A Lift

I know it has been so very long since I last posted.

I believe I've been suffering from Ongoing-Traumatic-Stress Disorder. 

You see, I quit my high paying job in July of last year partly because I was pissed at how they treated me, partly because the high-stress, high-smoking and high-drinking lifestyle wasn't conducive to the tiny pup in my belly and partly because I grew up in a wild and loving huge family and wanted the same for my incoming baby.

So we moved, at GREAT personal cost.  We lost so much money, people.  Hemorrhaged it.  I lost more money that you might actually have at your fingertips, and I don't mean to be condescending, I just need you to know how much money we'd saved, how many stocks we cashed out, and just exactly how hard this move was for us.   And then my husband lost his job. And then my severance ran out.  And then my parents gave us money.  And then we were slowly ticking that away.  

I would lie in bed at night and there would be actual physical pain, a neck ache, muscle pains like I'd been in a car accident.  My heart would race and my chest would constrict.   Maybe this is a panic attack?  I'm not dying.  I'm just losing.  I'm losing and I'm a loser and I forced my husband to move like this and I ruined our lives and we have this beautiful baby and I'm going to ruin her life by my selfish choices and we have lost everything.  We lost everything.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the poorhouse.   I got my husband back.  I got my marriage back.  I was gifted with this incredible daughter,  and I got to spend five months with her, and it wasn't hard to forget about my life stress while she was awake.  Because the joy of this little girl supercedes everything else I've been feeling.  And watching my sensitive, articulate husband giggle and smile and play with this little girl, and father her with such love and joy?  Oh my god.  If I didn't love this man before, I LOVE THIS MAN NOW.  

I'm saying all of this now because I have a job.   I was offered a really high paying job, in San Francisco, where we both want to live, doing something that I'm interested in, without all the high stress of my previous occupation.  And I took it.

I'll be in San Francisco by June 8th.  I hope that my husband and daughter are not far behind.

The thought of being without my daughter for even one night is heartbreaking to me, because I live and breathe to see her happy.  But she's got a dad who knows all the tricks, bells and whistles, and teaches me new things about her each day.  

And I think..... What a lucky little girl, that her dad and mom were there for her every day of her life for the first five months.  What a lucky wife, with a partner like this.  What a lucky, lucky, lucky blessed family we are.  We had a life lesson that didn't break us.  Just taught us something really important that we needed to know.

I hope to write more.  I've been unable to be very cheerful, and unable to be very snarky, lately. I've been in an extraordinary rut, and I've been unable to do anything except stupid my pain away.  And I don't want this to be a blog about motherhood, because there are better ones for you to read than me.  

Besides which, my aunt told me I should write a book about motherhood (I send home pictures of my daughter daily to my Ohio family) and I am.  I am writing the guide to motherhood fueled with margaritas and a really kick-ass husband.  I could do nothing without my husband.  He thinks I could, and I think he's wrong, but for a compromise let's just say I'd rather not do anything without him by my side.  

Wow, It's Uh, Been a While

I wish I were more like Alison, but I'm not.

I'm me, and I'm not writing here.  And I'm not only not writing here, I'm not really writing anywhere.  Actually, that is not true.  I am writing.  I am writing copiously, I am writing fervently, I am inscribing on my mind and heart the first few months of my darling, glorious, awesome, incredible baby girl.

I have volumes to tell you.  I have full novels sprung from a moment, from a single laugh of Auden's.  I have learned more than anyone ever tried to teach me.  I've laughed more and had my heart soar more in these last three months than ever in my entire life.

I always knew I wanted to be a parent.  I grew up an Irish Catholic kid in Toledo, OH.  My mom is one of eight.  I am one of 38 granchildren  (for those of you keeping score at home, that means I have 37 first cousins), and now there are 11 great-grandchildren.  There are a lot of us, and not one of us in the family is uncomfortable around kids.  In fact, you could say that a predilection towards children is in our very DNA.  

But I had no idea how much FUN this would be.  I love my daughter, you guys.  I ADORE her.  There isn't a single part of this that isn't pretty spectacularly awesome.  I'm having the time of my life.

Yesterday I was rocking her, she was tired and fussy and doing her fitful "about-to-sleep" thing, and so I bundled her close to me and started rocking her and she calmed down and I looked at her and she was just staring at me intently.  She was looking at me like she was memorizing my face, like I was a map she could imprint on her brain and follow somewhere incredible.  She stared at me and stared at me and then all of a sudden, completely without warning, she reached up and touched my face.  It was the first time she did that.  It was the first time I knew she had purposefully reached for something.  I was floored, thrilled, bowled over, delighted and shocked, all in an instant.  And isn't that parenting?

