the search for green, our first playdate and parade.

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in preparation for this past weekend, i toke a looksie into my (almost) organized closet. not one single green top! well, except for one–a long-sleeved striped thermal. which didn’t count, because i’m living in florida now. duh and ugh! i really need to weed out my wardrobe. again. i’m a tab bit of a hoarder, and sometimes it takes a few tries before i part with things. green is not one of those things i collect, obviously. our entire family is lacking that color of the rainbow, even though we really do like it.

so i did something pretty awesome–a quick run into target. why is it awesome, you ask?

  • i made a trip to target. not any target, but super target. while i could have easily spent an hour there.

i didn’t.

  • super targets in florida are waaaaayy better. so i could have technically gotten lost in those aisles for more than two hours.

but i still didn’t…

  • i picked up drinks for the kid’s st. patty’s day party.
  • i snagged a tee for izzie in the boy’s department–$3!!! and yes, i had my toddler in tow.
  • i was attempting a world record (for me at least). i was so determined, i didn’t look at the price or much of the graphic. all i knew, that it was green. at the cash register, the baseball tee rang up at $12! win again!

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i deserve a pat on the back. except, for 2 minor things….

  • #1. hubby toke on the responsibility of running after our very curious and active 20 month old. so, thanks for that sweetie. also, for acknowledging the challenge of shopping with a little one (and not wreaking the entire store).
  • and #2. it wasn’t until the next day, i realized something that made me giggle. the three-leaf clovers were precisely positioned over the girls. it seriously looked like pasties. not exactly the look i was going for.

still, it served it’s purpose…

i wore those pasties to our very first florida playdate last thursday. izzie’s of course, but i may have been slightly more excited. a group of lovely mamas and their little leprechauns celebrated and played at the park. we felt welcomed and grateful to be a part of the festivities. here’s a vine from that day (with accompanied mommy conversations in the background).

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a bird’s-eye view

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on st. patrick’s day, i made this for breakfast. then daddy–our very own patrick patryk. (he’s polish, not irish.) accompanied us to a small, artsy downtown parade. izabella’s very first one ever! there was lots of green attire (we repeated ours), red fire-trucks and some familiar faces too. we ran into a friend from our mommy and me group.

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new friends :)

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izzie’s bottle even matched

at that point, our tummy’s were growling. so what better day to have an authentic corned beef and cabbage, than on st. patty’s day?!

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see what i mean…pasties!

we walked around for a while, dodging the rowdy crowd and discovered a few consignment shops just as izzie fell asleep. i got lost in those aisles, for good measure ’cause i didn’t get to do it at target ;-)

then we headed back home, just as the sun was setting.

raquel

p.s – happy first day of spring!

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the cut has healed, but not the woman

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it all started in the bath.

it was the usual mommy and daughter ritual, (if and when we encounter a bathtub). “bathtub” you ask? yes, a good ‘ol fashioned tub. you know…a basin in the bathroom which holds water for bathing purposes? i’m not trying to insult your intelligence. although, i do sound pretty loony. like i’ve been living under a rock–kinda loony. well i sort of have in some respects. living in a teeny, tiny studio with a teeny tiny, stand-up shower can be….claustrophobic. we’ll just leave it at that. my experiences in our previous home will be left for another time. so as i was saying–bathtubs…be they at the grandparent’s or at a hotel, automatically light up our eyes. like woah! we’re so very grateful to have a fantastic one in our new florida rental. [chime in hallelujah song].

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if i shower or bathe, it’s impossible without hubby watching izabella or us girls getting lathered up together. in this instance, we exercised our good hygiene skills with the latter. izzie loves baths these days like a fish loves water. there we were, splashing, washing, blowing bubbles, giggling and best of all, bonding. then she points down below the water, underneath my belly button and above my ‘lady bits’. her little index finger pokes my skin. she scrunches her eyebrows with concern. her lips quivering. “dat..dat”, she says and continues with an “aww”. then she inches up closer to me. her hands now open, caress my scar. “boo-boo?”, she asks with sympathy. just like that, my inquisitive toddler discovered the evidence of my c-section. my heart felt heavy at the moment. anxiety and depression creeped into that garden tub of ours. the water once warm, became a little colder. i looked into those hazel eyes and told her that it was in fact a wound. this sweet child of mine, stood up and wrapped her arms around my neck. She sat back down and inspected it once again. “ouch mama!”, she exclaimed in the most genuine matter.

how do you explain to a nineteen month old it wasn’t so much physical, as emotional pain i endured? you don’t.

you just ensure her that you once got hurt, but you’re all better now. that’s along the lines of how i responded (minus the high-pitched-cutsey baby talk). honestly the whole “mommy is okay” was also about consoling myself. am i really, truly “okay”?

the answer to that is a big fat no.

having a cesarean section was the furthest thing away from my birthing plan. in fact, an epidural wasn’t even on there either. i’m not the epitome of strength, but i wanted to give this natural, spiritual, primal and empowering birth a shot. i was wholeheartedly committed. i was moved by ricki lake’s documentary ‘the business of being born’. then hypnobirthing caught my attention in a couple of youtube videos. i was intrigued so much so, i stuck my nose inside this book. i prepared as best i could with an eight week class. i had a midwife and a husband who supported my decision for a water birth.

