Deep Thought Thursdays

May 24, 2012

Lessons Learned from Month 3 of Parenting 2

Memorial Day weekend, the unofficial start to the Summer of 2012, isn’t just a couple of days away. It’s still April, right? It really can’t be May 24th today. But, alas, it is. And in all honesty, I knew this day was coming all week long. It’s been exactly three months since little Elyse made her noisy arrival into the world. Even though three months isn’t really that long of a period of time, it certainly feels as if our second daughter has always been a part of our family. We’ve officially cleared the quater-year mark, or what Taylor and I have referred to as “the three worst months of parenting.” And we’ve survived without any major scars. Today, Elyse isn’t so much a ball of need as a bundle of joy. She still needs constant care, but she is definitely more aware of our presence and rewarding us more and more with her broad smiles and cute little coos. I remember the first three months of Clara’s life being so much harder than these past few have been with Elyse. Perhaps it was because Clara was a TERRIBLE sleeper. Or, perhaps it was because Clara was our first living child – the first one to wake us out of a sound sleep multiple times a night, the first one to cluster feed (i.e. link two feedings back-to-back) in the dead of

I’m three months old!

night and the first one teach us that not all newborn babies nap. Thankfully, Elyse is nothing like her sister in these regards. Quite the opposite of Clara, before she was three months old, Elyse slept through the night (meaning 5-6 hours of straight sleep – yeah for me!), only suckered us into a cluster feed once or twice and naps very peacefully for a large portion of the day. Clara broke us in; Elyse is giving us a break. We couldn’t be more thrilled.

Speaking of Clara, she just adores her little sister — well, most of the time. When Elyse cries, Clara has one of two reactions: 1). She’ll grab a receiving blanket and cover Elyse’s body or 2). She’ll grab a receiving blanket and cover Elyse’s face. Sigh. Lately, she’s been covering Elyse’s body more and more. I’m taking this as a good sign. There have even been a few occasions when during a particularly fussy moment Clara will race to Elyse’s side, grab her little hand and say, “It’s okay, Elyse. This is Clara.” I really need to have my video camera on 24/7 in order to capture some of these moments.

So, as I’ve done the previous two months, I’d like to take this opportunity to reflect upon some of the things that I’ve learned during Elyse’s third month of life. In addition to teaching me a thing or two more about parenting this month, Elyse also surpassed a major infant milestone: She rolled over from her front to her back last week. Considering she was born prematurely and her adjusted age is really two months, we couldn’t be happier! So without further adieu, here’s how this past month has enlightened me:

Lesson One: Routines are a good thing.

I’ve always thrived on the advantages of having a game plan in place for the day/week/month and knowing exactly what’s in-store for me at any given point in time. To me, routines = certainty, and when things are certain, I’m a happy camper. I’ve also discovered over the past two and a half years that my penchant for monotony, boring as it may be, and general aversion to spontaneity is shared by babies and toddlers alike. Although quite adaptable in their own little ways, Clara and Elyse are happiest when meal, nap and play times occur on a consistent basis from day-to-day. Let’s take Elyse, for example. Thankfully, she’s put herself on a nighttime schedule. For the last few weeks, she’s been going to bed around 11/11:30 p.m. and waking up around 5/5:30 a.m. I’ll feed her at 5:30, put her back down by 6 a.m. and then she’ll sleep until around 8:30 or 9 a.m. And during the day, she’s consistently wanting to nurse every two hours or so. Believe me, I’ll take nursing frequently during the daytime hours for the chance to sleep a solid six hours at night. Parenting has definitely taught me how to choose my battles.

Lesson Two: Time goes by even faster when you have multiple children.

I thought the first couple of months of Clara’s life flew by in a flash until I had Elyse. Because our days are so routinely busy, they sail right by. Our mornings are spent getting dressed, eating breakfast and playing. Before I know it, it’s lunchtime. Clara’s nap time – 3 p.m. — comes quicker each day. While she naps, I take Elyse downstairs with me for a workout. My workouts now take much longer since I oftentimes have to stop mid-run to feed Elyse. But, as long as I can get back to my treadmill, we’re both satisfied. Every so often I squeeze an appointment or errand into our routine — you have to change things up every once in a while, right? And since the beginning of the month, we’ve been attending a weekly music class on Thursday mornings. While Clara and I sing and dance, Elyse usually catches a cat nap. For now, this routine works well for us. But I know that as Elyse becomes more active and Clara begins cutting back on her nap, it’s going to change. So, even though my life is quite predictable at the moment, future changes to our daily routine will add in just the dash of excitement that we need.

As I’ve said during the past two months — sometimes I really feel like a broken record — it simply amazes me how quickly time passes by. The older I get, the more I appreciate the value and scarcity of this precious commodity. Before I had children, it didn’t faze me much when I slept in on a Saturday morning or stayed in bed watching movies before facing the day. But now, I choose to get up and spend those extra few hours catching up on chores or spending quality time with the girls. As Ferris Bueller once said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” And when it comes to Clara and Elyse, I don’t want to miss a thing.

