I haven't been breathing.

And all at once I heard a sound that took my breath away, deep in relief and frenzy.

I haven't really been breathing since.

Ha! I laughed, airlessly, as this tiny being cried into my ribs, coated and uncomfortable, his sounds echoing into the vacuum of my breathless torso.

Is it okay? I asked the woman peering over me. I don't know, she said, then quickly Yes. Yes. Of course it's okay. But I wasn't speaking of you.

Is it okay to feel as though you are a small nothingness, slipping off the side of the head of a pin, holding the most important thing you've ever seen. Is it okay to feel the weight of dumbness over you like clear waves, pressing you into the dark sand below. Is it okay to want to sleep forever wrapped in gasping fear and wisdom all at once. Is it okay to feel love tearing through yourself, like a sun burning up the clouds over the sea. Love is ripping each cell apart, the friction of newness explodes all neurons in fire and the smoke waters your eyes. And it's okay.

Can I take him home? I asked and they laughed, but I meant it. When can I leave and can it be right now and can we never leave home again? The world was already bored of snow that year and the path we took circled through the forest and past SCENIC LOT NUMBER 65. Once we saw a snow fox there, but not this time, probably because it heard us coming, all important and deafeningly breathless. All full of potential and worry.

And this is where your family sleeps, this is where we wait for frost and thaw, this is where we hold you, without the rise and fall of ribs for fear of waking from this fog. This is where your feet will grow, this is where the lights will glow deep into 4am one night, ears red with fury and the first stabbings of pain. This is where we soak in baths, and wait for sleep. Wait for sleep and wait for sleep.

I admit defeat and I opened my skull and I know nothing. I know everything about you and I know nothing else. You are the most important thing I've ever seen and some days I celebrate the fact that I don't understand you at all. I force myself to breathe. I remind myself to take air, I focus on the pattern, on the wheeze of my unused nose. I remember when it came easily to me. Breathing. Before there was you.

The quick step of a toddler.

There was a time in your childhood that your father played music in a band. He sits with you, in the bathroom while you play in the tub, and plays guitar softly. Or sometimes he plugs his bass guitar into his amp and grooves a bath-time beat for you.

Every now and then I can hear him, stopping to help you keep water in the tub, congratulating you on your latest watery concoction, a bucket full of water and toys.

You are one year and four months old and you are so alive. It is springtime, almost, we can feel it if we breathe in deep at the right time of day. Trees have buds, but are holding their breath. The days tumble by with the quick step of a toddler learning to use his feet and balance. And you love to stomp around, you've only just mastered the vertical existence, and already you see the power and potential in this independence.

Best Buds

You say things like no! And oh oh, mournfully, of course. You use more and again to get what you need. You know how to sign sleep when you are tired, help when you are frustrated, and of course milk, well, anytime, really.  You say car! and point out our low front windows at neighbourhood traffic. You say car! and push around any toy that rolls saying brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbbrr. You build towers out of blocks, not just knock them down. You ask me to turn the music on in the morning and then you dance until nap.

 When you laugh, when you are simply delighted, you throw your head back and exclaim HA! You don't ever want to hold anyone's hand. You are never still enough for a really crisp photograph anymore, unless you're eating or nursing.

Sometimes it strikes me, it physically stops me in my tracks, how magical you are. How fantastic it is to watch you grow and discover. How un-cussing-believable it is that you came from me, that I get to help you build this experience called life. How big and important that makes me in your eyes, how small and tiny and spec-like it makes me feel in my eyes.

Beautiful magical baby.

This time last year I was much more afraid. Everything scared me, everything. I had to shovel myself out the door, shock myself into being human, into showing you the world. This year I am excited. The world is brimming with possibilities and I want to show you how spectacular and brilliant summer-time can be.

I want to show you bugs and water animals, I want to built forts in the urban forests and picnic in their shade. I want to take you camping and show you lake swimming. I want to dance on the green grass with you under the stars and fire-flies.

