Sad News

This isn't about Boo.

He and I went back to see my parents over the weekend.  Just a mommy-and-Boo trip because three whole days flanked with half days is just too much for my other half to take squished into one house.  It was great to see the family.  It was so much fun to watch Boo play with his two cousins, ages 2 and 4.  It's a lot of work to travel by yourself with a kid in tow.  We flew.  Boo was an angel on the way there because he was sleeping (ha!) and about 30% a pain in the butt on the way back since he took his nap in the car en route to the airport.  Oy.

We were hanging out at the house doing la-dee-dah-whatever relaxing and then there's a phone call then crying.  An extended family member whom we all like and hang out with had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.  That's the kind that has metastasized and has been identified in two organs already.  Who? No, you mean OUR relative?  Can't be.  The silence of pure shock sets in and I'm not sure anyone is actually breathing in the room.  I think it is because we just heard a death sentence.

The news is sad and unfortunate, but at this stage in my life as a new mom, it is profoundly worse.  Life is punctuated by milestones.  Sure, we each have our own like high school graduation, turning 21, getting married, etc.  but if you add it up, there are so many more you experience achieved by loved ones than your own.  I am definitely caught up in the rat race.  Aren't we all?  It seems like so many days slip by that are lived, but not experienced mindfully.  Wouldn't it be so wonderful to be grateful for each day?  To find that something, where if you were given a short time to live, you could say, "Ok, well, I've really enjoyed my time here, but it's my time to go now."

Yeah, right.

The news made me realize that I WANT.  I want a LOT of things.  I WANT to be at my son's graduations.  I WANT to be at my sister's wedding when/if it happens.  I WANT to spend time with my nephews, and maybe one day, a niece.  And of all the things I WANT, spending time with loved ones (no matter how annoying, or what the beef is) bubbles up to the top of the list.  To think that our extended family member will not get these kinds of things is heartbreaking because we all assume that we get them.  Because we just do.  We hope for the best.

Life's not fair.  In looking up the origin of that adage, I found this article.  I'm not religious, but I do think it has several interesting points.

I am thankful for the opportunity to spend as much time as I was able to with my parents and sisters this weekend.  I am thankful to be surrounded by friends and family who are incredibly supportive.

What are you thankful for?

9 months 1 week: Teeth, and Ear Infection

I don't know if I mentioned it but Boo is on helmet #2.  Now that he is older, stronger and mobile, he is aware of it and takes it off when he is overheating, hungry, frustrated, etc.  Does the helmet help?  Who knows.  Certainly not in the ways we hoped it would with the asymmetry and ear alignment.  He ends this "treatment" in December, so basically, he gets the helmet off as his Christmas present.  Seriously.  It's his last day in it.

And I guess as OUR Christmas present, we get our sweet little helmet-free boy back.  He has been in it since he was 5 months old.  Do you think in 100 years people will look back and laugh at the fact that we used these helmets?  That it was totally ridiculous?

So let's see, what's new:

• Lots of talking, primarily da-da-da and gug-gug-gug but nothing even close to ma-ma-ma
• Standing up in the crib to turn on his mobile for amusement
• TWO bottom teeth
• Eating purees proficiently, and eating solids at school (e.g., pancakes and sausage, hamburger, turkey and cheese, pita, yogurt, banana, cereal, blueberries)
• Couch surfing rather proficiently
• Noticing when we aren't in the room at home, but he couldn't care less at school
• Mommy preference when ill; found that out this week with his first real fever (104.1 peak) and ear infection
• Leaning out some, but still has chins.  I really thought he was going to be wearing 4's, but he is still in 3's.  Now I have a stack of diapers in the den that won't be used for a while.
• Transitioning to 18 month clothes.  The tops fit well.  The bottoms are way too long, so he is still in 12 month pants.  Chuck showed up one day with a HUGE bag of clothes; at least eleven outfits he bought for Boo!  Uncle Chuck is very kind.

We had our first "major" social family outing last weekend at a local family friendly winery.  A friend and I created a work Facebook group for colleagues who have an infant, particularly because 2015 was the Year of the Babies.  I am so not kidding.  So, we had seven babies present!  And, one of the mommies coordinated an order for custom onesies with the company logo, so we took a picture with all of us.  It was fun, but man, it was blustery.  If it wasn't so windy, it would have been an ideal October day.  Brr!

Also, it was Grant's birthday last weekend so I invited good friends of his who just moved back here from NYC and Aunt Corey and we went to Top Golf and stayed and played and ate and drank for five hours.  FIVE.  It was awesome and I think Grant really enjoyed his birthday this year.

I did too.  You know what I did NOT enjoy?  The Corelle dishes I got him for his birthday.  He has been wanting them for a long time and I've been saying no-no-no because it marks the end of any stylized dinnerware that is clearly NOT Corelle.  I don't know; I guess it's because I grew up with Corelle and it just seems...old?

Who am I kidding.  We have a minivan.  We are in our mid-thirties.  I have three gray hairs.  We were the oldest couple at the winery and possibly the oldest couple in our Facebook group.

You know what's not cool?  I found out a friend of mine had some eggs frozen at 35, then several rounds of IVF for baby #1 and baby #2 two years later, because you know, tick-tock and all.  Why the heck didn't I freeze my eggs when I was young and eggy in my early 20s?  Oh, because I thought I would be married and settled and so forth much younger.

And, Boo is up from his nap and crying.  Gotta go.

Life As I Know It

I kind of forgot about this blog in the flurry of well, life.  It takes every ounce of energy and a ridiculous amount of focus to be functional when checking out isn't an option while in the depths of postpartum depression.  Things are better in general now, I think, thanks to a combination of meds and behavioral therapy.  Even with help, it is still hard.  I feel sorry for mommas who put their heads down and just push through.

I should mention that Boo is 8.5 months old.  MONTHS, people!

He has personality now, and is very responsive.  It's a very fun time and I'm enjoying it.  He's eating solids, albeit in mostly puree form.  I plan on introducing "real" solids soon, like, little pieces of carrot, banana, overcooked pasta and whatever else I can think of that Boo will be able to pick up and eat without choking.  I was late in introducing solids and bigger solids, so he is behind.  Other babies in his class are feeding themselves.

And, other stuff has changed on the other end thanks to the introduction of solids.  The first time we saw it, I took a picture and sent it to my sister asking, "Is this...normal?  Should I be concerned?"

First time parents.  Tsk, tsk.

He crawls and pulls himself up proficiently.  He will crawl straight to me when he sees me.  He will flip out when I'm out of sight.  Before, he didn't care.  He babbles and prefers "ga" and "da".  He doesn't really make sounds that require lips to be pressed together.  No "ma", "pa", "ba".  It is odd though, because when he first started talking, he started with "wa-wa-wa-wa-wa" which doesn't require your tongue to move the way saying "ga" or "da" do.

He claps his hands but not in the way you're thinking.  It's more like banging them together instead of an expression of delight.

He will be walking very soon.

He is a giant baby, but starting to look like a little boy especially when he passes developmental milestones.  I know he was a teeny tiny impossibly small human being months ago, but I can hardly imagine it.  I have to look at pictures.  And looking at those pictures is a huge emotional trigger making those moments, good and bad, feel like the present.  It hurts.  My therapist said that I am traumatized, and I think she is right.  I enjoy my baby, but I am racked with guilt because thinking back causes sadness.

