The summer's racing by. They always do, even when life was sad and slow. Now, with a baby in the house, they go even faster. An army crawler turns to a speed-demon maniac racing about the apartment and teaching himself how to open and close all the doors (and lift the toilet seat. Need to take care of that). A week at the beach passes easy, sweet day by easy sweet day (even if very few of them are spent beachside. Less sand consumption and better naps that way). The birthday party that is soooo far in the future with plenty of time to prepare for is...gulp...six weeks from now. And we just wrote out the guest list yesterday.
He's going to be one year old soon. I am so happy for him: he tackles the world with enthusiasm and a big smile for everyone he meets. He thrives on new experiences and situations, new places and faces. He gives slobbery kisses with a wide open mouth and big, big hugs when he wakes up from his nap (always with a grin). I know his next year will be filled with wonderful discoveries and adventures-- walking! talking! learning! playing! But I am going to try to slow time down a little to soak up every bit of baby goodness until the end of September.
As wonderful as the idea of Smudgie's next year is, it's of course tinged with bittersweet emotion. I won't get into that now--plenty of time on October 4th for remembering and reminiscing. But with all the excitement and nostalgia, there's also a lot of fear.
I've seen so many blog friends cross this bridge in the last few months: from not thinking about trying, to thinking about not trying, to thinking about trying, to...
I don't want to be there yet. I don't want to go back to my life circa 2009/2010. Especially not now that I have the most incredible little boy to spend my days with. I don't want to waste a day of my time with him obsessing over positive opks or temperatures or cervical mucus.
And honestly, if I didn't worry that there's another 2 year road--or even more this time--ahead of us, I'd probably hold off on trying for another until Smudgie is two and I've finished more of my dissertation. (My proposal has been accepted and I'm just getting started on my first chapter. The end is in sight, but still a long way off).
But it's not like we have a firm TTC date set. First of all, I haven't even broached the subject with Lawyer Guy, other than that we both acknowledge we're not using any protection. He still needs more time to recover from the frustration of those two years and doesn't even want to consider getting back into sex on schedule.
Second, my cycles haven't started up again yet. I'm still nursing Smudgie regularly (five or six times a day), though we're finally going to night wean him beginning this week on the recommendation of his pediatrician. I'm hoping to continue to nurse past his birthday, though I plan to stop pumping on the days I'm away from him once I can substitute cow's milk (I love nursing but I LOATHE pumping. I am so ready to be unhooked from that thing). Will my cycles return if I'm only nursing morning and evening? If they don't, do I wean him sooner rather than later? I'd like the weaning process to happen on Smudgie's timetable, not mine, but that may not be possible.
Ideally, we'd start "trying" again after my first/next period--but a trying without timing things or planning or tracking, none of which I have the strength to handle again. We'd just give it six months (or maybe a year, depending on when we began and how our emotions are handling things) of low-planning conception efforts and at some point before Smudgie's second birthday, if nothing's working again, we'll go back to the RE for round two.
I write it out like that and it seems so reasonable and sane. I know it won't feel that way once I'm living it. The fear will return, the impatience, the stress. The jealousy.
But also, I hope, the gratitude and wonder that we got a miracle once and he's still ours to keep.
He's ten-and-a-half months old. Isn't he the cutest?
Reinvention of a blog
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