Silly Elyse — must be laughing at something I said. :0)

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May 17, 2012

When Worlds Collide

“On April 4, 1980, my 19-month run as an only child came to an end when my parents brought my new baby sister, Christine, home from the hospital. Although I don’t remember that day, I have been told many times that as soon as baby Christine was put down for a nap, I threw a ball in the bassinet and waited for it to be returned. It would take many months for baby Chrissy to throw that ball back to me, but in the meantime, I kept myself entertained with my new sibling by feeding her my own baby puree concoctions, which she gladly ate, and teaching her the ropes of being a little sister.

Since we were so close in age, we were the perfect little playmates. But, as we grew up, Chrissy and I began to realize that we were as different as a blonde and brunette with blond highlights could be. We fought over everything from boys to clothes (which Chris would borrow from me without my permission and then return to my closet unwashed) to our parents’ attention. It wasn’t until I went away to college and moved out of the house, that we began to truly appreciate one another’s differences,
something that still holds true to this day.”

Above is the first half of the toast that I wrote for my sister’s wedding this past September. After many months of imagining what I’d say on that oh-so-important day, I finally sat down at my computer the night before her nuptials to put the toast together. I’m not sure why I procrastinated when it came to completing such an important task. Part of me knows it’s because I was just so swamped with other things during her nine-month long engagement. The other part of me suspects it’s because it took until the wee hours of the morning of September 17, 2011 to put into words the feelings that had been residing within me for so long. It was important for me to get just the right message across; I wanted to convey my love for my little sister, some relevant sibling history and a light-hearted joke or two. In the end, I was happy with the finished product and even managed to get a few laughs as I delivered my speech, minus a toasting glass (yeah for being a preggo Matron of Honor), to my sister and her new husband’s 150 guests.

Most people who know my sister and I are aware of the fact that, although we may share some physical traits, the similarities pretty much end there. To say that we are as different as night and day would be an understatement. From tastes in food to favorite activities to parenting styles, we each take up our post at either end of almost every spectrum. However, we do have one very unique thing in common at this very moment: We are both parenting a newborn (or infant as is in my case). My sister gave birth to her second son, Ryder, eight weeks to the day that we welcomed Elyse into the world. Her due date was a mere five weeks out from my own, but because I delivered Elyse three and a half weeks early, Ryder and her cousin are just about two months apart. So right now, we are both going through the very tumultuous motions of the first few months of a new baby’s life. Lately I’ve been struggling with one of the more common feelings that accompanies early infancy — an intense feeling of isolation. Because I’m nursing Elyse, I try not to stray too far from home for too long, with or without her in my company. Also, since I’ve been so consumed with caring for a baby and a toddler, I haven’t been as available to answer emails and phone calls from friends. Finally, Taylor has been so busy with work, projects around the house and helping me care for the girls that we haven’t had a lot of time to connect as a couple. Hence, I’m really looking forward to summer when Elyse’s tummy will be a bit bigger and the warm weather will force me to leave the confines of the house.

So, here I’ve been so consumed with my own feelings of isolation for the past month or so that I completely forgot my sister just had a baby as well. Duh. It wasn’t until this past Wednesday when she brought Brody and Ryder over for a visit that I realized, “Hey, I’m really not in this by myself.” It felt wonderful venting my feelings regarding all of my current challenges to my sister. She listened intently and gave me the feedback I needed to hear to know that I was justified in my feelings. And as we both sat in the living room nursing our new babies, for the first time in a very long time, I felt the sisterly bond that once united us against the rest of the world. She was my first friend, my first confidant and my first adversary. As we grew from children to teenagers, ignited by our own passions, we took separate paths. Once we became adults, we reunited under the guise of common interests. But it wasn’t until yesterday that I truly felt connected, not just because of shared DNA, but because we are sharing one of the most extraordinary experiences known to man – motherhood.

Chris, Ryder, Elyse and I on Mother’s Day.

It isn’t very often that two sisters get pregnant at the same time. It isn’t very often that two sisters give birth to babies within mere months of one another. It isn’t very often that two sisters are able to get along so well in spite of their vast differences. But this week when I needed comfort from a place of complete empathy and understanding, I knew where to turn. As Alice Walker once pondered, “Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister?” I think not.

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May 10, 2012

Jennifer L.M. Henshall, M.A., M.O.M.

A few weeks ago an old friend from college stopped by the house to visit and meet Clara and Elyse. I hadn’t seen him since July 2009 when I was pregnant with Clara. While we were catching up, he asked me if I had finished my Ph.D. I regretfully answered, “No.” Then he asked me if I was A.B.D. (All But Dissertation, which is when you’ve finished all of the Ph.D. requirements minus the dissertation itself). Again, I regretfully answered, “No.” Not finishing what would have been my most important academic achievement is the only major task that I’ve started and never saw to completion. By nature, I’m not one to give up; even if I get sidetracked in the midst of a project or task, I always go back to finish it. But, unfortunately, this was not the case with the elusive Ph.D.