Things are easier because we all definitely have a routine.  Sure, it drifts here and there when it comes to start and end times, but the order of operations is set.  And, it's the same thing.  Every.  Single. Day.  This is how 8 months passes like it's nothing even though some days and weeks were excruciatingly long.  When things get easier, it seems like you'd have more time, but without fail, there's always something else to fill that time slot.

The only time you will see me sitting on the weekends is when I'm eating, feeding Boo, folding laundry, or driving.  I am not even kidding.

It's almost 9:30pm, which means it is bedtime.  I'm not kidding about that either.  Until next time...

Registry versus Reality: Part 1

Now that Boo is almost seven months old and I have an entire (unusable as a guest) bedroom overflowing with things he either outgrew in a flash, never wore, never used, never liked, extra stuff we bought, etc. it has become clear that we don't actually know what we need until we need it.  This thought came to mind while browsing a friend's baby registry.

When we made ours, we didn't know what we were doing either.  Plus, isn't part of the fun making the baby registry?  Here's your scanner!  Go on a shopping spree paid for by others!  And, don't forget your goodie bag on the way out!

This is what we actually use:

• Muslin crib sheets by Aden & Anais.  So soft.  So light.
• Muslin swaddles by Aden & Anais.  Ditto.  Lots of uses.  We have a lot, but I'd say we actually just us four, tops.
• Two waterproof crib mattress covers.  You need two.
• Bulb aspirator that comes apart for cleaning.  It's called the BoogieBulb.  We cannot live with out this contraption.  The one from the hospital gets SO disgusting on the inside and you cannot clean it.  (Nose Frida doesn't work when you have respiratory issues, even if it has hundreds of 5 star ratings on Amazon.)
• Ikea changing pad covers.  $4.99 each.  We have probably 20 of these.  There are easily 10 in a drawer beneath the changing pad.  When #1 or #2 strike, it comes right off, into the wet bin, then a new one is available in 2 seconds flat.  There's one in each diaper bag.  Those silly little padded place mats just don't work when baby is more than 2 weeks old.  Plus, those Koala Care changing tables in restrooms are gross and this cover is so large that it blankets the whole thing.  THEN you can place your padded place mat atop it for baby.  Also great for the car when you change baby in the trunk of the SUV or minivan because the restroom is just. not. happening.  Seriously, these things are the best.
• Ikea washcloths.  $3.99 for ten.  These are just normal cotton wash cloths; nothing fancy.  We bought four packs because I was convinced that babies are messy.  Then, we didn't use any of them.  Now, we use ALL of them.  There is always something that needs to be cleaned up.  They work as pee-pee tee-pees.  They wipe up drool, spit-up, pee, food on baby, yourself and/or surfaces.  We use them to wipe inside the cranial band.  Boo likes to chew on a clean one while waiting to be changed.
• A&D, Baby Aquaphor, Desitin diaper rash cream, wipes and diapers like there's no tomorrow.
• A simple tub with sling.  The sling here is supported and not a hammock like almost all the other ones.
• Sea sponge, soft wash cloths and Burt's Bees baby wash.
• Joovy Boob bottles.  You're not going to see these anywhere except for Buy Buy Baby, but these are the best bottles since they have the longest nipple.  They are expensive, but after using Gerber, Avent and Tommee Tippee, we like these best.  This is good for moms who want to breast and bottle feed.  It's also good for tongue tied babies (whose tie has been clipped) because it encourages proper sucking which can reshape their palate.  According to Boo's pediatric dentist, the tie prevents proper sucking, so the palate tends to be vaulted in babies with tongue tie.  This can lead to issues with breastfeeding, and sinus issues since the sinus cavity is smaller due to the palate position.
• Onesies, soft shorts and soft pants.  While it's cute to dress up baby like they're about to have a Nautica or J.Crew photo shoot, it is difficult to get them in and out of the nicer clothes, plus, the material tends to be scratchy.  We were originally sold on the sleepers.  Easy, right?  Built in socks, one piece, zipper?  But threading a squirmy baby into pant legs you can't scrunch up while containing huge diaper butt became a lot less fun as baby got more mobile.
• Basic drying rack, Boon drying rack and doo-dads.  Why?  Because it's nice to have something sorta organize all those gazillion small bottle parts; plus it's fun to look at.
• Babyganics Bottle Wash and OXO bottle brush
• Dreft baby laundry detergent
• Formula
• Magic Bullet to make baby food puree.  Put into ice cube trays for freezing individual portions.  You really don't need anything fancy.
• Baby monitor, kinda.  Ours is a hand-me-down.  Some folks have fancy wi-fi setups and apps on their phones and what have you.  The truth is, we don't really use it.  It's nice to check in on baby, so when I need to do that, I will power it on for a minute.  Or, get up and pop into the nursery.  When that thing is on in the bedroom, nobody sleeps.  The display is bright.  It picks up every squeak like it is supposed to, but you don't necessarily need to know about every squeak!  My baby monitor right now are my ears.  When Boo is screaming bloody murder it means something is wrong and that amounts to a diaper situation or hunger.
• Carseat and stroller combo.  The kind where the infant carrier pops into the stroller that can be used as the baby gets older; not that cheap cart that doesn't turn.  We got a good deal on ours, so we didn't do any research.  Works for us!
• Feeding char, something along the lines of this.  Proper high char takes up a lot of space.  Haven't needed to go there yet, so this works for now.
• Large fleece blankets to put on the floor.  We had ones already on hand from Ikea and Walmart.  All the cutesy stroller blankets just aren't big enough.
• BIBS.  These are the best ones so far because they are waterproof but have terry on BOTH sides.  Boo likes to gum his bibs, and all the other waterproof ones I found are terry on top and plastic on the bottom.  Meh.  We have 20 of these.  Don't cheap out on bibs.  Cheap bibs get soggy in two seconds and the velcro is scratchy and often not adequately covered while fastened on baby.
• This moose toy was sent to us as a gift.  When I opened the box, I was like, ooOOookay.  As it turns out, it has crazy ratings on Amazon and is Boo's favorite toy.  Go figure!
• Sophie, the giraffe teether.  He LOVES this one too, but you cannot leave baby unattended.  He manages to get a leg in the way back of his throat and has gagged himself many times.  Sophie is very bendy, so it's easy to get into this situation with a larger, stronger baby.  Lots of places to hold onto.
• Baby gym.  I bought this one from Amazon based on reviews, but Boo doesn't care at all about the lights and music.  He will entertain himself.  The funny part is, he LOVES the mirror most.  We took it off of the gym and he plays with it on the side.

There's plenty more.  So, registry-wise, the bedding and Aden stuff, carseat/stroller, Sophie and consumables (baby wash, detergent, ointments), and bibs were on the list.  But, what about lots of other things?  Wait for Registry versus Reality: Part 2!

Pool has a "P" in it

P as in peanut.

We're running out of weekends to sit by the pool.  How did this happen??  So, we make it a point to make a short trip to the pool each weekend, even if it is just for a half hour.  This time, I was excited because I bought a baby pool float from a friend.  It's the kind where the center has a mesh "seat" where the baby goes in the center, then a canopy for shade.

