Do you want to know the scary thing about that though? When I mentioned to the nurse that we were just there for the shots she didn’t get at her two month appointment, she says “OK, so we are doing all 5 of them then?”

I was a little horrified. Clearly she hadn’t even bothered to look at Cheeks chart to see what she received at two months. It’s not possible that would have gone all the way though, right? I mean, she wouldn’t have actually given my daughter shots without first checking her chart to verify what she had already received, would she have? There is no way Cheeks could have wound up with the same shots twice, right?

I am totally looking for someone to reassure me here.

Needless to say, it didn’t go that far. Because I quickly explained to the nurse that we were doing an extended schedule, and that Cheeks had received some shots at her 2 month appointment – we were just there for 2 more.

I still had to pull out the book and show her which ones. Which again, is concerning.

But in the end, Cheeks got two more vaccinations. One in each leg.

This was her before:

Doing that cool new trick she has discovered in the last few days where she sucks on her own fist – I swear, she has had fingers in her mouth ever since!

And then, this was her after:

Poor bug. One shot to each thigh did not go over well with her. Thankfully, she wound up passing out almost immediately against my chest. And because I hated the idea of waking her up to put her in the car seat, on top of being asked to remain on grounds for 15 minutes in case there was a reaction (seriously – that doesn’t scare anyone?), she and I just snuggled up in the waiting room while she napped for the next 30 minutes. When she woke up, I fed her a bottle and we left – she remained a little out of it, but seemed alright otherwise.

And because we were there, she was able to be weighed as well – 13 pounds 10 ounces. My little chunker is growing fast!

For the rest of the afternoon she remained cuddly and lethargic, but nothing too concerning. We grabbed dinner and headed 30 minutes north to visit friends around 6:00 last night:

But within a few minutes of us getting there – the full melt-down started. Uncontrollable crying that could not be silenced, no matter what I tried. My girl does not cry like this, ever, so my heart was aching as I attempted to soothe her. Let me repeat that – she has never, in her entire life, screamed in such a way that even a bottle could not calm her. This was a first, and I hated it. She obviously was not feeling well, to the extreme, and I felt helpless in fixing that. Plus, our poor friends were basically getting their nights ruined as well – not that they minded, it was just sad. Sad all the way around. If anything though, it did solidify for me how right doing an extended schedule is for our family. I hate to think how much worse she would have been if we had done the full vaccine round at once.

In the end, she wound up whimpering against my chest – still awake, but no longer crying. She stayed like that for a long while, showing no interest in anything else, just wanting to be snuggled up against me.

Heartbreaking.

By the time she finally fell asleep, we had already decided to stay there. Partially because of what a wreck she was (I hated the idea of putting her in a carseat and driving 30 minutes back with her like that) and partially because of this:

Yeah, you’re seeing that right. The latest snowfall on record. Leaving me to say… About that whole Alaska being home thing? Yeah, I might be reconsidering.

Just kidding of course, but seriously? Memorial Day is next weekend. It is supposed to be summer. This is insane. Tomorrow is actually that triathlon I did last year. All those women are supposed to swim and bike and run, and – I am suddenly so glad to not be one of them! I wouldn’t be shocked if it winds up being canceled for safety issues, after all – the event organizers have never had to deal with this before. But seriously? There is nothing cool about a May 17th snowstorm.

Or a baby, sick and sad after her shots.

Thankfully, she seems to be back to her old self today.

And we have another month before the next round of needles.

Hopefully another 6 months before the next snow.

A girl can dream anyway…

Back to Arizona.

Near my family.

I’ve actually been receiving the same question from a lot of different people since Cheeks came into my world.

It seems the assumption is that now that I am a mom, my desire to be closer to “home” will increase.

Here’s the thing though… Arizona isn’t home. It hasn’t been in almost 10 years. And while I love my family deeply, we have family here too.

They may not be people we share blood with, but then again – Cheeks and I don’t share blood either.

Family isn’t just about blood.

And Arizona, will never be my home again.

No offense against Arizona, but… I always hated it there. The heat, and the cacti, and the lack of water or trees or any kind of nature I would actually want to be a part of… I hated it. The snakes, and the scorpions, and the spiders… I would take my bears and moose over that any day. The traffic and the over-crowding and the guys who wear pink… no thank you. I would never be as happy in Arizona as I am in Alaska. I love my seasons, and my mountains. I love that there is a creek and a lake just outside my front door. The smell of simply stepping outside.

I love Alaska. And while prior to Cheeks I had thought on occasion about possibly moving somewhere closer to Arizona (not Arizona mind you, but somewhere like Portland where I could have the best of both worlds – everything I love about Alaska, while being just one plane trip away from family), adopting Cheeks has changed even that.

