 hours away from my newborn attending an advanced life support recertification class.

Needless to say, I woke up Saturday morning in desperate need of harnessing my inner hermit.  Rather than do the piles of chores and odds and ends that have piled up this week, I spent the day cuddling and cozying with my beautiful baby girl.  It was wonderful.  As a side note, it is amazing to me how much she has changed in five weeks, and I can hardly wait for the changes to come in the next five weeks.

Thursday did me in.  It was a wonderful day, filled with many happy and excited emotions, but it was the culmination of several long months of waiting.  I think one of Nick's cousins put it best, when he said that we have had three christmases this year.  Our first was the actual holiday, second was Briony's birthday and third was Match Day.

Just a brief explanation of Match Day for those that have no clue what I am talking about.  Back in October, Nick began applying for residency programs.  Residency is the next phase of training to become a physician.  He spent December-January setting up and attending interviews for these programs.  He had ten total interviews ranging in location from the here in the Twin Cities to Boston, Arizona, Illinois, Wisconsin and Colorado.  He submitted a rank list in February.  This list rated prioritized his top residency choices.  The residency programs also created a similar list with their residency candidates.  The list was compiled in some master database, and he was "matched" to a single residency program to which he is legally bound to attend.  Every medical student in the country goes through this same process and everyone finds out on the same day, at the same time.

Needless to say, it wasn't much of a surprise, when Nick opened his letter at 11:03 am, that I cried happy tears.  Nick has had his heart set on being at Hennepin County since he started medical school.  I haven't dared believe it would happen because I feared the disappointment if he didn't.  It was such a relief to find out he matched exactly where we wanted.

I have been impressed with Nick throughout this entire process.  I remember when he started medical school and people told me to say goodbye to ever seeing him again.  "Oh, he is going to be busy and it is so rigorous he won't ever be around" is what I was told.  Nick used to get upset when he heard this.  He promised me from the beginning that no matter what our relationship would always be his number one priority; that he would find balance in this process.  He didn't let me down.  While there have been times when he has been consumed by studying, or clinicals have kept him at the hospital for unfathomably long hours, I have never felt cast aside.  Our marriage is thriving and our relationship is stronger than ever.  We've even thrown ourselves a few curve balls with the purchase of a house and the addition of a daughter to our family.

Now, I find us transitioning away from the state of ambiguity we have grown accustomed to over the past few months.  We no longer have a plan A, B and C based on whichever program he is assigned.  Instead, we can begin to focus on a specific program and place.  The next three years will be intense.  We will have to adjust to added stressors as Nick begins to transition from the relatively sheltered role of a medical student to the much more intense responsibilities of a resident.  However, we have time to recover.       

My Top 5

I've been trying out this mom-thing for three weeks now, and everyone keeps asking how it is going.  I guess most frequently it is phrased, "And don't you just love it?"  The quick and simple answer is ABSOLUTELY.  Here's a list of my top five favorite things and lessons I've learned so far about being Briony's mom.

1.  Briony's squeals and squeaks warm my heart.  I had always been told that newborns are noisy, and I guess I just assumed it was their cry that was loud.  I wasn't totally wrong, as Briony's cry certainly gets stronger every day and recently started to be accompanied by full fledged tears.  However, she makes so many other sounds, too.  Sometimes she lets out high pitched squeals, and other sounds are more of the grunt and snort variety.  She even has one that sounds a little like Donald Duck.  Mostly she makes noise while she is sleeping, but occasionally she'll do it while she is awake and then I can really imagine she is trying to tell me something.  

2.  Story time started when Briony was in utero, but I always felt a little funny reading out loud to an empty room and my bump.  Now, we read to her as part of our bedtime routine.  The first few weeks it still felt a little silly because she was usually sleeping, but now she has been a little more alert.  It is pretty awesome to look down and see her beautiful blue eyes watching me and listening carefully.  I never realized before how intently a newborn listens to everything around them.  I can hardly wait until she starts interacting a little more and we can look at pictures and laugh at the story lines together.

