Not Quite Ready Yet: Feral Cats and Toddler Toilets

So much to say, so much change. It’s all happening too fast. I’ve thought about sitting down and writing out my feelings almost every day for the past ten months. I haven’t written and shared a complete blog post since March. If you’re new here, welcome! I’ve been sharing these blogposts since I had a miscarriage a couple years ago, and really needed someone to talk to. It was the most lonely, emotionally and physically painful, and confusing time of my life. Getting pregnant and having my daughter, Eleanor, has healed the aching in my heart, and brought me so much purpose. 

Being a mom is pretty much my whole personality, and so I like to write about it! I don’t really know how to describe what kind of mom I am, but I’m somewhere in the realm of being burdened by nostalgia and fleeting moments, controlled by routines and systems, overwhelmed by everything I want to become, but somehow lost in a loop of struggling to find the motivation to make changes, finish projects, and handle the constant self-reflection. That sounded a little darker than I intended, but it’s okay. I promise I’m fun, too. I do really love being a mom, and I happen to have birthed one of the happiest and bravest babies I’ve ever met, so she definitely helps keep me afloat. 

Before we get into the nitty gritty of how the past year has been, here is a little list I have been making on my phone of 

“Things I Said I Would Never Do As A Mom That I Do Indeed Now Do:”

• Have a dirty carseat
• Have a crusty high chair 
• Listen to baby music in the car
• Feed my baby Mac n cheese and chicken nuggets
• Go a whole day without dressing my daughter
• Colorful and obnoxious bath toys left out in the bath
• Not have my baby’s hair done in public 
• Rely on black out shades and sound machine for sleep

Sooo yeah. I guess I’m kind of type B too? Idk it’s hard out here. 

I cannot believe how different Nora is now. How different I am now. How much my life has changed. I’ve been asked the question a lot, “what’s the hardest thing about having a baby?” or “What changed the most in your life since having a baby?” So I’ve been reflecting on this a lot, because I want to give an honest and true answer. The truth is, everything has changed. The hardest thing? That change. There is not one aspect of my life that is the same as it was before her. Before my daughter. Before I became a mom. Every aspect of my life is impacted by this addition. My mind, whether consciously or subconsciously, is always thinking about her, and how my every decision affects her. Everything I do is to give her a better life. I am so grateful for the opportunity and responsibility to be her mom. She makes me smile more than anyone, and she is a physical representation of Dallin and my love. 

I heard something in a podcast that helped put into words a feeling I have, it was basically saying that motherhood feels so emotional and nostalgic because your baby is changing so quickly and dramatically that you become hyper aware of how fast time is passing. Outside of motherhood, time can pass without you noticing, but with a baby I am constantly reminded of how fast time is moving because every month there are new milestones, new teeth, new skills, etc. Never in my life have I been more aware of the calendar pages being ripped off all too fast. The 11th of every month is a complicated concoction of happiness, reflection, and sadness. The day of her birth. I get to look back and see how much she has grown, how much she has learned. How much I have learned. And how much joy she has brought to my life. 

I’ve been keeping a list of things I want to write about and share my thoughts on. I thought I’d format it going month by month: 

MAY

In May, Nora was five months old. She started to practice sitting by herself for small amounts of time, and this is where the inevitable head-bonks began. She could roll from her back to her belly, could blow raspberries and began playing with her voice and the sounds she could make. This is also when we started sleep training! Here’s something I wrote in my phone notes app in May:

“I think tonight may have been the last night I rock my baby to sleep. I cried. It is such a delicate balance of sleep deprivation and wanting to bottle up a moment and never change. I miss my newborn Nora. I miss my two month old Nora. And I’m already missing the baby she is now. As much as this four/five month stage is stretching my patience and confidence, I know I am going to miss it. I will miss holding her “like a baby,” I will miss being her sole source of food, I will miss bringing her into bed to sleep with me at 3am, I will miss her flapping arms and legs as she tries to put herself to sleep. 

There has been so much change recently. Just in the past two weeks. 

First, we moved her bassinet from next to me in our room, to her own nursery across the hallway. She starts off the night in her own room, sleeping in her own bed. Then, we had to buy a bigger sleep sack because her feet were squished in the old one. Why does this affect me so much? Putting her old swaddles, then sleep sack into a box of other memories too small for her now is so sad to me. All I can think is that this baby will never ever wear these clothes again. She will never be wrapped into that swaddle again, or zipped into that onesie. Yes, there will be other babies that wear these clothes, but how can I ever look at another baby and not remember my tiny Nora? 

