Dear Delilah...

Dear Delilah,

You are now seven and a half months old! How did that happen?!?!? You really aren’t so much a “baby” anymore. You seem more and more like a “kid” every time I look at you. You have started crawling in the last week and you are all over the place and into everything! I swear you have the ability to move faster than the speed of light and can have a cat toy in your mouth in 2 seconds flat. Weasely and Professor Chaos don’t mind sharing though.  Of course you put Weasely and Professor Chaos in your mouth too. I really try to keep you away from them, but honestly, they don’t seem to mind.

You babble all the time, and your favorite thing to say is “Dadadadada”, which causes me so much frustration. I swear you will say “transcendentalism” before you say “Mama”.  You are working on blowing raspberries with your mouth too, but right now is just comes out like a drooly “Booooo”.

You eat like a lumberjack now. I have yet to put a food in front of you that you haven’t thought was the greatest thing in the world. I can’t even begin to guess what your favorite is. I think you like peaches the best, but who doesn’t like peaches?

You almost crawl out of your bed in mom and dad’s room now too, so I think we are going to have to move you down to your crib at night. I have no doubt that you are more than ready, but I am not. I don’t know how I will be able to handle being that far away from you. You had your first sleepover at Nana’s last Sunday night and it was so hard for me to be without you. I kept waking up in the night to check on you, like I always do, and you weren’t there, which made me panic.

I love you more than Christmas and Twizzlers,

Mom

I'm Back, Hopefully...

It may seem like I disappeared, again. I didn’t, I’ve been here all along thinking that I should be posting something. I’d be lying if I said everything was great. I feel like it should be. I finally have everything I have ever wanted and I got most of it before I turned 30.

I have spent the past few months dealing with the fall out of Post Partum Depression. It seems like if you go through years of fertility treatment, make it through a dangerous pregnancy, a horrible birth and still end up with an amazing new person in your life, then you should be OK after that. Like you paid your dues and now you can go back to living your life like you planned before infertility reared it’s ugly head.

When I say Post Partum Depression, I don’t mean I got the “Baby Blues”, I mean my husband dragged me to the Emergency Room because he found me curled up on the floor at work after I told him to take all of the guns out of the house.

I started a new Anti-Depressant, and started going to counseling on Fridays. And I do feel better, not 100%, but better.

I hated that Delilah’s first year will be tainted by me wanting to walk into traffic.  And I am terrified that someday she will find out and think this was her fault. That she made me crazy, or that I didn’t love her, or want her. I am so amazed by her every day; because every day she does something new and I love her even more. Just last night I found her sitting up in her co-sleeper, meaning she sat up on her own for the first time. Of course, at the time I was just scared that she was going to fling herself out onto the floor.