3.  The most valuable lesson so far has been learning to embrace and conform to Briony's schedule.  At first, all I wanted to do was sit and stare at her and hold her.  Then I wanted her to be more awake and start doing things.  I found that I would get impatient when she didn't eat at the times I thought she should or she slept longer/shorter than I had anticipated.  I found it hard to get anything done because I was waiting for her next move.  Now, I am a lot better at working within Briony's schedule and not my own.  I seize moments when she's asleep, and drop everything when it is time to eat.  I have always been a firm believer that our bodies tell us what we need and when.  However, the first week or two I wanted a routine so badly and I got frustrated when there wasn't one.  I am realizing, in hindsight, my focus was wrong.  I tried to work Briony into my routine and not vice versa.  Once I started paying better attention to her body's routine I found that everything went a little more smoothly, and there is a little more normalcy in our day.  Changing my viewpoint a little and working my to do list around Briony's actually means I get more done, and we're all a little happier.

4.  I have a mixed relationship with middle of the night feedings, but ultimately I secretly enjoy them.  I am admittedly a little slow to get out of bed at 4 am when Briony starts to cry.  However, after taking the short 20 step walk to her room and cozying up in the chair in her nursery all sleep deprivation is forgotten.  My little newborn is starting to turn into a chunk.  It is incredibly satisfying (and admittedly cheesy) to know that I am able to nourish her and that she is thriving.  Her cute round belly, plump thighs and never ending pile of diapers are all evidence of a healthy, thriving baby and it totally makes night feedings worth it.  It also helps that after a full belly, she falls right back to sleep and so do I!

5.  I am 100% head over heels in love with her smile that is to come.  In my first job as a nurse, I had the occasional opportunity to work post-partum.  During that time I was surprised to find out that while babies may form a smile as newborns, it is usually associated with gas and other bodily functions and not actually the emotion of being happy.  Like everything else, babies have to learn that.  As a parent it is hard not to get excited when I see that cute little smile spread across her face, but when it is inevitably followed by flatus I know it isn't the real thing yet.  Let me tell you though, when she starts smiling for real, it will be the best smile I've ever seen in my life!  I am especially excited because I am pretty sure she is going to have her dad's adorable crooked little half smile that I love.  After all, isn't two of a good thing better than one?! 

6.  I had to throw in one more, consider it a bonus.  Briony loves bath time and so do I.  It is too bad that newborns only need to be bathed 1 or 2 times a week.  It is so fun to put her in that water and watch her uncurl.  Her whole body relaxes in the tub, her eyes get wide and I think she thinks she's back in my womb.  I also love the smell of baby soap and shampoo... 

There are of course many other things that I love about being my daughter's mom, and like Briony I am learning new things daily.  I still look at her in wonderment when I realize she is half me and half Nick.  I love that at the end of the day she is 100% ours and no one knows her better than Nick and I.  As scary as the responsibility is to be a parent, I still wouldn't trade it for anything!  

My New Full Time Job

As I sit here and stare into the innocent and sleeping face of my beautiful baby girl, I can't help but marvel at how amazing it is to be so in love with something that takes so much work.

In many ways the last two weeks and two days have been much easier than I imagined, and in other ways much harder.  Last night, two minutes after I put Briony in her crib she started to cry.  I had just crawled into bed, a place I had been longing to be for several hours, and I started to cry too.  I can honestly say they were the first tears I've had since Briony was born.  Nick, a little stunned at having both of his girls in tears, patiently got out of bed, calmed down our daughter and then checked in on me.

All I could do was mutter, "I feel trapped."

Parenting a newborn isn't that difficult.  Partially, of course because our daughter is perfect.  :o)>  Briony's needs are pretty basic at this point and the only time she cries is when she is hungry.  She loves to be held, and we love holding her.  She mostly sleeps and eats.  We have been sticking to a routine when we put her to bed.  While I know that babies don't really catch on to any sort of routine before four to six weeks, I do think she is beginning to understand the differences between night and day.  The only times she fusses at night are when she is hungry, and during the day she has been getting more and more alert.

Breastfeeding on the other hand has been much harder than I imagined it would be.  I feel strongly about our decision to breastfeed and am convinced that we will make it work.  The mechanics of it have been easy.  Fortunately, Briony latched on immediately and really has been a trooper with the process all the way through.  I am not sure how much more difficult this would be if my milk supply was low, or she was a poor sucker.  It's the psychology of breastfeeding that has been difficult.

I was ill prepared for how all consuming it is to breastfeed.  There isn't a single thing on my to do list that I can accomplish without wondering how I can work it in around feedings.  Briony has hungry days and not so hungry days.  I haven't found a lot of success in setting a timer and feeding her religiously at three hour intervals, because sometimes she has no interest and other times she is hungry long before those three hours are up.  I obviously can't expect her to have any patience as she is only two weeks old and only thinks about three things eating, sleeping and pooping/peeing.  Therefore, I am constantly on-call and have to be ready to drop whatever I am doing at a moment's notice.  I truly wasn't prepared for what a mental sport and full time job breastfeeding can be.

