Eight Months of Memories...

 A few days ago a student asked me, "What was it like being pregnant?"  And I realized that even though it's only been a little while since Picklebug was born, I can hardly remember.

[Jen at 8.5 months pregnant]

What I do remember is that it was one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had.  My pregnancy was smooth and trouble free.  I didn't have a lot of the complications or complaints that some people have.

I remember smiling every time I felt a little kick.  Or rolling my eyes when Picklebug had the hiccups (again!?).

I remember sneaking into the cabinet when visiting my family in NC to eat Nutella.  

I remember being so full of anticipation near the end I almost went crazy!

And I remember labor...

I remember the doctor telling me that "the bullet is too big for the gun" - which translated into the need to do a c-section.

I remember being really scared and how MG trembled in the seat next to my head as they cut open my belly.

I remember the hot sting of tears when I heard a tiny cry from my newborn son.

I remember the nurse putting his tiny, warm body in my arms and seeing his sweet face for the first time.

I remember breathing in his warm, sweet scent.

I remember thinking he was perfect.

I remember taking him home and feeling more lonely and afraid than I have ever been in my life.

I barely remember how we made it through that first night.

I remember that due to lack of sleep and the sheer panic induced at the sound of a crying baby sent me running home to stay with my family in NC.

  

I remember thinking my stepmom would make everything better - and I remember being grateful that she would take me in and help me.

I also remember being mad at her when she didn't offer to just take Picklebug and raise him herself. 

I remember being frustrated and frightened when she began pushing me outside my comfort zone.

I remember walking around the mall with a 9 day old baby, and nursing him in the car on a cold January afternoon.  That experience terrified me - but it proved to me that I could survive a crying baby - even in Olive Garden!

I remember being afraid I would never live up to her expectations of me and that I would go down in a fiery ball of failure.

I remember her telling me that she loved me just like I was her own.

I also remember her promising me that I would get better and I would love being a mother.

I remember feeling relieved when I started to realize she was right.

I remember calling her every night when I got back to VA to give her a report that things were going well (He slept 4 straight hours!  woo hoo!).

I remember thanking God for her patience, love and guidance and for her faith in my ability to succeed which was perhaps the single most important factor in my overcoming post-partum depression.

[PB at 1 month!]

I remember he slept A LOT.  And cried A LOT.  Especially between 6-8pm.

I remember him sucking his little fingers and making little frog noises.

I remember how hard it was to continue breast feeding those early weeks.

I remember sitting on the couch with him next to me snuggled in a blanket while I watched CSI marathons thinking, "stay at home mom's have it MADE!!"

I also remember the few occasions when he went on a nap strike and I decided that being a stay at home mom might not be my cup of tea.

[PB at 2 months!]

At two months old Picklebug became a little more interesting.

I remember his first smile and the flip my stomach did when he directed that little smile right at me!

I remember bragging to anyone that would listen how he was such a good sleeper!  SEVEN straight hours a night!

I remember having my first bad dream about losing him - and how I woke up in a cold sweat feeling sick to my stomach.

 

[PB at 3 months!]

When Picklebug was just 10 weeks old I had to go back to work.

I remember being angry that my current situation demanded that I be a working mom.  And I remember how hard it was to walk away from my sweet little guy the first day I dropped him off at daycare.

However, I also remember the ecstatic feeling of freedom I experienced when I sat down behind my desk and realized I wouldn't have to feed, change, rock or entertain a baby for at least seven hours.

It was bittersweet.

I remember that at this point my baby was starting to notice the world around him.

I remember being amazed at how he seemed to study every little thing.  And how he giggled when a kitty walked by and brushed up against him.

I remember holding a flower to his little nose and watching him sniff the sweet smell.

At four months I found I couldn't resist his charm.

[PB at 4 months!]

I remember how people began to notice how outgoing he was.  And how he would smile at anyone or anything for attention.

