I am on the down-swing of the roller coaster again. Yesterday should have been sad, because my grandmother died. But I didn’t feel any grief. Maybe I am just in shock at having lost two of my grandparents in two months. Grandma Sylvia is the only grandparent I have left.

Yesterday was beautiful. I didn’t weigh Sami, but only because I forgot. We went to a babywearing meeting and he was calm, he didn’t scream, and I had such a good time hanging out with the other mamas. I didn’t feel like the only one with a constantly screaming baby. We went home and played in his gymini, and he swiped at the dangling toys three times. He smiled so much and inspired a poem in me. I laughed and clapped and felt so proud of my developing boy.

Now today, I am a weepy mess. I weighed Sami, and he has only gained an ounce and a half in 6 days. I could feel myself sinking into fear and aversion as I reacted to that news. I went to the new moms’ class at the breastfeeding center and felt like I was the only one struggling, though I know it’s not true. Sami had about three meltdowns in the class and I ran out of milk in both breasts. Pat noticed how fussy he was, and how congested, and asked me to call her. Then I felt even worse. I didn’t stay afterwards for lunch, partially because Sami was crying, but even after he fell asleep in his car seat I didn’t go back because I was crying. I cried in the car all the way home and I’m crying now. I sent compassion to myself for being so afraid. I am so afraid. The fear is back, that there is something wrong with my son. The fear goes and I feel confident, it comes back and I am a holy wreck. How am I relating to the fear? At least I remembered to send some compassion to myself…

I know there is a correlation, or at least think there is a strong connection, between my fear and his crying. I know he picks up on my emotions. I can’t suppress them, though. The only way out is through!

I had a powerful moment while driving along K Street today. I looked at all the pedestrians crossing the street and remembered that they were all babies as little as Sami once. They were all as vulnerable and precious and resilient as he is. I felt an abiding tenderness for all those strangers. It was strange and wonderful, and I felt very alive and present amongst all those grown-up babies.