Alaska is home now. For good. Not just because of how I feel about it, but because of what Alaska means to my daughter. This is where her heritage is. Her culture. Her other family. I couldn’t take her away from that without a really good reason. And while I told Angel during our initial meetings that I didn’t want to make any promises, because who knows what the future holds, the reality is – I would be really hard pressed to ever leave Alaska now. I’m not willing to say never, because again – who knows what the future holds – but, I don’t foresee ever calling anyplace but Alaska home.

And I don’t have any sad feelings about that either. Do I wish I could be closer, to my dad and grandma and the rest of my family? Yes, absolutely. Some day, perhaps even some day soon, my brother and sister-in-law will have babies, and I know being so far away from that (and them) is going to be difficult. But still… this is home. And we have family here. Family that would be just as difficult to be away from.

Just yesterday, we were able to spend our afternoon with two of Cheeks favorite aunties, and one of the many playmates she is going to be so blessed to grow up with:

And then last night, that special girl I have known for almost 5 years now came over to spend time with us and get some help with her final paper for school:

Not that she actually needed the help. What she had written before she ever came over was totally ‘A’ material (yeah, I’m proud like that!)

Tonight we are heading to another friends house, to spend time with another auntie and uncle and playmate.

And all week I have been talking to Angel about any number of things.

Our lives are full.

And our family is here.

Even if we have other family 3,500 miles away as well.

It will never be easy.

There will always be people we will wish we could be closer to.

But Alaska is home.

And no matter how else my circumstances may change from here, I can’t see that changing.

We are exactly where we are meant to be…

And all of that far-away family of ours is just going to have to get a whole lot better about getting on planes to see us, as often as we get on planes to see them.

The naps have me concerned, mostly because as the day goes on – she becomes more and more groggy. She is clearly tired, entering the realm of cranky, but still – waking up after short naps without fail. I attempt to soothe her back to sleep, and sometimes it works, but usually… that involves bringing her out of her crib and letting her sleep either on me or in her swing. Something I try to avoid because I don’t want it to become a habit. But I usually wind up caving at least once a day in favor of her having a good nap.

I *think* part of the problem is her crib, and possibly even her room. If I put her down at night in the bassinet in my room – she sleeps for 11-12 hours straight and barely makes a peep all night. On the other hand, in her crib, she spends the night thrashing and moving around, waking up now like clock-work at 5:30am.

To recap – in my room, we get to sleep until 9:30. In hers, 5:30. Which is a bummer.

She clearly prefers the bassinet, likely because it is cozy and snug while her crib is a wide open space. But the problem is she is about a month away from outgrowing that thing, and then what? I don’t think that is the full problem either. I’ve noticed the light starts sneaking in through the corners of her blinds around the same time she starts squirming in that room. I’ve also noticed that her room is perhaps the loudest, with upstairs neighbors and the communal staircase right outside her window. My guess is that the combination of those tiny shreds of light and people getting up for the day is waking her, but… how to combat that? I’ve already got a sound machine going in there, and us switching rooms just isn’t an option. But I do wish I could get her sleeping as well in her crib as she does in my room. I just don’t know how…

I know that for most parents, 7-8 hours at 3 months old is still pretty awesome and I have no room for complaining. But I also know she is capable of sleeping even more soundly than that, which has me wishing she would no matter where she is sleeping. It’s just one of those quirks I want to figure out I guess. Along with how this kid has been breaking out of swaddles since she was born:

Yet has no interest in sleeping unless she is tightly wrapped. How exactly am I supposed to compete with that? And when do I just stop swaddling all together? And how do you do that in a way that doesn’t result in a complete sleep backslide?

These are the questions currently plaguing my mind. Along with a few about pacifiers, and when to cut that whole gig off before she gets too attached.

I am a big believer in the importance of sleep, and I just want to make sure this kid is getting the deep sleep she needs. Some of these little sleep quirks have me wondering if she is really sleeping as well as she could be.

And if she isn’t… how do I get her comfortable and happy enough so that she is?

Just for half a day. Five hours away from my little love, who was being entertained and adored by her auntie hockey-wife. It was hard getting us both up and ready for the morning, harder still to bring her to someone else before walking away. By the time I got to the office, I was running 30 minutes late. I almost felt guilty, except… my fatal flaw has always been a failure to get anywhere on time in the mornings. Cheeks only increases that fatal flaw. For almost 5 years though, I have run late to work every morning. Not a fact I am proud of mind you – just a fact. So it probably would have been weird if I had been on time for this, my first day back after 3 months off.

Especially because, leaving my bug for the longest I have been away from her since she was born, was not something I was looking forward to.

