Ordinarily

I spend a lot of time these days sitting on the couch or the glider in the nursery or on one of the beds just staring into space or out the window or down at the sweet little bundle in my arms, be she squawling at the top of her lungs during the witching hour or if I'm lucky as she has her blue peepers open but her mouth shut as she checks out the new world.  Bottom line, she requires a lot of holding, that's where she's happiest - in my arms.  Sometimes that's a little frustrating when I really need both hands free to do something like make dinner or comfort my crying son who has just crashed his little ride-on motorcycle on the kitchen floor and really needs momma to hold him and make it better.  Most of the time, however, I do really try to just enjoy it...her warmth, the fact that she's this tiny little package I can hold in my arms so effortlessly, enjoy kissing her soft, delicious head and cheeks, watching the corners of her mouth twitch and then pull up into a smile as she thinks of whatever a 5 week old human thinks of - waterfalls of milk? boobs? being back in the womb?  After all, it's highly unlikely I'll have another baby again.  It's quite absurd but I'm actually in a way mourning the loss of each moment while at the same time cherishing it.  It was different with Tyler, I was a new first time mom, I was busy worrying if he was ok, if he was still breathing, if he was going to develop some medical condition, if I was doing everything right or if he loved me.  I remember saying "I can't wait until he smiles at me" or "...can sit on his own" or "...can talk" and Tony would say "you need to enjoy him today."  So I'm trying to just embrace every bit of who Teagan is TODAY.  I know she's ok, I know I'm doing things right and I know she loves me.  I just stare at her, admire her tiny fingers and toes.  She's my little living doll.  I cradle her in my arms but someday she will be too big for that and won't have the time for me until she's an adult and then maybe I can hold her in my arms again, her head against my bosom.  Hehehe.

My bosom, that brings up a few interesting tidbits.  First that Tyler is still very interested in my mammarys and likes to come watch Teagan "having some milk" or "having a boob."  In the beginning he asked if he could have some milk too but I wasn't about to go there, that would be way too weird.  Now as I'm putting my jugs away he'll ask to see them again so I oblige him by letting down the flap on my nursing bra to show him one last time and that feels weird.  What's worse is when he sees my nipple and says "ding dong!" and tries to reach out with his finger to, I dunno, ring my nipple??  Just once Tony said "ding dong" as I was finishing breastfeeding Teagan and it stuck with Tyler.  Lovely.  So I say "no ding dong!" and he just giggles.
The other tater tidbit is that Teagan and I visited the lactation center at Kaiser this week since we were having a few issues.  I love Kaiser and this is a free service they provide so hell yes I'm going to take advantage.  Teagan hasn't been quite the expert latcher that Tyler was so she takes in a lot of air and doesn't get the proper milk stimulation action going so I've been less of a producer this go 'round.  I fed Tyler and pumped each day, usually storing at least 8 oz of milk in the freezer at a pop.  Now I'm lucky if I get 4 oz to store in exchange for some wine or beer or margaritas!  I've been feeling totally inadequate, almost like a man who can't get it up!  Yeah, I know, kinda extreme but there it is.  I don't look down on my fellow mommies who couldn't or wouldn't, for whatever reason, breastfeed their babies for a year like I did with Tyler, but it's just very important to me to be able to feed my babies.  Well, we had a great appointment, I was given some great tips to help Teagan latch better and position to feed her so I was relaxed and not getting back aches and neck cramps like I was.  I also found out that I AM making enough milk for her, even if I can't stock pile the freezer, and that she is growing perfectly.  My little bird now weighs 8lbs 4oz!  Yay!  That horrible affliction that plagued me the entire year I breastfed Tyler and started up with Teagan is even dissipating now.  I had such a negative reaction to the hormonal rush that comes during that initial minute of the baby latching on and my milk letting down that I would feel a tidal wave of depression bordering on suicidal thoughts, nausea and the desire to just go get fucked up drunk and stoned or whatever and just party, but in a numbing-up kinda way, not in a happy way.  Then the feeling would pass, as I clung to any shred of positive feelings I could muster up, and finally I could relax and just admire the baby at my breast.
So things are going well there.

