a look in the mirror

Since she is crawling all over me- literally, she is riding on my back right now- I have decided to blog tonight about Sawyer.  Sebastian had his turn, now it's hers. 



Sandy toes.  My Sawyer Bean.



If Sebastian is my miracle baby, Sawyer is my million dollar baby.  Actually $7500.00 baby.  That is approximately how much it cost us to get her.  Granted, most of that was through our benefits and it doesn't include the mileage and gas that a daily ride to Hamilton takes, but it is a rough estimate.

I got pregnant with Sebastian right away.  About a month after I stopped taking the pill.  Easy as pie.  Sawyer was a little more difficult.  I should have known that she would always present a challenge to me. :) 

We tried to have Sawyer for about 5- 5 1/2 years.  We started talking about a new baby when Sebastian was about 18 months old, and Sawyer was born about 2 months before he turned 7.  Long time.  Now, granted through some of that, we thought we might have to put the kibosh on another baby.  We didn't know what was up with Sebastian, and how much care he would need.  We didn't think it would be fair to bring a new baby into a family where we simply didn't have the time for them.  So, once we knew that Sebastian would have at least a little bit of independance, we decided to go for it.  I was getting older (I was 28 when Sebastian was born), and I have always had "female difficulties."  So I figured we were in for the long haul.  I saw a specialist in St. Catharines for about 2 years- about 18 months longer than I should have.  I had my miscarriage when I was with him.

Now, I understand the physics and reasons behind miscarriages.  For some reason or another, most times, the baby isn't viable, and it is nature's way of taking care of business.  I have talked to women who have had miscarriages, and were very matter of fact about it.  Especially early on, they sometimes seem to be very accepting and have the ability to understand and move on.

That wasn't me.

After years of peeing on the stupid sticks, I finally had one that had 2 lines.  FINALLY!  In true Anita fashion, I took 3 more.  All positive.  I was happy, very happy.  But I felt strange- not physically, but mentally.  I didn't believe that it was true.  I wanted to talk to a doctor.  I didn't really want to tell anyone.  Now, in hind sight, I think I knew it wasn't a keeper.  Geoff had finally talked me into telling our families.  I lost the baby about 4 days later. 

I cried for days.  I took 2 days off work- which is unheard of for me (at my last job, I went 14 years with 1 sick day.)  I didn't want to talk to anyone, about anything.  I truly wanted to be left totally alone.  It was weeks before I could talk about it without crying.

Anyway, after that, we moved to McMaster and the good doctors there.  They got to work, got me tested, got Geoff tested.  When we finally got cooking, I started injecting myself every day.  I would drive 45 minutes to 1 hour every morning, to Hamilton.  I would give a blood sample, have an internal ultrasound, and then get my medication assignment for the day.  Then I would drive 45 minutes to 1 hour back, and start work.  And I did all of this with no one but Geoff knowing.  I ended up telling my mother after a little while, because it was just too hard to keep the secret from everyone.  I had to tell work something, because a couple of times I would hit traffic and be late for work.  We did artificial insemination twice.  The first time didn't take, because Geoff's "sample" wasn't viable.  The second was our last attempt.  We had maxed out all our benefits.  I was physically and mentally exhausted.  I was tired of this being everything in our lives.  We already had Sebastian, who was and is fucking awesome.  We had a family.  We didn't need to do this.  So, after this one last attempt, we were packing in the baby wagon, so to speak.

Of course, it worked.

my sunshine girl

It gave me no small amount of stress, when I thought about what we had done.  I am not an overly religous person.  But I do believe in a higher power.  And I was worried about what might happen, if we were messing with God's plan.  God obviously made it difficult for me to get pregnant for a reason.  And we were fucking around with nature's plan.  What if I gave birth to the next Hitler, the Hitler that nature tried to prevent?  What if the baby was deformed, or handicapped?  I knew I could handle that, with Sebastian- but is that fair to the baby????  You  can see how my thoughts went.

As it is, she's perfect.  Uber-perfect.  The second love of my life.  I think she is also destined to be my arch-nemisis, but that's for another day.

My birth experience with her was everything I had ever hoped and wished for.  It was everything that Sebastian's birth wasn't.  It was natural and wonderful and messy and loud.  I wasn't ashamed or inhibited.  I owned it.  I have never done anything before or since that made me feel so fully powerful.  It is a memory I will treasure for the rest of my life. 



Daddy and daughter



From day one, I loved her, and all my experiences with her.  I breastfed her, something I didn't do with Sebastian.  We would lay in bed and cuddle all day long- for about the first week.  Then I had to kick it into gear and get moving.  I sometimes wish I had milked that for a bit longer.  Ah well.

And now...well, she's my little girl.  She is independant and strong.  She wants to see and do and have everything.  She idolizes her daddy and her brother.  The cutest thing I have ever seen is her imitating everything that Sebastian does, just over his shoulder. 



She gives the biggest bear hugs.  She screams for me when I come in the door after work.  She hugs my knees and calls me "mum-mum".  I fucking love it.



heartbroken



She loves to colour.  Some of my favorite times are laying on her floor and colouring princess pictures with her.  She is a girly girl, but also tough as shit.  She loves so much, and her feelings are easily hurt.  When she is sad, she is devestated.  She is going to drive me crazy.  I just know it.  But if we make it through that, we will be good friends.



She is smart.  So frigging smart.  She can figure things out by looking at them.  She will try and try and try, until she can work or get or open whatever it is that she wants.



Belly laughs



I love her eyes.  They are huge and blue and beautiful.  I love her hair.  It is crazy and red and wild and soft and smells like summertime.  I love her hands.  They are always sticky and dirty, because of the exploring she is always doing.  I love her teeth.  They are tiny and perfect.  I love her laugh.  She snorts and trills and chuckles, and none of them are lady like, but all of them make me laugh when I hear them, no matter how pissed off I am. 

She just went to bed.  I miss her already.

Rosie N. Grey

The N stands for noodlebug.