While I adore my newborns, and could sit and cry over the fact that this stage is so fleeting, I do struggle for the first few weeks postpartum. The first hurdle for me is always staying in bed for a week. I am not sure that I have ever made it close to the two weeks that is recommended. There is a fine line there, preserving my physical well being, giving my body time to heal, while trying to guard my mental health as well. During the first couple of days after Silas was born I made the mistake of including Canning for a New Generation: Bold, Fresh Flavors for the Modern Pantry in my bedside pile of books.
Between that book, and all the strawberry recipes I needed to try, and the fact that Jonny and the boys were picking quart upon quart of strawberries each day that needed to be preserved, I ended up making strawberry jam two days after Silas was born. (Don’t tell my midwife!) Jonny did all the prep work, and all I did was sit on a stool and stir, and then pour the jam into jars. Not much different than sitting in bed, right?
The next day it was time to try the out of this world delicious strawberry lemon preserves from the above mentioned book, and I lamented the fact that I only had two organic lemons and was only able to make one batch. Over confident, the following day I went on to make strawberry syrup and strawberry butter (all with Jonny’s help of course) and ended up exhausting myself and doubling the cloves in the strawberry butter. It tastes lovely, but makes your mouth go numb.
That night lying in bed with chills, I realized how foolish I was to be up so much that day and vowed to stay in bed for the next couple. This task was made easier by the fact that strawberry season is at it’s end. Tuesday morning though, I woke up in a state of sheer despair. Suddenly life had no meaning; all was lost. I did my best to talk myself through the fact that I would probably feel better in an hour, that these feelings would pass. I drank a cup of coffee.
Jonny that morning took the time to search for a recipe for pumpkin cream cheese muffins especially for me. When he proudly presented to me three muffins on a plate, I took one look at them and burst into tears. “Why are they so light?” I asked. He explained, much as I feared he would, that he had used white flour, because we ran out of soft white wheat (we grind our own) and he wasn’t sure if he could use spelt.
“But white flour isn’t healthy, and we need to eat a healthy breakfast,” I cried.
Poor Jonny. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with me. I am not sure why I chose that morning to decide that eating white flour was going to cause the end of the world as I knew it. I assure you I am not that uptight about what I eat all the time. White flour has it’s place.
That evening was the boys’ rain gutter regatta race at Cub Scouts. I decided that it wouldn’t hurt to go, and might do me some good. Gabe won the whole thing-he was the champion, and he tried not to smile too big. I cried. Jonny was amused, and exclaimed as he often does when I cry at a time like that (because he honestly doesn’t realize that he is supposed to pretend he doesn’t notice): “Ginny! Are you crying?!”
“Jonny, I had a baby less than a week ago and Gabe just won the dang rain gutter regatta. So yes, I am crying.”
And here I am one week postpartum, and today I felt really good. A close friend had my girls over to play for the entire afternoon. I let myself do a little light housework. I sat down to practice piano for the first time in a week. I took a walk outdoors this evening with my camera because Seth declared that the clouds over our house were rare: “Cumulonimbus with Mammatus.”
The light was really green, that kind of eerie pre storm light. The storm never hit us, but we did get to see these amazing cloud formations. They are called Mammatus from the Latin for breast, mamma. These formations can occur miles from the center of a storm, but they always indicate severe weather conditions (according to a book of Seth’s on weather.)
I spent a few more minutes looking my garden over, and feeling thankful that our temperatures will drop out of the upper nineties tomorrow and maybe Jonny can get all these melon plants in the ground. I am so glad that I did all the last minute planting that I did in the days before Silas was born. Now I am just wishing that it would rain. Things are getting dry here.
And finally, I took a few minutes to talk to my cats who always gather at dusk waiting to be fed their evening meal.
(Nicodemus and Shosta)
(Intruder and Jinx)
They aren’t sure if they are friends or enemies.
(Churchill)
Today felt almost normal. And just look at that baby. I do believe he’s my sweetest yet.
p.s. I am back to my old banner, just until I get a good photo with all six of my children in it. In the meantime, I just love that old photo too much to part with it.
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