The last month of pregnancy I was so eager to give birth to Briony and start sharing the responsibilities of raising her.  I was ready to get back a little of my independence and identity as something other than her incubator.  However, with breastfeeding came a new form of attachment.  In all honesty, the umbilical cord is a much more self-sufficient means of feeding.

My tear fest didn't last too long last night, and I ended it by reminding Nick, through the sniffles, that I love him and that I love our daughter.  I take incredible pride in knowing that my body is nourishing that of my little girl.  It is incredible to me that even though I am no longer her human incubator, I still have a significant role in her continued growth and development.  Her emerging chubby thighs and the realization that she is officially outgrowing her newborn clothes is definite reinforcement that I am doing what I need to do.

I am so grateful that I have an incredibly supportive husband who is understanding of the fact that I can't get everything done on my own.  He jumps up to help with anything at a moment's notice.  I am blessed to have a family that supports us every step of the way.  Briony is growing and changing daily, which certainly encourages me to relish the newborn phase as it is disappearing quickly.  She knows the sound of her dad's voice and listens carefully when he is talking.  She has started to make more eye contact and definitely recognizes when she's in the arms of her milk machine.  Today, she and I practiced recognizing our hands and sticking out our tongues...so much fun!

I think the most important thing for me to remember is that my priorities have changed.  My house may get a little more dusty, Nick may have to be on his own in the kitchen for a while and the laundry piles may get a little bigger before I find time to wash them, but for the time being that's okay.  I have a more important job to do, and like most changes in life there is a learning curve.  I will figure out how to balance everything in time, at the very least I will figure out how to delegate better.  

Temper Tantrum

Today I had a temper tantrum.  I am 27 years old now and am learning that these aren't really an acceptable display of emotion anymore, so I kept it silent.  I held in the complaining and whining.  The angry words and tears were heard only in the deep recesses of my cerebrum.  I only imagined slamming all the doors as I walked through them, rather than actually doing it.  I kept the fist pounding and floor kicking within the bounds of clenched fists inside my mittens and a fast paced power walk as we went around the lake.

It was a weak point.  I made up my mind several months ago that I could either complain about all the emotions and experiences of pregnancy or I could just be excited and show people the pregnancy glow they want to see.  It has been a pretty easy resolution to make as I haven't really had a whole lot to complain about.  This baby has treated me well, but sometimes it's all I can do to not just yell and scream and wish that it was over.

I told Nick today that I am on a roller coaster of emotions, and vacillate quickly between optimism and pessimism.  One minute I am convinced that this baby will never arrive, and I will become the first documented case of a woman being pregnant forever.  Then I come around and remind myself that eventually the baby, my body or medicine will prevail and this baby will erupt into our lives and change it forever.  I remind myself that overall I am really still doing very well.  I am not bed ridden.  I've been able to maintain my current work schedule without too much difficulty.  I can still exercise and enjoy time with my husband without the cries of a newborn's needs in the background.  I then resolve myself to just sitting tight and holding out.  Patience is a virtue, and really I want all to go as naturally as possible.  Eventually, the ride starts all over again.

Usually, if there is something that I want really badly, but can't have I just try not to think about it.  I distract myself with something else for the time being.  However, it is hard not to perseverate on the baby these days.  Our house is full of baby gear ready to be used.  I can't bend, sit, stand or eat without being reminded that I am a living cocoon.  Nearly every task that I perform reminds me that I am not housing just myself but another person as well.  Along with this, everyone feels entitled to tell me how I must be feeling or what I can or can not do.  My ever growing abdomen is impossible for anyone to ignore.  I am constantly reminded of baby's impending birthday.  People look at me and immediately the conversation that ensues goes something like this:

"Ohhh, you're pregnant!  That is so exciting!  When is the baby due?"
"Well, any day now.  I am due the 18th of this month."
"Oh, wow.  Well, that could be anytime.  I bet you are so excited.  It is going to be __________."
"Yep, we are very excited and eager to meet this little one."
"Oh, I bet you are.  Having children is _______________."
"Well, we're looking forward to it and I guess we'll find out soon."

