Sitting Up and Falling Down

For some reason it comes as a surprise - most nights at about 2:30 AM - that I am, in fact, going to die. You'd think I would be used to this idea...or, at the very least, trained to ignore it...and I was, once upon a time, before I had a baby. In the last few months, however, I find myself increasingly experiencing the chest compressing dread of the coming extinction of my consciousness.

This sounds over the top...but I'm NOT being melodramatic...that's the trouble. This fear is a totally rational fear. Look, if I were terrified of sharks or even plane rides...those are basically irrational, meaning the chances of any kind of harm coming to me from boarding an airline or splashing around on the beach are incredibly low. I think I could calm myself partially with reason there...but it is 100% guaranteed that I will die, that my essential being will just shut off like a light...and I will go into...nothingness. Brrr. Okay, to be fair, phobias of sharks and planes and small spaces are also not really responsive to reason. And, a fear of death that is overwhelming your life...or at least the sleeping portion of it is not really rational.

Along with this, I also have fears that Ila will contract some terrible illness or lose a limb in a horrible car wreck...or secretly get a concussion, go to sleep and never wake up. I don't feel these thoughts are out of control...but it's wild how they will just pop into my head. I understand why I might have knee-weakening and heart-clenching thoughts of something happening to Ila. She's this new, wonderful little being that I love deeply...and thoughts of something hurting her are understandable horrifying. However, what's the deal with this fixation my brain has on my ultimate demise? It makes me a little queasy even to refer to it! At these times, I just feel the reality of the end of me...and how quickly I will get there (time goes alarmingly fast)...what IS this?

I was asking other new mothers about these things and one of my friends reminded me of something I read a while back - dopamine is suppressed while you are breastfeeding. Well, dopamine is one of the neurotransmitters that regulates fear - whether we perceive it, etc. Interesting. Ultimately, I cannot change the fact that I will die (I know; obvious...yet surprisingly shocking in the wee smas of the morning), so I have to change my relationship to this fact. Ugh. Sounds like work; breathing, being present, blah blah blah. Can't somebody just fix this, for god's sake? I guess it is a little helpful to tell myself that this focus on this fear of death is really just a neurotransmitter problem - that the fear is, essentially, a product a what's happening with my hormones. We'll see.

People like to tell me to enjoy each minute of this parenthood journey because it goes so quickly. Well, I think I'm a little too aware of that fact right now. I am, on a daily basis, sort of horrified by how quickly time goes...

That being said, I have been feeling a panicky need to update this blog - make sure I don't forget/miss anything. Yikes. What a ball of anxiety I sound like! We are in the process of moving - ugh again - so, that may be the origin of some of this frenzy I've been feeling.


At any rate, Ila is sort of sitting up now. "Sort of," meaning she can stay up for a while if I put her up. She can't get up on her own...and she will topple over if she moves too much while sitting, which is sometimes frustrating for her! But she's liking this position more and more, which is a good thing for her bald spot. Maybe we can get some hair growing back in her little "reverse monk" bald ring around her head. Maybe.

She sometimes sort of launches herself forward when she is sitting and wants something. I can see that soon she will really want to be moving on her own. It's very exciting to think of her crawling...and also stressful since nothing is child proofed around here. However, she still isn't really rolling over much...so I think we have a little time.

As exciting as these coming developments are, I'm trying to just enjoy this time when I can force my affections on my daughter without much protest. I can squeeze and kiss and hug her and she mostly just rolls with it...I know that she will soon be too busy moving and shaking things up for a lot of kissing and loving time. That is, I suppose, in the nature of parenting...changing what you give you children based on their needs...even if you are a little sad that they don't want constant squeezing and hugging anymore.