Dear Max and Rebecca
Another new mom recently asked me on Facebook how I was doing, and I prefaced the answer with: “This sounds so cliched, but….”
The reason why it sounded so cliched at the same is because what I was feeling (and still am) could be found on a Hallmark greeting card or a typical Facebook or Instagram caption. Here’s what I said: I said my heart is full, and that my life feels very complete with another child. Nothing was lacking before, but I feel like my life is brimming.
Things this time round are so much more relaxed – I’m not a slave to a routine and subsequently panicked when things don’t go according to plan, I’m probably in a better emotional space, and I realise that there is still breathing and living space, even with a new baby.
I am truly fortunate to have a chilled baby, much like you were, Max. Both of you seem to know things about life way beyond your years, and I’ve always said this about you Max, and I feel it about your sister too, that I feel like you’re both here to teach me more than I can teach you. You both seem to have these wise and gentle old souls, and I feel like I’ve been gifted with two remarkable beings.
I’m feeling more or less normal. I’m pretty rested, and my hardest “work” probably comes from expressing milk twice a day. I’m doing some work, going out a bit, and exercising minimally (running up to 4km a few times a week, very slowly). I’ve got a crazy idea to run a half marathon next weekend, and I consider myself stubborn and determined enough to do it with no training, insufficient fitness, and a post-preggy belly that virtually hangs over my running shorts.
I have every Chanukah and Christmas present wrapped and ready (the need to get things done early is a good “problem”, right?), and I can almost taste the Chardonnay while overlooking the water during our December holiday, which is round’ish the corner. Max, you keep on telling me how excited you are for the holidays, and you stress it’s not about the presents, but about boat rides, fishing and family.
An update on my “I’m unhappy with my body” post from last week, well, I’m trying to calm down with what I put in. I’m seeing my dietitian in a few days’ time, and I’m feeling quite determined. I write that I wouldn’t weigh myself every day, but I’m totally weighing myself every day. It’s the worst. I don’t think I’ve lost a gram, which is pretty blergh.
That’s it for now, kids. Thank you for being the light in my life, and thanks Rebecca for a relatively smooth eight weeks.
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