I then usually try to duck out of the conversation shortly thereafter.  Don't get me wrong, I am excited about this child and I don't mind discussing how momentous the event is.  I am just at the point where thinking about it is old news and I am ready to experience it.  I've been told many times how great/challenging/amazing/exciting it is.  I am ready to know this first hand.  I understand the need to be patient because I know that I will find out soon enough, as there literally is no room left for this little on in my body anymore.  Coupling my own impatience, however, with the relative impatience of everyone else makes maintaining a positive attitude quite difficult sometimes.

I feel helpless.  I know that many people, including Nick and I, are anxious to meet this growing person that we've been talking about for seven months now and I've been carrying for ten, but I can't make anything happen any faster than it already is.  Nature has to take its course.  Sure there are old wives tales about things you can do to speed the process along, and by all means I am trying what I can.  However, the fact of the matter is there is very little evidence that anything really works.  Waiting is just the name of the game.  The end is in sight, it just isn't here yet.

So today I threw a temper tantrum.  I was fed up.  I wanted nothing less from today than to put an end to all the anticipation, bring on the labor pains and deliver a baby.  I even worked out twice.  The first was a baby jostling workout that included squats, jumping jacks and lunges.  I then moved on to a three mile power walk around the lake.  There are several points along the path that allow us to cut the walk short and at each one I believe I uttered to Nick, "my water hasn't broken yet, let's keep walking."  Nick and Sadie walked patiently at my side like absolute saints, allowing me to blow off steam.  Neither said a word about my obvious frustrations, and let me ride out my internal temper tantrum.

I don't know how I got so blessed with a patient husband who understands that sometimes walking in quiet solidarity is worth more than a thousand words of encouragement and advice.  Tonight, we had a tasty dinner orchestrated by Nick.  We spoke nothing of baby, or our afternoon walk.  I had a time to distract myself, step back and remember that in time everything will come together.

I made sure to appreciate the time we had and that it wasn't at any point interrupted by a screaming hungry newborn, or a diaper change.  We were able to clean up and then quietly reside to the living room to cuddle up with our worn out pooch.  Tonight, I am enjoying that my schedule is my own.  Nobody is dictating what I need to do and I can relax with my own thoughts.  These nights will certainly be missed in the months ahead.  As excited as I am about the entrance of children into our lives, I am determined to enjoy the last few days/weeks of the two of us.  I am relieved to find myself once again at the top of the pregnancy roller coaster ride, optimistic and content.

Homesick

Every year at this time, even after (gasp) 16 years, I get homesick.  For those of you who may not know I grew up in Madagascar.  I spent about 10 years of my life there, and it is my birthplace.  Although attempts have been made, I have not been back to the country since my family left in March of 1995.

During our time there we lived in both Antananarivo and Antsirabe.  I was born in Antsirabe, where I nearly earned myself Norwegian citizenship because the local government office didn't believe that any Americans had ever been born in the city despite my parents both being American citizens.  During my time in Madagascar I attended a French pre-school and kindergarten and a Norwegian school for fourth and fifth grade.  My mom also attempted some home schooling (where I was a less than ideal student) and I spent a few years in school here in America.

I suppose it is a misnomer to say that I get homesick because I do feel very much at home now in my life here in the United States.  However, living in America is much different than living in Madagascar, and sometimes I miss the routine and experiences I had living abroad as a child.  I think growing up abroad, I became accustomed to a certain level of constant homesickness.  I always remark that when we lived in Madagascar I would long to be with our family in America and when we would return to America I would long for my "family" in Madagascar.  I grew up acutely aware that I was straddling two very different cultures.  In some ways I was connected to both worlds and in other ways I was not connected to either.  

Perhaps, it is the isolation of a Minnesota winter that makes me miss the comfort of community that I now associate with Madagascar.  Otherwise, it may be the fact that the anniversary of our arrival back to the United States occurs in the beginning of March and triggers these memories.  It could also simply have to do with the fact that most Minnesotans get cabin fever and we all start discussing travel and escaping our frozen tundra around this time.

I guess whatever the reason I find myself once again jamming out to African tunes on my ipod, revisiting old pictures of my youth and looking up ticket prices to head back home.  I will chuckle when I watch the nightly news broadcast the forecast, and remember when we used to watch the news in Madagascar and they would hold up a sheet of paper with a hand printed map of Madagascar and a written list of the days temperatures.  On one of my next trips to the grocery store I will probably end up buying an overpriced mango or papaya and will probably share with people the joys of lychee juice streaming down my chin.  And if time allows, I will probably drag my husband to the zoo so we can check out the lemurs and I can reminisce over the time that I baby sat a lemur and it nearly ran away...because this is what I do every year at this time.