My Birthday: A Long Night's Journey Into Day

So I effortlessly survived Lulu’s first birthday. I believe that writing about it and analyzing why I was reluctant to reach that date made it simple, easy and actually joyous for me.

But I almost didn't survive my own birthday this past holiday weekend. Except that I did and I am so grateful that I did, especially since one wrong move could have turned it into quite a depressing occasion. Dramatic statements aside, I will cut to the chase: I didn’t sleep the night before my birthday. At all. Okay, maybe 20 minutes. Apart from my long labor and delivery, I had never been in an up-all-night situation that didn’t derive from partying and resulted in sleeping till the afternoon.

A blast from the past

Ah, parties, dancing. I miss that. Needless to say, those all-nighters were cheery and fun. Three nights ago it was the most vicious insomnia I’ve ever encountered (I guess I can’t escape the dramatic lingo today. Bear with me.), and I’ve had my share of vicious insomnia, especially since becoming a mom. But even the very worst insomnimama nights yielded some amount of sleep- two, two and a half hours….something! And even the worst baby-not-sleeping nights always allowed a courteous minimum. The night before my birthday pooped in my face.

I tried everything. Breathing, lavender drops on my pillow and all over my body (I think I finished the bottle), writing, visualization, even a foot massage from my poor Goog, who was woken up by my deep breathing and generously offered to save me from my sleepless abyss. Did my subconscious decide to attack me? I’m reluctant to admit that it did. I think I had suppressed how much I was dreading this particular birthday. One reason was similar to why I had been dreading Lulu’s first birthday. Accomplishments...A year has flown by and I haven’t taken more than one professional step. My career passions have been replaced by my passions as a new mother, but I’m noticing a shift these days. Even though it’s so hard to leave my Lulu for more than a couple of hours, I can see myself going back to performing within a modified schedule. I’m starting to feel it. It’s been a slow process and my upcoming birthday wasn’t helping. I would be a year older with nothing to show for it other than motherhood. I know, I know, I’m so hard on myself, but I have to be honest here. It’s such a challenge to be constantly mindful of what I really want versus what I should want. I would like to believe that I have successfully maintained my integrity and followed my heart instead of forced myself to do what I wasn’t ready to do. The problem is that even though I’m now feeling ready to make a small shift, it’s so damn difficult to reinvent my career while being deeply invested in my mothering style, which I’m definitely proud of.

You think I’m vain? Wait for the next reason I suspect was keeping me up. I miss my parties! I miss my fun birthday parties. Am I done being a party girl?! I used to have an elaborate celebration every year. Every year! A good friend told me that once you become a parent there’s no longer room for your own birthday party. I refuse to accept that. But there’s no birthday party this year, and I miss ANY adult-type party. And dancing. Dancing. I can’t stress it enough. Going out dancing. Being carefree.

My subconscious was attacking me because of one more thing, hardest for me to admit: My avoidance of thoroughly dealing with my dad’s passing when Lulu was growing inside me. I miss him so much. It was going to be my second birthday without him, without his irreplaceable blessings and love, without our tight bond, without the language that only he and I shared. So much pent up.

As dawn was approaching, I was busy obsessing over how I had completely ruined my birthday because I would be a functionless, moody, ugly, puffy-eyed, puffy-faced zombie. The last drops of nighttime completely evaporated as I was stressing over the worst case scenario, but morning arrived and so did the salvation of my devoted family spreading endless love, a dreamy nursing session and my morning coffee served just the way I like it. Not that the coffee woke me up at all, but after such a dark and scary night, my familiar morning routines became sturdy anchors of comfort.

Morning Salvation for puffy mama

I tried to speak but it was impossible for full words to come out. What a freaky sensation. They tried really hard, yet only half words got out and no one understood what I was trying to say. I surrendered and stopped talking altogether.

I knew the plans for the day would need to be adjusted, but all I really wanted on that early morning moment was to lay flat and not move all day. I thank God, inertia and the very costly last minute cancellation fee for forcing me out of the apartment. Holding hands with my dear mother, we headed to the glorious Great Jones Spa for a birthday treat. I’m sure that somewhere in my deliriously foggy brain, I knew it was the best option. 