That's parenting.  The awe and wonder.  

This is a wondrous endeavor.  

I've never felt anything like it.  Watching this tiny life flourish and flower in front of me. Despite all of my particulars, this girl is a darling, she is a beauty, she is a joy and she is a PERSON.

I'm awed.  I'm humbled.  I'm buoyed by my daughter.  She is perfect and I'm the creator of something perfect.  And if you've never believed in God, she will make you do so.  Because there is no way that something this perfect and precious comes to the world without God.

Now, check in with me in 15 years, and I might sing a different tune, but for now:

Isn't she fabulous?

Musings

I am hopelessly in love with my daughter.

Every expression on her face.  

The way she jerks her head randomly.  

The way she does this huge squeak inhale.  

The way, when she's getting mad, she pumps one leg rapidly, like trying to start a tiny baby motorcycle.  The mad look she gets when we delay getting her food to her.  The blinking awake of this tiny life.  

I don't know how much of the behavior we're seeing now is an indication of her personality, but this newborn is goofy.  She's smart.  She's generally good-natured, but possesses a fiery temper. When she gets really furious she cries in a way that sounds like an angry duck.  WAH WAH WAH.  

I wonder if she'll ever know, 15, 20 or 30 years from now, how I held her in my arms and tried to keep my heart inside my body, tried to keep my emotions from pouring out of my skin and flooding the city I live in.  I so incredibly love this little girl, I am so completely and utterly charmed by this person, I almost can't stand it.  I look at her sometimes and I'm surprised my husband doesn't hear the pop of my heart as it swells beyond its borders. 

And she's not even smiling at us yet!  

Her tiny smiles, right now attributed to gas, or urination or the contentment of falling asleep, are enough to achieve world peace, they are enough to quiet my screaming heart.  They are enough for me, forever.  

They melt me, utterly.

For so long I have examined my life and my decisions with a critical air of disenchantment.  

I now look down at my sleeping daughter's face and I feel I've accomplished greatness.

17 days old

We're hanging in. I haven't worn clothes other than pajamas in three days and I'm not sure when I last showered. The days blur into the nights, and it seems like I have nothing to show for my hours awake. I'm sleeping fine, but today started crying about a $60 heating bill on our empty house in Seattle. Seems like someone set the thermostat up and left it like that, in our vacant house, with us having no jobs. $60 seemed to unwind me. I am now having a wee glass of white wine, to bolster my Irish heart.

Our daughter is LOVELY. The hugest joy of joys. My darling girl. If you've called, thanks for calling. I'm nowhere near wanting to be talking on the phone right now. It would be awesome if you want to reach me, to email me. The phone ringing right when I'm going down for a nap, or getting her down for her nap, really bothers me. I won't answer if I'm feeding her, and the answer to your question is I'm ALWAYS feeding her.

And now for the photos!!!

Welcome to the World, Pup

The Pope and I welcomed a baby daughter on Friday, December 19th.

Her real name is Auden.  

She was born at 1:13pm.  She weighed 7 pounds, 13 ounces and was 20.5 inches long.

She is without a doubt the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.  

I can't stop staring at her and telling her I love her.  

I have never done anything in my life that made me so instantly and completely happy.  

Birthday

Posting very quickly to say that in four hours we will check into the hospital to have the Pup.

They will be inducing me at 7:00am tomorrow morning.  

The next time you hear from me, I will be a mom.  

How exciting!!!!!

Love,

Sal, Pope and Pup

Too Much Information in 3...2...1...

So, today I received an unpleasant surprise.

It seems that checking your cervix to see how far effaced you are is NOT comfortable.  

And when I say it is not comfortable, I mean that I almost slapped my doctor.  

Eeyagh.

The baby dropped two days ago.  It felt like someone was pushing down on my stomach, these brief but strong feelings, three times in quick succession, and then all of a sudden I could take deep breaths.  My heartburn also pretty much stopped.

Let me pause and reflect, "thankyougodthankyougodthankyougodthankyougodthankyougod."

Heartburn sucked.   Heartburn sucked in WAVES of suck.  Roiling, burning, gigantic waves of suck.  I fell asleep one night last week with a Tums in my mouth, and woke up with a trail of pink dried across my cheek.

