happy 5 months virginia!

yesterday was ginny's 5 month birthday. shocking! it was a big day for all of us. we officially switched over to cloth diapers (an overwhelming experience.) the tiny, shiny crystals left on her bum from disposables really disturbed me (more on this later.) and ginny began to eat rice cereal like a pro. we are also 3 weeks into the torturous head band (only 5 more to go!... hopefully.) I miss seeing and kissing her little head.

auntie jen was here for a visit. it was great! we shopped, drank wine, took walks, drank wine, shopped a little more, and... drank a little more wine. one of the highlights(?) of her stay was being sucked into the sick, sick world of the duggar family. what a bunch of fucking freaks! (excuse my language.) geez. the wedding of the son was bizarre. and that mother! we figured she has spent her entire adult life pregnant. what do you think her uterus looks like? so if each of her 18 kids has 18 children each, we're talking 324 grandchildren -- 3 times the size of my high school graduating class! these people must be stopped!

how is it possible?

to be so happy and yet so sad.

3 little letters. PPD.

yep. postpartum depression. it's hard to utter those words. it's no good.

I remember my very first acupuncture session, post surgery in early 2007. I was gearing up for IVF #1. A and I spent almost 3 hours together chatting away. we obviously discussed my health, my diet, my lifestyle. but we talked a lot about my relationship with b and what I wanted from my life. it was almost more therapy than needles and new age instrumentals. so what did I want in my life? a baby with b. a baby we'd name virginia.

I got exactly what I wished for and I feel so incredibly lucky and blessed. granted it was a draining and emotional rollercoaster for almost 2 years and we've exhausted our savings, but my glorious dream came true. a dream that required total dedication on so many levels and almost 400 injections. but she is so worth it and I wouldn't change a thing.

so what's the deal? why am I not on cloud 9? but I am! that's what's so tragic. I am over the moon thrilled don't get me wrong. but it's this sadness that constantly creeps into my daily routine. the tears at a drop of a hat. the fear. the irrational fears that are paralyzing at times. like I said, it's no good.

the irrational thoughts are... quite frankly, irrational. do I dare confess? I have moments when I get overwhelmed and panicky at the thought of driving on route 95. I'm afraid I'm going to get sick. cancer runs rampant in my family and I fear it's only a matter of time. the thought of putting ginny through what I went through with my mother's illness terrifies me. the thought of leaving her terrifies me even more. I get teary constantly. tears sometimes for no obvious or logical reason. I've said this before, it is so much easier to be sad and unhappy. it's when you feel good and at peace, that's when shit happens. my life at the moment is about waiting for the other shoe to drop. that's a horrible way to exist. I'm conscious of this and we're working on it.

so I'm back on my meds. the same drugs I took when this whole IF fiasco started. the same meds that I took after my mom passed away when I couldn't get out of bed in the morning. we're pretty confident that they'll make a difference with PPD -- something that I've been denying and battling now for a few months. I hope to be feeling better, more "even keeled," very soon. it's an amazing time right now with ginny who's growing like a little weed. we are having so many firsts these days. I refuse to look back on this time and recall a lot of gloom. fuck that. it's time to rid myself of unhealthy thoughts and feeling scared. it's time to thoroughly enjoy my dream.

there. I said it.

"I'm ok. I'm just reshaping."

she's not so happy, our little sensitive one. ginny is very much aware of the head band. I don't care what people say, she definitely knows it's there sitting tight and hard on her tiny head. we have a game that we play whenever we're on the couch. these days it is a very different experience.

"one, two... THREEEEEEE" and I lift her high above my head so she can see her drooly reflection in the mirror. I used to (past tense) get huge smiles and giggles. NOW all I get is a blank expression. how sad is THAT?!

"ohhhh. how cute. how old is she?" a typical comment on a typical trip to walgreens. NOW all I get is a quick glance into the infant seat and then they're gone. the general public is terrified of the head band. TERRIFIED I tell you! ginny has gone from being rather popular and adored to being completely neglected and ignored. "it's not contagious people!"

so when someone says that this is harder on me than it is on her I beg to differ. it's a nice thought but it's not true. the head band has no give whatsoever and constantly pulls on her wispy locks. it's a sweaty mess when I take it off for that one precious hour each night. the sharp point in the front was bruising her left eyelid when she slept (it has since been filed down.) it's bulky and gets in the way when we cuddle. it just plain sucks.

so please, my fair readers, do me a favor. if you come across a wee one in your travels sporting a similar head band (aka dynamic orthotic cranioplasty for plagiocephaly -- say that 10 times fast!) please give him/her a nice, big, heartfelt "hello there! you look very cute today."

"lulu doggie ruff ruff"

ok. what do you think?

thanks auntie laura!

our very brave little girl

she hates it.

I hate it.

this sucks!

today's the day.

the dreaded day. we pick up the helmet.

this sweet, chubby, drooly face. she has no idea what's coming -- poor thing. she had her 4 month shots on monday and has been in a state ever since -- fever, loss of appetite, serious crankiness. I've been in a state myself. I nearly pummeled the plumber yesterday who came to investigate the mysterious source of our christmas morning flood in the basement (2 inches of water in some spots.) of course the water is long gone now thanks a wet vacuum. "there's no leak. it's dry down here." he tells me in. dumbass. he's lucky he got out of my basement alive.

what a shitty week.

(but take note of those awesome neck muscles! good job little girl!)

life with an biracial baby

shaws supermarket. monday 5 jan 09. 4:20 pm.

"Is that your grandbaby?"

huh? "what?... ummm... no. she's mine."

I REALLY feel like vomiting. shit, I know I'm old.

"ohhhhh. you adopted!"

(((gulp))) "no. I had her myself."

long awkward silence.

"but she looks like. looks to be... "

"asian?"

"yeah!"

"my husband is korean."

"oh. paper or plastic?"

"neither. I brought my own bags"