The water was cooler than last week.  Boo was not thrilled, but got used to it quickly.  Me on the other hand; well, I was a wuss and lowered myself in centimeter by centimeter.  After several laps pushing or pulling the float, we heard squeaks and peals of laughter and even splashing noises!  All good stuff.  I brought his rubber ducky to play with, but he was more interested in playing with the tabs that tether the canopy.

It is late in the day, so no need for shade.

***

I blinked and suddenly, it was August.  Boo is almost 7 months old.   I found a wiry gray hair while staring thisclose into the bathroom mirror while flossing and unfortunately, looked at the top of my head. 

What do you do then?
Poke around for more, of course!

Bad idea.  Enter existential crisis.

Oh my god, I'm old.  I look so tired.  I AM so tired.  What have I done with my life?  Have I squandered all that time?  What have I accomplished?  If I slouch a little, I kind of look like an orangutan.  Thank you, pregnancy.

Quick!  Slather on some of that Bath & Body Works make-all-your-problems-go-away aromatherapy goodness.  Ah, the soothing smell of eucalyptus.  Lavender.  Lavend-aahhhhh.

The best thing to do is to not think about it.

So instead, I thought about whether we'd do a thing for Boo's first birthday.  Thing can range from birthday party to birthday PARTY, like, at a restaurant or something.  Because in January, people really want to leave their houses.

Move somewhere warmer.

That's not going to happen.  Christmas.  Let's think about Christmas.  Should we go get a Santa photo at the mall or something?  Do I have one?  I don't even know.  Do I care at this age whether I have a first Santa photo?  Probably not.  Should we put up a tree?

Jesus Christ, WOMAN!  Stop thinking.

There are so many things I could distract myself with when it comes to taking care of Boo.  What's really hard is taking care of me.  I'm at the point now where I've got the basic hygiene thing down (it was really bad postpartum), I'm eating (usually), and I can work eight hour days.  This seemed impossible months ago.  There's some semblance of a routine, but I'm still looking for my own thing.  I'm trying this 30-day yoga program that I saw someone post about on Facebook.  Yoga with Adriene.  Maybe this will be my thing?

We'll see.  More later; I'll see how it goes.

It's Criminal

So, I've got a new name to add to the list:  Zippy Boo Boo.

Yesterday, we went to BJ's since the configurable baby pens (jail) were on sale and bought two sets.  Now, they are joined together to make one huge oval with the back of the sofa along one long side and the tv stand on the outside of the other long side.

Basically, we are penned in with Boo.  That's okay though because we were always in that spot anyway.  Now, it means we can watch him less worry less while he is playing because it was kind of a death trap all around.  The list of child unfriendly features include the possibility of;

• getting pinned under the recliner
• getting a digit caught in the moving parts of the glider and ottoman
• getting tangled/strangled with any of the numerous cords in the rats nest of cabling behind the tv stand
• getting electrocuted by one of the many exposed power strips just laying around...
• a combination of the two for randomly plugged in things like the fancy swing he is way too big for
• some injury related to making contact with the brick base of the fireplace.  (Ah, fireplace.  What better way to make one side of a room completely unusable?)

There are probably at least ten more, but since we don't have child-proofed eyeballs, we just don't see the pitfalls yet.

Yet.

So yeah, Zippy Boo can motor.  It's not elegant, but when he wants something, he will get there.  He is all over the place.  I must say though that I am very pleased because he learned how to crawl organically.  He has gotten so much tummy time and prefers it now to the point where it's odd ever thinking he preferred his back.  He props up on all fours, and often goes into pike position.  He skipped the army crawl and is properly up on his hands and knees in table top.  Good job, kiddo!

Baby jail is going to be nice, at least for a short while.   Add that to the short list of safe spots for Boo.

Three BIG Things!

My mind is foggy quite often. The information is there, I'm just not as quick as I used to be.  Despite the downs as of late, there have been ups too- they are lost in the mind-fog, so I'll do my best.

We all went to the pool for the first time last weekend with our neighbor friends who have a 5 month old.  I went in first with Boo and he seemed confused for a minute but fine afterward.  Didn't try any swimming exercises and definitely didn't dunk him!  Water is fun!  The pool is fun!  Yayyyyy!!!!

Toward the end there were squeals of delight and splashing.  Splashy Boo Boo.  It's a quick trip to the pool with a baby so we are in the water for just a half hour.  We brought pizza for dinner last weekend, and our friends brought dinner this time.  This is going to sound SO old, but it was nice to eat at 6pm and get to bed EARLY.  Many nights we don't eat until 7:30 to as late as 9pm.  Sometimes it is cereal for dinner.  Sometimes we skip dinner.  Sometimes it is McD's for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

So yes, the pool! And the other BIG thing was introducing solids.  I wanted to a couple weeks ago but the stomach bug prevented that.  We tried rice cereal.  It doesn't look like rice OR cereal.  So the first real food was sweet potato.   Fail.   Confused look.  Furrowed brow.  Crying.

Thinned it out more with formula.   Still, a no-go but this time,  he pressed his lips together like a duck bill,  turned his head away and batted at the spoon.

This kid catches on quick.

Next try: apples.  He seemed to be more receptive to that.  As in, didn't flip out.  Sent him with the homemade apple puree twice to day care this week and he ate all of it!  I'm going to stick with apple for a little big then try the evil sweet potatoes again.

So yes, the pool AND solids.  And, the other other BIG thing is this:  Crawly Boo Boo.  We've been watching him get up on all fours in a perfect tabletop position.  He shifts his weight back and forth testing his body.  At first, he'd get into this state then immediately topple over.  We were accustomed to him rolling all over haphazardly.  He got better at it and could roll where he wanted to.  Now, he can do that and a crawl-lunge.  I say that because he gets up on all fours, reaches forward (because there's usually something he is trying to get to) then flattens out.  He manages to cover ground this way and it is to the point where I don't feel comfortable leaving him unattended.

Not like I ever really did, at least not for long.  But now, I don't feel comfortable leaving him on the floor to go fix him a bottle of formula.  The kitchen is adjacent, but I cannot see into the living room.  We are going to get baby jail (a pen) this weekend and make use of the pack and play.

So, those are three big things!

Then and Now

I stayed home with Boo today because his stomach still wasn't quite right.  This is his third day home.  I think he will be ready for school on Monday, but we'll keep an eye on him over the weekend.  I didn't mind staying home because it's fun to play on the floor.  We went for three walks in the neighborhood.  We also went to my doctor's appointment and also to return the hospital breast pump rental.

Believe it or not, the hospital pump weighs 14 pounds.  I wasn't able to pick it up when I rented it four days after delivery.  Then, once I was able to, 14 pounds felt so heavy.  Today, it wasn't a problem.  I popped 20.5 lb Boo into the stroller and balanced the 14 lb box on top of the stroller's cup holder tray and wheeled it back into the hospital's Lactation Boutique.  This is my hospital for all things pre and postnatal.