I remember hearing his deep belly laugh for the first time and how badly I wanted to catch it on video so I could listen to it over and over.

I also remember how at this point he was sleeping a solid 12 hours without waking up.  And I remember getting the evil eye from other moms when I shared this information.

[PB at 5 months!]

I remember trying to give him cereal the first time.  I mixed it with some bananas thinking the sweetness would win him over.

It didn't work.

Two weeks later I tried again and this time he seemed a little more interested.  When we introduced him to sweet potatoes he was hooked!

I remember being so proud of him for eating food.  But I was also a little sad knowing that he was growing up and wouldn't always depend solely on me to feed him.

At six months we were in the heat of the summer.  This is when we discovered Picklebug's love of the water.

[PB at 6 months!]

I remember the excitement of taking him to the beach for the first time.

I remember being sad that I couldn't share this moment with my mother - who always loved going to the beach and who would have surely loved seeing Picklebug's reaction to the waves.

I remember being slightly annoyed at Picklebug's short span of tolerance for sun and sand.  Didn't he know this was MY vacation too?

[PB at 7 months!]

At seven months Picklebug was sitting up completely on his own.  He was also clapping his hands, sitting patiently while we read him stories, saying "ba ba ba" at random, turning off light switches when we held him up to one and even fed himself cheerios.

I was convinced that I had the smartest baby in the world.

I remember one night when I was putting him to bed, he fell asleep in my arms.  So I sat in the rocking chair and stared at his handsome face.  I remember thinking that there is no love that can rival the love a mother has for her baby.  And there is nothing that can top the pride a mother feels for her child's accomplishments - no matter how small they may seem to an outsider.

I remember a deep desire to call my mom and tell her that I now know just how much she must have loved me.

...

Picklebug will be eight months exactly tomorrow.

At one point, near the very beginning of this journey, I remember thinking I would never make it this far.

Now I can't believe how fast the time has passed by.

I am truly blessed to have had the opportunity to make all the memories I've shared with you, and I hope you stick around to find out what lies in store for the months ahead.

...

Mobile Upload Overload

I recently figured out how to transfer the pictures from my Blackberry to my computer without having to email them one at a time. Did I mention I've had this phone for over a year now?

I must be getting old.

Anyway - moving all my old pictures from my phone to my computer inspired me to share some funny, interesting and touching moments with you. Rather than hoard these memories in my pocket, here they are for your amusement:

My pregnant belly at 22 weeks. I LOVED being pregnant. I didn't have all the awful side affects you often hear pregnant people complain about. No morning sickness, no swollen ankles, no hemorrhoids. It was wonderful having a perfect, plump belly (which actually made my butt and thighs look smaller) to puff out wherever I went. No more sucking in - I had a great excuse to just let it hang out there. Not to mention the perks of elastic waist bands.

This is Mr. Goo helping me put together Picklebugs crib. IKEA is awesome in that their instructions don't have words - only pictures. Definitely an advantage for a kitteh who can't read.

The Pineapple fountain! I took this picture while on vacation in Charleston with MG, my brother and my mom back in 2008. Mom's cancer had reappeared but it wasn't so bad that she couldn't vacation. So MG and I took used all of our savings to treat my mom to an all expenses paid three day trip to Charleston. And we brought my brother along for comic relief. We had a blast exploring old plantations, taking buggy rides through the city and eating lots of fried seafood.

This is a picture my brother snapped of me, mom and Picklebug (tucked safely in my belly at 5 months). This is the last time I was with my mom while she could still talk. The night this picture was taken she basically went into a coma. She passed away 6 days later.

Okay, remember that cute American Express Commercial that showed picture after picture of random objects that look like they are frowning/smiling? It's one of my favorites since I'm always personifying things. Well, last time we went to Olive Garden, I made this happy guy.

Last Springweekend at the University where I work I spotted this couple. Being 4'11" myself I'm always fascinated by really short people that date really tall people.