Squeaky D's Rainbow Birthday of Awesome!

I have been trying to write about Squeaky D's First Birthday for almost four months now. First I nearly lost all of the photos that were taken that day. Very very few photos were taken, but to lose them all in a technical glitch? I don't want to think about it. But I did recover some photos, thankfully, and I've decided to let them mostly speak for themselves. Yes? Yes.

I made the Royal Birthday Baby a quick birthday crown.

I know babies don't really care about their first birthdays. And that is totally cool. But I really wanted to invite over all the people who love him and give everyone a really spectacular day. Since Squeaky D's favourite thing at the time was colours (uh, isn't it every baby's?) I decided to keep it a really simple Rainbow theme and just have fantastic food and a colourful experience for everyone. A big thanks to D's Auntie Kaylin who came over a few hours in advance and helped out big time!

An old parachute hung from the ceiling and a rainbow umbrella.

I was kind of nervous to have a bunch of kids in my house. There, I said it. It scares me! I used to work with kids, so it is strange that I am nervous about it. It isn't because I don't know songs or games to play! There weren't even that many coming, really, it was an adult-heavy event. I decided I would build the children a fort in our second bedroom, fill it with all the toys and a ton of rainbow balloons, and encourage them to make their own good time? It worked. Perfectly.

White and rainbow holiday lights lit the parachute from behind.

The view of the birthday fort from above... several days later!

I kept the grab bags really simple. Every one, even the adults, got a paper bag that I decorated with old scrap-booking leftovers. The children's bags had homemade rainbow playdough, bubbles, a colourful pen, tattoos, and a jar full of rainbow jelly beans, a chocolate, and a disco ball holiday ornament.

Sad goodie bags that were left behind.

Jars full of Jelly Beans for everyone!

 I really didn't get a lot of shots of the food or drinks. I did rainbow fruits and rainbow (as much as possible!) vegetables. I had the usual meat and cheese and hummus and dips and some mini-tacos that went way too fast. I did gluten free and dairy free chocolate cupcakes that were so delicious, iced them with coconut-milk frosting and topped with sprinkles in rainbow colours. Desmond's cupcake was the only one with more than one colour. 

Not a huge fan. He didn't take one bite!

One of each colour. 

I put up a Rainbow Photo wall but only one guest had her photo taken there - and she slept right through it! Squeaky D's good friend Attia brought her Mama, Sarah from A Random Sampling, but was too tuckered out to stay up for photos.

Sarah and Attia

I hand-dyed the orange streamers myself. No joke, a month after Halloween and no orange streamers to be found. And I went to five different stores. So I made my own. Ha!

Our little family is one year old.

At the end of the day, The Squeaker had a fantastic time. He spent most of the day chasing around the other kids and laughing his face off. That's all I really wanted. Oh yeah, and delicious food. 

BIRTHDAY SMOOCHES ZOMG

Happy Birthday, Squeaky D! I love you.

#24. This Moment: It's Autumn, Baby.

My Autumn Baby

 {this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

Who is Mandude?

Who is Mandude?

Well. He isn't my husband. And I'm not his Wife. I'm simply Ms. Square and he is just Mandude, and together we love each other the best way we know how, constantly striving to know how to love each other better and better.

When we first met neither of us gave the other very much of a second glance.

When we second met we could not stop laughing together.  I loved that his laugh revealed his Russian accent and when gushing about him to friends online (livejournal for life) I referred to him as The Russian. As we got to falling in love, moving in together, starting a family... we realized "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" just didn't cut it anymore. Those terms just didn't match our endearment.

So we tried out partner for a while. We still use it a lot to strangers, but it does seem to make people think we are a homosexual couple for some reason. We also tried out the word spouse, which is my favourite word when I'm dealing with the public.

We is serious about Om Noms

And of course there is the ever-popular "Baby Daddy," which is actually a personal favourite of mine but people don't seem to realize that - yeah, we're still together and in love. So darn.