When I drove past the Birthing Inn, I wondered about the cars.  Were they visitors?  Did they belong to families with mothers in labor?  First baby?  Second?  Third?  Those three days I had in the hospital were special for so many reasons.  Having help 24/7 made a huge difference.  Things fell apart as soon as we got home.

It was odd going through the hospital entrance.  Straight ahead and to the right is the Antenatal Testing Center where they do sonograms.  I enjoyed getting the sonograms until the bed rest scare and I remembered that day in a two second flashback.  The weekly sonograms were amazing.  We got to see Boo a lot, but I was terrified that the measurements would come in low and I would be hospitalized.  I remembered all the visits to the high risk OB whose office is upstairs.  I planned the sonograms and OB visits on the same day so we didn't have to make two trips.  It was the only time I was allowed out of the house.

I turned left and walked straight and around the bend to the boutique.  I set the pump on the inspection station.  The lactation consultant looked up my information and remarked that the return was early.  "Yes, I reached my goal of six months."  Then added, "I had low supply issues; he was lip and tongue tied and it was very hard for us."  I spent over 500 hours pumping.  That number doesn't mean anything to anyone but me.  Why did I feel the need to explain the fact that I had pumped for only six months?

Because I had hoped to breastfeed for a year.  Because I had hoped for an idealized breastfeeding relationship with my baby.

She remarked on how cute Boo is and said I did a good job while pointing to his chunky thighs.  I left and felt a combination of relief and sadness.  This chapter is over.   I worked so hard.  I wish it wasn't as hard as it was.  I walked back down the corridor and remembered how long it felt when I was on bed rest.  I had to hold onto the handrail while taking half steps and would be winded by the time I got to the OB's office.  Grant usually dropped me off because you have to park far away from the entrance.  By the time he parked and walked back in, he'd catch up with me because I was only halfway down the corridor.  Muscle atrophy and weight gain from pregnancy are not a good combination.  Now, I was breezing by pushing my healthy baby in his stroller.

I didn't make it out of the front entrance without tears rolling down my cheeks.  It was just too much.  The flood of memories for those difficult times was unexpected.  By now, shouldn't I simply be happy that I have a wonderful, healthy baby?  I know it. I just don't feel it, and I think that this logical-emotional disconnect happens more often than I'll admit to.  It applies to all areas of my life and was there long before Boo was even a thought in my mind.

There is a question on the Edinburgh Scale which is a postpartum depression screening.  The last question asks if you've ever had thoughts about harming yourself (within the last 7 days).  It is an alarming question compared to the other nine.  It befuddles me that anyone would expect a new mom to answer that truthfully.  The first thought is this: I'm unfit to be a mother, they are going to take my baby away.

I felt many times that they would be better off without me because I wasn't ENOUGH of a mother. How could I be with all these conflicting feelings?  I wished I could just disappear from this Earth forever, but I wasn't thinking of the logistics on how to do that.

I will never forget the first suicidal thought I ever had. I was 15 years old and very depressed.  I knew it, but I didn't want to "talk to someone", as my mother put it.  Seemed like all the yuppie kids had their weekly appointments to keep with their shrinks, as if it was the hip, cool thing to do. Look at me!  I have problems!  I was leaning on a pillar on the subway platform and had a vision of simply stepping off it.  So easy.  It kept happening  and was eerie and unwanted.  The pillars are close to the edge, so I moved away from it and sat on a bench in the center of the platform.  What the hell was that all about?  This is the kind of stuff you don't share.  I wasn't going to do it (obviously ), yet at the same time, I wondered if I could trust my body.  I had the thought.  From there, is it possible to shift into autopilot?  A lot of time has passed so, empirically, yes.

I am not going anywhere.

I got it together in time for my appointment with my midwife which was immediately after in an office park across the street.

It was for an annual visit.  That threw me because I feel as if I've seen women's health doctors a hundred times in the last year.  The exam and blood work went quickly, but the midwife spent time with me to see how things were going.  I told her about my PPD.  She asked a lot of questions and was supportive.  She said I was doing everything I'm supposed to be doing to treat it.  A lot of it is self care along with therapy and a good support network.  I wish my family was closer.  I wish I saw them more often.

What's most difficult is that PPD is a scratch on the surface like glass that has been scored.  The structure has been weakened and it affects all aspects of life: work, relationships, self esteem.  It is a lot of effort to pull it together so any stressor is pressure on the weakened glass.  It's possible to break at any moment, and it does happen still.  Some days are harder than others.

Motherhood is double-edged in that immediate family grows and the house gets crowded, but it is so incredibly isolating for a new mother.  I told my midwife that I am having good days but still have bad days and I'm not in the clear just yet.  She assured me it would pass.  I think it is going to take a year.

There's EVIL in there.

I'm home with Stinky Boo-Boo today.  Poor little bugger has a stomach virus that is causing evil to come out of the bad end.  And I mean evil.  As in, about to throw up from the nauseating odor emitted from the bottom half.  He didn't mind at all and was his usual happy self.  How?  I have no idea.

There were so many factors we cycled through.  Maybe it was the fact that he's on formula exclusively now, but I wasn't buying it, especially since he has been eating Enfamil Infant formula since what seems like forever ago.  We were supposed to introduce solids last weekend, but given that his system is all jacked up, we need to wait.

Add this to his yeast infection, eczema flare up and his usual congestion, boogers and hamster head and my goodness…this POOR child!!

He hasn't eaten his usual amount today.  He took a VERY long nap earlier; almost 2.5 hours.  Then, two more poops in the hour he was awake, and now, back asleep on the floor.  He was playing, then laid on his side content with the pacifier with his palm pressed up against a mirror toy.  Next thing you know?  Out.

This is definitely not his usual self.

I called daycare to let them know what was going on.  The director noted that two new babies started this week, so maybe they brought the virus with them too.  Either way, he is contagious and needs to be clear for 24 hours before he can go back to school.   Tomorrow's out.  If he does another stinky poo-poo tomorrow, that probably means Friday is out too.

You know what stinks also?  Vacation day used for a sick day where YOU aren't the sick one!

A Letter to My Breasts

Dear Breasts,

I have mixed feelings at the moment as our relationship is changing once again.  When I was young, I wished you'd grow bigger.  When I got older,  I thanked my lucky stars that you didn't!  And then I got busy and didn't think much of you at all.

You got squished into a sports bra, inverted during yoga,  pummeled by soccer balls, accidentally punched, and always the first place to get sunburned.  And if all that abuse wasn't enough, then comes the baby and pumping!

I don't know why but I thought (and prayed) that I would not get those National Geographic flat dangling pancake boobs.  You know what I'm talking about.  Pregnancy makes you her bitch, though.  She stretches you to rhe limit, heats you up like a furnace,  and makes your bones ache.  To grow a miracle of a person is hard work and it changes all aspects of a woman, physically and mentally.  Intuition and  inexperience tell you it will be different after the baby comes, but not to the extent you realize after cradling your child several months later.

Breasts, you have changed and I don't recognize you anymore.  You along with the rest of my body are foreign and I wonder now if I look like just another middle-aged mother.  I haven't accepted it yet and I feel as if that's betraying my body after all it has been through.  How could I not be thankful and appreciative?   I think the reason is this:  my identity has been somewhat diluted.  The focus for the last 15 months have been on the baby and being a mother.  It's no wonder that I'm not quite sure who I see in the mirror anymore.

