Belly to Belly, Heart to Heart

My baby girl is a little over 6 months old and this morning was the first time I consciously not only was mindful but remembered that feeling of mindfulness, its beauty and its peace, and most of all, its preciousness. Sure I’ve been mindful in the past 6 months, and before that since whenever my last post was (which I just realized as I post this entry was an entire YEAR ago--yikes!). But I think these mindful moments have been few and far between, and if they entered my mind, the thoughts soon drifted away like so many other things do unless I write them down. We’ve been pretty much doing the survival thing instead of focusing on the beauty of being present these past 6 months … new baby, houseguests, terrible threes tantrums, lack of sleep by everyone in the house, separation issues, househunting (and buying!!) … the list can go on and on. But today I was given such a gift, the rare opportunity for my baby girl and I to be alone together and to nap together. Matt worked in Kalev’s school and Aviella and I had an hour to lay together in bed. Sadly, I didn’t manage to sleep (too much on this always active mind), but I am glad that one of the many thoughts was the highlighting of this wonderful, special and fleeting moment. This moment of mindfulness didn’t erupt in bright shiny lights, but instead reached out and surrounded me with its soft warmth. My beautiful baby girl, the warmth of her body permeating my skin, our bellies pressed together so that each breath pushed her adorable rounded tummy closer to mine, our hearts beating next to each other, her delicious milky breath against my nose, and those beautiful, absolutely perfect fingers moving from my breast to my face, where I could softly kiss them without waking her up. I think there is almost nothing better than holding your sleeping child. And that miracle, that blessing, and that absolutely perfect beauty of this opportunity touched me in that moment. I focused on our joint breathing, the feeling of our bodies against each other, the wonderful singular smell of baby, and the craziness of the past six months melted away as I allowed myself to not only concentrate on all these feelings, but to hold them in my mind and heart long enough to write about them and to hopefully remember them in the minutes, days, hours and weeks of busy living to come. To many more beautiful moments of living in the present ...

My Favorite Morning Ritual

I am a showerer. I need to take a shower every morning or I don’t feel awake and ready to face the day. Showering can also be a great time to practice mindfulness. You’re cocooned in your little stall, away from outside distractions. Your mind can focus. You can also work in one of the mindfulness practices that we tried in our childbirth class—closing your eyes and concentrating on what you feel, hear and smell. The hot water pounding against your skin, the smell of soaps and shampoos, hearing the water hit the tub floor. While I was on maternity leave my daily shower became my me time. I took those 15 minutes to feel refreshed, both mentally and physically. I thought about my baby, my family, the day, as well as how good it felt to just be in the water.

Since I went back to work we’ve been taking a family shower in the morning. First we had Kalev sit at the foot of the tub in his super cute little baby tub. Then, when he was able to safely sit on his own, we threw the tub out and he got to sit and crawl and play in the tub as we got ready for our day. When we made this transition, Kalev added his own daily requirement: nursing in the tub after he was washed and before he had to get out and face the dreaded business of getting a diaper put on him. At first I was flustered: I didn’t have time to nurse for 10 minutes in the shower! I had to get out, get everyone dressed, fed, lunches prepared, diapers put together, and out the door to work. But when you parent by letting your child’s needs guide you, it becomes a very freeing experience. I adapted. So I started nursing at the end of every shower. And I started to love and appreciate this very special time I got with my baby. Just as the shower had always been a way to practice mindfulness for me because of its isolation from the outside world and the steam and heat creating a lovely little sauna of peace, nursing in the shower became a mindfulness practice I could enjoy with Kalev. As he curled in my arms and looked up at me through eyelashes spiked with water, I could stare into his eyes and just focus completely on him and how wonderful it was to be with him. Normally when we nurse it’s to satisfy a need—he’s hungry, it’s time to sleep. There can be a pressure there to make sure we get to the finish line of whatever goal it is. But here, in the shower, it’s 10 minutes of just being together. He’s already nursed when we first woke up so it’s not about satisfying hunger, but just about comfort. It also gives me a set, regular time to stop and sit still, something I don’t do a lot. And it’s warm and cozy, something everyone loves. Sometimes Kalev and I talk to each other, but mostly I just look into his beautiful eyes and think about how blessed I am to have this time with him, just me and him in our bubble. In this bubble I’ve noticed his hazel eyes have changed a little bit to a light brown, that his toenails need to be cut, that he’s gotten taller. I also get to laugh as he raises his eyebrows at me—his sign for saying, “Hey, how are you?” And I get to smile as he pats my cheek as he looks directly into my eyes—his sign for saying, “I love you Ima.” These 10-minute bubbles of love have been priceless—I’ve felt present and at peace, my two main goals right now, and I’ve gotten to share this feeling of contentment with my baby.

Monday morning Kalev only nursed for a minute at the end of our shower. He’s followed this pattern for the rest of the week. The first day I was surprised. Now, as it’s been a week, I’m sad. I guess he’s moving on. The 10-minute ritual I thought was annoying at first, I grew to love and look forward to. Now I’m really sad that it might be over. I knew intellectually that the bubble wouldn’t last forever, that this was a special time that would transition at some future date. But emotionally I wasn’t prepared for my baby to already be ready to let it go, when I am not yet ready. So as I think about my favorite morning ritual, I try not to be too sad as I remember the lessons it gave me: take a breath before getting annoyed, what you think might be a frustrating change to routine might hold unexpected treasures, enjoy the opportunity to be mindful in daily tasks, share your feelings of love, peace and contentment with those you love, and cherish the bubbles of love you have because they are over way too quickly. I’ll greatly miss this morning ritual, but I look forward to discovering the next one, and I am so happy to have a guide as wonderful as Kalev.