As soon as we walked in, I found myself telling the receptionist the story of my life. From my half words earlier, I moved into nonsense talk. I really didn’t make any sense, which makes me so grateful that she ushered us right away into the locker room. The original plan was a quality spa morning with my mom, a facial and a massage. We ended up spending all morning and much of the afternoon in the most soothing and rejuvenating setting, resting, bonding, relaxing, eating delicious organic food and drinking lemon water between Jacuzzi dips.

Post-facial face drinking
 carrot-beet-kale elixir

To my surprise, I didn’t fall asleep during the facial and massage and I still struggled with taking deep breaths, but there was no magic pill for the stress I had been keeping inside. Luckily, there was progression in the breathing department though and by the time we set up shop at the Water Lounge, I was ready to take my deepest breaths of the day thus far. The Jacuzzi was my peak. I closed my eyes and felt effortlessly relaxed. Wow.

A note about FACIALS. I don’t believe in resolutions for many reasons but I hereby declare that I am making an exception when it comes to FACIALS. Who knew what they could do?! ("Most women," you’ll say, but I’m a strange creature.) I couldn't believe it! I should be doing this regularly! I think the rule is every season? I deserve it! Why didn’t I know that? Where have I been?! I have no idea what that lady did, but when I came out of that room I didn't look like someone who hadn’t slept all night. My skin was glowing, vital, smiling with satisfaction. It's not used to being treated with such respect, but I’m putting a stop to it. My birthday present for myself is the decision to get facials. Since I’m a woman of my word, there’s no way back.

  

Deep breathing

As we headed home it was pretty clear that my romantic birthday dinner with Goog wasn't going to happen, as I hardly managed to drag my feet home. We still wanted to have some form of a birthday dinner so Goog had the brilliant idea to go to the new pizzeria across the street. We had the place to ourselves at 5 PM and it was perfect. Far from what was planned but warm, cozy, full of love and simplicity that only a pizza dinner can provide. And it included my mom and Lulu, which was the real treat.

Pizza party!

I can wholeheartedly say that I had the best birthday I could have imagined under the circumstances. Even aside from the circumstances it was an incredibly precious day, and just like the enlightening facial, I know I deserved it. I also deserved the uninterrupted NINE hours of sleep that followed my 8:30 pm bedtime that night.

My Birthday Lessons/Presents for Myself:

1. Get a facial every season (Who am I kidding? Let’s make the goal once a year.)

2.  Say “I deserve it” more often and act accordingly. It would be too ambitious ask myself to always mean it so I will settle for saying it.

3. Embrace change/change in plans and make the best of it (no sleep, messy career perplexities, birthday plans, and the list is long…). Not that I don’t normally try to apply this idea, but my birthday was such an eye-opening reminder.

4. Enhance my gratitude practice.

5. Learn to let things out before they bite me in the ass by keeping me up all night. If my new motherhood taught me that there’s no room for that, it hasn't been a helpful lesson because it clearly doesn't serve me. More importantly, it is opposite of the example I wish to set for Lulu.

Owning it: Happy Birthday to me! 

How Dare I Dread Her First Birthday?

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.....4 days to Lulu's first birthday and not only am I not armed with elaborate festivity plans or a festivities plan, I'm actually dreading it. I've just typed the word "dreading" and I'm about to delete it before I reach for the beat-myself-up button for letting my shameful brain come up with it. But I need to be honest with myself and figure out what's going on. Brutally, if possible. So yes, it sounds like even our supermarket cashier is more excited about Lulu turning one than I am. Everyone around me keeps saying, "You must be soooooooo excited! ", "What do have planned?". They've been saying it for at least a couple of months and I have been under the impression that it would all come naturally, but it's 4 days to the big day and nada. What's wrong with me?
How about a brutally honest list. I never do this (compose lists that explain things, not be brutally honest), but I will now. Get to the bottom of this strange phenomenon and perhaps be more prepared for Saturday. It will also be nice to find a way to get pumped.

4 days, Mama. Get with the program.