Of course, it wasn’t as hard as it could have been either. My dear friend sent me the cutest pictures and updates of my sweet girl throughout the day:

And those of you following on Facebook know… I had reason to believe this whole returning to the office thing would only be a one-time deal.

Which made it a heck of a lot easier.

So, what exactly is going on here?

Well… I quit my job last week.

Yep. You read that right. I am officially unemployed.

Kind of.

For the record, everything about this was amicable. Beautiful even. I don’t think most of my co-workers ever expected me to come back – it just took me a while to agree there was no way it was going to happen.

But the fact of the matter is, I have quit my job.

In favor of writing for a living… and being a stay at home (work from home) mommy.

I have always known I could make a living freelance writing, but for a variety of reasons – I have never wanted to take that leap. Walking away from a 401K and good insurance and paid vacations – the kind of benefits that come with a desk job – it was a hard decision to make. But in the end, Cheeks made it a whole lot easier. Because for the first time in my life, I have a reason to really push myself that extra mile. A reason to take that leap.

I have her.

And the more I thought about returning to work, the more my heart sank. For so many reasons. I hated the idea of being away from her that long during the day. I couldn’t stand picturing someone else getting all those smiles and firsts. And I knew that if I did return to my office job, writing would have to be put on hold. Indefinitely. Because there was just no way I was going to be separated from her 8-9 hours a day, and then come home and write. It wasn’t going to happen. Which would have meant an end not only to this blog (certainly not that big a deal) but also to my pursuit of this passion.

While I would have chosen her over that passion any day of the week, I didn’t want to have to make that choice unless absolutely necessary.

Thankfully, a few different long term projects presented themselves in the last few weeks, and I am now able to confidently say I can make as much (if not more) writing for a living than I could have at my desk job.

And the bonus? Paying for private insurance (which is going to blow – but is so necessary) is actually going to be cheaper than paying for daycare would have been. At least now I have the opportunity to purchase my own private insurance. Just a few years ago, having a pre-existing condition would have kept me from that.

When I did the math, it just made sense. Going back to work would have meant giving up the additional writing income I have made for years (because again – I just was not going to be able to pull off double time anymore). It also would have meant spending upwards of $1000 a month on daycare, because I couldn’t rely on my friends to watch her forever. I was going to be out a lot of money, without any additional opportunities to make more. With writing though, I might have a chance to start making enough extra to even pay down some of those old debts.

So there it is.

I am anticipating the point, likely sooner than later, when I will need to hire someone to come spend time with Cheeks a few hours a day while I work. I’m thinking a high school or college student, no more than 15 hours a week. The rest I can do while she sleeps – as I have been doing the last few weeks now. It is hard, but we are getting into a routine. And the beautiful thing is that I am here, with my daughter, every day. I am the one she is smiling and cooing at. The one who gets to play with her. The one holding her in my lap as I type.

I am a writer.

And a mommy.

Just like that, two of my biggest dreams have come true.

Who ever would have guessed?

I am working with a close friend (the brilliant mind behind Paige Hewlett Media) to create a freelance website for future jobs, but in the meantime – I will be offering services in content writing, ghost writing, and developmental editing. If you have a need or interest in any of those, feel free to contact me at singleinfertilefemale@yahoo.com.

And keep an eye out for my name and byline in the weeks and months to come – I am excited to report you will be seeing a lot more of my work.

Excited to report that I am a writer. A real writer. One who now does this, for a living.

The best of both worlds. Pursuing my bliss, and watching my girl grow up first hand. I could not have asked for a better outcome.

A better life.

Of course, it means hustling too. I feel confident in the money I am going to be able to make over the next few months, but I am always going to have to be pursuing new jobs. And unlike desk jobs, where you are paid a salary regardless of how hard you are actually working, I will be busting my butt for every cent I earn.

Making a name for myself, and fighting my way to the top.

I believe in my ability to do this though. Especially now, when I have the most important person in the world relying on me to provide for us both.

I have no intention of letting her down.

And so yesterday, I went into work for one final day. To clear out my files, hand off old projects, and leave my former place of business on happy terms. After almost 5 years of service, it was bittersweet to say goodbye. Especially to the company that brought my daughter to me. But everyone was amazing. Kind, supportive, and excited for me. They even threw a little going away party, complete with pie.

And after a few hours, I turned in my keys and credit card and I walked out that door for the last time as an employee.

Going to pick up my daughter knowing that I am now… unemployed.

Or rather, self-employed. Also in the process of setting myself up as a business, and everything that goes along with that.

The next few months are going to be hectic, scary and exhilarating as I establish myself in this new line of work, all while raising a baby as a single mom. But I am excited and looking forward to the new challenges and opportunities awaiting me.

Ready to see where this new adventure leads.

I am a writer.