I feel like Dallin is constantly thinking about and excited for the future. When she can eat solids, fit into bigger clothes we’ve collected, when she can sit up, when she can crawl, and walk, etc. As much as I love seeing her learn new skills and grow bigger, I can’t help but feel nostalgic for her past self. When all she could do was gaze into my eyes and drift off to sleep in my arms. 

Now they are so many rules. So many bad habits to avoid. So many products to buy. 

I already miss the now. I already want to go back.”

Sleep training was something I went back and forth on a lot. I could’t decide what the right answer for our family was, and I wanted something with the least amount of crying as possible, but I also was desperate for both of us to get more sleep. Bedtime before sleep training had become a chaotic combination of fight-or-flight mode, the sundown scaries and tears from all eyes. She would start out in her bassinet for about two hours but inevitably ended up cuddled between Dallin and I for the remainder of the night. Then, she started waking up in the middle of the night and being inconsolable unless she breastfed back to sleep. This, too, was fine until it wasn’t. Until I wasn’t getting any sleep, and she was basically sleeping with my nipple in her mouth all night. After weeks of this, I began researching the best ways to help a baby sleep through the night. We ended up paying a pretty penny for the Taking Cara Babies Sleep Training Course, and it worked magic within the first two nights. Yes, there was crying, but not nearly as much as I was expecting. Most of all, the course armed me with information that helped me understand sleep cycles, the importance of sleep, why babies cry, etc. Obviously I would have preferred to save $300 and have figured it out on my own, but there’s something that happens to you when you haven’t had a full night of sleep in weeks that makes big price tags not look quite so big.

JUNE

On a road trip with my family this summer I came across a video of a woman holding her baby over a toilet and the baby pooped on the toilet. I was dumb founded. Turns out it is a whole way of life, a culture, it has a name: Elimination Communication. The Communication between a parent and their baby about their eliminations (poop and pee). Something about this video really struck me and I felt drawn towards trying this. Before I even did any further research, when we got home, I sat Nora on the toilet and guess what happened? She pooped and peed. My jaw? On the floor. This snow-balled in to a deep exploration of Elimination Communication, its benefits, purpose, and steps to implement it. Nora was six months at this point, which was actually the prime time to start since she could sit up by herself. 

Without boring you of all the details (although I find it fascinating), EC is responding to your baby’s cues to go to the bathroom, and changing the location of that poop/pee from their diaper to the toilet. It is not forcing them to pee on demand, it is not a coincidence, and it does not stunt their bladder control. It is simply learning about your baby’s cues (just as you would for when they are hungry or tired) and switching the place in which they go to the bathroom. Babies, just like adults, have a natural instinct to not want to poop or pee themselves. Using diapers is essentially teaching your baby to ignore that instinct, so doing EC is just honoring the fact that no one likes to sit in their poopy pants. 

So for the first couple days I watched Nora like a hawk to learn what she does when she is about to poop or pee. I let her walk around the house naked so I wouldn’t miss it. Then, at that first grunt, squinted face, or squat, I picked her up, rushed her to the bathroom, and held her over the toilet while making the corresponding “peeing” sound (psspsspss) and signing “toilet” in ASL. And many times, she would poop/pee on the toilet! Eventually, I learned that there were patterns in time in which Nora would pee. She would almost always need to pee right before and after a nap, right after being in the carseat, and a few minutes after drinking a bottle. So then I was able to transition from watching for her cues constantly, to following these patterns and putting her on the toilet at each of those times. 

As I’m writing this, it’s January now, so she has been pooping and peeing on the toilet for seven months. I will say, I was much more diligent about it when we first started, and there were some days I didn’t change a single diaper because we caught every poop and pee in the toilet. Now, I am chasing around a busy 13 month old who has opinions, and getting her to the toilet is a bit harder. But we’re trying our best, and I do believe that it will help her be successful at formal potty training when we are ready. [EDIT FROM FEBRUARY ME: Nora is 14 months old now and we transitioned her to a baby potty toilet seat attachment that she is obsessed with. When I ask if she needs to go potty, she runs to the bathroom and puts the seat on the toilet and then happily sits until she’s peed. I think we were struggling last month because she wanted more autonomy in the routine, and so letting her sit by herself on the toilet has really helped. You can now catch me going to my friends’ houses toting around a toddler potty seat.]

