Everything and nothing

That's what my days look like, that's what I'm thinking about, that's how I feel.


Sofia is an easy baby.  I often joke with Drew that we should quit while we're ahead because she's so easy, which means any babies that come after her will be holy terrors.  She sleeps through the night - I'm talking 9p-5a, get up to nurse, and back to bed until 9, sometimes 10am.  It's a beautiful thing.  She naps like clockwork, at 1p for about an hour and 6:30 for another hour, and if the angels smile on me sometimes she'll take a two or three hour afternoon nap!  I did nothing to set this schedule, I take no credit.  I am no supermom.  I merely gave her what she needed.  She only has crying fits when I don't adhere to the schedule and try to keep her up past one or don't lay her down at 6:30.  As long as I stay in line, she's happy.

I resisted the urge to go into the nursery right now and snap a picture

of her napping so this one is from last month, one of the first

times she took a nap in the crib.

The mobile is a lifesaver - I got it for her when she started making real eye contact with me.  She'll get hypnotized by it, giving me precious time to go to the bathroom in peace, or change my clothes or brush my teeth.  My favorite thing about it is the remote control, so when it stops I don't have to go all the way into her room to turn it back on.  I was so amazed at how well it worked I nicknamed it Jesus.

Every morning Sofia, Maya and I go for our walk around the neighborhood.  Maya and I get our exercise to keep us from being insane.  I keep looking for my abs on our walks, but I haven't found them yet.  However, pushing the stroller up the hills is helping me to find my butt and thighs so at least there's that.  I even saw a couple of ladies from the playgroup and we stopped and chatted!  That felt so good - I felt like I had a seat in cafeteria!

Yeah, I'm a mom, I have mom friends, no big deal.  I'm cool, I'm breezy, I'm not a dork at all.

And then something happens that reminds me.  Things aren't always what they seem.

On our walk this morning I was wearing a tank top and had my hair in a bun.  I was also wearing yoga pants - surprise surprise.  The playgroup ladies had come up behind me so naturally, after a bit of small talk one of them asked me about my tattoo.  I was caught off guard - most of the time you can't see it and it has such personal meaning for me I rarely know how to explain it.  Well, being Smooth Move Sally that I am, I word vomited as usual and ended up telling them that I'd had a couple of losses (I was so flustered I didn't even get the number right, making me feel even guiltier.)  Thankfully, it didn't completely halt the conversation but there was an awkward pause.

It got me thinking.  About my lack of thinking.  About the other babies, that is.

Sofia consumes my every waking moment.  I miss her while she sleeps.  I live around her schedule, eating and sleeping in between mothering her.  But let's face it - walking the dog, naps, feeding - it's not exciting stuff.  It's easy to say 'nothing' when someone asks what I've done all day.  But it's my everything just the same.  It's my whole life.

Between my mothering moments, I thought of them.  The other babies.  And I wonder if they know that even though my everything is consumed with Sofia, I wonder if they know they're not nothing.  They were real to me, all of them.  I miss them all and I hold them in my heart just as surely as I hold Sofia in my arms.

But I have to admit, since she was born, the memory of them has faded.  The pain isn't quite so acute because honestly, there's so much joy when I look at Sofia.  One time she smiled at me and I thought I would start crying because I was so happy.  It's hard to be anything but ecstatic when one of my silly faces or weird noises gets a big gummy smile from her.

Yet, when she asked about my tattoo I thought of them all over again.  About that time in my life, that's so far removed from my present, but I feel the pang just the same.  I found myself wondering if they know.  If they know they're not nothing.  That even though I have my everything, they're not nothing.

I know things are as they're supposed to be and all mourning must come to a close, otherwise how would any of us ever go on? 

But they know, right?  They know they're not nothing, right?  That even though my days and nights are filled with Sofia, they're still important and will always have that place in my heart?

It was an innocent question on a random day.  I didn't descend into a pit of sorrow and soon the memory will fade.  But for a moment, in the midst of my everything and nothing, I thought of them.