One evening I was on twitter and everyone around me was tweeting about their spouses. Hubby, Wifey. DH, DP, SigOth... none of it seemed to fit us. I thought, who is he to me?

The dude who mans my heart. My Mandude.

So Mandude he became, and he wears the title well.

#23. This Moment: Sick little Snugglebug

My sick little Snugglebug

 {this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

A Letter to Des: You are a gift.

Desmond,

The day you turned six months old I wanted to write you a letter. I would tell you all the amazing things about yourself so that you could forever know how much I loved you on that day. How amazing you were, the incredible baby feats you could accomplish now that you have lived an entire half-year.

No more Wee Little Baby.

I would have told you how, now that you can completely sit, you love to throw toys behind yourself and then turn to see where they landed. How you turn to listen to me sing and laugh when I clap my hands for you. You laugh twice as hard when I clap your hands for you, too. You have learned how to put out your arm when you toss yourself towards a toy so that you don’t faceplant. You’ve learned to put up your arms and say Mama! Mama! When you need me to pick you up again.

I could have written about how you’ve learned to tear off your own socks, to carefully remove the adorable hats I love to make you wear. I could have written about how you figured out the most painful place to pull Mommy’s hair is the back of the neck. And earrings are fun shiny toys that need to be YANKED.

First Cart Ride!

I thought about how you’ve recently realized how awesome it is to suck on your thumb. I thought about writing out the way you recognize when I baby-sign for breastfeeding, how you giggle and snort and say YES PLEASE with your eyes. Or perhaps I would write about the fact that you are still a gargantuan baby at 21lbs and 28 inches long but thankfully hitting a plateau for a while.

All day I marveled at how magnificent you are, how magnificent life is that we all start so small, we all come so far as human beings. How lucky I am to have a little miracle like you to remind me of the beauty of life. When I look back at photos of tiny squidgely little newborn you it shocks me how far you have really come. How you had to cross those murky waters of consciousness and scream in my arms as you made your way through the acknowledgment of existence. We’ve had good days and we’ve had harder days but I’ve loved you more and more with each moment, no matter the effort the day required. I never knew love could have a growth curve like this, before you.

Exploring new senses.

That night we roasted a sweet potato and let you grab a wedge to feed yourself. You were overwhelmed by the texture, the taste of this new sense you had never experienced. You gummed it and spit it out and we laughed as you shook your head and made the sweetest frowny face that has ever existed.

And I realized I had not written about it. I had not taken the time to put it all down... And I was happy that I hadn’t.

You are a gift.

I was happy that instead I had treasured those moments. I looked into your eyes and I soaked up your smile from the first morning grin to the last sleepy bedtime smirk. I left the words to be written for another day and spent the entire day basking in your beauty, marveling at how brilliant and amazing you really are.

You are a gift.

Love,
Mommy.

Mom Voice and Stockholm Syndrome

Alright, my little bean. You've done it. You have successfully laid claim to my head and brain and thoughts and words. My vocabulary is shot. My spelling and grammar is worse. I can't keep an appointment or coffee date in my mind long enough to make it real.

My Captor

You have won. 

I'm absolutely, 100% yours. My heart belonged to you the first time I heard yours beating. But now you've won my smart-ass wise-cracking quick wit, too.

These past three days I've had the chance to hear my recorded voice in two different instances. On Sunday This Manic Mama posted a Mother's Day podcast featuring an interview with me. Today I showed Desmond's Babushka a video of me prompting him to say her name: "Babababa."

Oh, the mom voice. It killed me. It literally stabbed me in the chest with its vile high pitched tone and pulled out all my pride with its sing songy joy. Just know that if you are ever near a mom and she is pulling out that crazy voice - chances are she knows how terrible it is. Chances are she wishes she wasn't doing it in front of you. And chances are she won't stop. I won't stop. I know I won't - he loves the mom voice. And I am a sucker to do the things he loves.