And a mother.

With a life that has become more beautiful than I ever dreamed possible.

Haven’t bought the book yet? Now’s the time! Or did you miss the memo? I’m officially a struggling writer in need of your full support - make it happen.

Of course, by the time it got to the final edit, it was more a story about Cheeks. I can’t exactly blame them for meeting her and completely changing the angle of their story though. I mean, she is pretty darn perfect.

Still, it was nice seeing the book getting a little extra media plug as well, and overall I think the story turned out great – what do you think? You can check the story out on their website here.

I will say, I learned a long time ago that you can never get everything you want said to actually make it on air. And there will always be details that come out a little garbled. So I figured I would use today to highlight some of the other things I talked about that clearly never made it past the cutting room floor. Let’s consider these the details I would have liked to seen portrayed, if I had my own hour…

1. Garrett, the reporter, touched on the fact that the book does not have a happy ending. What they didn’t air though, is my explanation of why it doesn’t have a happy ending. It was actually incredibly important to me to tell the story exactly as it is. I wanted it to have a hopeful ending, but not necessarily a happy one. Had I chosen to, I could have halted everything and added the pieces about Cheeks to the end of my book. It would have meant pushing the publish date, and really re-working a lot of it, but… I could have done it. The fact of the matter is though, I didn’t want to. Because adding the pieces about her tells a story different from the one I set out to tell in the first place. As I explained to Garrett, there are a lot of books about infertility out there. In my experience though, they all either end with a miracle baby, or a whole lot of bitterness. It perpetuates this myth in our society – that if you keep trying, you will get pregnant in the end. The fact of the matter is, people who don’t struggle with infertility are never going to read those bitter stories (truthfully, even I as an infertile woman don’t have a whole lot of interest in going there), so their entire exposure to infertility is clouded in that myth. The one that says everyone who faces infertility will eventually get their baby, if they just relax and let go. You and I know that isn’t always the case though. In fact, there is a large percentage of infertile couples who try and fail for years, never getting the outcome they have worked so hard for. I wanted to tell their story. From the very beginning, I wanted to write a book about infertility that didn’t end with a baby, but didn’t end with an alienating bitterness either. I wanted to tell my story. That of a woman who had her dreams ripped out from under her and had to experience the trainwreck of emotions and bad decisions that comes in the wake of something like that. I wanted to tell a story of infertility that ended with rebuilding; restructuring the dream and moving forward with hope, even in knowing it will never look exactly as originally pictured. Because that is reality. And yes, in the end – I got my happy ending. This miracle happy ending that no one ever could have imagined. But even that is not reality. Adoptions are never this easy. People wait for years and spend up to $40,000 for a healthy infant. Minds are changed, placements fall through, and hearts are broken. What has happened here, with me and Cheeks and Angel, is nothing short of a miracle. I understand the interest in that story, because… it is almost too good to be true. I say “almost”, only because it is true. But… this isn’t reality. It isn’t the norm. It isn’t what every woman and couple facing infertility should expect to get. And… it isn’t the story I set out to write when I decided to write this book. Anyone who wishes I had added those pieces, is looking for something that hides the truth of infertility. The truth of life. They are looking to stick their heads in the sand and pretend that no other possibilities exist. The reality is though, sometimes you don’t get that happy ending. Even if you really deserve it, and even if you fight tooth and nail for it. Some women and couples will never make it to that finish line. And they will have to figure out how to re-frame their lives now, knowing what they have lost. The whole point of this book was to show how I set out to do just that, in all my clumsy and painful glory. Because that was the reality – it is the reality – not just for me, but for so many others out there like me. I wanted to tell a story that didn’t have that happy ending, but that still left off with the promise of hope for the future. Even in knowing the future may look nothing like what had originally been planned. If I had my own hour, I would have explained that…
2. The other thing I went into detail about that never made it on air, was the lack of options for women facing infertility in Alaska. There are zero fertility clinics located in this state. We have one doctor practicing IVF who is not actually board certified (or something like that… all I know is that he is not a recognized RE), and then we have an RE working up here who is not authorized to perform IVF procedures because she works out of a Catholic hospital (again, my details could be fuzzy there – I know she is here, and that she can’t perform IVF because of some hospital rules). Either way, the point is – we are lacking options in this great state of mine. Which is why I had to travel to Seattle for my IVF procedures (where I was treated like cattle on a baby making conveyor belt), why my friend Linds went to Vegas (where she saw Dr. Sher – the doctor I would have gone to if I could do it all again), and my friend Dee went to Arizona. These are our options up here in Alaska. To spend an extra couple thousand dollars on travel and hotel costs just to try. Alaska is a big state, and if you buy into the statistics of 1 and 8 women/couples facing infertility (I personally think there are many more) that means there are a pretty large number of people up here who could benefit from a fertility clinic. But nope – nothing. We are completely lacking in specialty treatment options. And if I had my own hour, I would have talked more about why that needs to change.
3. Finally, obviously, I spent a lot more time talking about endometriosis and infertility in general. I discussed what this disease did to my life, and how Dr. Cook of Vital Health Institute helped to give me that life back. I touched on the women all across the world who are suffering, in pain and losing their chance at the one thing they have ever wanted. I explained that my situation is not all that unique – women my age and younger lose their ability to conceive every day. I am not special. The only thing I really have to offer is my voice. And if I had my own hour… I would have spent a lot more time talking about the millions of other stories out there.