I started the Ph.D. program in the Communication Studies Department at UCONN a few months after we got married in 2005. I remember feeling reluctant beginning such a major undertaking so soon after getting married, but heeded my major professor’s advice — that there was no time like the present — and jumped head first into what ended up being a very rigorous five semesters. Long story short, between the 90-minute commute from the East Side of Providence (where we were living at the time), my course load, my teaching schedule and my own research requirements, I found myself feeling miserable, imprisoned and alone. Hence, I decided to suspend my studies, leave UCONN behind and just focus on teaching. Thankfully, a couple of weeks after leaving the Ph.D. program in December 2007, I landed a job at Bridgewater State University, where I spent the following four years teaching undergraduates how to speak in public, work in groups and successfully navigate personal relationships (well, at least I hope this is what they learned from taking my classes).

Although I do have some regrets about leaving UCONN without having attained the degree I once sought, my life would have definitely turned out much differently had I taken a more academically focused path. But, at the age of 29, the alarm on my biological clock was screaming; I was ready to put aside my need for academic prowess in exchange for exploring an area in which I had absolutely no expertise — motherhood. Before I was a mother (and even while pregnant with Clara), I often joked that after all of the years I spent in school, I had a great deal of knowledge in many areas, motherhood not being one of them. Mommy101 was not a class offered at any of the schools I attended. This was one area where I needed to study up. But, unfortunately, you can’t learn how to be a good parent from reading Dr. Spock — you learn as you live and you live as you make mistake after mistake. In no way am I a perfect parent, but after almost two and a half years of experience, I feel that I have definitely earned my parenting degree. Thus, the title of today’s post: JLMH, M.A., M.O.M.

I earned the Master’s Degree (M.A.) by studying hard, reading article upon article of research, citing pages upon pages of academic inquiries and completing my Master’s Thesis. But it wasn’t until I spent hour upon hour in the middle of the night nursing my babies back to sleep, learning to patiently raise a baby from a newborn to a toddler and realizing that parenting a child means putting your own needs out of reach at times, that I felt comfortable enough having earned the title of M.O.M.

For years, I watched my own mother care for my sister and I. She really made it look so easy. And, more importantly, she welcomed each day with a smile on her face and an agenda for how the day would unfold. Although she never made it apparent to my sister and I, whenever Mom would say, “And this is the order of the day,” we knew that we had things to accomplish, but we would have fun all the while. Now that I’m a mom, I’ve taken my mother’s lead in trying to make the most out of each day. Although Clara and Elyse are still too small to understand, I am really focused on making lots of wonderful childhood memories for them — memories much like the ones that I can recall. In particular, I want the girls to have an appreciation for holidays — all of the holidays. So, as my own mother once did, I hang holiday-themed cardboard cut-outs on my kitchen cabinets for the major holidays. I have them all –Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, you name it. I even string appropriately matched colored lights on a fake Ficus tree in the living room. All of this is in an attempt to make the various times of the year special for my children. I have such fond childhood memories of baking pink frosted heart-shaped cakes, scouring the front yard for the perfect foliage to make leaf placemats and dying brightly colored Easter eggs on the kitchen table, all thanks to my mom. Now, I am fortunate in that I can share these same experiences with my girls.

So, I’m no longer a Ph.D. student and I’ve traded in my Powerpoint slides and lecture notes for dirty diapers and children’s literature. Although I once dreamed of the day when a student would call me Doctor, this once-desired aspiration could never compare to the overwhelming feeling of love I experience every time Clara proudly calls me “Mommy.”

Happy Mother’s Day to all of my DTT Moms. You’ve all earned your M.O.M. suffixes — display them with pride and use them in good health.

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May 3, 2012

What a Difference a Year Makes

Ok, DTT readers, time to fess up. Who besides me saves their day planner from the previous year just so they can look back at what was going on exactly 365 days ago at any given time? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

*cue the crickets chirping*

Ok, so maybe I’m the only crazy one who saves these types of things, but you never know when you’re going to need to see exactly what you were doing on some random date like March 13, 2011. :0) It’s hard to believe that May is already upon us, especially considering the raw and rainy weather that we’ve been experiencing over the course of the last few days. However, it is May and spring is in full swing — rain, blooms and all. Seeing as it’s that time of year again — time to start gearing up for summer barbecues and dips in the pool — I can’t help but think of how much has changed in our lives, as well as in the lives of those around us, during the course of the last 12 months. I’m using this particular time of year as a benchmark because it was just about this time last year that we began trying to get pregnant again. When I looked back at the May 2011 calendar, I discovered that May 2nd marked the end of my Spring 2011 semester at Bridgewater State, which meant that exactly one year ago today, I was more than likely up to my eyeballs in end-of-the-semester grade calculations. Today, was spent much differently than that of one year ago. Clara, Elyse and I braved the dreary and wet weather and made our way to Clara’s first Kindermusik class at Zambinski Music Studio in Pawtucket. While Elyse napped in her infant carrier, Clara and I sang songs, played instruments and danced with the other children and their moms. We (at least I know that I) had a blast and am excited to go back next week. When I asked Clara if she had fun, she repeated, “Had fun,” so I’m taking this as a good sign. I think her favorite part of the class was when she got to choose a sticker from a sheet of foil stars the teacher presented her with just before we left to go home. Of course, as a fellow lover of all things shiny, she chose the silver star, which she proudly displayed on the top of her hand for a good part of the afternoon.

