Post-Christmas

The Alexanders thoroughly enjoyed their first holiday season as a family. The few days leading up to it were emotionally tumultuous for me. We bought Lilah her little swing set (eBay for 50.00!), a baby doll, a handmade teddy bear, a small bead maze, and a toy hammer and owl for her stocking. When some people at work would ask me what we got her, I excitedly told them, having spent many hours hunting and bargain shopping for age-and-developmentally appropriate toys. We bought her things we could afford that she wouldn't just grow out of in a month. More than one gave me a raised eyebrow and started reciting the literally thousands of dollars they had spent on their children. One co-worker of mine actually bought her 10 month old a tiny four wheeler. She can't even walk! Another "just" gave her 10 year old son 500.00 to spend, since he put off making a list until the last minute. Yet another "had to spend almost a thousand dollars on Alexis (her 11 month old granddaughter) so we would be the favorite grandparents. Gotta out-do Katie's parents, ya know!" I came home in tears more than once, feeling completely inadequate as a mother and sure Lilah was going to look at me in disappointment on Christmas morning, Santa having betrayed her. After many pep-talks about the real meaning and spirit of Christmas and being a good parent from Dano, Kim, and Ann, I was just barely feeling like a decent parent.

Needless to say, Christmas morning came and went without said disappointment. Lilah was presented with her stocking treats, and we had to take a break for almost an hour. She was that enamored with them, especially her toy hammer. Larry has nickname her "Thor", since she can rarely be spotted without hammer in hand. Lilah chased the cat around with the hammer for awhile, then we sat down to the rest of her presents. She finished opening the bead maze, and it was over. Dano opened her other two presents for her, because she was so overwhelmed with a maze, a hammer, and an owl. Even now she hasn't fully experienced all her toys. Her attention span just isn't long enough. I felt sorry for those other poor babies who got thousands of dollars worth of presents on Christmas morning. They must have ended up overstimulated and overwhelmed.


Today was her 9 month appointment, and her last appointment with Dr. Hatfield, who is leaving the practice to stay home with her kids and spend more time with her family. She told us via letter about a month ago, and I promptly burst into tears upon reading it. She is such an amazing physician and patient advocate. If she told me, "I think Lilah would benefit from eating nothing but candy for 24 hours," I would trust her. Obviously that's an extreme, but never have I met a doctor who is so in tune with her patients' physical, emotional, and spiritual needs. She spent over an hour at one of Lilah's appointments talking with me about my parents and how my issues with them could be affecting my ability to feel like a good mother and enjoy Lilah. She was present for 4 straight hours of Lilah's delivery, and was on the L&D floor for 100% of it. Any OB/GYN I've ever seen has run into the L&D room to "catch" the baby at the tail end of the proceedings. Many times, the RN ends up delivering most of the infant. "Stuck in traffic!" one doc called out jovially during my clinicals, still chewing food in his mouth. Dr. Hatfield drove to MGH as soon as my RN told her my water had indeed broken and stayed there all night until Lilah was born. She coached me through labor like a mother would, and has applauded my choice of a husband/father every time I've seen her. "It's very rare to see a father who is so interactive and genuinely excited about his relationship with his new baby from the very first second. You're so lucky to have him."


The day after Lilah was born, she came up to the hospital and spent 30 minutes in our room just holding Lilah and talking to her. She even discharged us earlier than is recommended (22 hours after giving birth!) because I told her I couldn't eat the hospital food and the dayshift staff wouldn't allow me to co-sleep with Lilah or nurse her for comfort. She's been supportive when she's needed to be, and stern and inflexible when necessary. She wasn't afraid to say, "I really don't know" about Lilah's corneal adhesion and send us to a specialist, and she listened when I insisted there was something irregular in her pupil. Last night, I dreamt we went to her appointment today and she had already left the practice and we couldn't find any flowers to give her as a thank you, and her replacement doctor was mean and didn't even read that Lilah was a girl in her chart! Apparently, I was more anxious about losing her than I had realized.


We drove through a blizzard to the appointment, stopping only to buy a live white lily for her. Lilah was still mid-16lbs and is now 28 in. That's 50th percentile for height and 30th for weight. If you're plotting her on a breastfeeding chart she's in the 60th for weight, so I'm not concerned. Lilah got two immunizations, but didn't even flinch! She just scowled blackly at the nurse who did it and complained at her. She never ceases to amaze me. As soon as Dr. Hatfield opened the door to the exam room, Lilah acted very strangely. She took one look at her, gave this loud and excited squawk, and held out her arms for her insistently. Normally Lilah is friendly with people, but not like this. Dr. Hatfield took her from me, and Lilah nestled into her arms and spent the remainder of the appointment perched contentedly on her lap, periodically laying her head on her chest. I was really amazed at her odd behavior, but it was darling. It was almost as if she could sense she would never again see the woman who brought her into the world. The rest of the appointment went as they usually do. She said not to worry a bit about Lilah's plentiful bruises or what I call her growing habit of getting "ballsy" and overestimating her abilities. She also told me it was absolutely fine that she consumes such large amounts of food and water as often as she does, and that she was nursing an adequate amount for her health and weight. She asked if my parents had met Lilah yet, and I told them they still aren't interested, but my brother Nick and I were talking now and he had seen her. She shrugged it off and said it was their loss, and that Lilah has all the grandparents she needs in Dano's parents, having met and been pleased with them at the hospital. She thanked us for the beautiful lily and said her kids would really enjoy seeing it. She told us to take care and left, quietly closing the exam room door behind her, although the sound seemed to echo inside my head.


I wanted to run after her like a child. I wanted to hug her and thank her and tell her I really don't think I could have gotten through so many things without her. I wanted to cry and let her know what a beautiful person she is, and a blessing to all her patients, clearly called to life as a healer. I wanted her to feel responsible for my empowering and magical pregnancy, labor, and delivery of my only child, and let her know how that experience has made me so much more confident as a person and parent to fiercely take on the rest of the world. How that experience has completely transformed me from a scared little girl - one who still relapsed now and then into needing her mother -  into a woman - complete and whole - and a mother to a little girl who will never know what it's like to go without one.

I wanted to tell her all that, but I sat frozen and still under the florescent lights. Instead, I gave her a single white lily in hopes that it would say enough.