June

We recently celebrated several milestones. Our thirteen year anniversary. My husband's first father's day as a father, without his father. The baby sleeping through the night minus one wakeup most nights. Four teeth. Almost crawling.

Things have slowed significantly at my job. Covid affected the budget so they cut our salaries. There is less work also because of covid and the new tasks I was supposed to take on after returning from maternity leave are nearly non-existent. What little work we are doing is from home. Yet for some reason they want to have us phasing back to working in the office. Staggered at first "to prepare for a full reopening in the fall." I fought back on this because I said I felt unsafe to return to work during a spike in cases across the country. There wasn't even a mask policy in place until I brought it up. Conversations are up in the air but they don't seem to be making exceptions. I feel like I need to find another position. It makes me feel guilty to want a different job when 40 million people are unemployed but these are the times we're living in. I have an MBA and years of experience and even though I love parts of my job I've had countless times I felt the need to consider leaving. It always came down to needing the flexibility for fertility treatment. Maybe now is the right time to leave. Find a new place and have time to prove myself before needing flexibility for future treatment when we decide to pursue #2.

We haven't been to daycare since they last shut down on March 13. We've been back to get his stuff - lined up in the parking lot, popped the trunk, and one of his teachers put a bag in. I brought him along and they waved and cooed through the closed window. It was bittersweet. Even though he was only in daycare 10 weeks, I could tell the teachers loved him. They are not considering reopening until September. When I was asked by the director if we plan to come back my knee-jerk reaction was that I don't want to send him to daycare until there's a vaccine. I held back from saying that and said that it all depends on our jobs: whether we're still employed, working from home, how many hours. I know it's not any kind of definitive answer but I don't think anyone can give one these days.

Baby loves eating. He's long and super active so weight gain is slow but I think we're on track to the goal of tripling birth weight by first birthday. He gets around by rolling, flipping from back to tummy to back over and over. His personality is coming through and he seems to understand things more every day. He makes it clear when he doesn't want to eat anymore. He knows he's not supposed to lick the carpet but tests boundaries daily. We're gearing up to babyproof everything.

Married couples were never meant to spend this much uninterrupted time together. There are signs that we've been together in quarantine too long. Easily frustrated at each other at little things, making a big deal of something that wouldn't necessarily make the highlight reel under normal circumstances, getting in each other's space. The usual. We're working on keeping the peace and trying to be kind. This is far from over and we know we're lucky to not be quarantining in loneliness.

I needed to make a change for my mental and physical health so I put the nutella away and started walking around the neighborhood. I had gained 10 lbs over the last few months and feeling down and dumpy. I'm not sure how much I can diet strictly while breastfeeding but I can definitely cut the sweets and snacks. Already down 5 so that's making me feel better. My husband and I decided to try to lose 10% of our body weight so that's our current summer project. 

I found a lump on my breast. I thought it was breastfeeding related and tried to massage it out but it just resulted in a bruised boob. I gave it some time before I went to get an ultrasound. The radiologist said it doesn't look concerning but wants me to come back in a month. 

We wanted to get away, I really miss the beach and the water, but I'm too nervous to be around people. I'm worried about hotels and vacation rentals and what-if catastrophes. I recognize the stay-at-home order was supposed to be temporary but while the country is still out of control with regard to covid cases I'm just not comfortable taking unnecessary risks. Maybe my first trip out of quarantine will be to Trader Joe's. 

May

I should have been writing as things were happening. I know memories fade fast but between working and simultaneously taking care of the baby, sporadic sleep, and maximum anxiety I just couldn't find the energy.

I had foot pain that started in February that I meant to get seen. Then quarantine happened and I just put it on the back burner. It got bad enough where I was waking up stiff all over with shooting pain coming from my right heel when I tried to put weight on it that I reached out to a physical therapist who did a telehealth appointment and told me about plantar fasciitis. That sounded like what I had. She gave me some exercises and stretches to do, along with ice and rest. There was no time for ice or rest but I tried keeping up with the stretches when I remembered and it was more manageable.

I know exercise will help but I have to find the mental energy for that. I barely have the energy to keep my shit together long enough to do the basics. We've been home since March and only been doing grocery delivery. No takeout, no breaks. It was hard enough getting dinner together nightly. Now we're eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner at home. Baby has started solids, which was terrifying at first, but now really fun to watch him explore and discover new foods. We're up to 3 teeth. Likes include sweet potatoes and squash; dislikes include avocado and new textures like cottage. I'll keep offering them to see if his tastes evolve.

Shavuot came and went. It was another holiday without shul or guests. When pesach started we didn't think we would still be doing this for shavuot. Yet here we are.

