Making my way back....

I have, in the last several months, begun to feel like I'm making my way back from somewhere I didn't even know I'd been.

When Luca was born 4+ years ago, it was joyous, in a way that was unique from our experience with Genevieve. Something about knowing how completely amazing this journey of having children really is, seemed to make Luca's arrival even more poignant. With Genevieve it was all a mystery, so many events and milestones that were "firsts" not only for her, but for us, too. We were overwhelmed with love for her and each other. With Luca, it was emphasized in a way, because we knew going how powerful it was going to be.

In all of the joy after Luca' arrival, there were certainly challenges that we had never faced before. First, he was born with a bacterial blood infection that required two weeks of extensive hospitalization. The first six months of his life he was medicated for reflux, and I went on a turkey, avocado, and bagel diet, since that was about all he seemed to tolerate. The reflux finally subsided, but then gave way to chronic ear infections. Our pediatrician's office had a close connection with us, as we traveled there no less than once per month, usually at least a couple visits being just a few days apart. Luca had tubes, of which one fell out the month after getting it in, and eventually the infections turned to sinus issues, though now they're back to ears again.

Probably the most challenging through this time was the lack of sleep. Luca was up EVERY night until at least two, two and a half. Rob and I would tag team him, though Luca actually preferred Rob. I had such a hard time sleeping through the crying as Rob was trying to appease him, that we often would both be up. Lots of hours, every night, every night, was spent rocking, shushing, nursing, bouncing, bouncing more, bouncing with a deeper sway....wow.

Oddly enough, you just find a way. We just found a way. We weren't really all that stressed, though I think I was more affected than I allowed myself to accept. I was tired, had troubles concentrating, had in many ways, relented to survival mode.

Luca is almost four and a half, and although we are still battling chronic ear infections, he at least now sleeps. I guess after three ruptured drums and countless nights of pain, his body finally found a way to override the sensations with sleep....for which we are thankful.

So here I am, four years later, and beginning to realize I'm not as tired. I can make a list again and feasibly accomplish a portion of it. Rob and I can go out for a night and it's not traumatic. We are beginning to feel like a sane family again.

But here I am, four years later, wondering where to go from here. I'm far more out of shape than I've ever been. When I attempt to exercise, it ends up in injury, since between my back, and now my stupid feet, I'm really struggling with "taking it down a notch." This is what my foot doctor said to me last week. He read me, and said, "Take it down a notch." I've never accomplished anything without going full throttle. It'll take longer, require more patience and stamina. This is not how I do things. I DO them. I take the shortest path and work REALLY hard. Slow and steady is NOT the name of my game. Sigh.

So I'm wondering, how do I start to focus on myself again, particularly in this area of losing weight and increasing my strength again. Small steps, right? I know this in my head. I'm terribly logical and could draft a plan. But I'm already annoyed with it.

Maybe I'll keep sorting out my thoughts here. We'll see!