You’d be surprised at (or maybe not depending on your opinion of this) how many people criticized, made fun of, or questioned our decision to do EC with Nora. I posted about our journey on TikTok in the beginning to educate people and bring light to something that I felt passionate about, but pretty soon decided it wasn’t worth it to post it as I was getting multiple comments and dms about how I was a “terrible, unfit, and lazy mother” for not using diapers and “forcing” my baby to sit on a toilet. I’m getting heated just thinking about some of the crazy things people said to me for just living my life. Anyway, just your friendly reminder that your words matter <3

SEPTEMBER

I was trying to figure out when my milk supply really started dwindling, so I looked up on my text messages “milk supply” to find the inevitable messages I sent worrying about not making enough milk. Sure enough, pretty much every month since last December when Nora was born I sent a text either to my mom or Dallin telling them I think my milk supply is going down. In April, after four months of breastfeeding, I was consistently not making enough milk for Nora. I was pumping after every breastfeeding session, pumping before bed, and right when I woke up. I started getting barely any milk at each of my pumping sessions, like less than an ounce per side, and was wondering how much milk Nora was able to get. 

In May we started supplementing her feeds with formula, which was hard for me to feel like I could no longer provide for her by myself. Thankfully, she has never showed any preference to breastmilk or formula, which made it easier. However, she definitely did start to show a preference to the bottle over breastfeeding. As my supply went down, it took longer for me to have a let down when she started feeding, so she would become super impatient and get really frustrated. When she got teeth in August at 8 months, this became a major problem. If milk didn’t come out immediately, she would just bite me. That shiz hurts. She drew blood a couple of times. As soon as she stared biting, it initiated a domino effect where I would be scared to breastfeed her because she would bite me, so I would avoid it, and then when I did feed her, she would bite me, and so on and so forth.

So by August, I was only breastfeeding her once a day, right in the morning after she woke up, because she was calm and hungry enough not to bite me, and my boobs had all night to fill up. This worked for a while, until even in the mornings I didn’t have enough milk for her. The formula bottles increased, my pumping sessions decreased, and eventually I was only breastfeeding her every couple of days. Each time, I wondered if it was my last, and would take a picture or video to remember it. And then one day it was our last time. And now I can’t even remember what it feels like to breastfeed. Something I did six or more times a day for months and months has now become unfamiliar. Something I used to think about constantly and worry about endlessly is now a past thought rarely brought up. I wonder if Nora ever misses it. I miss it. When we shower together she tickles my nipples like they are something foreign, instead of the sole provider of her nutrients for the better part of her first year of life. I did everything I could think of and read about: drink more water, eat more food, pump more, take more supplements, stop being stressed. I did it all. But in the end, I had to be at peace with our journey because I truly do not feel that I could have done anything more. I tried my hardest, and I feel accomplished and grateful for the nine months Nora turned to my body for nourishment. 

DECEMBER

Never in a million years did I think I would miss my baby’s first birthday, but I did :( Dallin and I got a very special opportunity to go to Spain for ten days, but it overlapped with Nora’s birthday. She was safe and having the time of her life with my parents during our trip, so we celebrated beforehand. I think celebrating it before her actual birthday helped me feel less emotional about it, but also I had been mentally preparing myself for this milestone the entire year haha. I felt prepared and ready to handle the day when it came! I also was hand crafting pretty much her entire present line up and party decor, so I was thinking about and distracted by her birthday for many months leading up to it. I wanted to share a bit of the letter I wrote Nora on her birthday while I was in Spain. I’m planning on putting this in the scrapbook I am making for her:

“Dear Nora, 

How this year has flown by! Having you as my baby has changed everything for me. I am a different woman because of you. The time since last December passed all too quickly, and yet I can remember every detail of it… your first laugh (with your uncle Jared in Utah), your first tooth (in the pasta aisle of Winco), when you first slept through the night (second night of sleep training in May!), your first word (hiiii!), your first consecutive steps (in your room with me), your first time pooping on the toilet (I was so surprised!) It is such a miracle to get to see all these “firsts” with you, and I know there will be many more to come. 

It is my prayer that you continue through this life with the zeal, excitement and friendliness that is engrained in you. I don’t ever want you to lose that “spunk,” as your Lolli says. Not a day goes by being your mom that you don’t make me laugh, and I need that. I’ve been away from you for ten days now. Before this trip I hadn’t left you for more than six hours. My baby that I carried in my womb with me for nine long months, then painfully and miraculously brought into this earth— I’ve spent every waking (and lots of sleeping) hours with you for the past year, and we’ve never spent a night apart. Then your daddy and I left on a long trip to Spain, and you gave me the best gift by finally learning how to say “mama!” But most of all I was reminded of how interconnected we are— you are my everything. Happy first birthday, Nora, here’s to many more years of laughter, pictures taken, food thrown, and tickle fights. 

