Storyteller, Copywriter, Creator, Connector
Happy Birthday to my sweet baby boy. Eight years ago today, my heart learned the meaning of love. Cole has taught me how to love: how to receive love and how to give love. Thanks to my first baby boy, my heart is open to the world around me.
Happy Birthday Cole Reed. You will always be the best present I have ever received.
One year ago today, shortly after I tucked Cole in bed, I went to the bathroom with a pregnancy test knowing it would be negative. The negative pregnancy test would result in getting my period that night. I could then start tracking my period so Christian and I could get to work on having a baby.
When I went to the bathroom that night, I thought I’d see a negative sign. I thought wrong.
A positive sign showed up before I could even wipe. Christian and I were having a baby. We were so incredibly lucky. I had just gone off the pill the month before. I should have known on that night that everything I thought would happen would turn out completely different.
I thought I wasn’t pregnant. I thought wrong.
I thought there was no way I would get pregnant the first month I went off the pill. I thought wrong.
I thought I would struggle physically and emotionally with pregnancy. I thought wrong.
I thought I was having a girl. I thought wrong.
I thought I would have my baby without any medical intervention. I thought wrong (dumb pitocin!).
I thought I’d have my baby when he was ready (before he due date like his brother). I thought wrong.
I never thought I would carry my baby for nearly 42 weeks and that he would be induced. I thought wrong.
I thought I’d have an easy-going, laid back newborn. I thought wrong.
I thought breast-feeding would be easy (because it was with Cole). I thought wrong.
I thought I’d have my baby on a routine that worked for me. I thought wrong.
I thought I’d bounce back quicker. I thought my pre-pregnancy clothes would fit when I went back to work. I thought I’d run faster and further. I thought wrong.
I thought I’d enjoy another year of not having a period because I’m breast-feeding. I thought wrong.
I thought it would be easier the second time around. I thought wrong.
I may have got a few (or maybe a lot) of the details wrong when I predicted how my pregnancy and my life with a newborn would play out. But for all the things I thought wrongly about, I was equally surprised by all the things I actually knew.
I knew when I smiled at my baby, my heart skipped a beat. While my heart isn’t actually skipping a beat, its synchronizing it’s beating with my babies heart beat. By simply smiling, our hearts become in tune. I knew the moment I held my baby in my arms, he was exactly where he belongs. I knew our family would feel complete and connected thanks to our new bundle of joy. I knew Cole would flourish and thrive as a big brother. I knew my husband would be an amazing father. I knew I would love being his mother.
I knew our life would be better, but I had no idea how head over heals in love with our little baby we would all fall. In one year, we have gone from a positive sign on a little stick to a happy smiling rolly polly of a baby. Life is good!
Every now and then, I’m lucky enough to stumble upon something that I could have/should have written myself. My friend Heidi (my new running buddy. my old high school friend. my mommy inspiration) wrote a blog post today that simple expresses everything I feel about parenting. Go to her blog, read her article, and when it says written by Heidi, scratch off her name and write my name.
It’s nice to have a friend who will say “Yes” when you ask her to run trails in the pouring down rain (that is how we spent our Sunday). It’s refreshing to have a friend who believes in my style of parenting. Heidi has introduced me to Momfulness. She shared with me the article I mentioned in yesterday’s post. Because she has shared so many great resources with me, here is a quote that continues to shape my parenting of my boys:
When children perceive that it’s okay for them to be authentic, that it is fine to feel what they feel, and when they see that we care about their point of view, they will often create the solution to their problem, or make peace with reality. In contrast, when children’s feelings are negated and denied, they are often unable to resolve their problems. They feel angry because they perceive themselves as victims ~ Naomi Aldort (author of Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves)
Go read her blog. I think you’ll love it as much as I do. After an evening of allowing Chet to feel what he needed to feel, I don’t have the energy to write my own post. I’m so glad she wrote it for me!
(And after you read her post, go like my facebook page. I finally made one!)
Like most people who blog, I often write my blog posts in my head through out the day. I write a blog post while I’m running. I mentally file a quote or a moment of realization while I’m practicing yoga. I think of all the things I want to share while I watch my boys play. The first few weeks of Chet’s life, I wrote A LOT of blog posts in my head that never found their way to paper (or computer). I had heard that some babies are born into world needing a fourth trimester. I had heard that our babies would remain in our bodies for this 4th trimester if we were physically able to carry them for another 8 weeks. Chet proved to be one of those babies. I have five drafts of a blogs titled “The Fourth Trimester” waiting for me to write something past the first paragraph.
I never found words past the first paragraph. If I did find the words, I never found the time to write them. I was busy soothing a baby (and a mama) who were living through the fourth trimester. We all know Chet waited until he got an eviction notice to leave my belly. I shouldn’t have been surprised that his nervous system wasn’t ready for the real world.
Today a friend shared with me an article that found words I could have never wrote on my own. The article expressed everything I can now say about the first eight weeks of Chet’s life. It shares everything I wish I had known as I tackled the hard newborn stage of his life. This article could have been written about my baby.
If you are pregnant, go read the article just in case your baby needs a fourth trimester too. If you are living in the fourth trimester, hand your baby to your husband (because I know that your baby isn’t far from your arms or chest) and go read the article. Up until I found my own form of Mommy meditation, I struggled with all the insecurities mentioned in this article. What was I doing wrong? Why couldn’t I sooth my baby? As soon as I stopped trying to figure out what I was lacking and instead focused on supporting Chet through his crying, both of our nervous systems seemed to relax. We were both able to let go. We both grew.
The art of surrender is an act of compassion–for ourselves, first and foremost. When we hold that kind of feeling for ourselves, our babies “feel” it too. We hold them slightly differently. We breathe differently. We may stop “bouncing” them so much and start finding more fluid movements that flow with their true needs. We find…synergy.
Thank you Lu Hanessian for writing this beautiful article. I read it with tears rolling down my face. Thank you Heidi for sharing it with me. Thank you Chet for being patient with me as I learned the art of surrender. I’m still learning, but I know that this is exactly what my baby needs. I’m even more committed to letting my baby guide through the journey of being his mom. In his nearly 4 months of life (and 10 months in my belly), I’m slowly learning to let someone else lead me through life.
The alarm clock wasn’t beeping yet. My baby was still sleeping. The sun was just beginning to make its appearance for the day. I was wide awake as I laid in my bed. Instead of wasting precious minutes trying to fall back to sleep, I got out of bed. I tiptoed past the Mose’s basket. I tiptoed past Cole’s bedroom. My running clothes were already waiting for me in the bathroom. I changed my clothes as quickly as possible before my house could begin to stir. Alex and I got out the door before we disturbed any of the sleeping boys.
My legs were slow to warm up this morning. My belly started to rumble. In my haste to get out the door, I forgot to eat something. With slow legs and a hungry belly, I made my way around a 2.5 mile loop in my neighborhood just in time to see the sun peak over the tree line.
On our loop this morning we passed by an older gentleman we always see on our morning runs. He is out every morning I am on the road. He is always wearing his same reflective jacket. He is always power walking through the neighborhood with the help of his trekking poles. As he always does, he greeted me with a smile from blocks away. He called out his normal morning greeting.
Good Morning. Have a Great Day. And an Even Better Tomorrow.
Good morning to you too (or afternoon or evening). I also hope that everyone is having (or had) a great day and that your tomorrow is even better. My day certainly started with a smile on my face.
Kristy Maute 