This sign, boasting some deep "fired" candy bars was posted outside one of those funnel cake booths at The Great Cleveland County Fair. I'm so proud to call this place my home, y'all. Leave it to Cleveland county to deep fry and candy bar and misspell "fried".
*(If you don't like deep fired candy bars, there is always deep fried Twinkies)*

Last fall we had a terrible problem with spiders outside our condo. And I don't mean little tiny spiders. I mean BIG, HAIRY, WHOOP-ASS spiders. Ugh. So big you could hear them scream when you sucked them up in the vacuum cleaner.

Anyway, one day we came home to find this guy outside our door. I did some research and found out that Praying Mantis actually EAT spiders. So I named this guy Atlantis (the mantis) and he became my hero.

We didn't see many spiders around after this.

Here is a GIGANTIC weed growing inside the fence around my patio. I actually took this picture so I could send it in to the head of the association that owns the property to underline my complaint that the weeds are taking over my flowerbed. The next day this weed had been pulled up - but this was the ONLY weed missing. The rest were still there, laughing at me.

And finally, the key to any good marriage is finding ways to humiliate your pets together. It takes teamwork to pull off a feat like this:

We are taking a family trip to Sparta NC to go visit MG's parents - so I'm sure there will be lots of kerfuffle to report on Monday. Until I return, check out this fun website and have a great weekend!

Memories

My mother passed away on October 1st of last year. She was 48 years old and had been battling breast cancer since 2004. I was about 5 months pregnant with Picklebug when she suddenly got really sick. Within days she was gone. Just like that.

Needless to say dealing with this was really hard on me. I had so many questions. I was angry. I was depressed. But above all I was afraid. Afraid that I might not be able to remember her.

I've always been a journal-your-thoughts kind of person, but most of my journal entries were about boys. I never wrote much about my mom or my relationship with her. So when she died I suddenly panicked and started to dig around in shoeboxes and closets looking for anything I could find to help me hold on to her. Pictures, birthday cards, presents. I even went through my voicemail and made sure to save any messages she had left.

But all this searching made me realize that I don't have that many physical reminders of my mother. Only a few cards and notes and one book in which she wrote down some stuff in the back. This made me really sad and frustrated. How was I ever going to remember all the wonderful moments? All of our adventures? Even all of our arguments and awkward coming-of-age talks?

Then, a few weeks ago, I climbed in the shower and noticed that Mike had taken some of my hair and made a little heart on the shower wall. (Now that my body has purged all those wonderful pregnancy hormones I am losing more hair than a cat in summertime). Gross? Maybe a little. But seeing that hair on the wall made me suddenly remember being a teenager living at home and how I used to take the hair that got trapped between my fingers when I was shampooing and stick it to the shower wall. This drove my mother CRAZY. She used to call out from the shower "Jennifer Lynn - you better stop leaving all this damn hair in the shower!"

Okay - so not a super happy memory. But it made me smile to think of it. And with that memory came a whole flood of emotion. How my mom could get so mad about little things like hair in the shower, or empty ice cube trays in the freezer, or dirty laundry on the floor next to the hamper. These memories make it feel like she isn't so far away. They take me back to a time when my whole family lived under one roof. When a trip to Wal-Mart was equivalent to saying "I love you".

In This I Believe II, Christine Cleary describes this same idea in her essay entitled "The Deeper Well of Memory". She writes:

"I believe there is a difference between memory and remembering. Remembering has to do with turning the oven off before leaving the house, but memory is nurtured by emotion. It springs from a deeper well... safe from the passage of time."

Seeing the hair in my shower makes me think Cleary's got it right. Memories aren't something you can always keep in an album or a shoebox under your bed. Memories " ...have a will of their own. You can't control them any more than you can control the weather. When it springs up, a person loved and lost is found, if only for a few seconds."

And I know that there are many other precious memories of my mother out there just waiting for me in the most ordinary places.