Dig Deep.
Why am I Not Getting Excited About Lulu's First Birthday: A Brutally Honest List





1. The Headache:
Okay, I'm starting with the obvious. It's a big day. Monumental. Your first baby's first birthday happens only once (any birthday happens only once but no one is asking me). I'm a performer, a producer, an artistic mama. There are high expectations here. Up to par, mama. Up to par! But whether it's other people's expectations or mine, I'm not supplying the goods. Part of me feels it would be silly to create a whole production for someone who would not fully recognize its purpose.
I go back and forth, but we already set a date for the party. I want small and intimate at home, but we have a big family so that's not realistic. We are keeping it at home, though. That's where I draw the line. How do we fit everyone in our apartment? Well, that's why it's called The Headache.
Resolution? Waiting till the last minute. I'm serious. I tend to work well under time pressure, and so said Headache will be reduced to a short amount of time.

2. "Just a Little Bit Longer"- Fear of the Unknown:
I was never ready to give birth to Lulu. The combination of enjoying my pregnancy and being quite phobic about labor and delivery pain resulted in the intense wish to extend it "just a little bit longer." I may be reluctant to cross the first year finish line because the second year brings about a new system: Toddlerhood. I'm just so enchantedly adept and conversant in the Infancy system that I would like to enjoy it for just a little bit longer. Can you blame me? (Please don't answer that.) I recognize it's not possible just as much as I recognized that keeping Lulu in my belly forever wasn't possible either, but a girl can dream. Regardless, even though I have a mild or severe case of resistance to change, it is essential to remind myself three things: (a) It's coming very soon, whether I like it or not. (b) Similar to the moment Lulu was born, instantly ending my beloved pregnancy, I will end up passionately relishing and rejoicing in the new chapter. (c) Embracing rather than resisting has always paid off, with interest.

3. A Case of "I'm Not Ready for Her to Grow Up":
This is close to my previous point but deserves its own point simply because I've been there once before when we needed to start solids. Lulu turning a year old strongly resonates with the sensation that she's growing up too fast. I'm spitting distance from imagining her leaving the nest.
Once again, it would be wise to remember the start-of-solids days. New discoveries are exciting and I tend to wholeheartedly enjoy them. So there.

4. I'm Not Where I Thought I Would Be:
Uh-oh...There we go. Deep breath. A year ago I had a different idea of where I would be when Lulu turns one. I didn't think it would take me so long to reconnect with the pre-motherhood me. It's taken me a while and it's still a mystery, especially in the career department. It has taken me a lot longer than I anticipated to feel ready to work and create again and I'm finally there; however, now I'm tortured by the idea of leaving Lulu on a regular basis. I'm profoundly enjoying raising this magnificent human being who is by far my best creation, even with the natural challenges of early motherhood. I'm sorely torn. But I digress. My point is that a whole year sounded like a really long time prior to Lulu's birth. I had plans for myself. Even though deep inside I had a feeling that I would be fervently consumed with being a mother, I didn't imagine that at the year mark I would still be so, hmm, well, consumed. I had a general plan to nurse, for instance, but I didn't anticipate how much I would love it and that it wasn't going to stop at a year. And that's just one example. Embracing really paid off, but it's also confusing. I'm still figuring out my new identity. I continue to find myself once in a while deluded with the idea that I can go back to exactly how I was pre-motherhood. So yes, extending this year will allow me to figure things out, clarify myself to myself and be where I had expected to be. But isn't it foolish? Once again, I'm holding on to hollowness, setting myself up with a useless trap (are traps ever useful? Discuss.). Where am I going with this? The only thing I can truly accomplish by obsessing over my pre-conceived plan is a colossal waste of time, precious time I could be spending by actually creating and reconnecting with what I miss doing. Ouch.
Let go.  
Looking deep inside, I realize that I'm thrilled to discover my career path as a mother. At a minimum, I'm pretty sure I have new and improved colors and depths to offer as a performer. 

Party?! Every day is a party!!

Phew. So....now that I've dissected the reasoning behind my "dreading", am I prepared? Pumped? Psyched? Based on my exhaustively exhausting investigation, while hoping you haven't fallen asleep just yet, it's inevitable for me to conclude that if allow myself to fully and wholeheartedly exist in the moment, dreading Lulu's upcoming birthday would be an impossibility. 



