So. . . It's been a while since I've posted. Apologies all around.
Part I: Mommyblogging
First order of business: new Lucas photos, courtesy of Mr. Trillwing. Lucas is as darling as ever. You can't see it in the photos, but we're worried he's going to be a redhead. It would explain the absence of eyebrows.
I've been thinking a lot about motherhood. Of course, that's not too hard to do when you have a four-month-old, and especially when he's your first child.
I love being a mom. While some people resent that their children distract from their other responsibilities and leisure activities, I resent my work for taking me away from my little guy. I'm not sure I could be a full-time SAHM who doesn't at least freelance on the side (I need some kind of mental, if not intellectual, stimulation), but I certainly could spend many, many hours a day just watching Lucas soak up all the wonders of his environment.
And the good news is that Pete, while he thrives when he has a lot of work to do, also has accepted that fatherhood is an essential part of his being. He who never remembers his dreams related this one from last night: Pete gets a job at Dreamworks, and is being shown around the office and studios by one of the triumvirate. As he's learning about his new gig, he realizes he'll have to find someone to take care of Lucas all day long. He realizes that although he'll now be able to hire a nanny, he must quit his new job immediately and return to working a relatively modest home office job so that he can raise his son himself.
I love Mr. Trillwing!
I think sometimes of how we almost missed having Lucas, that—to be horribly blunt—the right sperm and right egg might not have connected to make our wonderful boy. I mustn't think too hard on this reality, lest I become a member of the full quiver movement, that belief, to quote Monty Python, that every sperm is sacred and, by extension, every fertile egg a kajillion times so.
Part II: Meta-motherhood
I have a frightening number of friends who have either not been able to conceive or have only done so after much struggle and heartache. After reading portions of Our Stolen Future last quarter, I'm saddened that much of this difficulty in conceiving or bringing a pregnancy to term may be the result of our carelessness with our everyday lives, with the toxins and plastics that surround us. And of course, the fact that women are waiting later and later to try to conceive makes the whole process even more hit-and-miss.
What's most frightening about this, to me, is that a woman rarely knows she's going to have difficulty conceiving until she tries to do so. Most of us don't know the chemical load of our own bodies. If women in our families have had difficulty conceiving, or if we've had some earlier illness or have an ongoing condition that makes conceiving and carrying difficult, then that's sad, but at least we have a heads-up before we try to conceive. Instead, so many women are blindsided by their difficulty in bearing children.
I will never, ever take for granted how easy it was for us to bring Luke into our lives.
On a related note, on the occasion of her 35th birthday, Profgrrrrl shared some thoughts on not being a mother but wanting to have a family. It's a terrific post that bolsters my feelings of gratitude for my own family. I wish her well.
Coming soon: Part III, Meta-mommyblogging