Because the deeper I get into this heart-stealing, mind-controlling, head-over-heels love I have for my son, the more I realize that parenting is just a really intricate, intimate, and joy-filled form of Stockholm Syndrome. And damn if he isn't the most lovable captor.

We Hope for More Good Days.

It's easy to post about the good days. The giggles. The smiles. The day he said Mamama for the first time. The day he sat up unassisted for a good chunk of the afternoon.

It's worthwhile to post about the inner dialogue. The struggle to connect with other women. The desire to stay neutral yet supportive when all moms are doing their very best.

It is so difficult to post about the hard days. The hard nights. The hard weeks on end. It would be so lovely to paint motherhood with this lovely brush, a scene where one woman has it all together and nothing ever goes wrong.

But it isn't like that in my household. We have hard days. We have especially hard nights. We have weeks without sleep and hours that stretch on and on like molasses in the sun. Sticky and tar black, inescapable.

Couch Cuddling on a hard day.

I could blame teething; the rivers of drool and rashy red cheeks tell me to expect baby teeth any time now. I could blame his sensitive tummy; one slip up in my elimination diet and he explodes into painful little sobs. He goes back and forth between wrenching around in pain and then stiffening harder than steel, all while breaking my heart with his little baby cries. I want him to know I would fix it if I could. I would rather feel it ten times worse than he ever has just to guarantee that he never will again.

The good days, oh we float! We are like clouds, we drift over the day in a haze of love, marvel at the sunshine and rain happiness on the people around us. We laugh and tickle, we strut around unconsiously bragging about our love bubble.

But the bad days, we close the curtains. We try anything. We try everything. But mostly we rock and cuddle. We dance and we bounce. We sing quiet songs and say "Shh shh shh, baby, I know. I know."

And we hope for more good days.

A Letter to Des: My Most Favourite Person

To Desmond, my most favourite person,

You are five months old today. All day I thought of writing you a letter to celebrate how incredible you are and all day I just marveled at you instead.

Sitting On Your Own

I can't believe it has been five months since I held you in my arms for the first time. It's hard for me to wrap my mind around how small you really are because to me you are everything, you are my world. And you seem so big, you seem like you have grown so much already. It is difficult for me to imagine all the places you'll go, all the thoughts you'll have - they are mysteries to me, a great secret to be discovered.

I don't want to miss a second of it. 

These days you are sitting on the floor - wobbly but independent. You think your feet are hilarious, and you giggle hysterically when I kiss them or blow raspberries on the soles. You clutch them and bring them to your mouth, but if I congratulate you your focus is lost and the feet disappear. This, however, doesn't slow you down. You are so big now that you've outgrown the baby tub and Papa juggles you, all slippery, in the big kid bathtub while you desperately try to put everything in your mouth. Two months ago you were just noticing your hands, exploring them for the first time. Now you masterfully grab and handle anything placed within your reach and cover it with your slippery mouth.

Jumping in all Your New Easter Gear

Your grandma and grandpa got you a Jolly Jumper for Easter and it is so strange to see you upright, standing there like the little person that you are. I love to watch you jump industriously, so much work to be done! You always look back at me and smile, checking to make sure I think this is as hilarious as you do. I do.

It's true that you don't like to let us get much sleep at night. Even though it gets hard and sometimes I feel completely spent, the cuddling, the kisses, the chubby little smiles make it all worthwhile. The other day you said Mamama and Papapa and we celebrated like you actually knew our names. Like you actually knew who we were and that we love you more than anything.


We do, you just don't know it yet. We do. And someday soon you will know it with all your heart.


A millionty kisses,
Mommy

#9. This Moment: Mirror Buddy

Mirror Buddy

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

#7. This Moment: Busy Day at the Baby Office

Busy Day at the Baby Office

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

Me? Versatile?

What an honour! I've always thought of myself described more by the words "mish-mash" or "smorgasbord" but Versatile sounds so much better!