I'm going to focus on the moment. 
Embracing the moment. The moment never disappoints me. I'm counting on it to pay off, with interest, as always.
Will report from the field.

How to Not Force the Force

Me time. Writing/creating time. But nothing. Nothing. 
I'm sitting at Bwe, drinking half-caff of the best, smoothest, most inspiring coffee ever. Seriously, this place is populated by so many writers/authors/bloggers/creators. It's in the air, and probably in the coffee. Why am I getting nothing today? I'm always full of ideas here. But now, on this Sunday afternoon, equipped with the right amount of carved time, my mind is wandering anywhere but....
What's going on?

Can't think of anything? Shoot some selfies!

My last post was all about being back, and Monday night's NYC premiere of Dovid Meyer confirmed the new sensations. Ready to rock n' roll, yes!! New ideas for the video series, interesting new directions, all around inspiration. Momentum. 

Is it because it's half-caff? Is it the too much sake last night? I keep forgetting that there's no sleeping in anymore (till kids go to college?) and that my low alcohol tolerance is even lower as long as I'm nursing (case in point, I had half a glass...). Or is it the fact that today is cold and gray, again? Even though spring has officially started already, it seems like we're still in the midst of the coldest, longest winter ever. Not the friendliest winter to a new mom...Too many snow storms, too many strolling naps in the hallway, too much cabin fever, not enough light, not enough air, not enough social interaction...
Okay, what's with the party pooping? That's not like me. Positive, positive!

Luxuriating in some party pooping

Maybe it's none of the above. Maybe artificial carved out time isn't the way to go. Maybe I need to let my inspiration allow itself to materialize whenever it pleases. Okay, keep talking. This makes sense! How many times have I felt it so powerfully (thank you, Spin class!) but haven't taken it anywhere? I think I have just figured out the key for me. I guess the old me just needs to make some adjustments to motherhood. Did I really think that the old me was just gonna take over? Okay, slightly deluded, but hey, I'm a work-in-progress, and I'm pleased with my new realization (was it obvious to you?). From now on, notes, notes, notes. That's all I need. So when I finally have a moment to sit down, I will be able to fill it with enchanted creative flow derived from notes, notes, notes. 

Okay, I'm going to enjoy staring out the window and taking deep breaths. Let it go. Take it in. Spring is around the corner.

Out the window. Almost spring.

Setting Up a New Stage- My Old Me is Reborn

As I was typing the above title, I realized the heavy responsibility that comes with it. I'm now held accountable for my new discovery....And since I'm big on integrity, I'm committed to reconnecting with my pre-baby creativity/art/passions/persona, which organically resurfaced in me this week. I'm so delightfully pleased to know that I didn't push or force myself. Knowing that I didn't need to is an extra bonus. I embraced motherhood and it felt good. Still, I can't say that I wasn't terrified to pause once in a while, unable to find a trace of who I used to be. 
My dear friend A. said it best, "Told you that somewhere around a year you truly begin to recognize yourself again in the context of life's most important role...".
So I'm starting with a video project. I'm hoping to make it a series. 
)

New Year. New Room. New Sleep Era

I'm big on integrity, which might explain why I haven't blogged in how long? How could I possibly face you after committing to an immediate big move and not following through for...two whole months?

  

So we finally did it, and now I can look you in the eye. 

Lulu moved to her own room yesterday. We figured New Year's Eve would be the right time. Yes, it took us a long time and a lot of "Next week for SURE!". In our defense I will say that in the last two weeks we have had an added reason (or excuse) to push it off (what about the other month and a half, you might ask). 

You see, Lulu started sleeping through the night, which meant WE started sleeping at last. It was a long process that took dedication, endless love, hard work and... one single moment of discovering sleeping on her belly. A word on that: I think the United States is only place where belly sleeping isn't encouraged until babies get there on their own, but we followed the "rules" and waited, even though we knew it would be the best comfortable position (we also had proof - numerous peaceful supervised naps). My mom actually demanded that I apologize to Lulu for not letting her get to belly sleeping sooner...