Clara in May of 2011

Besides giving birth to one of the cutest baby girls in the world, I’ve had the distinct pleasure of watching Clara grow and change into quite the toddler. Take this very moment for instance. Since I began writing this week’s reflection, Clara has managed to fall flat on her face while jumping off of the pillows (thankfully, she recovered quickly with the help of our resident Boo-Boo Buddy), take a poop (it’s a good thing I gave her a bath earlier this evening — ugh) and get scolded for standing in the desk drawer (she likes to stand in the drawer so that she can get at the computer mouse and keyboard). All the while, she babbled in her cute toddler-speak, much of it being easily discernible to her father and I.

Like all parents, we feel that Clara is an overachiever and very smart for her age. But, I really think she’s a genius. I’m not kidding. In addition to inheriting her father’s Angelina Jolie-like lips (I’m sure Taylor would be thrilled to know that I was comparing him to Angelina Jolie), Clara has been given the gift of her father’s great intelligence. When I say that Taylor is the smartest person that I know, I’m not just blowing smoke because he is my husband. He really is highly intelligent. So, intelligent, in fact, that I can never win an argument and oftentimes get frustrated with him because he can’t understand things from my perspective. But, thankfully, it looks like Clara’s IQ has benefitted from her father’s genes. She really does amaze me with her vast vocabulary, ability to create complex sentences (well, complex for an almost two-and-a-half-year old), and knack for solving puzzles. It’s a good thing we got a Kindle Fire from my parents for Christmas, as it’s provided many, many hours of puzzle-solving fun for our little genius-in-the-making. On a daily basis, Clara continues to astonish me with her antics, which I proudly share with Taylor as soon as he gets home from work. Just today, in fact, she was reading a Thomas the Train book on the Kindle and making up the story from what she could see in the pictures. The funny thing is, she was right on track (pun intended!) with her own fabricated tale. Unreal.

Clara and Elyse today

The biggest changes in our lives have centered around our children. But since last May, Taylor and I have also done our fair share of growing — as parents, as a couple and as individuals. Carrying a NAIT pregnancy tested our marriage and, thankfully, strengthened it as a result. Carrying a NAIT pregnancy tested my strength, my courage and pushed me to limits I never knew existed. Since last May, I’ve come to the realization that once NAIT entered our lives, they were forever changed. And even though we’ve overcome this disease and have two healthy daughters to show for it, NAIT will never truly go away; it will always be a part of my life. However, I’ve coined a new acronym for the affliction that has not only taken away my innocence, but has also given me a renewed sense of confidence and a strength greater than I have ever known. Last May, NAIT stood for Neonatal Alloimmune Thrombocytopenia. This May, the letters N A I T now represent: Never Allow It To win (NAIT Parents: fill in the blank here…).

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April 26, 2012

Lesson Learned from Month 2 of Parenting 2

Two months ago I was blogging from a recliner seated by Elyse’s bedside while tiny white snowflakes danced around outside the window of her NICU suite. It was a cold and gray time, not only because it was late-February, but also because, although she had been born with an acceptable platelet count, Elyse was being hospitalized for an undetermined length of time due to respiratory distress. Two months ago, Elyse weighed just under six pounds and was an average newborn length of 19 inches. As she lay in her little isolette attached to wires and a breathing monitor, I sat by her and patiently waited for the bradys (remember those moments of really shallow breathing?) to subside so that we could take her home to her sister and two kitties.

Today, two months later, I am blogging from the comfortable black pleather desk chair in my living room. Outside the windows, the sun shines brightly over the freshly cut grass and newly manicured mulch beds of my backyard, the birds are chirping and the air smells of the promise of summer and the good times ahead. Today, Elyse weighs well over nine pounds (nine pounds, eight ounces, in fact) and is now 20 1/4 inches in length. Considering that she was born almost a month early (her adjusted age is really just over a month old), she’s growing very well. On Tuesday, her two-month “birthday,” she received her first round of vaccinations and today she woke up with her first cold (ugh). It has been quite a week for her.