Maybe someday, I’ll get that hour. Perhaps the book will take off, and someone will invite me to come sit in their studio and talk about it all. In the meantime, I am grateful for the few minutes I was granted. Hopeful for the people it may have reached. And thankful for the opportunities it may provide for them to find my book, and this space, as they begin learning more.

Until the day I get my own hour that is…

Almost like I had a full 9 months to prepare or something.

So because I am so proud of how everything turned out, I figured I would share some pictures of our happily ever after.

Starting with the most perfect little girl doing tummy time in her favorite spot:

She has definitely become a bit vain since discover her image in the mirror, which makes that little corner the absolute best place to put her for playtime.

It’s pretty much the only place to put her for playtime, since all her favorite playtime accessories are housed there as well:

The other big change in our living room was getting rid of the tall glass and iron kitchen table I used to own (not baby safe at all) and replacing it with this:

I absolutely love these storage cubes. They look great, provide a whole lot of extra storage (which I need, living in a 780 sf condo), and are also the perfect location for her little changing station. Probably the best new baby change I have made.

Then comes her nursery, which is now my favorite room in the house:

Some of you will remember I held a contest on Facebook a few months ago looking for the right bedding. While I received a ton of great suggestions, I wound up not using any of them. Instead, once I had the walls finished, I realized that the original bedding I had purchased actually worked just fine.

And with the big bed I decided to keep in the same room for when my family visits, I just went with something really simple that could blend in:

After all the stress I went through putting that glider together, it is definitely my favorite spot to sit with Cheeks and read at night. It was a pain in my butt to assemble, but is hands down one of the most comfortable gliders I have ever sat it.

And did you catch that wall decal?

Another total pain in my butt (seriously, do not allow anyone to ever tell you that putting up literary wall decals is easy – especially with a little one vying for your attention) but I just adore how it turned out. Despite some of it’s creepier overtones (because really, from the teenage years on, there is no excuse for sneaking into a child’s room and crawling into their bed) Love You Forever is still one of my all-time favorite children’s books. And it is the one book I have read to Cheeks that she actually falls right asleep during… I’m convinced it’s because the words “rocked back and forth, back and forth, back and forth” are so soothing while we are actually rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Either way, this saying:

I’ll love you forever,

I’ll like you for always.

As long as I’m living,

My baby you’ll be.

Feels like the perfect sentiment to get across to my little girl right there on her nursery wall.

Then, of course, there is her little closet – overflowing with some of the cutest hand-me-downs a girl could ask for:

In my room we have a co-sleeper set up:

And a Moses Basket:

Which some of you will remember is the hand-me-down that had me totally weeping. I am happy to report, it has absolutely lived up to its hype – that is the one place where Cheeks sleeps the most soundly. And it is so easy to pack up and transport when we spend the night somewhere other than our house. Making it easy for her to continue sleeping like a dream at the lake or anywhere else.

Unfortunately, she is quickly outgrowing it, and probably won’t still be able to sleep in it in a month. So thankfully, she is taking to her crib quite nicely as well.

The other thing I love in my bedroom is this:

A good friend of my dads who I have known since childhood made it and I just adore it

My kitchen has been taken over by bottles:

And my laundry area makes it clear that I have already become a hoarder in terms of preparing for the day when I will be able to make Cheeks baby food myself.

Last but not least, is Cheeks bathroom. My place may be small, but with 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms – it is just the right size for us both to have our own space. Which is perfect. Because I don’t think I would be wanting to maneuver around this for my own showers:

I got those little tub decals because at the time, I was still bathing with her, and it made me nervous to get in and out of the tub with her in my arms. But now I just think they are adorable, and can’t wait until she is old enough to recognize them herself!

And of course, the pièce de résistance, Cheeks very own after bath time robe:

I swear it doesn’t get any cuter than seeing her in that!

Maybe a reminder of what this day used to mean.