Back to my blank stares and quiet time holding "lil geel" (how Tyler has taken to pronouncing 'little girl' even though he's perfectly capable of saying it correctly) I've been pondering my life, what else?!  I was recently described as "normal" by someone who knows me somewhat well, or knew me somewhat well and who said they never thought they would call call me that.  Well think again and don't call me that!  I was mortified!  Who on earth is ever mortified by being called "normal"??  ME!  What's normal and why is it bad??  I dunno, normal seems boring, predictable, safe, conventional, forgettable, etc.  That's the last thing I want to be.  It's like in the movie American Beauty where Mena Suvari's character talks about never wanting to be ordinary (I think that was the term she used) and that she felt that was the worst thing in the world ever to be.  That's pretty much how I feel and yet I guess I'm living a pretty ordinary life these days so I'm feeling the need to stir things up, have some unordinary adventures and thoughts!  Hahaha!  There's not a whole lot you can do when you have a little baby so I've excused myself.  This whole stupid "normal" thing was the bulk of my therapy session today and at the end of it my therapist said to me "Tiffany, you are NOT normal" and then she totally busted up laughing saying that was the first time she'd ever said that to a patient and have it be a good thing!  Good times.

Ever since having Teagan in the front seat of our BMW X3 (which is NOT a normal thing) I've had this feeling of everything looking different.  It's almost as though all the furniture in my house was rearranged or even that I've just moved into a new home where everything is new.  When we brought Tyler home from the hospital it happened as well but not nearly to this extent.  After you give birth and have this new life that you created with your partner in your arms that depends on you for everything and who you want to protect with your life, the world somehow just looks different.  Things that were once important seem very trivial and you worry less about a lot while simultaneously worrying about a lot more!  Like "screw the homeless issue in SF" to "oh my god I hope my son never becomes homeless!"  So after having Teagan, in the car, and especially after my first therapy session afterwards where I bawled and released and processed the whole thing, I just feel like a I'm a new person.  It's not about a new chapter in my life, it's about a whole new book.  As I started going through the boxes of my pre-pregnancy clothes, packing up all the maternity to sell/donate because now that I'm no longer pregnant I refuse to wear maternity even if I don't fit into my regular clothes yet, I quickly realized I wanted nothing to do with very little that I had.  I went through it all and got rid of 75% of it!  I actually spent the better part of yesterday walking around in my "in between" jeans and bra but no top because I have so little left to wear and a big pile of laundry to do.  It's not about going on some shopping spree because I'm not so interested in that (don't have the money anyway) but just that I could not keep or wear most of what I used to.  It's not about my body either, I'm probably 10-15 lbs away from my pre-pregnancy weight but I'm not concerned about losing the rest because I will.  I did after Tyler and I will again.  Nope, it's just about all those clothes being a different Tiffany, a different time, a different outlook, different priorities and desires.  I'd stare at a pair of pants and memories would flash in my mind and they weren't bad memories but they were old Tiffany memories.  It feels so good to have it all gone, letting it all live on in my memories and in photos but not in my closet.  My head feels less claustrophobic.  Next I will go through my shoes, although I might not be ready to get rid of as much in that department.  I actually did try to go out and buy myself some new things but two things happened: #1-it was not a great idea to be trying on clothes just one month after delivering a baby.  All forgiveness aside, my body needs some work and it was not uplifting to stand in front of a changing room mirror in my granny-panties (bikini actually) and leaked milk stained nursing bra trying to fit into sizes semi close to my old size.   #2-Nothing spoke to me.  I forced myself not to grab things that would feel safe and tried to look at things I felt like I wouldn't have looked at before, and even tried some on, but none of it felt right.  This all threw me into a temporary funk, feeling all dumpy body and lost in the world without an image.  Who was I?  Who did I want to be?  Oh fuck all that in-depth psycho bullshit, I'll just keep it simple for now and see how it all evolves.  Hopefully I won't be regretful of suddenly truly having nothing to wear!