Really, though, I squee'd with flattery when a saw that Darlena from Tales of an Unlikely Mother chose me to receive the award. Why? Because she is incredible! This mother of two twin girls has a great blog, takes the time to offer toddler tricks (I'm seriously soaking them up for later), and has a great tongue-in-cheek sense of humour - while still honouring mothers and supporting whatever choices they make to succeed in this crazy mommy world.

In part of receiving this award, I was asked to list seven facts about myself and then pass the award on to seven other bloggers!

Let's start with the seven facts:

1. I wear earrings nearly everyday. The bigger and flashier they are, the better. These days my little housebeast has learned to grab onto them so I've had to dig through my stash to find the smaller pairs. I really hope I don't have to give up earrings for him!
2. I have a Bachelor's degree in Education and I was a grade-school and pre-school teacher for 5 years. I actually really love working with kids, although babies are a total new mystery to me. 
3. I have long blond dreadlocks and I have had them for nearly 10 years. They have been many different colours but for most of that time they have been blond or bright white. They are so easy to care for that I can't imagine going any other way right now.
4. I'm not married. GASP. Neither were my parents when I was born, but they are still together after almost 30 years.
5. I'm a hula hooper. Though we really don't like the word "hula," we prefer to call it hoop dance. At one point (ie: right before I became pregnant) I was doing paid performances and teaching classes locally! Can't wait to get back to it, and I'm hoping to post a pregnant hooping video sometime soon...
6. I was dedicated to horse riding for most of my teenage years and even spent time riding competitively. We rode mostly english - with the jumping and the small saddles and the big black helmets - but also loved to expose my horse to the trails and sometimes even cattle. Still love that guy, he mostly belongs to my mom now.
7. I speak french. I used to be fully fluent but I've lost so much of it over the years. Sometimes I still dream in french! I'd really love to take a few classes (or move to Paris...) to freshen up, eventually someday. 

Now I get to tell you about seven other blogs that I truly adore! I am awarding each of these bloggers with the Versatile Bloggers Award - but no pressure, my friends! It's fun for me to talk about bloggers I love - but if you know me at all then you know I am not one for automatically following any rules! 

Seven Incredible and Versatile Blogs:

1. Amanda from the Last Mom on Earth is an incredible woman and mother, and she writes about motherhood in the most gorgeous and heartfelt way. I love her.
2. The Rockin' Momma Blog is an awesome, in-your-face account of one Punk Rock Momma and her view of the world. Plus she is expecting! Can't wait to meet her newest baby rocker! 
3. Sarah from Cerlandia is one of the most brilliant and powerful women I have ever had the chance to know. She is crafty and great in the kitchen - and she's an intelligent feminist with a heart in social justice. Seriously, how could I not adore her? (She's great on twitter, too)
4. I love Jennifer Banks who writes at TechMommy.ca - a hip guide to technology from a mother's point of view. The nerd in me is caught on every word.
5. Sasha from One Rich Mother and I met in the same online due date club and I liked her right from the start. She is warm, inclusive, knowledgeable and dedicated to being an incredible mother. She goes out of her way to make people feel good and that is something to be celebrated.
6. Robyn from The Edmonton Tourist is one of the funniest people I know, ever. She's got a great head on her shoulders and an incredible perspective on life. Every time I read her blog, I find one more thing that inspires me to be more like her. Plus, did I mention she is hilarious?
7. Last but not least... Not a blog but a podcast from Lindsay at Manic Mommy. Lindsay is so spectacular for so so many reasons. She is the reason I survived those first three weeks of mom-life, she held my hand and was the calm voice of reason that helped me through the hectic moments of insanity that were the first few days of Desmond's life. Besides being an amazing mom, musician, intellectual, and feminist - she knows buttloads of cool people and interviews them for her podcasts, and you can listen to them while you make dinner. Rad.

