We had our first snow of the season today. It was a fluffy melty snow, so it didn’t stick, but it was pretty and foreshadow-y coming down. Bram was so excited to discover the snow. He became enamored of snowmen at some point over the summer (he calls them “mon” with a faux Jamaican accent), and we always tell him that when there’s snow, we can build snowmen. We should probably have been a touch more specific about the quantity of snow necessary for such an endeavor, as he was clamoring at the windows to go outside and build snowmen (he may also be unclear on the part where you have to actually “make” snowmen; that they don’t simply apparate in the snow…a creepy thought). I, on the other hand, have a tough time with winter. We live in a place that stays pretty grey in the cold months. It’s dark when I go into work and it’s getting dark by the time I leave. My office is windowless, so I feel very disconnected from the light. I think that’s an apt description of where I am in general right now. I am deeply tired. I know I’m getting a lot more sleep than R, who is up throughout the night with our restless boy, but I am bone tired all.the.time. I suspect this new level of fatigue might be related to a big growth spurt for Dragon (I feel like I look about seven months pregnant already), so hopefully it will ease up soon. Still, it’s making me not very much fun to be around. I’m moody all the time and am having a harder time than usual just rolling with the punches.
Saul will be one in less than a month; the same week, in fact, that we were to be due with our Love Child. This precipice of loss anniversaries weighs heavily. I’m becoming a little more anxious about our mid-pregnancy ultrasound the closer we get (it’s now five days away). My mind swings from worry to worry (ex., I had the stomach flu during the early first trimester; I’ve only been taking a prenatal and not the multitude supplements I was on with Bram; I haven’t felt the baby kick yet; Bram nurses all the time; I haven’t slept in two years; What if it’s twins?; And on and on…I swear, I could invent a worry from thin air). I know it’s common, but it’s making me a little nutty (especially since the sleep deprivation has already tanked my mental functioning; the worry just exacerbates it further). Where I get to is that “what’s true is true” and we’ll have some answers early next week. I’m hoping that the ultrasound (coupled with finding out the sex) might help me to feel a little more “checked in” to this pregnancy. I know it’s normal to feel less connected to a pregnancy once you’re actively parenting an older child. There’s just less time to devote to literal navel gazing, but I feel like the pregnancy is rushing by and I’m a little blindsided. I hope that if all looks well next week, that I can start to unwind and relax into this pregnancy better than I have been. I know that R has expressed a lot of desire to connect with the baby, but has felt like I’ve been closed down about it. I certainly don’t want that to stay true and I want her to feel like she has comfortable, unfettered access to her baby at any time.
In other news, R and I are going to be providing respite care this weekend for a three week old is in the foster care system. Respite care is a little like overnight babysitting amongst licensed foster care parents. We’re looking forward to a little experiment in what it’s like to have a newborn in the house again and what Bram will think of our houseguest. He’ll only be here for two days, so it’s a short experiment. R is chomping at the bit to wrap a squish. I’m intimidated by figuring out how to use formula (it seems complicated) and by not getting sleep on Saturday night, but it will be fun to have a little one to snuggle with and love on.
So that’s about all I have in me right now. I feel bad that I haven’t been writing anything critically engaging on here for quite a while, but I just don’t have the mental reserves. I pretty much have the grey matter to make it through administrative tedium at work, a multitude of picture books in the evening, several choruses of “The Wheels on the Bus” and “Fox Went Out” at Bram’s bedtime, and an episode [if we’re lucky] of pathos driven television courtesy of hulu before I drop from exhaustion. I’ve even found myself laughing at commercials lately. Like, laughing with sincerity. It’s sad. I know, though, that it’s temporary. I’m with the right person. We have an amazing kid with another on the way. And we all have [hopefully] a whole lot of living ahead of us. I know that my life is very very good. And I also trust that, one day, I’ll sleep with impunity again. And this whole period of early parenting will be like a beautiful, silly, exhausting dream.
I’ll leave you with a hilariously frustrating toddler moment from this week: Since we’ve been night weaning, Bram has been “UP” for the day quite a bit earlier than he has been in the past. This extra hour of sleep was, apparently, very necessary for R and I to be awake, happy parents in the morning. Now we go through a period of bargaining with Bram for just a little more sleep. It never works. Two mornings ago, I knew we were done for when Bram climbed onto my back, wrapped his arms around my neck (while I was sleeping), and began galloping on my back crying, “horsey, horsey!” There was no more sleeping after that. Still, it was hard to be upset with such a goofball kid!