I know that time passes more quickly with each passing year of life, but it seems to speed by even more rapidly when you spend your days caring for and watching your two little ones grow. My dad called me on Tuesday to check-in (he’s really wonderful about checking in with his “little sweethearts” every week) and when I told him that Elyse had her two-month check-up earlier that afternoon, he replied, “Two months already? Wow. That went by fast for me, I’m sure it went by even faster for you.” And, you know, like all great dads, he’s always right. :0)

So, what has month two of parenting two taught me? Well, I would have to say that I’ve learned to appreciate asking for help — from family and friends — all the more. Now that I’m just about fully recovered from my c-section and am finding it a bit easier to navigate through my days and nights on broken sleep (thankfully, Clara does allow me to sleep until at least 8:30 or 9 on most mornings), Taylor has begun traveling for work again. Since the beginning of April, he’s taken two business trips — a quick trip to Tennessee and New York and a longer one to London. Not being one who likes to ask for assistance if I can help it (I just hate to put that burden on others), I felt okay asking my mom to spend the night so that she could assist me in bringing the girls to a late-morning appointment and was relieved when my in-laws showed up on a Friday night so that I could get dressed after my shower in peace. I am fortunate in that I have so many people who I can call on to lend me a hand (don’t worry, I know who you are…), and believe me, when I need assistance, I’ll call. Otherwise, I try to get things done on my own — sometimes it’s just easier. Besides, I like a good challenge every now and then. :0)

So, asking for and receiving help is one of my weaknesses, but when I was pregnant with Elyse, I was more than willing to take advantage (in the best sense of the word, that is) when others offered to help out with Clara, housework, etc. In addition to a lot of other life lessons, enduring a treated NAIT-pregnancy gave me the courage (and strength) to ask for assistance when I needed it. I guess you really don’t feel as shy about asking others for favors when you are in such a precarious position. Not only did I rely on those who surrounded me for help, but I also looked to my fellow NAIT moms for advice and support. Knowing that I had a face-to-face as well as a virtual support system gave me a lot of comfort. It still does. Even though I’m not carrying a NAIT pregnancy any longer, I regularly look to my virtual family for reassurance during the aftermath of the most challenge experience of my life to date. And while Elyse is doing well and thriving as she should, I can’t help but wonder if all of the treatments, drugs, ultrasounds and stress are going to adversely affect her one day? This is why having a strong support system will always be an important part of my life.

In the meantime, I’ve come to embrace my newfound confidence (thanks to overcoming some pretty difficult obstacles) and feel much more comfortable in my new position as someone who now feels that it’s okay to rely on others for help and support. While the last two months have gone by in a flash, I’m looking forward to the laziness that summer brings and am hoping to savor the next two months of Elyse’s life even more than the previous two. Watching my girls develop and progress has been the greatest gift anyone has given me. I’ll be forever grateful to all of those individuals (you know who you are and I thank you for reading each week) whose help and assistance has given me the time I need to enjoy motherhood — something I once thought I would never get to experience.

In the spirit of helpfulness and in an effort to pay it forward, I would like to offer up my assistance to a former UCONN colleague. He is now a professor in the Communication Studies Department at the University of Rhode Island. This semester he’s challenged two of his classes to make a viral video on an important social issue, with the caveat that in order to get an A+ on the project, the video has to get 1,000,000 hits in just under one month. One of the classes chose to focus their project on breast cancer awareness and have coined their campaign “Make it Pink.” They want to make tomorrow — April 27th — pink and are asking you to help them out. I encourage you to take a few minutes to watch the video below. Also, for more information about the Make it Pink campaign, please visit www.makeitpink.org. So, DTT readers, let’s all help these students reach their goal: Watch their video and make tomorrow pink!

*NOTE: I’ll be posting up some pictures of the girls from the last month later this weekend. I know that I’ve been slacking on the picture front and will make-up for it in a few days! :0)*

April 23, 2012

Only the Patient Prevail

Tuesday, April 17, 2012, 12:03 a.m.: The four digits on our alarm clock — 12:03 — stared back at me in a seemingly mocking silence. It was almost as if they knew that I desperately wanted to be anywhere but there — waiting patiently (or as patiently as could be expected at this time of night) in the dark for my two-year old to stop her one-sided dialogue and drift off into dreamland. As I wondered how long it would take Clara to fall asleep — she had been put to bed two hours earlier — I listened to the tick-tock of the baby swing, which had now taken up residence in our room, lull Elyse to sleep. Besides the red glow from the alarm clock, the only other light visible in the room was radiating from the baby monitor seated on the night stand. Normally, I would have switched on the TV to catch an old Friends rerun while I passed the time. However, I was reluctant to turn on the flat-screen for fear that the strobing effects of my favorite syndicated sitcom would disrupt Elyse’s slumber. While I waited for Clara to finish yet another rendition of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” I found myself drifting off. For fear that she would somehow manage to get out of bed, open the door to her room and find herself in the pitch black hallway, I decided to download a reading light app to my phone and try to finish off a few more chapters of the latest mystery I was absorbed in — a kitschy, easy-read entitled “The Cream Puff Murder” by Joanne Fluke. Finally, at 12:15, the monitor stood silent — Clara had fallen asleep. I switched off my reading light app, crawled out of bed and made my way to her room across the hall. After oh-so-carefully opening her bedroom door (Note to self: Must apply WD-40 to bedroom door hinges), I tip-toed to her bed and peered over the bed rail. My little blonde miracle was curled up in the corner of the full-size bed sleeping peacefully. I let out a sigh of relief and returned to the warmth of my own bed. Both girls were sleeping soundly; now it was my turn to retire for the night.

