50 Mornings a Mother: October 10 – November 27, 2014

Turns out I’ve been writing this blog for quite some time, I just didn’t know it. Below is a previously unshared project I created right after Veda was born in 2014. I was really struggling with this whole mothering thing and running on ZERO SLEEP. I couldn’t share it then, it felt too personal. 

The background – having Veda was like hitting a brick wall… I was shattered and rebuilt. Breastfeeding was tough, she wouldn’t sleep (still hates going to bed), we had just moved the area and I was alone a lot. Sometimes I can meet stress with art/writing/creation/humor (but more often with emotional eating – MY FEELINGS ARE SO DELICIOUS! Aside: I kept a daily journal from 1994 to 1998 during the roughest parts of my parents divorce which coincided nicely with my adolescence (double trouble!) As a result, I have a full record of my most awkward years at my fingertips! Jealous!!?)

I created this little photo journal project as a way to feel a little creative and a little accomplished during my early motherhood.

Love, bluebirdface

50 Mornings a Mother: October 10 – November 27, 2014

Sleep deprivation. It strips away so much of the joy that a little baby brings. It’s a constant thief of pleasure and sweetness. It’s brutal, relentless, slowly edging you to crazy town. There is a reason the CIA classifies it as a form of torture.

I’m lucky enough to have an amazing partner in Matt. He’s a hands-on, fearless baby daddy. I have friends and family who will change diapers, feed bottles, hold the crying baby. But, goddamn, I miss uninterrupted sleep. True rest.

So here’s my answer: 50 photos, one each morning for the next 50 days.

The first 50 days with Veda has been a blur of triumphs and failures: the transformation of a pair into a family, the birth of not only a tiny bebe, but a father and a mother. It’s been overwhelming, scary, fun, funny, human.

Here’s to the next 50 days being less of a blur, to sleep deprivation being less of a thief.

And a photo journal, although a small thing, is an acknowledgment that this is one of life’s sweetest seasons. Someday I will look back and wish to be back here, with this little baby fussing in my arms, exhausted to my core, but able to erase her discomforts with only a dry diaper, a boob, or a good snuggle.

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