Mommies

Yesterday was hard. Avi only took one wee nap when I took him for a 30 minute walk; he didn't sleep all day. By 5pm, he was so exhausted, and so was I. All he wanted to do was nurse. I felt raw and enormously hungry. It's amazing how different I felt, too. I felt fat, like I had no clothing to wear, and that my hair was all wrong. I felt helpless trying to get Avi to sleep. So I decided I needed to go to yoga. Leeor took over and I left. I was so sad to leave my baby! Leeor wanted some tips. "Swaddle him, shhhh him, walk around, give him your finger." I knew it would be good for them to have some time together. And there was frozen breast milk if needed.

I was terribly distracted in the yoga class. I noticed all the young, hip Mission yogis and longed suddenly for the mommy & me class (not that those ladies were any less hip --they just knew what it felt like to have milk-full breasts and a loose pelvic floor). I usually love chanting; but it seemed silly to me. All I could think of was Avi. I actually left class at one point to text Leeor. He texted back a beautiful photo of Avi asleep. That helped a little. Still, I snuck out during savasana (motherhood has made me rebellious; I was also late for class) and raced home. And talked to Eunice, my good friend from work who has an 18 month old boy, Sebastian. She was so reassuring! She commended me for going to yoga, and told me that her son, at six weeks, also wouldn't sleep during the day unless she took him out. She wondered if Avi's having another growth spurt. It was so helpful to talk to a fellow mommy.

When I arrived home, Leeor was sitting on the couch, in the dark, with Avi. "I couldn't move," he said. "I'm starving," he said. I smiled, kissed them both, and made us breakfast for dinner. Then we gave Avi a bath--our favorite family activity. Avi and I in the tub, nursing, while Leeor soaps him up, then clothes him while I have a few moments to bathe. Avi and I fell into a blissful sleep after that. Maybe I'll give the mommy & me class another try . . .