There you have it! Seven facts about me and seven blogs that deserve to be honoured and celebrated!

xox
Farren

#6. This Moment: Teething

Mmm, Icy Cloth

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

#5. This Moment: Story time

Story Time

 

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savour, and remember.

If you're inspired to do the same

leave your link in the comments 

then go to Soule Mama and do the same.

A Poem for World Poetry Day

Poetry is such a vulnerable thing. A simple combination of words that comes from a place so deep in our souls. Of course we are nervous to share our art with the world, it is so revealing! We are made so exposed!

It has taken me a long time to realize that my poetry isn't about the reader or their reaction to it. I write this poetry for me and myself only, I share it because I'm confident that art should be shared. Your reaction is welcome, but it doesn't shape the way I feel about my poetry.

This is an older poem of mine, taken from the book, "Pressed Flowers in a Dictionary," but it is a favourite amongst those who have heard me read aloud.  This one is called:

Scientific Method
seven even veins follow low frequencies of touch
much of which itches to be often soft but aiming
your flaming gaze makes aches of cool
shivers pool in the all small of my back
crack a skinny smile i'll shimmy for your
shake and fake nonchalance while
my mind pines and launches into scheme
dreams about your poor outsides sidled
next to (vexed too) mine.

know that the flow of our bodies ought to be
something pumping as strong as wine while
we find distractions from the
actions my hips and lips cannot deny.

touch me touch me you say play
a melody it'll be the sweetest
feat to wait and wait then reciprocate
but i can't deny the sound sound
of your lies cause the way your
body moves is so damn smooth.


I suggest you try reading it out loud. Happy World Poetry Day! 

#4. This Moment: Climbing on Papa

Climbing on Papa

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 

If you're inspired to do the same, leave your link in the comments, then go to Soule Mama.

A Letter to Des: I am Blown Away by your Everything.

 Desmond,

I can't believe how much you've grown in the last three and a half months. When you arrived on the scene I was blown away by your everything. The tiniest muscle twitch from you became my moment's obsession; I never wanted to look away.

Rolling Over

I am thrilled to be a witness of these monumental and tiny feats. I am honoured to watch your growing awareness of your body as you discover your power and potential. Three weeks ago you looked at your hands for the first time. You pulled them out of your mouth and stared at them with focused intensity. Slowly you unclasped your fingers, reclasped them gently and placed them back into your mouth with a self-satisfied giggle. What a tiny moment, I thought, and yet - everyone in the world has one moment in their lives where they noticed their hands for the first time. Every human had to struggle through the lack of dexterity of babydom, these tiny firsts are a worldwide phenomenon. You remind me that all of humanity is vulnerable and amazing.

Three days ago you completely rolled over the first time. Then three more times. You scare me with your mobility, it is happening faster than I ever imagined. I'm both excited and petrified to watch you grow into a little independent human, moving your own way and making your own choices. Recently you found your tongue inside your mouth and you baaabble on and on to me, especially in the mornings. I nod at you over my first cup of coffee and we chat about our dreams at night. If I had to say, I'd guess you have pretty funny dreams the way you laugh and giggle, your voice echoing through the kitchen. And you are such a sturdy little housebeast now, you hold your own head and look where you want to look - you kick and squirm with power and strength. I am amazed at how quickly it starts.

We speak a common language, you and I, without sharing any words. It's like I was born when you were born, this new version of myself so open to learning all about you. We've grown together these last sixteen weeks and we mostly understand each other - finally. I'm enjoying listening to you explain who you are as you figure it out for yourself. I can't wait to show you the world.

xox
Mommy

My Body's Potential - A Mother's Body Image

I just gave birth 110 days ago. That really doesn't sound like a lot, and it isn't. I'm still processing a lot of what has happened in these last 111 days. For one, my entire perspective on the world has been shifted - there is not one thought in my mind that hasn't been altered by the arrival of my child. But I feel a physical shift, too.

