It's helping. So much.
The panic has abated. I'm still anxious, but not to a debilitating point anymore.
Which is good, because I've been in a bit of a chaotic craziness the last few days - losing a client (mom is a crazy alcoholic in the midst of divorce and fired me because I spoke to the husband's atty), losing my milk (and then having it come in crazy full force after taking an herb that then caused Owen to have a full blown gastrointestinal nightmare)....so in between speaking with lawyers and sending off resumes, Owen was projectile spitting up and blowing out diapers and screaming non stop...which, two weeks ago, would have felled me in one quick swoop. But I'm still standing, breathing, functioning. Go me!
This is a magical time in Owen's development. He is so uber-social - he loves nothing more than to have a conversation with someone - he mimics sounds (well, easy sounds, like "hi" or "oooh") and smiles at every person he meets, it's pretty damn cute and fun. He's turned into a pretty great and easy baby, provided he's not hungry, tired, or uncomfortable (it took me three months to figure that out? geez.) I realized today that I no longer resent it when E won't help me put Owen to bed, I actually get greedy and want that time with him all to myself! (Now, the 4 am wakeup is another story...)
giggling at grandma's house over christmas
My mom was over today and Owen was sleeping in my arms, mouth all agape and drooly...and my mom leaned in and kissed Owen and whispered, "You look so much like your big brother...."
It was so touching, so tender.
And he does, it's his mouth, his lips. When he falls asleep in my arms, milk drunk or because we've been bouncing on a yoga ball for 20 minutes, and his mouth falls open like that, he looks so much like Otis. It's pretty darn sweet and pretty darn heartbreaking all at once.
We went to visit my grandma today and she was having her hair done when we got there (she lives in an assisted living facility so the salon is right down the hall from her room). The stylist was cooing at Owen and asked us, "You guys just have one?" and E answered "Yes." I shuddered. It was not a moment to explain that well, sort of, just one, but two, but not two...
Moments like that eat away at my gut. For the most part, I am upfront and vocal about Otis. I always answer the "Is he your first?" question truthfully. But the, "you just have one?" question stumped me today. Damn, I miss him so much. It still boggles my mind. I am a broken record, I know this. It will always boggle my mind. I will always want him here. I will always fail at putting it adequately into words how desperately I miss him, how desperately I love him.