As you know, last Thursday’s blog post was delayed as I spent most of the week chasing after Clara and tending to eight-week old Elyse. Taylor was on his first long business trip since Elyse’s birth and I was on my own — left to fend for myself with a toddler and infant in my sole care. My only goal each morning was to get us all up, dressed and properly fed. The rest of the day was spent playing and nursing. I did my best to get in my daily workout while Clara napped and tend to an additional chore or two if time allotted. When Taylor returned on Friday night, he complimented my ability to make it through the week unscathed. I admitted that I did have a moment of weakness during Thursday night’s bedtime routine when both girls were hysterically crying, but otherwise, I did my best to get us through each day. Thanks to a little bit of patience and a whole lot of chocolate, I successfully played the role of a single-parent for five whole days.

Since becoming a mother, I’ve had a lot of time to hone and refine one of my all-time weaknesses: Patience, or rather my lack of it. But, when you have a child, you have to give them, as well as yourself, sufficient time to learn, grow, and tackle tasks. Before Clara (or B.C. :0)), I had only a limited amount of patience. But as I quickly learned, unfortunately, everyday can’t be planned and not all things happen according to your schedule. One of the things that I love most about Clara is the fact that she’s taught me that it’s okay to drop everything to stop and savor the moment. She’ll only be a baby and toddler once in her life, so I’m trying my best to enjoy every minute with her; even those that aren’t so pleasant (i.e. her recent two-year old temper tantrums).

Once I found out that I was pregnant with Elyse and would be experiencing the highs and lows of a treated NAIT pregnancy, I knew that my “patience threshold” was just going to increase. Having to wait for test results, bide my time between ultrasounds and just get through the 36 weeks and four days of my pregnancy tested my limits. I found that distraction really was the key to upping my patience tolerance. Clara kept me busy while Elyse grew in my womb. Watching Clara learn to speak in complete sentences and grow into toddler clothes helped motivate me to move forward each day in my pregnancy, despite the odds. And really, how can one not help but to develop a deeper threshold for patience when hooked up to an IV for 11 hours each week over the span of four months? Balancing infusions, motherhood and my job at Bridgewater State University forced me to prioritize my life, while teaching me to postpone or let go of some of the little things that really didn’t need my attention at the time.

Now that Elyse is here and I’m a mother of two, I’ve, yet again, upped my patience ante. Last week’s single-parenting stint proved, at least to me, that it’s okay to start a task/project/run/etc. only to be interrupted and forced to return to it later on in the day or week for that matter. Eventually, these things will get done. For me, a Type A all the way, it isn’t easy to begin a task only to have to come back to it later. But, as I sit here with only three out of four loads of laundry folded, a blog post that took me over a week to write and multiple other projects still in the works, the woman who would once-upon-a-time unpacked an entire house in less than a week at more than nine months pregnant, smiles at herself knowing that as long as her children are happy, healthy and thriving, it is important to, “Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself” - Saint Francis de Sales.

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April 19, 2012

Mommy Math

1 out-of-town husband + 2 cranky children + 3 late nights + 4 days of single parenting =

A belated weekly blog post

Sorry for the delay, DTT readers. It’s been a tough week. Look for an update by the end of the weekend!

April 12, 2012

The Chosen Ones

You know you’re tired when you put a Size 1 diaper (meant for babies 8-14 pounds) on your almost 30-pound toddler. Whoops. While trying to figure out why the smaller diaper wouldn’t fasten around Clara’s cute little thighs (she takes a Size 5!), I realized that maybe I should try to take a nap every now and then. Oh, well – sounds good in theory, doesn’t it?

Today was a fairly trying one for me. Both of my precious daughters decided to soil their outfits (within mere minutes of one another) this morning and needed complete wardrobe changes. Clara has been more rambunctious than usual — as evidenced by the nice shiner she’s sporting on the corner of her left eye — and Elyse has shortened the length of time between both her daytime and nighttime feedings. Instead of going her usual 2-3 hours between her daytime feedings and 3-4 hours at night, she’s down to about 1.5 – 2 hours during the day and 2-3 hours during my most precious of sleeping hours. Ugh. I think she’s going through a growth spurt. We’ll see for sure tomorrow when I weigh her again. Since we bought an infant/toddler scale to monitor her weight gain, we have discovered that Elyse gains about an ounce per day. When I weighed her before one of her morning nursing sessions yesterday, she weighed about eight pounds, 13 ounces. Considering her recent feeding frenzy, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was well over nine pounds during tomorrow’s weigh-in. We shall see. Apparently, the multiple handfuls of Cadbury mini-eggs that I’ve been scarfing down lately are making their way to Elyse’s tummy, too. :0)