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since the fifth month of pregnancy, i knew about my partial placenta previa. the news for me was one part concerned, one half denial, a quarter hopeful, and another frustrated. all in all, i tried my best to shove the entire “high risk” label to the very back of my brain. even so, the occasional panic would interrupt my zen. sometimes i’d get distracted during the relaxation exercises in our practitioner’s home basement. the only good thing about my situation was the frequent ultrasounds. i had so many opportunities to see baby growing and moving. it was also a reminder of just how stubborn my placenta was. specialists were measuring its position and the distance away from my cervix. sometimes i’d daydream of reaching in and manually moving it. (i know TMI! not the most pleasant visual)

what can i say? i was desperate and pretty obsessed with babies, birthing and breastfeeding in the most cliche/ idyllic matter. i wanted to be a mother since i could probably say the word ‘mother’.

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as i grew, so did my curiosity and desires to fulfill this rite of passage. ever since the sixth grade (not even exaggerating), i’d religiously watch episodes of tlc’s ‘a baby story’ with amazement and a tissue in hand. i was all like–“how do they do that?” or “how can i do that?” and “how will i endure this? there were a lot of “wows and awws” and “that’s what i want!” followed by “how beautiful“. it was the most intense and incredible thing i’d ever watched. not just on a television, but in person. i witnessed my sister’s all-natural birth. from the first surge (that’s hypnobirthing lingo for ‘ya! it’s an alternative word for contraction) to the final push. when the midwife placed my bare-naked, crying nephew on his mother’s exposed chest, i literally burst into tears. i mean ridiculously, hysterically bawling.

it was a miracle and it was breathtaking. i always hoped to experience it myself.

six, seven, eight and nine months went by. no progress whatsoever. “mrs. molczan, we’re scheduling you for a cesarean section in two weeks”. everything and everyone seemed to fade into the background. i felt as if i was in the charlie brown cartoon. gradually the protocol and procedures explained were sounding like gibberish.”so and so from here and there will be something something. blah, blah and blah. ummmm um um. errrrrr. something something and blah. blah blah. wha wah wha. okay–any questions?

my dreams officially escaped my grasp at the thirty-seventh mark. for the next fourteen days, i was anxious yet excited to meet our daughter. i was thankful for doctors and modern technology and their ability to detect life-threatening conditions. yet, defeat came along for a looooong ride. all my research, planning and efforts were pointless. my fears of major surgery would soon be a reality.

[my birthing/ delivery story would be appropriate here. i’ll also reserve that for yet another post.]

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this scar should be my badge of honor, but i’m not quite ready to wear it with pride. it has nothing to do with vanity, but of what it negatively represents. this incision is one which reminds me of the struggles izzie and i endured. everything from my birthing disappointment, my breastfeeding woes, her serve colic/ reflux troubles and my postpartum depression.

but this scar is also…

where my beautiful, healthy and happy little girl came out of. if i concentrate on that, maybe i can completely let go of my resentment. my c-section and the effects of the surgery were difficult to accept. it still is. even nineteen months after the fact.

it’s just going to take more time i suppose.

raquel

the other day…

we went to the park.

actually it was last thursday, the twenty-eighth of february. i remember so precisely because it was our move-in date. these are the pictures from a very happy day for our family. we met some lovely mothers and their kids. we also waited anxiously for a very important phone call. one which would allow us to receive the keys. not just any keys, but the ones to a place we’d call “home”.

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greetings from florida :)

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this dinosaur is a little questionable in my book. (he kinda resembles a very annoyed barney).

the other day after that…

// i really (honestly) planned on exercising. listen guys, i put my sneakers on and it wasn’t my chucks either. i was serious about getting rid of a few pounds. damn winter carb carvings! going to the gym with a 19 month old, didn’t work in my favor. [hashtag fail]

// izabella found a baby lizard in our den. i squeamishly let him out. i later learned they’re completely harmless (and i felt like such an idiot). ever since then, my daughter has been on a mission to find the little guy.

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observant eyes

// the unpacking was already getting old. don’t you sometimes wish you could snap your fingers, and everything would magically get done. i do! especially during the tedious  organization process of moving. then i admire my first ever walk-in closet and master bath. don’t complain, raquel. don’t.

// my husband, izabella and i video chatted with my sister, niece and nephew. it was so great to see their beautiful smiles. gosh, i miss them. you too, baby sis. we haven’t forgotten about you.

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“okay daddy. let’s move on. i’ve got things to do, places to go and people to see”

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watching the world through her eyes is an incredible gift.

i just can't get over these palm trees...even on a cloudy day.

i just can’t get over these palm trees…even on a cloudy day.

// it was “cold”. supposedly for the 8 days we’ve been down here. we’ve been told by several floridians, we brought the brisk weather with us. ’cause a high of sixty degrees is freezing [sarcastic face].

i think it’s hilarious. especially, since just today the northeast was slammed with a snow storm. brrr—makes me cringe just hearing about it. ohhh and did i mention it’s currently seventy-five and sunny in florida? ;-)

raquel