Half way through the first post, I was sobbing. For so many reasons. The ache I used to feel. The fear that I would never be a mother. The hurt. The sadness. The grief. And even the shame, over one post in particular where I expressed a feeling of being less than, because all I would ever have the opportunity to be was an adoptive mother.

Not a “natural-born” mother.

Feeling slighted because that just did not seem like enough.

Oh if I could talk to that girl I was then, and tell her how it would all turn out. If I could shake her at her core and explain what adoption would one day mean to her.

Of course I cannot, and even if I could… that girl was not ready to hear any of it. But still, the ache remains over remembering her hurt, and wishing she could just see…

So here is the part where I tell you, as someone who has been on the other side: Today is just another day. A Hallmark day meant to get you spending money and feeling shitty. As a mother now, I can promise you – it is just another day. And maybe it is different for me, because Cheeks is too young to acknowledge this day, and there is no husband here to shower me with affection for her, but – I don’t really think I would want it any other way. And I mean that. I just don’t see myself ever wanting to make a big deal out of this day, knowing how many times it stung me in the past.

It’s just another day. And while I am beyond grateful to be a mother, even in the depths of the night holding a sad and sneezy girl against my chest, today doesn’t hold any magic. So even though I know it is often impossible to control, please don’t let the greeting card industry convince you to feel less than on this random day in May. Because you aren’t less than. And whether you have achieved that goal of motherhood yet or not, today is still just another day.

I promise.

I swear.

And I’m sorry.

Because I know no matter how many times I say it, it doesn’t really help.

 (Courtesy of masterpiece-beth.com) 

It still stings, this day on the calender set aside to celebrate the one thing you wish desperately to be.

The only other thing I can think to say, is that once upon a time – I declared it as not my day as well. And now here we are, with an outcome no one ever could have predicted or expected. Because suddenly, I am a mother. Something that just 3 months ago, I feared I would never be.

Life can change in the blink of an eye. And after years of heartbreak and sadness, you can wake up to find yourself unbelievably blessed. So even if today is not your day this year, it just might be next.

I hope it is.

And that the point comes when you too realize, it’s just another day.

Have you heard – the book is here! Get your copy today!

TWELVE HOURS.

Not even 3 months old yet, and my chunky monkey is a sleep champion.

Now we just have to work on me sleeping through the night as well…

Of course, her nap times leave something to be desired (she has been pulling this fun trick the last few weeks where she only naps for 30 minutes at a time), but at night… she is awesome!

Unfortunately, she also has her first cold. Sneezing, snotty, coughing – poor bug. I have the humidifiers going, the NoseFrieda put to good use (surprisingly, not nearly as traumatic as I would have thought it would be – and kind of a life saver!) plus lots of snuggles to spare, but I would love any new mommy advice for dealing with a sick little one if you have it. She is just the sweetest little cuddle-bug, but I hate knowing she is feeling icky.

We’ve got a few exciting things going on this weekend, starting with the camera crew that will be showing up to interview me about the book. I got the call yesterday asking if I would be interested, and of course I welcomed that kind of help in getting the word out! But, I am already getting a little nervous too. As I always do when someone wants to put a camera in my face. People are mean, and television seems to bring out the meanest. I’ve worked pretty hard at thickening my skin over the last several years, and it is definitely a requirement if being a writer is something I truly want to do (because even the best books have their critics – you just can’t please everyone), but… I am nervous.

So keep happy thoughts in your heads, and hope I don’t screw this up!

And finally, with Mother’s Day weekend here, I know that there are plenty of women celebrating, while plenty more are grieving. In honor of this day that holds so many different emotions for so many different women, the book is free on Kindle today and until tomorrow evening.

This will be the last free promotion I will be doing, so make sure to take advantage! Last time we came thisclose to making it into the kindle top 100, and I would love to see it break that barrier now. So download a copy, tell your friends to download their’s, and gift copies to those who may not see this – every little bit helps, and I would love if you would use your voice to assist me in spreading the word.

After that if you find yourself adoring this book (as I am thankful to report so many others seem to have already), I would be eternally grateful if you would post an Amazon review. As someone who never does the same, I get that it may not be your first instinct – but every bit of goodness goes far to making this book a success!

It’s a marathon, not a sprint, but so far I am incredibly pleased with how this thing is doing, and very hopeful for the future. All of you have a lot to do with that, and I cannot thank you enough!

It hit me in this way that caused chills all over my body.

This way that had me wanting to listen to it over and over again, because it rang so true.

So real to life.

So on the mark to how I want to raise her. My daughter.

Because I do, have a daughter, and these are the lessons I want to teach her.

I’m going to share the words to Sarah Kay’s poem here as well, for those who simply don’t have the ability to watch a video right now. But I urge you to come back, because there is something so much more powerful about watching her perform it. Even as the words themselves are all I need to read to be reminded that… I have a daughter. And raising her, is the most important thing I am ever going to do.

