Over the last few weeks something fantastic has been happening. This whole ordeal has made me so fucking grateful for T that I have been having this amazing honeymoon phase with him. My experience is after a miscarriage you feel like any baby born is a miracle. Anything, anything can easily go wrong. Of course I feel lucky to have him. And I can’t believe I get to spend my days with him, during the weekend I actually look forward to the week when I’ll have him all to myself. A babysitter has been coming for a few hours on Fridays and while I’m happy to get stuff done that seriously needs to happen, I also miss him like crazy.
Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t all puppy dogs and rainbows at our house. Little man has been sick for more than two weeks and yesterday we finally had to start him on an antibiotic. He’s in a biting phase and broke the skin on my leg this week, he also bit his friend and I almost died from shame. He also is incredibly cranky in the late afternoon. Dude needs to be cuddled after his second nap for an extended period of time, and that makes cooking dinner quite the challenge. But I actually miss him when he goes down for the night. I don’t feel frustrated by the time Z comes home, and I don’t need some time to myself before T goes down for the night.
I think our little honeymoon would have happened to some extent with or without the miscarriage. It’s easier to be in love with him because everything about him is easier. He can communicate with me in a very rudimentary way, he is so excited about the world and learning, he is loving life. Last spring he still wasn’t sleeping through the night. And while babies are delightful and cuddly they are also terribly frustrating. Half the time you have no clue as to what is wrong with them, so you just go through your limited bag of tricks over and over hoping you will hit on the magic bullet. Last fall was exciting and wonderful, but it also was sort of a nightmare. There was an extended period when he wouldn’t nap during the day, and he barely slept at night. Obviously he was a royal mess when he was awake, and Z and I were, too. Things calmed a bit when we started sleep training in the winter, although life was still overwhelming.
And last winter I still had some seriously unhealed anal fissures that T gave me when he was born (sorry Dave, I’m going there), I am still shocked I let it go so long. Because if you’ve had them you know waiting 5 months to get them healed is insane. INSANE. Every morning I tried making deals with God as I wept and tried to do my business. And I don’t even know if I believe that he/she exisits! So when I got some help the good doc told me soaking in the tub daily would be a pretty swell idea in addition to the three ointments he prescribed me. At home we fell into a pattern where Z would come home from work and I would run upstairs for a nice long bath. Like an hour. To myself. Every night. I started reading the Harry Potter series over and over and over. I’m still doing it, over the last 8 months or so I’ve reread the series 5 times. During stressful times I feel compelled to reread comfort books, and HP fits the bill. I usually am a voracious reader, but I’ve read a very few other books during this time. Every time I finish book 7 I promise myself I’ll move on to other stuff, but somehow I end up reading book 1 yet again. For some reason I can’t stop.
For months after I technically didn’t need the baths Z was happy to let me escape to the tub for some end of the day R&R. He missed T because he was at work all day, and I was still adjusting to the never ending nature of my new gig as a SAHM. But when school started this fall I fell out of the habit. I didn’t need a break from T; in fact I had trouble handing him over to Z. Suddenly I can’t get enough of my little man. I’m sure this phase too shall pass. I know he and I will drive each other up the wall again soon enough, but I’ve decided to revel in it while I can.
Doc update: The fantastic news is the doctor couldn’t find the mystery item in my uterus during the ultrasound yesterday, which probably means I did pass it two weeks ago. I had more blood work done, and if my HCG levels go down it means everything is golden, and I am done with this nonsense. The reason I’d still have a low level of pregnancy hormone in my blood is I only got rid of the last of the placenta really recently. So my freak out yesterday might have been needless (sorry about that) and I might might might be home free. With any luck I’ll hear today. I am trying very hard not to get my hopes up. It also looked like I was ovulating yesterday. Who knew I’d ever be so excited to hear that?
He really makes me this happy so much of the time.