Ellie is seven weeks and one day old today. To celebrate, we ordered up a seventy degree partly sunny day in JANUARY (global warming assisted in meeting this request). Ellie and I took Zoe on a walk just as the high school students were walking home from school, and Zoe greeted each sullen teenager enthusiastically! Watching the sullen teenagers be sullen on a seventy degree day in January reminded me how tough being a teenager is. I wish that Ellie come skip, hop or jump right over those years -- but at least we have many years before we need to worry about that!
I learned a few useful tricks about parenting during the past week. Ellie is already very adept at her part of the bargain (being a baby) but she has been patient with me while I catch up. I learned that sleep begets sleep -- if I let Ellie get too tired, she is too worn out to soothe herself to sleep! We are still working on breastfeeding -- Ellie has tension in her neck and shoulders that interferes with her latch, as well as a tongue tie and lip tie. Oof. Because of pumping and formula, she continues to gain weight at a healthy clip, but we are doing our best to resolve these issues so that Ellie can get what she needs straight from the source!
We have become a little bit more bold about venturing out in the world, also. Ellie spent more time with Kim and her boys on Saturday -- the boys were very sweet and gentle and Beau called Ellie "little sister." On Sunday, Beth, Ellie and I had girl time, and Beth held Ellie for hours as the grown ups caught up. On Monday, Ellie and I had lunch with Rachel and Ezra at Bon Vivant Cafe in Del Ray -- Ellie slept right through lunch! On Tuesday, Ellie and I met with our mom group, and then Ellie's Nani spent the afternoon cuddling with Ellie. Yesterday, we met with a lactation consultant all morning, and then Ellie finally met my colleagues -- all familiar voices, no doubt, that she heard throughout my pregnancy! This morning, we made our first solo outing to Trader Joe's, and selected a few bouquets of flowers.
Last Friday, Ellie was awake and fussy almost all day -- but the last few days and nights, Ellie has been a champion sleeper. I keep worrying that she will deplete her capacity to sleep and then stay up all night, but so far, we have avoided this pitfall. I could certainly theorize about what I have done differently on good sleep days -- more cuddling, more feeding, using driving or walks to lull her to sleep in her carseat -- but a certain amount of these things are simply up to Ellie.
These days, Ellie maintains eye contact for longer periods of time, and her smiling has gotten more consistent. She is very affectionate and still loves to sleep on my chest. She is already wearing three month sized clothing. Her hair has grown in a bit more and her eyelashes are now longer than mine! She seems more calm this week than last week -- perhaps a part of growing into herself a bit more. Time spent with her is a very pure joy.
Motherhood is a complete reorganization of one's life and heart and like visiting a grocery store where the shelves have been recently reordered, I notice bits and pieces of our lives and our selves that are different each day. My idle thoughts have evolved. While pumping milk in the middle of the night, I wondered if there was anything I could do to ensure her happiness and safety for the rest of her life, even after I am gone. My subconscious is apparently a relentless helicopter parent who wants to micromanage even from the great beyond. It was painful to admit to myself that not only could I not preserve sixty year old Ellie from a loveless marriage or a debilitating illness, but there are limits to what I can do for Ellie even while she is living under my roof. (I will surely fight them, but there are limits.)
The best I can do for her is to give her every ounce of love that I possibly can. I should be at least as concerned about filling her with feelings of love and safety and deep belonging as I am about ensuring she receives every drop of breast milk that I can produce. I believe we carry that original love with us throughout our whole lives -- or we do not, and then we carry the deficit, painfully. We give her love so that she can give and receive love all of her days. That simple calculus goes so far in the making of a good life well lived.
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