My Belly - Shot by Maak Photography

I know I'm early in the game. I realize it hasn't even been four months since my body rose and swelled and then promptly deflated with the birth of my baby. But every day I look in the mirror and I can see the changes. I pull on my jeans and I can feel where I'm different. In pictures my face seems to be a new shape. My smile is deeper, sometimes I look more concerned than I intend to.

And for the first time in my life I have an extrinsic force motivating me to be healthy, not just a nagging voice inside my head. I do it for him and not for the reflection in the mirror and the societal expectation. A week after birth I remember marveling at my belly when it felt so soft and so empty, lifeless and striped with bright red zigzags. I said out loud: "I want to be proud of my stretchmarks because they gave me something beautiful, they are a symbol of my strength." They are pink-silvery now. Sometimes I barely notice them and sometimes I look so closely at them but mostly I accept them and let them make me feel powerful. My breasts, too, have changed - fuller and heavier than ever before, charged alone with completely sustaining a delicately tiny human life.

Today I stepped out of a shower and actually had a moment's pause to look at myself. I told myself to love my body for what it can do, not what it looks like. They way we love a good book or perfectly ripe avocado with rumply brown skin. My body is more powerful and amazing than either of those things. My body's potential is beyond exponential, it can make something of nothing at all.

Some Breastfeeding Surprises: Help and more.

Baby Des is three months old. One quarter of a year.

That means that I have been sustaining his life with my body alone for over 375 days. I have been breastfeeding him for over 92 days.

I don't understand how that number can seem so small and so large at the same time. On one hand, the time really has scampered past much faster than I anticipated. On the other hand, it feels like so so long ago that I was first looking down at his little face, watching him root and find me, latch himself and get to task.

As a duo, I am thankful that we haven't yet had any problems that got in the way of our nursing relationship. Part of it has been my tenacity and part of it seems pure luck - I know I'm fortunate that I haven't had to sort through a bad latch, thrush, or plugged ducts.

At the same time, it hasn't all been easy. I know many women gush about breastfeeding, and I do it too. But there were a few things that came as a surprise to me as we began breastfeeding as total newbs. And I was one of those pregnant women that committed to breastfeeding as soon as I saw those two little lines, so I was sure that things weren't going to surprise me. I was educated, well-read, had friends who were successful, and belonged to several supportive online breastfeeding communities - but I soon learned nothing will prepare you the way experience will (the way all parenting seems to be), and I had a lot more learning to do.

Some things that surprised me about breastfeeding:

1 - Don't expect to do anything but eat and nurse. Okay, I did read this. It didn't sink in. I had no idea how much time I would be spending as a moo cow for my little baby. From the very beginning, the baby's favourite place to be was my chest. Baby was noming on Colostrum - the first milk a mother makes for her new little one, and this is more than enough for your babe for the first while. Cuddling skin-to-skin as well as nursing frequently and on-demand helped my milk come in on the second day we were home. But my sleepy baby just couldn't stay awake while in the ultimate comfort zone, so I kept a cool cloth handy to keep him awake and we spent a lot of time in the rocking chair. My most spoken sentence had to be: "He wants to nurse AGAIN? ALREADY?" This is why having a support person in those first two to three weeks can be so helpful. My partner actually fed me at one point, which is hilarious now but at the time, so necessary. While his stomach slowly grew, he also became a more efficient and alert baby who could eat in less than 15 minutes.
Moral of the story: Your baby will literally be depending on you, so don't expect to do much, especially when you are also still healing from birth. Arrange to have someone support you by cooking and feeding you and cleaning your house, even if they have to stop in nightly to do it. Feed your baby as often as he or she asks, even if (/especially if!) you feel you don't have any milk and remember that it isn't going to last forever. Lean down and smell their tiny heads, soak up the love, and take at least a few pictures while nursing.

