3 months

Totally didn’t have time to do the cute little 3 month sticker photo yesterday. I spent the day in San Diego and didn’t get home until midnight, and by then we were both over it. But I’ll do it today. The anal retentive (OCD?) person in me that’s strict about exact dates and times is very uncomfortable with this.

Bumpus is three months, which according to Dr. Google, means he is no longer a newborn. I have often wondered how our ancestors felt about this milestone. A friend of mine pointed out recently that a baby’s first birthday doesn’t mean much to the baby because he’s too little to understand, but it means a lot to the parents, in that they managed to keep the baby alive for that whole first year. So today I celebrate the passing of the fragile newborn age. Despite my utter ineptitude I have kept Bumpus alive past those first difficult months. And even better he has not been sick, had diaper rash, failed to thrive, nor been dropped or fallen on my watch. I knew this one was a keeper.

I did notice that the anniversary of my chemical pregnancy passed on Friday.  Like so many of my fellow bloggers who suffered loss before a healthy baby, I did contemplate this a bit on Friday. I remembered sitting on the couch with my heart pounding, feeling more and more discharge slipping out of me, finally calling the Kaiser helpline, then getting myself over to the emergency room, then going to my bandleader friend’s house to tell him and his wife what was going on since we were about to leave for Boston (the same trip I’m going to take this Friday). I remember that ugly, insecure feeling of being the single chick trying to have a baby and having no idea if it would ever work out, and the torment of keeping it from my friends in case it never did. How alone I was in all of it (although very grateful for the few friends I had told, and my sister, so I at least had a few shoulders to cry on). I remember lamenting, “I wish I had a crystal ball.” If only I could have had a peek at a year later and seen cute little Bumpus and how amazing he is!  But unfortunately life just doesn’t work like that. Today I sit here and wonder if in a year I’ll be pregnant with baby #2 or if I will have abandoned the whole idea, or if I’ll still be unsure. OR even worse, if I’ll be in the middle of trying and have experienced more loss. It could go any way, really.

My enthusiasm over my Boston trip has been somewhat dampened by the fact that hardly any of the relatives I arranged to meet with after my singing gig are actually going to be able to show up. First my sister warned me her husband probably wouldn’t be able to make it because he’s an engineer and is on a huge project – fine, I’ll see him on my NY trip in August, so no big deal. But then it was her brother in law, who works, who can’t get off work. And then it was his wife, too (my “other” sister), which also means their son. And finally Saturday morning it was their parents (my son’s defacto grandparents) who emailed to say they also couldn’t make it because of work. Huh? Apparently nobody realized the 4^th of July this year is in the middle of the week, and where I’m going to be in Massachusetts is about three hours away from where they all live, so a quick day trip isn’t really possible. So even though everyone was gung-ho about meeting up to see the baby for the first time when I planned this months ago, now nobody’s coming. After talking to the “other” sister on the phone, I get it – they are poor working folks who just took all their vacation time on a trip a couple of weeks ago and just can’t ask for more days off. Had I come on a weekend it would be no problem. But it did dawn on me just how difficult it’s going to be to have my son be consistently in their lives. They are never going to visit me here, and most of my trips to the east coast are for gigs which are always on weekends. I can come on holidays of course – but just visiting once a year doesn’t really cut it with a kid who grows so fast. It breaks my heart when I think these people aren’t going to see him at this stage – in fact probably won’t see him until maybe Christmas, when he’ll be so much older. Ugh! Oh well, what can you do? At least my sister will be there, and we’re gathering at my cousin’s place, and I imagine my uncle will come out too. So there is that.

I now have to start my flurry of activity before I leave on Friday. Luckily I stocked up on diapers, bought a new big suitcase, have arranged a ride to the airport, and am in general ready for the trip. Now I just have two remaining big event projects – finalizing the contest music for eleven contests, and editing the video tribute, which I am absolutely determined to get done before I leave. When I get back it will be (gasp) only three weeks until my event, which is always a mess of paperwork, customer service, and niggling last minute details.  In other words, not good at all for in depth projects that require long stretches of time and concentration. On the health front, baby has not slept through the night again after those three nights. We’re back to a four-five hour stretch, followed by cluster feeding the rest of the morning until I just give up trying to sleep and get up for the day. But hooray, my breast pain appears to be gone. It left as suddenly and inexplicably as it appeared – one day I just noticed I wasn’t in pain anymore. I haven’t done anything different, so all I can guess is it was just some kind of temporary growth pain I was in, or something. Lack of pain has allowed me to almost always now nurse without the nipple shield, which makes things less fussy and gear-intensive. So, hooray for no more pain!