91热爆

...while Elspeth hiccups away in her vibrating luxury seat. Trapped gas. I couldn't get her to burp much at all during this last feeding so I have her sitting semi-reclined in her seat while I prop my eyes open with match sticks. I pray that Elspeth does not start howling... I can hear her considering a good howl and I hope that she does not open up and let 'er rip...

While I changed our baby's diaper I couldn't help but contemplate the rolls of fat around her tiny little thighs. I thought of how healthy she looked, how she glowed with life. Then I thought of all those babies in the world right now without enough to eat and I thanked God for our wealth.

She's howling. I wrack my brain for a solution. Dummy teat (passifier) for her and a shot of whisky for me? I love whisky but I can't drink it diluted with water so I sip it down raw and firey while my throat constricts and my lungs heave. After muting the baby howls with a dummy teat I sit here daydreaming of a 5am shot of whisky...

I transfer Elspeth into her moses basket (bassinette) and I rock it gently while she stares around and waves her arms. She has decided that it is time to be wide awake! I pop some ibuprophen to calm the pain in my abdomen - that stupid infection came back (never left?) and I'm back on antibiotics. "Make sure you see the doctor after you finish that course of antibiotics so he can have a good look and find out if the infection is gone." Auntie Farmor, a seasoned nurse, orders.

"Yes, Aunt." I say and I cringe as I imagine Doctor H's fingers poking into my unhappy belly. It burns like fire and keeps me awake.

Auntie Farmor also told me to wake her up to take the baby in the morning if necessary. That might become a necessity if Elspeth remains awake until 6am. Auntie Farmor leaves for America on Saturday morning. This thought makes a lump grow in my throat as I picture this house devoid of the cheerful presence of my Aunt Diane. She and my mother were not only sisters but also the best of friends. Me and my own sisters practically grew up at Aunt Diane's house. Whenever I look at her smiling face I see all through those years of seeing her and mom together. I think of mom, three years dead now. I think of Elspeth being born the day mom died. I think of how much mom yearned for a sweet little grandchild to hold in her arms (and spoil rotten) and the lump comes back to my throat. Why did you have to go and die? Erlend will be 47 in April - the same age as mom when she packed up and left this world.

Aunt Diane told me that she is going to laminate a picture of Elspeth and put it at mom's grave. I think of that grave and I remember that cold November day when my two sisters, my step-father, and myself stood around a small hole staring down at a small box that contained nothing but ashes. That's my mother in there... All four of us had taken ahold of the box together and placed it into the grave. Then we lay little trinkets on top of the box - mine was a lovely white rosary that I had purchased while spending Christmas break in a convent. Then, in a fit of black humor, we snickered and giggled as we made a wee snowman and placed it at the head of the grave.

How I would love to be able to visit her grave so that I could lay flowers onto the cold ground and say the things that come into my mind that I can't really say over here, thousands of miles away. I would like to be the one to lay the photo of Elspeth at her grandmother's resting place. No... I would rather lay Elspeth into her grandmother's arms... but I can't because my mother is dead. And now Auntie Farmor is leaving and taking that powerful connection to my mother back with her "across the pond".

I hope she comes back next fall. She said she wants too. Maybe, somehow, I can save up the money and buy her a ticket myself?

I move my thoughts away from departing Aunts and departed mothers...

Elspeth seems to be half fussing, half cooing as she squirms about in her moses basket. I silently will her to please go to sleep so I can go back to bed... I know that as soon as I lie down and get comfortable she'll start to howl. Babies are good like that. "Is mom resting? That is SO not allowed on my watch!!"

I stink. I have no idea why I stink but I most certainly do. Now I'm daydreaming of a hot bath rather then whisky. On a better note our house is now saturated with the sweet smell of baby. The rooms are cluttered with sweet baby things. Everywhere I look I see baby this and baby that and my heart glows with joy. Two sheepskins dominate the livingroom: one a soft pink, the other undyed. Both came from my favorite natural child store and the wee one loves to lie on them and wave her arms in the air while kicking her feet. The pink sheepskin is kind of her "Sunday best" sheepskin and I hope to save it for her so she has it when she is older. That will give her something sweet to remember her childhood by...

For the past three days our friend K~~~ has snatched up Aunt Diane and taken her around the island. I'm so greatful because that is what I had wanted to do but the infection and pubis symphasis have kept me housebound. K~~~ and Aunt have had a grand time visiting with one another while seeing the sights. I hope that K~~~'s friendship, plus the baby, helps to lure Auntie Farmor back to Orkney next fall...

Maybe I'll throw a fundraiser party with large banners that read, "BRING AUNTIE FARMOR BACK TO ORKNEY"

Aunt Diane and I had a baby fashion show the other night where we took photos of the wee bairn in various outfits while posing her on the two quilts sent by friends. Elspeth was less then amused but she was SO CUTE just the same! We have been flooded with an endless array of baby gifts - packages from home coming in the mail, presents delivered to the house from folk around Orkney. Piles of cards full of congratulations and well wishes. Elspeth has aquired a fantastic wardrobe filled with every kind of frilly, girly thing you can imagine! People have been so kind. I'm enjoying dressing her up like I used to dress up my baby dolls back when I was a little girl daydreaming of growing up and getting married and having real babies.

Elspeth has outgrown her first set of newborn outfits and I can't understand why I feel so sad about that! I'm sitting here gazing at her first little clothes feeling downhearted. "Our little girl is growing!" Why does that make me feel sad?? Elspeth now weighs a hefty 9 pounds (was 8 pounds at birth) and has grown over an inch. Her little head has become quite fat and she's as strong as an ox.

I'm beginning to suspect that my little ox has not had her fill of milk as I listen to her fussing through the dummy teat. That's my cue to haul myself back up the spiral staircase and into the nursing chair armed with a bottle... Elspeth refuses the bottle and we spend some time in the chair gazing into one other's eyes. Mine are dark earthy brown and hers are a vibrant crystal blue.

It is now past 5am. My back aches but my abdomen has been subdued somewhat by the ibuprophen. I've returned Elspeth to the moses basket and decided that it's worth the risk of trying to go back to bed because at the moment I hear nothing. Not so much as a peep. (Is it possible that the bairn has fallen asleep??) When an exhausted Erlend came to bed around midnight he found me huddled under a pile of blankets. "I'm so cold..." I whined and he crawled under the heap and curled his body around mine and stroked me. "You're too hot." he said.

"I'm freezing." I whimpered.

"No, you're too hot." Erlend insisted while I burrowed into him and fell asleep in his embrace.

As I sit here shivering I long for that embrace and I wonder if he'll be awake enough to respond to my whining about being cold? Or is he out cold? I shall go upstairs and investigate...

Goodnight! Er... Good morning!