But 15 months is a long time, and with  breastfeeding behind me, now is a good time to start.

Breasts, you have worked hard to nurture and comfort my baby.  I am thankful for that. 

My Milestone: An End to Breastfeeding

It's also a big day for me.  A HUGE emotional one.

Six months ago I tried to breastfeed.  It was a huge catastrophic failure that plunged me even further into depression and caused me to question my worth as a woman and a mother.  The months of bed rest  that preceded Ethan's birth day bruised my spirit, but this on top of the crazy hormone soup my brain was swimming in just shattered me.

I kept trying.  Each cycle left all three of us brimming with tears and frustration.  I wanted it to work so badly for all the reasons that anyone could mention.  The bond, the benefits, fulfilling the most basic job as a mother and what nature just does, right?

Looking back, I see a slew of adversity.  It's easy to itemize the factors now, but each contributor was a painful realization.  I had a bad lactation consultant in the hospital who came too late and missed the ties.  She identified the tongue tie, but said the latch was fine.  (It wasn't.)  She completely missed the severe lip tie that caused the top lip to completely roll under when sucking.  It prevented the ability to make a seal around the nipple so it was impossible to eat properly.  Ties also can cause a baby to be fatigued and not eat as much as a result.  It's far more exhausting to eat; just a lot more effort needs to be expended to get the milk out.

During the early period, I kept trying to nurse and eventually gave up.  It was too painful.  Ethan wouldn't tolerate it and had lost too much weight.  Poor baby was starving.  We gave him formula.  We had to.  My supply was meager, and this was the start of my low supply issue.

I tried so hard to build supply.  It did increase and eventually plateaued at between 18 - 20 oz a day.  I think the all time high was 24 oz.  I had to supplement with formula, but breast milk comprised 60 to 75% of Ethan's intake.

I pumped on a strict schedule.  I pumped around the clock.  My life revolved around the pump.  Exclusive pumping is no joke.  Neither is breastfeeding or any combination of the two.  It's a second job, and any mother will tell you that.  Grant helped by doing all the middle of the night feedings.  Let that sink in for a second.  We would get up at the same time for the most part.  Ethan's food schedule coincided with my pumping schedule.  That's how it is supposed to go.

I took supplements.  All of them:  brewer's yeast, fenugreek, blessed thistle, fennel, goat's rue, postnatal vitamins, mother's milk tea, mother love tea.  I ate lactation cookies.  I ate.  I tried to eat enough.  I power pumped.  I learned about compressions and manual expression.

I wanted to give up.  It seemed hopeless.  I was lucky and had lots of support from friends and my sister.  Especially my sister.  She would text me encouragement at all hours and build me back up on days that I felt like I just…couldn't.

We got the lip and tongue tie addressed.  That was hard.  There's maintenance after that for a short while to assist with the healing process.  Nobody wants to hear their baby cry.  Ethan had to learn how to eat properly and build up the proper muscles.

I had a lactation consultant do two in-home consultations.  She was recommended to me by a La Leche League leader.  She was the one who noticed the severe lip tie and provided us with options for pediatric dentists.  We had success with breastfeeding finally.  And I know I say it all the time, but Ethan is such an easy baby.  He doesn't care whether he gets breast milk or formula, breast or bottle.  He rooted and latched, even after 6 weeks of being solely on the bottle.  He transferred 4.5 oz several week after his surgery.  We were finally able to have a breastfeeding relationship.

He usually needed a bottle afterward, and that was fine.  It was comforting for both of us.  There were many early mornings or inconsolable evenings where side laying nursing calmed him immediately to sleep.  I loved that cuddle time.  I was happy to have this success despite never being able to provide a full meal.  This was such a big deal for me.

At some point, I stopped obsessing and accepted the situation for what it was.  I stopped doing daily roll-ups of pump yield.  I still pumped at intervals, but wasn't OCD about exactly WHEN it needed to occur.  I started sleeping a bit longer through the night and savoring a stretch of 4.5 - 5 hours straight.  This is exhausting work.  Pumping is a huge commitment and still was the majority of what I did.  It was impractical to try to pump and breastfeed especially after going back to work.  I was so tired to the point that my bones ached.  I had a short temper.  My brain already wasn't working right with the hormones still imbalanced.  Pregnancy is no joke.

My goal was six months.  I never thought I'd make it, but here it is.  I started weaning two weeks ago.  It was very emotional.  Hormonal.  I cried at home.  I cried at my desk at work.  I cried in the bathroom at work.  I cried in the pump room while pumping.  There were a lot of tears.  I cried at therapy.  I wanted so badly to be medicated.  Why is it so hard?  Does it have to be this hard?  And it wasn't just weaning.  It was everything about the changes to my mind and body related to prenatal and postpartum events leading to an inability to cope with things.  It tested and strained relationships.  I needed more help than I have ever needed in my entire life.  Of course, taking on breastfeeding didn't help any of this, but it was something I felt that I needed to do.

There were so many sacrifices on top of the 500+ hours spent pumping.  This doesn't include the time spent breastfeeding or attempting to.  It was expensive in every way imaginable.  It's still hard to talk about.

I'm pumping only twice a day.  I don't miss pumping.  I am sleeping more than I have in months, and this predates the birth.  Pregnant women have to pee every few hours and this includes the overnight ones where you're supposed to stay in your bed asleep.  I'm starting to feel more like myself.

I thought that I might get myself something to commemorate this milestone, but I don't need or want anything.  You know what I DO have?  A healthy chub-chub of a baby who is in the 90th percentile for height and weight.

Not too shabby.

I'm kind of a big deal around here...

I don't know who started the whole "half birthday" thing, but it's that time for Itchy-Boo and I can't believe it.  He's thriving and measures in at 90th percentile for both height and weight.  Since last time, his milestones include consistently pushing up into cobra, but now also tucking his knees beneath his hips to get his tush in the air.  Then, we noticed his belly was off the ground too.  Ruh-roh.

The crazy thing about six months is this:  the first three were painful in every possible way aside from marveling over the tiny miracle that my baby is.  Parenting is a thankless job until that first smile even if it ISN'T deliberate!  And then, the beauty of sleeping longer stretches than 3 - 4 hours.  Oh happy day!

It's crazy how the last three months really turned the corner.  The developmental strides with interaction, alertness, mobility…just everything really.  We enjoy the baby-ness of the days and I feel like now it is the easiest it's ever going to be.  Isn't that insane?  His food is formula.  No worries about potty training.  We can carry him around in his little carseat pod everywhere and if he is sleeping, we don't need to disturb him.  All of his day trip items fit into one small diaper bag and do not involve electronics.

We are blessed with an easy baby who is good at eating and sleeping.  I am thankful for this and muse on it every day.  I am also thankful for the three hours that have passed where he has been napping.  Boo needs to eat.  I should go wake him up now.

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'

One day after work, I put Boo down on the play mat.  We pushed the couch back further from the TV and removed the coffee table, so now we have a couple of blankets spread on the floor, the play mat and just, lots more space for...

..ROLLING, apparently.