“If I should have a daughter…“Instead of “Mom”, she’s gonna call me “Point B.” Because that way, she knows that no matter what happens, at least she can always find her way to me. And I’m going to paint the solar system on the back of her hands so that she has to learn the entire universe before she can say “Oh, I know that like the back of my hand.”

She’s gonna learn that this life will hit you, hard, in the face, wait for you to get back up so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry, so the first time she realizes that Wonder-woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I’ve tried.

And “Baby,” I’ll tell her “don’t keep your nose up in the air like that, I know that trick, you’re just smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house so you can find the boy who lost everything in the fire to see if you can save him. Or else, find the boy who lit the fire in the first place to see if you can change him.”

But I know that she will anyway, so instead I’ll always keep an extra supply of chocolate and rain boots nearby, ‘cause there is no heartbreak that chocolate can’t fix. Okay, there’s a few heartbreaks chocolate can’t fix. But that’s what the rain boots are for, because rain will wash away everything if you let it.

I want her to see the world through the underside of a glass bottom boat, to look through a magnifying glass at the galaxies that exist on the pin point of a human mind. Because that’s how my mom taught me. That there’ll be days like this, “There’ll be days like this my momma said” when you open your hands to catch and wind up with only blisters and bruises. When you step out of the phone booth and try to fly and the very people you wanna save are the ones standing on your cape. When your boots will fill with rain and you’ll be up to your knees in disappointment and those are the very days you have all the more reason to say “thank you,” ‘cause there is nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline no matter how many times it’s sent away.

You will put the “wind” in win some lose some, you will put the “star” in starting over and over, and no matter how many land mines erupt in a minute be sure your mind lands on the beauty of this funny place called life.

And yes, on a scale from one to over-trusting I am pretty damn naive but I want her to know that this world is made out of sugar. It can crumble so easily but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it.

“Baby,” I’ll tell her “remember your mama is a worrier but your papa is a warrior and you are the girl with small hands and big eyes who never stops asking for more.”

Remember that good things come in threes and so do bad things and always apologize when you’ve done something wrong but don’t you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.

Your voice is small but don’t ever stop singing and when they finally hand you heartbreak, slip hatred and war under your doorstep and hand you hand-outs on street corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.”
― Sarah Kay

Then again, it probably isn’t the first (and won’t be the last) time those words could be used as descriptors for me. So what the hell. Here we go!

When it comes to diapering options, my friends are split pretty evenly. I have some who embrace and love their cloth diapers, and others who wouldn’t go near that whole mess with a ten foot pole. As with most things, I have always fallen evenly in the middle of this debate. I think cloth diapers are adorable and love how earth friendly they are, but never really felt too strongly one way or another about them. I always figured I would do a bit more research and come to a decision when I was a little closer to being an actual parent.

But then… I pretty much became a parent overnight. And all this time I thought I would have for research and decisions kind of went out the door.

We should all be grateful Cheeks is a girl, because who knows what would have happened if I had been forced to confront the whole circumcision debate on the fly.

Like my hopes for one day breastfeeding though, my plans for weighing the cloth diapering options kind of became overwhelming amidst everything else I had to get in place so last minute. I did discuss the idea with her pediatrician at one of those first visits, but she quickly discouraged me against it, stating that disposables are designed to wick moisture away from a babies bum while cloth keeps it right against their skin. She explained she actually sees more rash issues in her practice from cloth diapers than she ever has from disposables, and told me that unless money was truly that much of a hindrance – I should stick with Pampers.

Not that I always blindly believe everything those in the medical community tell me. I think we all know that isn’t the case at all. But in this one instance, what she was telling me provided the excuse to avoid this one other thing I wasn’t yet feeling totally equipped to handle. And I kind of didn’t hate having that excuse.

So I had more or less decided it just wasn’t going to happen, until I received an e-mail from my cousin when Cheeks was just a few days old. She was offering to gather and send to me a few boxes of cloth diapers, as well as detailed instructions on how to use them so that I could get started.

And with generosity like that, I figured there really were no more excuses. So I gladly accepted her offer and waited anxiously for the package to arrive.

Only, when it finally showed up, just one look at all those diapers had me hyperventilating once more. There felt like there was so much to the whole thing. So much that likely would not have overwhelmed me pre-Cheeks, but with this little one now here already squirming in my arms – the prospect was anxiety inducing. I still needed to order a diaper sprayer, and a bucket, and diaper bags, and specialized diaper detergent… all more things to add to a never-ending list of to-do’s.

Not to mention, I had now seen what came out of Cheeks, and I was not totally sure I wanted any of that going anywhere near my washer.

