16 December 2011
I am literally still bouncing. At that stage where my mum thinks I'm a danger to myself, because I could just do ANYTHING and feel invincible! Look at this baby, though! How could I not be on a ridiculous high, drinking her in, breathing her, kissing her velvety softness all day long? I'm drunk on baby. :)
All day I hear a constant refrain of "can I hold her?" "It's MY turn!" "You held her last, it's not fair!" "I neeeed to hold my sister, she wants ME." They actually came to blows over her on the second day and then all of them were crying, heartbroken than I'd whisked her to safety (and that they'd hurt each other). Honestly. It's chaos. In a sweet way, I suppose: they all want to touch her every second of every day.
She loves to be with them, and is soothed by them more easily than by me most of the time. They sing to her. That picture after the birth where I'm nursing her and all three big girls are sitting beside us? They were singing. Talia listens intently with wide wide black eyes. Jenna found a jingly bell yesterday, and Talia's surprised intent little face went so still as she listened for that interesting sound. She has music right in her soul.
I am so surprised at myself, feeling so laid back about everything. Talia cries. A lot. Little mewly kitteny noises. Not screaming unhappy, just telling me; the world is strange, I'm not sure about this, I forgot where the milk is, my tummy is uncomfortable, what the heck is that cold feeling, help me free my hand from my blanket!
When Rowan cried, I used to feel it as accusation - You are Failing, Why Can't You Meet My Needs Properly, Bad Mama. Any time someone else had to soothe her even for a moment it physically hurt me. With Talia, right now, I hear her crying and she's talking to me, and sometimes all she needs is to be heard - the world is strange and I'm not quite at home here yet, hold me and hear me and be present - and we're OK.
One afternoon the midwives came and it was just me plus four girls, and the three bigger ones were leaping on and off the furniture fake-laughing pretending to be Fae, and I didn't even feel the need to apologise for the chaos, I just laughed and said, "Tell me, I'll adjust to this soon, right?"
What else, what else? Talia likes to be held *tightly*, have her feet held, and her head stroked. Odd, these little things, noticed and remembered. How different and the same this baby is, what is universal, what is familiar from her siblings, and what is just her. Wow. I catch myself thinking, I can do this, I *know* this mothering, deep down in my bones. Not at all like how I've been emotionally this past six months or so.
I'm not staying in, babymooning, and nothing else. I thought I would want to, this time, but I just can't, I need the air and to be available for the others too - and the easiest way for that to happen is popping Tali in a sling (the first time I put her in one she sighed deeply and went right to sleep for two hours) and heading outside. Still, we have time, precious time. Hours and hours of gazing and nursing and feeling utterly in love.
Oh, and she let her cord go during the night. I wondered, then, if we'd kept her placenta attached, what would be the same and different. Would she have minded more or less? She seemed to be really uncomfortable for a while, and then cried inconsolably for a minute or two, and I noticed when she was calm that she was cord-less. It seems so soon, all so quick, everything passing.
I have so much to tell! But living it is taking a lot of attention. ;) I put words around these things, I *need* to put words around these things, the urge is so strong I sit with my journal propped on her head...
Life is amazing and wonderful. I might get around to feeling tired next week. I just can't fit it in right now!