I digress. Belly sleeping was our game changer and we became apprehensive about messing with this delicious taste of relief. Who knows how Lulu will take the move? I became anxious, creating scenarios of returning to sleepless nights, insomnia and other fun stuff. I started telling myself that I needed only one more night of uninterrupted sleep before we took the plunge...one more...two more...three more. 

Instead I should have focused on Lulu's tremendous future upgrade. Unmatched accommodations and amenities: No more shaky Pack n' Play! She was going to move to a room of her own, free of tiptoeing whispering parents who still managed to wake her up while trying hard not to. Her new bed was much bigger, which means more space to explore. Her mattress was the real deal, not to mention the plush organic mattress pad and sheet. The works! We personally would be very pleased to sleep in this crib if we could fit in it.

Upgrade. The works.

Cut to 12.31.2013

Morning nap approaching. As we go through our nap ritual (rituals work so well with babies!), my heart is missing a beat or two. Not only was I naturally expecting major resistance, I was also deeply pondering the meaning of this next step. Separate rooms. Separate rooms. It means so many things. So many...

I do dig the new digs. Better than Ima and Aba's for sure. Better colors too.

I put Lulu in her shiny new crib while her Aba was filming the historical event (yes, we're dorks). I showed her where I had placed her pacifiers as I always do and left the room. Within the next 5 minutes I went in 3 times, probably for 10 seconds each. Each time Lulu cried simply because she couldn't find the pacifiers (it is a bigger bed after all), not because she wasn't happy with the sleeping arrangement.  She actually seemed very comfortable and fell asleep on her own. Goog and I looked at each other in disbelief. That's it. She's sleeping. Done. History.

Serenity Now!

I will admit that drops of anxiety managed to creep in as the evening approached. That's what counts. Night sleep. What if...What if. Well...what a waste of anxiety. Our incredible baby fell asleep as soon as we said Lyla Tov and had the best night's sleep into the new year!!! Unbelievable! Which reminds me....Another historical occasion is the fact that it was the first New Year's Eve I can remember being asleep before midnight. Party girl is now a mama and isn't able to stay awake to celebrate the new year. How did this happen?! We put up a fight but lasted only till 11. Ok, 10:50...Ok, 10:45. Ok, we didn't really put up a fight....we just went to bed as soon as we were done with our midnight toast (midnight in Buenos Aires). Surprisingly I was able to fall asleep easily. After all, we've had Lulu in our room since she was born, 8.5 months ago, and I anticipated difficulty. But all I got was a little pinch in my heart looking over the deserted Pack n' Play, about 60 seconds of staring into the monitor, watching Lulu sleeping like a champion and one very long & strong hug which smelled a lot like a combination of "We finally did it, yay!" and "Our little girl left the nest, oy!". And that was it. Smooth entry into 2014. Glorious sleep. I'm proud to say well deserved.

Wishing you all a glorious year! Happy New Year!

I like it here! Happy New Year!!!

Sleep? No? More?

Do all parents know prior to childbirth where their baby will sleep and for how long? We were proud to have a clear idea actually. The plan was to keep Lulu in a Pack n' Play in our room until two-three months old. Why? We assumed we would want her to sleep with us until we were all ready to move her to her own room. Of course, I didn't understand the word "ready" prior to becoming a mama. How do we know she's ready? And the even more complex question- How do we know WE are ready?...Once again, who knew that we would be the hindering cause....Before Lulu was born, I personally insisted that Goog and I take ownership of our private couple space as soon as possible- the minute our baby showed signs of "ready."

Needless to say, yours truly hadn't defined "ready". It became the vague idea of two to three months. There had been no doubt in my mind that three months would be the latest she would move to her cute purple personal space. Tricky assumption. It's quite clear by now that Lulu's sleep is easily interrupted by coughs, sneezes, our footsteps, her mama's smell and a lot more. Anything that comes from US. Outside noise? Forget about it! She's immune! Garbage trucks, sirens, our noisy heater/AC unit that randomly roars throughout the night, fireworks (!!), you name it. Fresh example: We're at a cafe right now (Bwe- best coffee, inspiring space, personal favorite), and Lulu is sleeping so peacefully through loud music, ear-piercing espresso machine, door opening and closing, noisy chatter...But late at night we still have to whisper to each other under the covers (don't get me wrong, it's enchantingly romantic, but sometimes it's hard to breathe in our dreamy tent). 