Love, your mama”

JANUARY

The new year is hard for me, especially this year. Last January, I was a brand new mom and had no other goals besides keeping myself and my daughter alive, fed, and happy. Actually, I don’t even think my own mental health was a priority last year. My focus was mostly on learning how to be a mom, learning about Nora… and also we moved when she was two months old, so learning how to live in a new city! And for the most part, I feel like I succeeded in those goals. Nora is alive, she is healthy, and we have been enjoying living in Tri-Cities, Washington. In our time here, I feel like we have really put down roots and made friends, explored our city, and

made the most of our rental house. So if last year was the year to just kind of get settled, and comfortable, I feel like this year needs to be my year of growth, progression and results. Are those all just synonyms of each other? Perhaps. But I just really want this year to be transformative. 

The only problem is, I have a few obstacles holding me back. I think I have a disease called I-Can’t-Ever-Finish-Anything syndrome. Do you know how many unfinished projects are sitting in my craft room? Christmas was the best thing to ever happen to me because it gave me a hard deadline for things I was making. And boy did it feel good to do something start to finish: to have an idea, plan it, execute it, then wrap it up with a bow and give it to someone. But after the rush and deadlines for the holidays, my brain is back to swirling with ideas that may or may not ever become a reality. The amount of LISTS I have is crazy. I need to stop planning my future and start living it. 

We’re in the phase of early-toddlerhood where Nora feels like a feral cat. You know the kind of cat that looks so cute and fluffy you just want to pet it? But then you get closer to it and it starts emitting bad vibes and don’t-touch-me energy. You decide to risk it and move cautiously to pick it up, but quickly realize you chose wrong as somehow it can sense your fear and lashes out at you: clawing, hitting, and writhing around. 

However, that same exact cat an hour later, might prance up to you all happy-go-lucky and start rubbing its nose on your ankle with its butt in the air welcoming your petting hand. That pretty much describes Nora’s mood swings right now. You never really know what’s going to set her off and cause a grade A meltdown. Today it was that I didn’t let her bring the pumpkin from my car inside. Why is there a pumpkin in my car in January? Cause she loves it. You also might be wondering how did I know she wanted to bring the pumpkin inside, seeing as she is only thirteen months old and currently nonverbal? You’d be surprised at how far you can get with pointing, sign language and mind reading. I suppose all those times Nora acts out in unsuspecting bipolarity make it more special when she greets me with a smile and a reciprocating cuddle. 

FEBRUARY

Baby #2: The question of the year. First you go from being a newlywed and everyone asking when you will have your first baby, and then you have your baby and literally two seconds later they’re already wondering about the second! I am not exaggerating when I LITERALLY feel like I just had Nora. 

Like, I’m pretty sure fourteen months is still a newborn, right??

The hardest part for me isn't even as a family deciding when to have a second baby, but feeling bad about myself for not being ready yet, when so many of my friends, or strangers on the internet, with babies Nora’s age or younger seem much more eager and ready. I often feel like something is wrong with me for not feeling the yearning for a newborn in my life again. It does not come from the lack of joy a newborn brings, or negative feelings towards having more than one child, it’s more that I just cannot imagine another baby that isn’t Nora. She is the only baby I know. But surely when I get pregnant again, the baby that I birth will not be Nora— they will be a unique soul that I have not even imagined yet. It feels so weird to think there are other children in heaven ready to come to me. 

I also feel worried about giving a second baby as much love, attention, and education as we have been able to give Nora. My whole day is all about Nora. All I worry about is feeding her, playing with her, and teaching her. How can I do all that and give the same attentiveness to a second child? How can I cuddle Nora before each nap when there is another baby needing cuddling? It all seems too overwhelming.  

Next, there is the issue that I threw up approximately 195 times when I was pregnant with Nora, which actually sounds impossible to do so while living with a toddler. It was one thing to get pregnant with zero expectations of how pregnancy would affect me, but it’s a whole other ball game knowing there is a very high likelihood my fate lies in the bottom of a toilet or garbage can. So forgive me if I’m not jumping at the chance to barf my brains out for nine months. Which, by the way, I did get my first cavity after being pregnant so I’m holding a bit of a grudge towards pregnancy for breaking my 23 year streak. 

 

Finally, there is the lingering concern that I got pregnant on an ovulation-enhancement fertility drug, so who knows how long it will take to get pregnant this next time. Also, with my history of miscarriage I feel nervous to welcome that possibility of more heartbreak into my future. So from where I stand right now, having another baby looks like a lot of potential grief, laying on the bathroom floor, a lovelorn toddler and a mysterious newborn baby.

If you made it this far, you're the real one. Thank you for letting me share all things deep, and not so deep. Much love, Alysee