I've participated in plenty of the trends making rounds on instagram. That includes baking banana bread, trying out different bread recipes like crusty bread and pita, giving my husband a haircut, the whipped coffee, and probably a bunch others I'm not thinking about. I gained weight during quarantine which doesn't help my foot pain or mental state. I'm eating myself awake, I'm stress-baking, and we've prioritized things that require little to no prep, like cereal, which is basically empty calories. 

I'm still enjoying being home with him. As hard as it is to work while taking care of him, I'm grateful to have a job and I'm grateful I get to enjoy watching him reach milestones and get cuter by the day. He's sleeping a little better these days - still waking up at night but not as often and not for as long.

I've cried at the news of George Floyd's death and all the other horrible stories of mistreatment of black people that came to light. I've cried at the numbers that keep rising: cases, hospitalizations, deaths. I've cried at the mismanagement from leadership at the top. I've cried at the feeling of hopelessness that this will never end. I've cried at the uncertainty of what will happen with our income. I've cried in anxiety about our health and our family's health. I've cried that my baby's grandparents and cousins can only enjoy him via video chat or from a distance and missing the most delicious stage yet.

April

This was a really tough month. In late March my husband's father was hospitalized for not feeling well, thinking it was complications of his diabetes. Less than a week later he passed away from covid complications.

To say the situation was traumatic and surreal would be an understatement. It was the height of the epidemic in their state. There was a backlog at the funeral home so he couldn't get buried for two days (Jewish custom is to bury as soon as possible, most times within 24 hours or next business day depending on cemetery staffing availability). There was no funeral. Shiva, which is normally the period of seven days where the mourners gather and have visitors and meals delivered, was conducted individually by each mourner at their own home with no visitors. Calls and emails only. This was immediately before Pesach. I was working, making pesach on my own, and doing daycare while trying to be as supportive as possible to my husband who just lost his father.

Pesach came and went. It was a strange time. The weather had turned chilly and we still were fully quarantined. All shuls were closed. No guests at meals. We kept our phones on in case our families needed to reach us in an emergency. The baby was teething so no one was getting much sleep.

After the holiday, I took the baby for his 6 month appointment. The ped was only seeing patients under 2 for well-visits. As anxious as I was about leaving the house, with the baby no less, I didn't want to get off schedule with his shots. Only one parent was allowed. I masked up, put a cover over the stroller and got in the building. We had checked in over the phone before coming up. We got screened at the front, temp taken. When I got the ped office I rang the bell and was taken right to a room. No waiting room, no other contact with anyone else. The ped was fully garbed in PPE with gown, goggles, mask.

In other news, my period returned the second day of quarantine. Not sure if that was my body's plan all along while breastfeeding full time or if the stress of the situation had anything to do with it. Other than the doctor's appointment my only other time breaking quarantine was going to the mikvah. They were also taking precautions like asking everyone to wear masks and do all the preps at home.

All of our groceries are being delivered. If it can't get delivered we just don't need it. The news isn't getting any less intense and it's mentally exhausting.

Black pepper

I have been meaning to come on and update. Every time I feel like there's something to write about something else, bigger and more frightening, happens.

The start of March was calm like any other week. We were getting used to our new schedule. At 4.5 months he started getting at least one four hour long stretch of sleep per night. I was getting used to my new tasks at work. We were getting ready to celebrate Purim. My birthday came and went, uneventful as expected. My family was too busy, my husband's strong point isn't presents or surprises, and everyone just had too much going on. The usual. I tried to swallow my disappointment but there were the usual arguments.

My birthday was followed shortly by Purim. There were talks of large scale events being canceled but the whole idea of a virus was still very much back-burner news. It was business as usual with some casual maybe-I'll-get-an-extra-box-of-pasta kind of mindset at the store. March 11 was a turning point. It was the day after Purim. It was the day the World Health Organization declared the coronavirus a world pandemic. It was the day that toilet paper was suddenly worth its weight in gold. It was a Wednesday. The next day there were lines out the door at the supermarket. By Friday, we were told to take all of his stuff home because school was "closed next week" and we'll probably need the stuff.

The following Monday I made a second trip to the store and it was no less busy. That was the last time we were out in crowds. I've since filled up the cars with gas and taken out cash. It's two weeks later and we've placed delivery orders for groceries online but we're still waiting for them. We're ok for the most part. The first thing we ran out of is black pepper. I'm not running out to the store to buy it; and hopefully my pesach order for delivery will include it, unlike some of the other deliveries that were sent to friends with many items missing. I can't remember a time when I didn't have black pepper in the house and now it seems like such a luxury. We're obviously not suffering and I'm not complaining.

It's challenging to try to work full time while caring for a baby at home, trying to tag team between us. It's hard not to feel guilty trying to finish up an email when he wakes up from a nap and wants to play - knowing he's ok but still feeling torn. It's tough being in the house all day, every day and taking care of everything while trying to remain calm and accept the new normal. The images from the news are terrifying. We need to maintain some balance between being informed and overdosing on news. We're staying home, washing our hands, and praying for the sick and caretakers. It seems simple in theory and unfortunately the best we can do.