I guess I shouldn’t complain too much, though. I feel blessed having two healthy children to care for and love. Granted, it’s not easy simultaneously caring for a toddler and a newborn, but it really is a rewarding job. Funny, I should mention the word “blessed” in the first sentence of this paragraph. Truth be told, I really can’t think of a more fitting word to describe how I feel toward the two little miracles that occupy about 99% of my waking (and non-waking) hours. I am always a bit reluctant to use religious expressions in my writing. This is really a two-fold strategy on my part: 1). I don’t want to offend any readers, as some religious undertones may be off-putting depending on your particular belief system and 2). Since I don’t really practice any particular religion any more, I feel hypocritical in using religious references. However, this is my blog, and thanks to the First Amendment, I am free to use whatever language I choose. Hence, although the importance of religion in my life may have waned over the last decade or so, sometimes, religion or religious vernacular is the most fitting way to describe particular feelings or phenomena.

If you know anything about my background, you may be wondering why a woman born and bred into a Roman Catholic family has shunned religion? Like a good Christian child and adolescent, I attended religious education, completed my sacraments and went to church fairly regularly — or at least when it was mandated. However, as I got older and started to experience my own personal struggles, I found myself questioning my religious beliefs. Even today, I don’t practice any particular religion because I haven’t come to terms, yet, with what I actually believe. I find it difficult to believe in God because I can’t fathom how God allows such atrocities to take place in the world. If there is a God, why is there war, hunger, poverty and hate? If there is a God, why have Taylor and I endured such struggles as we tried to have a family? If there is a God, why am I witnessing the people who I love fight to overcome such terrible obstacles as they try to grow their families, live their lives, find partners/spouses, etc.?

As I get older and learn more and more about others’ personal struggles, I feel less and less connected to any spiritual entity. I know that in times of doubt and frustration, people turn to religion as their savior, and I applaud them for this choice. However, I find myself having the exact opposite reaction — it’s almost as if I’m fighting against what I know could be a very plausible explanation for my own personal woes; as if I’m fighting the tide against something that’s much bigger than myself. Perhaps, those of us who have and will struggle have been chosen to do so. Now, I don’t know if I’ve devised this explanation to resolve the cognitive dissonance that has been brought about by personal obstacles such as melanoma, the death of my son, pregnancy loss and NAIT, but when I found myself in these difficult situations, I would often ask: “Why me?” Why did these circumstances enter my life? Fate? Bad luck? Or, was I “chosen” to shoulder the burden of complications such as cancer, child loss and high-risk pregnancy because someone knew that I, along with my partner, could handle them?

The “Why me?” conundrum hasn’t entertained my thoughts for quite some time — mostly due to the fact that things have been going pretty smoothly for my family and I as of late. However, I have several good friends that are currently facing their own struggles at the moment. And now, I find that instead of asking “Why me?” I’m asking, “Why them?” Each morning when I log on to Facebook to check on my fellow NAIT mommies, I am reminded of the harsh realities of this world. Coupled with my friends’ struggles, I’m now inquiring, “Why do these good, caring people have to endure such pain? Why aren’t they allowed to find life partners, become parents or have healthy pregnancies?” Perhaps, it is because they are also among the chosen ones – those special individuals selected to face problems such as NAIT, infertility, and loneliness because they have the strength to overcome them; they have the strength to rise above these challenges and grow and learn in the process.

I don’t know. And at the end of the day, I can’t fully explain why bad things happen to good people. They just do. Perhaps, we are somehow meant to face particular problems or chosen to grapple with unfortunate circumstances. Who really knows? What I do know is that as I age, I, along with other people who I love, will have to face more of life’s harsh realities. All we can really do is lend a supportive ear or shoulder to cry on when needed and try to make sense out of why these things happen to us. I also know that because of my own personal circumstances, I’ve learned to appreciate things such as the terrible twos and middle-of-the-night newborn cries. And when Elyse grinned at me for the first time yesterday afternoon, I thought, just for a moment, that I did see God in her smile.

*Today’s blog post was inspired by those friends of mine who are currently trying to find their way and are fighting against the tide…you know who you are, you know you will get there…you know I am always here for you…*

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April 6, 2012

Spring Cleaning for the Soul

Two sleeping babies + a cup of hot chai = blogging fun! Good Friday afternoon (yes, pun intended), DTT readers! It’s 3:31 p.m. and I know where my children are: Clara is napping up in her big girl bed (more on that in a minute) and Elyse is passed out on her boppy pillow just a mere 15 feet away from me. The only thing standing in between me and the completion of this blog post is the little black cat who is vying for my attention (and by vying I mean pacing back and forth in front of the computer screen) now that the girls are asleep. Did I mention that I never get any time to myself??