So those diapers sat on my spare bed for over a month. Every time I wandered into the nursery, I looked at them. Contemplated them. Tried to prepare myself for them. And slowly but surely, I began to collect all the extras I would need for cloth diapering. Yet still, they remained in that box.

Until this weekend, when for some reason I got the motivation to try.

Or to at least test the waters.

You see, Cheeks typically only goes number 2 once a day. So I figured I was going to outsmart the system. I planned to wait until we had our one gross diaper out of the way, and then we would try cloth.

I was pretty sure it was brilliant planning on my part. A chance to test out the diapers, without the fear of nastiness. I even thought this could possibly be our system forever. Disposables until she poops or when we go out in public, but otherwise – cloth all the way. The best of both worlds.

Only, something special happened as soon as that cloth touched her bum. First, it became quickly evident I had no idea what I was doing:

(Yeah. It’s not supposed to look like that.)

But then, even worse than my inability to snap this thing correctly, came the poop that I had specifically anticipated against. It happened fast too, almost like she knew I didn’t want her to go in this thing, so she just had to do it anyway. And because I had no idea what I was doing, and the diaper was clearly not on tight enough, that poop got everywhere.

Everywhere I tell you.

I damn near cried. I didn’t even have the diaper sprayer set up yet! I had just been testing the waters! Practicing really. This was supposed to be a dry run.

Literally.

So running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to get her cleaned up and me cleaned up and somehow not destroy this diaper in the process, I wound up rinsing it in the toilet with a glass of water I kept refilling (splashing all over the place in a way that still has me sad) before tossing it in a plastic bag and setting it aside to be dealt with at a later date.

I was then taken over by a fierce mix of stubbornness and pride, determined to figure this whole cloth diapering thing out. So I tried again, this time at least getting the diaper to look right.

I was even feeling a little proud of myself, sure that I was now on the ball.

Until the next day, when the whole poop debacle happened again. Once more, after I allowed myself to believe we were in the clear.

I mean, for real? How?!?

Grossed out and distraught, I decided the following day (so two days after the first poop) that it was time to actually load this whole mess into the washing machine. Only when I opened up the bucket intent on transferring the entire load to the wash, I was hit with a smell that I swear was meant to be used as an agent of war.

This is where I should probably tell you that my entire life, I have always been really sensitive to bathroom smells. I can’t use port-a-pots, or even pick up doggy doo, because the smell almost always makes me gag.

Real gags, that often evolve into actually losing a meal.

It probably has something to do with the fact that I, personally, don’t poop. Ever. (Still my story, still sticking to it.)

This has been for as long as I can remember though. The smell of bodily functions just kills me. And while I am fine with the day to day baby changes (for whatever reason, that doesn’t rank on the same level with me), the smell of that bucket was enough to put me over the edge.

I died. I really, truly died.

And in that moment, I came thisclose to chucking those diapers out and giving up for good.

Instead, I somehow managed to get them into the wash. Barely.

But I’m not going to lie – I totally threw away the bucket.

And with that, I have to admit – I’m just not sure cloth diapering is for me. I know I did a lot of things wrong here. Like, apparently I wasn’t supposed to have them in a closed container. And I’m sure having the sprayer set up would have alleviated some of the linger. Perhaps thinking this whole thing through prior to testing the waters would have been smart.  But seriously, I’m just not sure I can do this. I mean, I’m totally all “rah rah for the environment and savings to my wallet!” and all that.  Not to mention how weird I am about chemicals (I use a cup for my period because I am concerned about the bleach in pads and tampons, but I’m going to be cool with disposables on my babies bum?) and the fact that I really do believe cloth diapers are just about as cute as it gets.

Yet still, I don’t think I’m mom enough for this.

And then come the excuses. I live in a 780 square foot condo. Where the heck am I supposed to hang these things to dry? Or put an open container to store them in while they wait to be washed? How do I keep the smell from permeating everywhere? Or explain to future suitors why my home has been overtaken by diapers?

But most importantly of all – how am I supposed to get over the ick factor?

Because I’ve got to admit, I am now pretty thoroughly convinced that all things poop should be immediately disposed of.

No if’s, and’s, or butt’s about it.

See what I did there? Butt’s? Yeah, I know, I’m quite clever.

So there you have it. I feel awful knowing the effort my cousin went to in order to get me these diapers. I still have the damn things because of that guilt alone. Although, I might have already returned the sprayer and diaper bags. I suppose I could still be convinced to use them. And I’m sure Cheek’s butt would thank me (along with the earth, and my bank account.)

But… I’m just not sure it’s worth it.

At least not until Cheeks is old enough to know that you don’t poop in cloth.

And I think waiting until she is potty trained might actually be missing the point.