I almost feel guilty by how much I'm enjoying being home and taking care of him. I definitely wanted to extend my maternity leave but not at the expense of a world pandemic. I love being home in general and having my family with me makes it amazing. I wish we could see cousins and grandparents but for the time being it's just not worth the risk. The weather has turned so nice and it's beautiful outside so we take short walks around the neighborhood and hang out in the backyard every so often.

As challenging as it is to be cooped up inside terrified of the what-ifs, we know it's the best case scenario in a very frightening time. The images coming out of other countries hit hard, or even New York, are so scary.

Hope everyone stays home, stays well, and stays sane. We'll get through this together.

Feb 29

Not only is it a special calendar date but it also happens to be my Hebrew birthday. How fun!

Rolling

At just over 4 months old, we have our first roll from tummy to back. We've also hit the 4-month sleep regression. Where we once got 4 hour chunks of sleep, we're now back to waking every 2 to 2.5 hours. It's challenging to be a full time working, full time nursing mom, but we're making it work. My husband and I tag-team whenever possible and take shortcuts, like takeout or cereal. It's not ideal but I'd rather do that than worry about grocery shopping and cooking and dishes when I could be spending family time together.

It's still hard to leave him every day. I really enjoy the time we spend together. There's a balance I'm trying to find between wanting to capture every minute with videos and photos vs being fully present to play with and take care of him away from the phone.

When he falls asleep in the evenings at 645 or 7, that's when I go to sleep. It's just necessary for me to function. He gets his longest chunk of sleep (or used to before the aforementioned regression started) in the start of the night, so if I want any kind of chunk of sleep that's when I can get it. That usually means that I do my evening stuff, like preparing our bags for the next day, catching up on email, or laundry at like 2 in the morning. Usually I get my last sleep around the 4 am hour so by 7 pm I'm ready for sleep.

We had his 4 month checkup and shots last week. He was such a trooper. It hurts my heart to see him cry but I obviously know this is the best for him. He barely cried but was fussy for the next two days, just like with the 2-month shots. The ped mentioned starting solids. Optional for now and just a for-fun activity to get him used to a spoon and different flavors. I've read different thoughts about whether to start at 4-6m vs 6m and I don't get the controversy around the difference, especially if the doc green lighted it to start. I'm less confident about this than something like shots, which to me are absolutely clear, and so I rely on common sense coupled with medical advice. At this point we're sold on the idea, just waiting for the high chair to be ordered. There are so many choices that it kind of got put on the back burner until I have time to figure out the best option for us.

The other part of starting solids is the potential return of my period. I had my annual gyn appointment and of course the possibility of the next baby came up. My answer was that for now I just want to enjoy our baby. We waited so long for this that I don't want to jump right back into the roller coaster of ttc right away. Even given my age, turning 36 in March, I feel like it's not asking too much to give ourselves a year to purely just enjoy our miracle. We know all too well that it's not guaranteed to work, and we know that there are low lows that come with the high highs. I'm just not mentally ready for that. I also don't want him to ever have the feeling like he's not enough. It's almost as though starting to try for a second one seems greedy and selfish.

That's not to say we haven't thought about it. Do I have an ideal calendar planned out in my mind? Sure. Do I know that it's possible that it may not work out that way or at all? Of course. At the end of the day it all boils down to when my period returns. Not having it is almost like permission to not think about next steps, and possibly why I held on to breastfeeding when it got challenging in the beginning, since there's a definitely correlation for many women.

Overall, we're riding the wave and enjoying every minute.

Transfer Anniversary

One year ago we transferred our 8th embryo in our seventh transfer. It was the same day of the superbowl but not being sports fans I didn't know who was playing or who won.

A year ago we were that IVF couple with yet another transfer scheduled. Part of switching clinics helped restore some hope but I don't know how we kept at it. I know that quitting didn't feel like an option so we kept going. I'm so glad we did.

This time last year I was up at night because I was sad and anxious about the what ifs of this never happening for us. These days I'm up at night because of dirty diapers and chapped nipples and I couldn't be more grateful.

There are still tears. These days they are tears of gratitude and disbelief at how blessed we are. Sometimes it's tears of anxiety about what if God forbid something happens to him. Or us. Or someone takes him like we see on the news. Some say it's the "smidge of PPD" talking, but anyone who went through fertility treatment knows. This child was so very much wanted before he even existed. He is just the most delicious little guy. I'm not bias - it's just fact! :)

As hectic as life is trying to balance working full time and with an infant, I wouldn't trade it for anything. Picking him up at daycare every day is my favorite part of the day. My favorite is Fridays when we have the whole weekend coming up to spend together as a family.