Anyway…

Spring sprung quite early in New England this year and even though I’ve been holed up in the house for the better part of the last six weeks, I’ve still managed to enjoy the sun and sights of our newest season from the comforts of my house. Although I am getting a bit stir crazy, I know that they’ll be plenty of time to soak up the nice weather once the yard is cleaned, the pool is open and Elyse is a little older. For now, I’m content making my infamous “To Do” lists (sorry, Taylor, I do have some projects with your name on them) and planning out how to get said projects done. Rest assured, when I’m not changing diapers or feeding and playing with the

Playtime with Clara and Elyse

girls, I do manage to get a closet or two organized on the fly. And little by little, I am starting to make a dent in my “inside the house” To Do list. The outside list is another story, however. In addition to the painting and organizing projects that I’ve outlined, I also have a couple of Clara projects to tackle — painting and setting up her new butterfly bedroom and potty training are among the few. Thankfully, last week, she helped me tackle a task that I had put aside for this summer — sleeping in a “big girl” bed. Since Elyse will probably be sleeping in our room for a couple of more months, I was in no rush to kick Clara out of her crib. However, she decided that she’d had enough of sleeping in her beechwood prison (a.k.a. her crib) and wanted to catch her Zs in the full-sized bed in the spare bedroom, or what will eventually become her new room, instead. So for about a week now, she’s been sleeping quite comfortably in the bed during her naps and at night. Whew. I hope one day she suddenly decides to trade her diapers for some “big girl” underwear. One can dream, can’t they?

Like most of you, I find that the warmer temperatures, sounds of the birds chirping, the sight of the blossoms that decorate the trees and the promise of summer to be extremely invigorating, particularly when it comes to getting rid of the old and welcoming in the new. Not only do I have plans to make-over my house and yard, but I also feel the need to make-over my soul (and, yes, as a teen in the 90s, I am giving a nod to Alicia Silverstone in Clueless here). It was almost a year ago that Taylor and I decided to start trying for our second NAIT baby, and in that time, I feel as if I’ve run the gamut of the emotional spectrum. From time to time, I take a peek back at my posts from the late fall and early winter as a way to gauge just how far I’ve come. Back then, I felt anxious and weary, but today, I’m feeling much more happy and content. It seems like eons ago that I was cautiously expecting, as today, I’m optimistically thriving. Back then, I felt weak and vulnerable and today I’m feeling strong and infallible. Trust me, I’ve never felt as sure about myself, my marriage and my children as I do at this very moment. I think challenging myself to carry a NAIT baby, get treatments and endure months of worry and stress, has given me this strange sense of invincibility. Believe me, by no means am I Super Woman or Super Mom, but I can definitely relate more to a super heroine than ever before. Strange, I know.

I plan on riding this wave of euphoria and strength for as long as it takes me — I’m hoping the shore isn’t too far up ahead. I know that over time, other obstacles and challenges will threaten my current emotional state, but in the meantime, I plan on doing all that I can to keep my psyche, as well as my soul, in check. Now that I’ve been given the green light from my doctor to resume all normal activities, I am going to go back to yoga. And once I’m done taking the prednisone – yes, almost two months later, I’m still weaning from this stuff — I would like to make an appointment with a homeopathic physician, as I plan on detoxing myself. After being exposed to the blood of thousands of donors during my 33 IVIG treatments, I feel rather unclean. In fact, when the Rhode Island Blood Center screened the bag of blood that I donated for Elyse, and later took back for my anemic self, it found antibodies against Hep B and the Human T-Cell virus. These are false positive results brought on the IVIG – I don’t actually have these conditions. But, now that the IVIG treatments are over, the prednisone is slowly working its way out of my system and I’m almost completely recovered from my c-section, it’s time to take back control of my body, as well as my soul. It’s time to spring clean myself!

As part of my “Self Spring Cleaning” regimen, I’ve been storing up lots of blog post ideas (it’s amazing how much soul-searching you can accomplish in the shower, at 3 in the morning, on the treadmill), so don’t be surprised to see some random ramblings on one thing or another as the weeks and months roll on. Don’t worry, I’ll still keep you updated on Clara and Elyse – the real stars of this blog. :0)

Perhaps, Clara can help me out with some of the baking...

Well, it appears that blogging time is up for today. The tea has been drained from my favorite Lake Tahoe coffee mug and Elyse is starting to fuss. It’s time for me to tend to her and bake several dozen cookies for this weekend’s Easter festivities. I wish all of you the happiest of holiday weekends — whether you’re celebrating Easter or Passover. I’m looking forward to seeing Clara’s face when she wakes up on Easter morning to find the basket that’s been left and the egg hunt that awaits. Tonight we’ll watch It’s the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown and color (with crayons) Easter eggs. Ah, I love this time of year — a time of new life and new beginnings – especially for the Henshall family.

Clara kissing "Baby Elyse," as she calls her.

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April 5, 2012

Spring Cleaning for the Soul — Posting Date: 4/6/12

Good evening and Happy Thursday, DTT readers! Since I had to run an errand this evening and am now getting ready to wind down for the day in preparation for Elyse’s nighttime feedings, I am going to have to post this week’s reflection — Spring Cleaning for the Soul– tomorrow, Friday, April 6th. I apologize for the delay. As usual, the day got away from me and before I knew it, it was already 9 p.m.

Until tomorrow, dear readers…

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