The trade-off is that I have to pee CONSTANTLY.   Two nights ago, I peed five times in 30 minutes.  The urge was URGENT.  I would hoist my body up, disentangle myself from Lucy, pad over to the restroom and tinkle out about three teaspoons.  I do all my tricks, I lean very far forward, I wait a few seconds, I sneeze (this one is a sure-fire squeezer).  When I am sure I am done, I stand up and immediately feel the urge to pee again.  At one point, in extreme frustration, I mentally decided that I would pee the bed.  I would just do it.  My husband loves me, and he feels so sorry for me, he won't mind.  Well, he will mind, but I will act horrified and disgusted, and I will try to cry and he'll forgive me.  

The belly is huge.  It has its own zip code.  It has its own laws of gravity.  Walking around trying to support it and keep my balance now requires the waddle.  The other day I was sure I'd flattened the arch in my foot, just by wandering around the house.

We signed another offer on our house today.  This is the third.

We are happy, but it is hard to let go of our doubt and frustration.  We've been happy and excited two times now.  Two times now the deals have fallen through.  This deal represents the absolute bottom of our finances.  We don't make any money.  Before we countered the absolutely absurd* offer we received, we figured out how much we owe on the mortgages, how much the interest will be, how much the commissions will take, closing costs, etc....and countered with a number that allows us to clear all this.  That's it. 

*Absurd = Offering $300,000 for a house currently listed at $334,950.  

I am resurfacing from a couple weeks now of worry, doubt and fear.  I will say that the Pope and I are having fun together, and that is so incredibly rewarding.  If I have nothing but him, and our baby, and our kitties, then I am still very rich.  

We went over to my sister-in-law's house (the Pope's sister) last night for dinner, and we just had a blast.  I sat there, surrounded by my husband and his wonderful family, and we were all laughing and laughing, and talking, and marveling at the nieces, who are spectacularly interesting, and I couldn't help but think about how lucky I am.  How blessed we are, and how important it is to realize that.  

I hope I keep realizing that.  

Freedom

Yesterday, I lost my job. I didn't get fired, they just accepted my pseudo-resignation. I had tried to move with them to Northern California, but they didn't have anything for me there, so they said that and then there were these long pauses. They were willing to keep me on in Seattle, but the Pope needs to get to Northern California as soon as possible, so that wasn't an option for us.

So, effective next Friday, I am no longer an employee of the company I have worked at for 9 years.

I feel ELATED.
I feel like I was just paroled. I have been so unhappy for so many years, and then the February Scotland explosion burned me to a crisp.

And with that brief update, I am going to pack.
Because my new life is waiting for me.

Waiting for the Pope, waiting for the Pup and waiting for a happy Salome to come down and remember that life shouldn't have to be so hard, and you shouldn't have to work yourself into a chronic hive condition in order to live.

Happy Independence Day.

A Baby Shark is Called a Pup

As some of you may know, the Pope and I long for a child.
We have been trying, on and off, since January 2007.

We have both long held fears and suspicions that some vital part of our bodies wasn't working.
We've spent our lives being afraid of contraception failing, fear of unplanned parenthood.

Then you try to get pregnant and you realize that there are only about 3 days a month that it is likely.
And even then, you could try for months and months and months and months without ignite.

So much to our wondrous relief, much to our teary heart's desires, it is with great joy and pleasure that we announce the existence of our little Pup, due December 15th of this year.

Thank you God and all our loved ones in the heavens, for allowing this miracle to happen for us.

Love,
MamaSal and DaddyPope

He Was So Proud

This weekend the Pope bought himself a straight razor.
He tried it out Saturday morning:

He walked out of the back of the house to where I was on the phone with ScaredMamaBear and asked how he looked.


He looked like he'd been on the receiving end of a weedwhacker kiss.
For the rest of the day he said people looked at him funny.
He would say, "you should see the CAT!"

This man cracks me up. I love him to bits.

ScaredMamaBear doesn't write very often (she's got two wee boys) but when she does, it is worth reading. Check her out when you have the time.

By the way.......I am to call Santa Fe at 8:30 tomorrow morning, and I've got two more calls tomorrow regarding what San Jose can offer me. Or what I can offer them.

Believe me when I say that all our prayers got stuck in a queue somewhere.
They're being answered, one by one by one by one.

And We're Off!

Going to California this weekend, to see our families.

Couldn't be better timing.

Nieces

Mothers

Fathers

GRANDMOTHERS!

Oh, the joy.

I had an appointment with a placement service this morning.

They said I'm overqualified for their standard level placements.

The guy said, and I QUOTE "You are going to be snapped up very quickly in the open market."

That felt nice.