2 - Yeah, it is going to hurt. But just a little, and just at first.  We were released early from the hospital because we were healthy, breastfeeding well, and so ready to go home. From the very start I noticed that his latch was sensitive for me and I got several nurses to take a look. It was totally great, totally fine, totally NORMAL, they said. One week later and my nipples feel raw. I'm applying lanolin after every feed. My toes curl when he goes to latch. Which, yes, he is doing ever hour and a half. I hysterically e-mail my friends who have breastfed, I think, "I'M DOING IT WRONG!" They console me: It's totally fine, totally normal. That is when I learn what no one ever said: It IS going to hurt at first. Your nipples do have to get used to this new extended contact, they have to toughen up. Just like any guitar master has to grow callouses on their hands, your nipples will have to get accustomed to your tiny baby learning to eat. They may get sore, they may get raw, they may even form scabs. But it's okay, it will get easier, the pain goes away, the nipples heal, and you come out the other side forgetting it even happened.
Moral of the story: Practice makes perfect, and your nipples need to get accustomed to their new job. Compared to giving birth, it's a breeze so bear with it and you'll see your way through it in no time. If you have a painful latch for longer than the first 2-3 weeks seek help! See below for more details on where to look for answers.

Des on his 3 month-iversary.

 3 - There are no rules. Get the milk into the baby, that is the only rule. You might have to strip down to get the baby to eat. You might have to get into a rocking chair and not stop rocking for 40+ minutes. Your baby might feed 12 times a day. Your baby might feed 24 times a day. The cross-cradle hold may not work for you, you might have to try several different positions or just make one up yourself. You might not even be able to feel your let-down, and you may find it easier to get started with a nipple shield. When things get tough - when you get overtired and you haven't showered in three days, you are hungry and you, like every mother, have no idea what you are doing - you will have to try everything until something works. You'll know when it does.
Moral of the story: There are no two breastfeeding relationships alike. Whether it is small or large differences - not everything will work for everybody. This is why it is so important to PREPARE!

4 - PREPARE! Yes, you need to find a comfortable spot in your home where you will be happy to sit for a long time over the course of the day. Yes, it is important to make sure you have a large waterbottle. But most importantly: learn about breastfeeding ahead of time, and gather a large enough support group that if you do run into any problems you will have a solid, encouraging, and informed collective of women in which to find answers. Looking back on my experience, I wish I had gone to a La Leche League meeting while I was still pregnant. Many women encouraged me to go - but at the end of a work day I was all together nervous, shy, and fatigued from pregnancy that I never went. That was my mistake because it only gets harder to leave the house once you have a baby. All the women at the LLL meetings are just so welcoming and friendly, there was no need to feel shy at all. Or lazy. If I could go back I would've kicked my slow pregnant butt out the door and gone to an LLL meeting sooner, for sure.
Moral of the Story: The internet is a new mom's best friend, and there is no shortage of reading to do on nursing. I will include some of the best sources at the bottom of this post! And if you are lucky enough to have a La Leche League branch in your area - Go! Go while the baby is still easily trapped inside you! You will be glad to have support if you need it - and if you don't you will at least meet some pretty accepting and awesome moms.


Some important places to visit before starting your breastfeeding relationship: 
Kellymom.com - Up to date evidence based research about breastfeeding - from basic introductions all the way to "How much wine can I have with dinner?"
La Leche League International - Tap into mother-to-mother support, encouragement, information, and education and find a group local to you.
Dr Sears' Breastfeeding Index - Over 50 articles on the topic of nursing your baby, including a lot of trouble shooting and helpful tips as well as the science behind those mammary glands.
Dr Newman's Breastfeeding Help - Videos and printable PDFs on a variety of roadblocks that any new mother might hit - but that don't have to signal the end of your nursing relationship.

One last thing I didn't realize before I started breastfeeding? How proud I would be to hit this three month milestone and how fast it would arrive at my feet. How three months can seem like such a short amount of time while also feel like forever, I don't know. But I'm so excited to see what the next three months have in store. Best of luck to any expectant mothers, I can only hope that my realizations will help anybody preparing to start a wonderful breastfeeding journey.

Read more from me about breastfeeding.