So deep into her six month birthday, Lulu is still in her Pack n' Play, sharing sleeping space with her parents. Who is not ready? Lulu or her parents?...

Since her three month birthday, we've been telling each other periodically that Lulu undoubtedly still needed us right by her at night, but the excuse is not working anymore, since we seem to interrupt her sleep even when we try so hard not to move in bed...

It's us... Deep inside we know it's us. And now we know it's time... We can't wait to reclaim ownership of our couple space, we can't wait to proudly step into our bedroom at night rather than sneak in, we can't wait to not think twice before getting up to pee at night. We can't wait for everyone to sleep (Granted we quickly transition out of staring at the monitor all night, which I have a feeling will happen)!!! And yet, we are still pondering the meaning of "ready"...Just one more night....or...week? Of course we keep telling ourselves that Lulu is the one who is not ready.

Do we give ourselves a clear deadline? We currently have a vague "within the week". The time has come!.....Any day now...

For some reason, I can imagine us still whispering under the covers, holding our coughs and sneezes and of course avoiding the "loud blanket" for a least a week following Lulu's moving out. Moving out...First time our baby moves out. I hear that you blink and then they are off to college... Ok, I'll stop now. Hormonal breastfeeding mama alert ;-)

Exhibit A: Temporary Storage Space

On Prunes and Other Friends

 

"Mmmm, prunes. What a delicacy. I'll take more!"
                  

Yours truly here, operating on no sleep. Never thought I'd be blogging about poop, but since we started solids, our Lulu hasn't managed to have a BM. Yes, it did cross my mind to just keep her exclusively on breast milk forever. Yes, I know it's ridiculous. Still, night after night this week we had to soothe a screaming baby whose system was having a hard time adjusting to sweet potatoes and avocado. Last night was the peak. Lulu could hardly stay asleep because of her backed-up stomach. At the same time, I felt like my heart was clogged by screaming needles. My body was also not the happiest camper. My spine was threatening to go on strike after picking up and putting down hundreds of times. My chest and arms turned clinically depressed for not being able to take away my baby's pain and discomfort. 

Which brings me to...I can't wait till she can speak. I want to know exactly how she feels. Exactly. I need to relieve the pain, any pain. It's a need, a sweeping, primal need. I can't control it and I don't wish to control it, but it's definitely another new thing motherhood introduced me to. I mean, I have intensely and desperately wanted to alleviate pain of loved ones before Lulu. With Lulu it's a physical need that flows through my body like an angry ocean. 

Until she can speak, I use my mama instincts, which I sharpen every day. Who knows, by the time she speaks with words, I might not even need words. I would just effortlessly read her. Don't get me wrong, I'm actually quite proud of myself for being able to read Lulu's cry- hungry, tired, overstimulated, etc. But I am still challenged when it comes to pain and discomfort. We've just completed an episode of a first cold, segueing into glamorous teething, which kept us up at night (that's the thing with Lulu. She's always in good spirits during the day, no matter what. But at night, her sleep is disrupted so easily), and now this....Stomach. New food. It actually started out so cheerfully. Sweet potato was a big hit and even avocado. We've been having so much fun making food mess. Unfortunately, it's biting us in the ass, literally!

So this morning we bought organic prunes and the perfect puree was served. Lulu adored it and refused to stop eating. Again, fun times. It's 5 PM and NOTHING. Nighttime is approaching with its big, scary steps, threatening to bestow upon us more pain and tears. Prunes, please please work!

Addendum:
At 6 PM we purchased what we heard is called Magic. Suppositories (Oh, my... Hope Lulu will forgive me for sharing the intricacies of BMs and beyond...). It's not medication, which we try to avoid. It's guaranteed to work quickly and bring Lulu her good night's sleep. We'll take it! We'll take it now! 

My built-in need to take away the pain is met within 30 minutes. 
Joy to the world. WHAT a relief!  

GOOD Night!