Yes.  So, I put him down, went to the kitchen to take care of a couple things, then came back and found him on the other side of the living room.  What.  Just.  Happened.

He can roll.  He can push up on his hands.  He can grab things deliberately.  He reaches for things.  He strains and struggles to get things he wants.  We are in so much trouble.  I think I actually stopped breathing for a whole minute when the realization set in.

Now that the baby is (sorta) mobile, all I see are safety hazards.  Cords.  Plugs.  Heavy objects.  Fragile objects.  Things that can fall on baby.  Places for baby to get stuck.  Things for baby to eat and choke on. 

I want to put everything into a garbage bag.

There are power strips out in the open.  The one I'm looking at right now has a laptop charger, cellphone charger and lamp plugged into it.  We need an area to charge electronics and that's it.  None of this all-over-the-house business.  And no, it cannot be the living room either where the baby plays.  We cannot have extension cords running ACROSS the length of the room.  No, no and no.

This problem is caused by the fact that the living area is one large open room, and we do not have usable wall space thanks to renovations that took down walls that made the spaces cozier.

We need to leave some things where they are, but that power strip on a cord may as well be a baby lollypop.

And of course, there's always the option to watch your kid.

While each milestone makes my eyes bulge out a tiny bit more in fear, there's twice the amount of joy that comes from watching Itchy-Boo discover and learn about the world around him.  Everything?  In the mouth.  Roll to things to put them in the mouth.  Babble, coo and blow raspberries nonstop and loudly too, I should add.  Like, what a school aged child might do to taunt another.  We have it on video.  I am not joking.

You know what's awesome?  The fact that we live in a ranch.  No stairs, baby!

 

Hamsters and Pee-Pee and Boogers, OH MY!

You know it's going to be a good week when Monday leaves you feeling as tired as a Friday.  Any extra task outside of the must-dos like go to work, drop off kid, pick up kid, take care of kid, (try to) take care of self really tips the tired factor.  Today, I ran to Target after work to pick up some overnight diapers.

We've found Ethan wet almost every morning during the last week.  He consistently sleeps on his stomach now and has been taking a very large bottle at night.  Close to 1.5 to 2x the amount of a daytime bottle.  Last night just before midnight, he's screaming bloody murder.  Like, utterly hysterical.  He was drenched and it woke him up.  We only have one waterproof mattress cover, but luckily, we have extra mattress protector pads we can layer.

So yeah, Target.  You can't go into Target and leave without spending less than $50, and true to form, I left with one box of diapers, two boxes of formula, some laundry detergent, some Gladware and two dresses.  Tomorrow I need to dress up for work.  I am way too fat still for my old clothes.

The sad part here is that in the past, I've tried on Target clothes.  Xhiliration is for juniors, no doubt.  Mossimo and Converse fit, and Merona may as well be synonymous with "mom jeans" because of the generous cut for...everywhere.  I've tried on their clothes in the past and immediately dismissed them due to poor fit, but now, they were just the thing I was looking for.  I bought two Merona dresses.  I don't care anymore.

I am a suburban Asian mom who drives a minivan.

That looks odd in print.  (More alarmingly, WHEN did this happen??  I'm too cool for this...right?)

Regardless.

I pick up my son from daycare.  I'm hella tired and yet when I see him and his big toothless grin, I can't help but smile back and cuddle my big squishy baby.  Sometimes it's hard and feels like such a chore.  Other times it's great.  Like when we took him to the zoo for the first time yesterday.  He didn't care.  Nevermind the orangutang directly overhead, or the zebra 20 feet in front of us when you have a bib you can shove in your face the entire time you're out, right?  It was nice to do something as a family.

A half hour later we're back home and Ethan's fussy so I nurse him to soothe him and he falls asleep.  Good god, what IS that smell?  It smells like...dirty hamster.  Ew.  It's foul.  It wafts.  Oh.  Right, it's my son.  I scrubbed the helmet extra hard this evening.

We pushed the couch back to leave more floor space between it and the TV.  The play mat and swing are now in front of the couch and the coffee table is BEHIND the couch which doesn't work at all.  But, we get to lay on the floor together and keep an eye on Ethan.  Before, there wasn't any room in that living space.

Ethan is getting better at grabbing things.  I dangle the tethered pacifier, or Sophie, or his favorite moose and he will grab it and shove it in his mouth.  Today, he actually got the pacifier in his mouth the correct way by himself and sucked on it instead of trying to suck on it while trying to play with it at the same time.  He grabs fistfuls of my hair and won't let go.  He'll grab anything within reach, so I will enjoy the fact that he still isn't very mobile at the moment.  I'm not counting the uncoordinated rolling.

He enjoys playing with his toys.  It's so cute.

He does this funny thing when he's about to go to sleep.  He moans and it sounds like his batteries are dying until the moaning stops.  Sounds like he just kinda gives up, but he's just falling asleep.  We are smarter now, and if we hear him wake in the night, we will wait it out and see if he falls back asleep.  There have been many times where I'll get up to make a bottle and by the time I turn the corner with it, the house is quiet.  Huh??  (Though sometimes he will just get up a half hour later anyway so I learned NOT to put the bottle in the fridge right away...)

He loves chewing on cloth.  I bought a bunch of cloth diaper inserts that we were going to use as burp cloths, but they were very coarse so ended up sitting in the bib drawer unused.  He will grab it, ball it up and start gnawing away at it.  This can go on for a while.  Usually this is his morning activity and it will keep him busy in the crib for a half hour.  When I get him, he's got a booger mustache, his sheet has dried boogers all over it, and the cloth he is chewing is also all boogered up.  We call him booger boy. 

(Why are babies so boogery??)

We spend a disproportionate amount of time sucking out boogers.  I don't remember when Ethan wasn't congested, but it was probably sometime before he was 8 weeks old.  Sad, right?

Big day tomorrow.  First event with the customer on my new project.  Thank god for that Merona dress.

Hump Day

You know what's a bad idea?  Playing Cards Against Humanity with little ones who are in middle school.  I (mistakenly) assumed that kids grow up super fast these days, but I guess it depends on which kids because when the question read, "My guilty pleasure is ______" and someone threw in "Penis breath.", that got a giggle followed by, "Ew, penises smell?"

Nevermind the obvious question of how, exactly, one gets penis breath.  That came up two hours later.  Nobody wanted to address that question, so I said, "You see how Ethan wants to put EVERYTHING in his mouth?"   Poor little bugger is teething.  "YOU also have that same option, you just choose not to."

I'm going to be a great parent one day.  You know, when there are stickier situations than a poopy diaper to navigate.

We are one week into the helmet usage and Ethan still doesn't care, but he sometimes does because on the back of his head where the flat spot is the worst, he has little red bumps.  I thought it might be eczema.  He swipes at it when he is frustrated.  As soon as I take off the helmet on the changing table, he goes straight for that spot.  Swipe swipe swipe.  Scratch scratch scratch.  When I redirect his hand, he gets frustrated and wants to scratch that spot MORE.   Go figure.

His follow up appointment was yesterday.  Grant took him and said the occupational therapist eyeballed the helmet fit, took it to the back, made some changes and sent them on their way.  Asked if we were able to see any changes.  Um, aside from my son looking like he is ready at any moment to play sports?  NO.  It has been only one week.  Give me a break, people!

