Shingles!

So it's been two weeks (?) since my last post. I've had a good reason for my absence. I developed a lovely case of shingles which if you haven't had, allow me to be the first to not recommend, especially postpartum.

It did wonders for my mood, energy, and general sense of well being. Once I learned I could nurse with the antivirals (side effects including headache, dizziness, and, of course, drowsiness), I learned I couldn't nurse on one breast because the rash decided to appear there. Great. So now, feeding has gone from a 20-30 minute, relaxing ritual to a 40-60 minute affair of pumping, nursing, prepping bottle, and bottle feeding. Oh yeah, burp!

On a positive note, this did allow me to watch "Wills and Kate" and the parade of hats which accompanied their nuptials.

I've still yet to find out if Veronica has contracted chicken pox. The "C-pox" apparently appears 10-14 days after exposure, and we are about to hit 14 days since the first symptoms appeared.

::crossing fingers::

I know that if she does get them, it'll be a mild case. Still, who wants a sick 8 week old?

Did I mention that Kevin never had the chicken pox??

However, now that the anti-virals are coursing through my blood, and the rash is, for the most part, crusting over as expected (yum!), I can say that this was far more tolerable than the UNBEARABLY ITCHY full body allergic reaction I had to antibiotics after giving birth. That lasted two weeks and was pretty much untreatable, save for a steroid cream, unless I was to stop nursing.I think I cried every night as the itchiness flared to epic levels.

So, two weeks penicillin rash combined with two weeks of shingles means that I've been an itchy gimp for half my child's life.

Let's hope this doesn't continue.

I had big plans for writing a witty satire of Cee Lo's "f*ck you" dedicated to the Shingles, but my creative juice is just gone.

The one line I did draft while seizing an opportunity to take a long, hot shower while Kevin tried to calm a fussy baby went something like this:

You say the sleep deprivation wasn't enough,
Shingles, f*ck you,
and this rash too.

That pretty much sums up my crummy attitude for the past two weeks. I'm hoping for a shiny, happier Shannon soon.

The Marathon

My friend Kelly made an accurate statement about these early weeks of motherhood. "It's a marathon, not a sprint."

Since I've never run a marathon, I can state without authority that there are two components to a marathon-- the physical capability and the mental fortitude.

The physical ability to survive and somehow function on 1 hour of sleep is really no problem, similar to pulling an all-nighter during finals week in college. Sure you can do it. Even zombies somehow eat.

It's your mind which begins to break. You realize that you're completely exhausted and tired of being needed. You realize your husband, although loving and helpful, will never be able to fully substitute for you. There is no equity, as much as you both may want there to be. He may agree to take the baby for an hourto let you get some sleep, but the baby will still cry and beg to eat. Your breasts will begin to hurt. You are hypersensitive to every noise from the baby, making it impossible to rest anyway...and once the baby finally settles down, despite the fact you said you never would, you check every 20 minutes to make sure the little one is still breathing while dear hubby snores soundly in bliss.

Clearly, he is not as hypersensitive as you.

It is at this point you begin to compile a Letter to God on how this whole process could really be improved and how ridiculous it is that as the mother you had to suffer through morning sickness, exhaustion, the mood swings, bloating like a beached whale, the pain of labor, pushing an 8-and-then-some-pounder out, and all the other little inconveniences no one tells you about (like sitting down after having a baby) only to have to be the sole feeder and primary 24 hour caretaker of a little being. Really, be it by evolution or design, it could be done better. Why can't we be penguins?

The physical capability is there. An hour of sleep feels like a day at the spa. It's the mindset which is harder to change, and changing it is the essential component to staying sane.

After a few days, I decided to just camp out in front of the TV. Turn on the most mind-numbing, guilty pleasures (All, unsuprisingly, on E! I've kept up with the Kardashians and even delved into Holly's World). Relax. Let go of pre-conceived notions of what "should" be happening. Be thankful that my baby is healthy enough to ask for food. Be glad that she's eating frequently enough to grow. Recognize this is just how it is. Accept her. Accept me. If I've got to stay up all night, I might as well just "float like a cork."

It's not unlike adjusting to a new culture but without the potential stomach issues.

And finally, enjoy the feeling as she falls asleep nestled in your arms...so calm. So sweet. So, so relaxing...you can't help but nod off...until you startle yourself awake in a panic that you'll smother her, that is.

Om Veronica

There is something about having a child which makes you re-evaluate yourself, your life, and your interests. This blog has sat abandoned for what has become years instead of months. It became a small, but ignorable, pang of guilt. I'd loved blogging, but Facebook came around to let me share interesting news items..and I was hit by a severe case of writers block accompanied by an extreme existential funk.

The funk hasn't cleared. My career is...not. I'm pursuing a masters degree in a field I enjoy but fear will lead nowhere. I'm working barely part time in an enjoyable job but which is essentially the same position I had 8 years ago. Had all my work and development and professional growth been in vain?

Admittedly, I did not fight the funk very hard. I cannot explain why.

A year ago I grappled with anxiety knowing that I've done my best at school and work, but felt like a failure for never really being able to define what I wanted to do with my life. I was jealous of friends who had jobs which took them around the world or challenged them with interesting projects.

Was I wasting my life?

Then I got pregnant...which is where you'd expect me to say everything came into focus, and I realized the purpose of my life. Not true-- but it's been a compelling journey, not at all what I expected, and it's mostly forced me to look at who I am, who I want to be, and not what I am. Motherhood, which started well before birth, caused me to question whether or not I was living the lessons I wanted to pass to my child.

And the answer has been yes and no.

It has also inspired me to write which I've missed so much. This may evolve into a "mommy" type blog, a turn off to some surely, yet I hope it keeps some people's interest.I'll most likely document what's going on with Veronica, who has taught me much in the way of patience in her 6 weeks of life.

Mostly, I hope it allows me to express myself and resurrect a part of me which has stagnated.