That's it?  No scans?  No measurements?  Nope, not this week.  Next week they're supposed to have a 3-D model.  We wondered if these helmets are custom made...

The thing with the helmet is that it does not fit snugly.  The skull is supposed to grow into it, so due to gaps between it and the scalp, it will shift a little.  The helmet is still a perfect little sphere and we wonder if that was the main contributor for Ethan sleeping on his stomach now.  Did the helmet help with the roll?  Probably.  Was he not rolling before the helmet because he was getting stuck on the flat spot of his head?  Probably.  (Not!)  I think daycare has him doing a lot more tummy time so he's just stronger in general.

And, in case you're wondering, the helmet still smells.  ;(  The decals for the helmet came in two days ago.  I was excited about decorating it before we had it, but now that we do, the thought of having that stank thing anywhere near me for a prolonged period of time is just...awful!  I still would like to do it this weekend.

Ethan is definitely teething.  He is drooling all over everything.  Daycare sometimes changes his clothes because he saturates himself so I put a bunch of plain onesies in his drawer there.  He definitely can show excitement now.  For example, when I entice him with something he wants, like dangling a toy in front of him, he goes "hoo hoo hoo" while flapping his arms and legs.  Reminds me of jellyfish propulsion for some reason, but either way, it's very cute.  Then, he reaches clumsily, grabs the artifact and indiscriminately shoves it in his mouth.  He still loves his soothie pacifier since it is gummy all the way around so he can chew on it.  He loves his moose too.

The sky is beginning to brighten.  Crazy how my days now begin at 4:30am.  I haven't been feeling that great lately; runny nose and sore throat.  Not sure what that's about, but I AM sure that there are three days until the weekend.  Hooray hump day!

Boo Boo Le Pew

Oh. My. God.

The helmet STINKS.  Like, literally.  It's foul and sticks in your nose once you smell it.  I'm going to have to sprinkle the entire house with coffee beans.  I hoped it wouldn't, but let's face it:  helmet is to head as shin guards are to shins, except imagine wearing your shin guards nonstop.  It's bad enough just once a week for soccer and never cleaning them!  The white foam already has some yellowish discoloration from sweat and oil.

Even with the care instructions, it still smells.  I scrub and scrub and scrub and still cannot get the evil out.  There's only so much I can do and the care instructions discourage using products because it could be irritating to the skin.  I guess that just affirms that whatever gets into the foam STAYS there.

There's a natural room deodorizer spray called Fresh Wave that was recommended by the helmet people.  It arrived yesterday, so tonight, I scrubbed the helmet with a dry towel to pick up moisture and oils.  Then, 70% rubbing alcohol on another dry towel to scrub the inside of the helmet.  I did several rounds of the alcohol scrub.  I could still smell the funk.  Next, the Fresh Wave spray and a silent prayer.  I let it sit for a while, then wiped it clean and set it out to dry.  It helped a little.  Tomorrow, I'm going to try it again in the morning and let it sit in the sun.

Ew.

The good news is that Ethan still doesn't care.  I am in disbelief.  How could he not notice?  Babies are something else, truly.

His teachers at daycare have been very accommodating and are totally fine with handling the helmet.  Even the director of the school learned how do it too!  They take it off and wipe the sweat out at every diaper change.  They try to do diaper changes every two hours.

So yeah, the helmet is working out.  We are still adjusting to the added overhead and I am still clumsy when handling it.  It's awkward but feel normal soon enough.

Better yet, daycare is working out!  I was very pleased today with the pictures I got.  The teachers were on the floor entertaining the babies with circle time, story time, mirror time.... It was full of activities that I know weren't provided at the other daycare.  I have no regrets about transferring him out.  I'm done with the nanny search and don't feel anxious about rushing out of work to rescue him.  The teachers are sweet and nurturing.  They LIKE kids.

It is such a relief.  Hopefully they will still cuddle him as the stink factor can only increase during the course of his treatment.  Ha!

Helmet Day and Physical Therapy

Ethan got his helmet today and he didn't seem to care at all.  He just looked around and then continued playing with his giraffe toy.  The occupational therapist left us for fifteen minutes to let Ethan acclimate then returned to see how the helmet settled.  She then marked up the helmet for trimming.  It was too low in the front covering his eyebrows.  It was too low by one ear.  After going over care instructions and watching us remove and replace the helmet on E, we were good to go.

We are supposed to take the helmet off every 3-4 hours to look for discoloration for where the helmet might be rubbing against his head.  So far so good.  When it is off, we can dry the sweat off the inside of the helmet and his head.  It can come off for one hour each day for bath time.  His head needs to be washed EVERY day.  The helmet needs to be wiped down with alcohol and dried completely EVERY day.  There are weekly follow up appointments.

The day before, we saw a pediatric occupational therapist.  We are also supposed to do simple stretches to loosen E's neck and leaning preference.  So when he is on his back, we turn his head to look over one shoulder, then the other.  Then, bring ear to shoulder on the same side.

Hopefully between the helmet, physical therapy and the sessions with the pediatric chiropractor, all this will be sorted out in the next two months!

There's a website specializing in vinyl decals to decorate the cranial bands, so I'm anxiously waiting for E's to arrive in the mail.  I'm excited about making it a cute accessory because right now, it looks like a boxing helmet.

The Grill…The Grill..

…The Grill is on Fire.

We don't need no water… and I'm sure you know the rest of the real song, but yes. that is what I did on Saturday.  We invited Chuck and the neighbor who lives on the other side of the block on the other side of his yard who also works at the same company if you can believe it.  Eric and his wife have a little one who is five weeks younger than E.

It's really nice to hang out with first time parents who are going through the same thing.  Like us, they don't have family in the area either  We share stories of how challenging things are.  We assure them it gets better since we are five weeks ahead.  We don't feel embarrassed when a baby cries, or we need to leave early because we're tired.

But yeah.  I put the Bubba burgers on the grill.  I came back and flipped them.  I went back inside to check on the corn and baked beans on the stove.  I went back out and the grill was smoking.  Like, A LOT of smoke...

I opened the lid.  Flames shot up from the right side of the grill where I laid the bacon cheddar burgers.  The left side had the original patties.  I quickly got the food off the grill and was lucky.  Only two of the bacon cheddar burgers were blackened.  The rest of the food was fine.  The original burgers were grilled perfectly.  The "good" bacon burgers were well done but not ruined.

I'm supposed to clean the grill which I was told is a royal pain.  Chuck warned us that the fire would happen after looking at it last time we used it.  I didn't think it would actually happen though!  So I guess no grilling out until I get it cleaned up.  Boo.

What's new with me and Boo Boo?

Let's see, what's new with Ethan?

He is still super cute in the morning.  I love it when he greets me with a nice big toothless grin as he's squirming in his crib.  He still can't roll quite yet, but if he's on his stomach he can (eventually) roll onto his back.  When he is already on his back, he lifts his legs straight up into the air and they fall to either side.  He sleeps this way now, and rarely will we find him on his back after putting him down.

He has more upper body strength.  Tummy time meltdowns occur less frequently though he can only tolerate so much, but it is clear that propping up and looking around is much easier.  Now, he's even crinkling the textured flaps of the play mat.  His head control is pretty good.  He likes being propped up in the sling, and on a lap.

He can grab things (sorta).  Before, if I held a toy in front of him, he would look at it.  Now, he looks at it and makes a Frankenstein grab at it, then immediately tries to put it in his mouth.  We've tried a bunch of different toys, but the moose is STILL the clear winner.

Ugh.

I just remembered that he threw up all over it during dinner last night and I was supposed to put that, plus the liner for the high chair into the washing machine...but forgot.  :(

He drools quite a bit.  There's been a noticeable increase in the last month.  And by noticeable, that means leaving clean (and dirty) bibs all over the house and possibly several changes of clothing in a day depending on how drenched he gets.

He poops almost every day thanks to Udo's probiotic.

He still vocalizes but not coherently.

He likes music and calms down when we play the CDs from Music Together in the car.

He will watch TV for a little bit provided there are a lot of colors.  This works for 10 minutes at best, but that's plenty of time to shower and get dressed.

He is wearing 12 months clothing now.  Good lord!  Shoving him into 6 mos is just...mean.  9 mos is questionable, so 12 it is.

He is still seeing a pediatric chiropractor.  Helmet goes on this Tuesday.  Physical therapy starts next week as well.

What's new with me?

I'm 12 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight.  I am now able to fit into my "fat" clothes which are the items I got and wore around 16 weeks when I was still hiding my pregnancy.  Does it feel good to be in fat clothes?  YES.  Why yes it does.  Because it certainly beats maternity clothes in terms of marketing.   (But not necessarily comfort!!)  While it's nice to lose weight without obsessing over it, it is still very hard to get dressed because I don't have a capsule wardrobe at least for this awkward phase.  As a result, it takes me a long time to get ready in the morning.  A typical morning goes like this:

(in my head)

Ok, ok...pants.  White pants?  I wore these on Monday but they're still good I think.  Sniff.  Look at creasing.  Yup.  Okay, now a top.  Nursing tank for ease of pumping?  Or, t-shirt.  Or, nicer tank?  Nursing tank doesn't give good cleavage coverage, not for these NatGeo boobs anyway...where's my nursing bra?  Okay good.  Nursing bra under normal tank top.  I'm going to be cold at work though.  I need a cardigan or a hoodie or something.  What goes with this gray tank top?  That black cardigan is too heavy and long.  The light long one is cream colored.  That does not go with gray.  Do I have one that works at all?  Maybe this gray hoodie?  But, the tank and pants are a notch up from that casual hoodie...

Yes.  This is my every single morning.  I'll try to get organized this weekend.  It would be so nice to wake up and get to work you know, not THREE hours later!  I'll have to itemize my morning routine some other time.

Therapy is going well I think, but I am still ungodly tired.

I am still pumping through the night though more relaxed as to the time interval, but I think my supply (as meager as it was to begin with) has taken a hit.  That in itself is depressing.  I have almost reached the 5 month mark.  I'm not sure how much longer I can do this.  It's hard to do it.  It's hard to quit.  Breastfeeding is hard too.  There are a lot of ups and downs.  When I can calm Ethan with the Power of the Boobie, it's fantastic, but this applies to comfort nursing only, since I don't produce what he needs to well, um, not starve to death.

I am still working part time.  It has been just too much to adjust to the baby, pumping, working, all the doctors appointments, seeking therapy...  I think it sounds nice to "just work part time", but I assure you, I am not laid out on the couch eating dark chocolate and binge watching reruns of The Bachelorette.  Part time right now means that I can take time out of my day to pump at work.  It means that I can leave early and pick up Ethan.  Or, I can leave early and go home to nap for an hour.  Or what happens more often is clean up a little.  It hasn't resulted much in more time for me for self care, like, get a pedi, or see friends.  That happens on the weekend if it happens at all.  It doesn't mean more time for my marriage.  It just means a slightly more relaxed pace of getting through the day.

I hear Ethan stirring.  He is barricaded in the twin bed by pillows while I am pumping, typing and watching the baby monitor.  I need to prep a bottle and sneak back in to keep an eye on him.  More later!

Big Week: New Daycare, Head Examination, New Project

It seems like things are going well so far at the new daycare.  I no longer feel the need to bolt out of work as soon as I clock in to rescue my baby.  That's a good sign, right?

It is clean, bright and well maintained.  They have security measures.  Whenever I call, a person answers.  The administrators and teachers are friendly and seem like the want to be there.

They use an app which gives real time updates on what your kid is doing.  So, for example, I got one at say, 2:30pm for a wet diaper.  Another at 4pm when a bottle was started.  A photo at some point to show whatever activity at the time.  I'm happy to see tummy time.  We still need to drop by unannounced to see what things are like.  This center has monitors in the lobby so you can look into the classrooms.

It's a nice place.  So far so good.  And now, we really appreciate it.

Ethan's first day was Monday and we were totally comfortable handing him over.  I'm guessing he got a lot of stimulation that day because he could barely stay awake to have his bedtime bottle.

Tuesday was a big day too.  We all got up and left the house together to the helmet people to get measured in order to make it.  The only difference from last week is that the image taken involved a stocking over the whole head instead of one that left the face exposed.  Why they don't just do the full scan in the first place is beyond me; but it did seem like this second visit was a waste.

We go back on Tuesday for the helmet.  :(

It's not quite like that.  It's actually more of a band than a helmet.  Here's the real site.  If you scroll to the bottom, there's a picture of a baby's head from the top view with and without the helmet.  This is exactly what's going on with Ethan's head.   Poor baby.

In other news, it's trial by fire with the new project.  It is definitely different from my old project but I haven't decided if it is better or worse.  Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of sitting back and observing the dynamic.  The big milestone is at the end of the month, and we're almost halfway there.  That is, with having to deliver the goods, not our internal status of how we feel we're doing.  Ha!

Weekend Summaries

I must admit that it was nice having the munchkin around all weekend too.  Yes, we have him every weekend, but last week was different with him being home since Wednesday.  We got out a lot between doctors appointments and social outings.  It's starting feel more natural lugging a heavy car seat, bulky diaper bag and overstuffed cross body purse oh, everywhere.

Last weekend, we took a family outing to the Air and Space museum.  Lots of walking around in air conditioning?  Yes please!  Corey treated us to lunch for my belated birthday and even held a fussy baby such that Grant and I could eat like normal people.  Which means not shoving food in your face at a speed faster than light.  What?  Have the luxury to eat slowly?  We weren't able to do it very well, at least, not without feeling guilty.

Then, she and I went window shopping and the boys went home.  We went to a consignment shop that has higher end items like an LV bag behind the counter.  Not gonna lie, I kind of wanted it.  But it is definitely one of those things that you regret later...and I have a number of other handbags that I don't use that are a testament to this fact!

The way their consignment works is that they get half and price it competitively, which means that they probably look on ebay then adjust to what they think the wealthy people of this area will pay.  They keep an item for 90 days.  After the first month, the price automatically drops 20%.  After the 2nd month, another 15%.  Then it's at the end and you can pick up your stuff (junk?) or they will donate it to a women's shelter.

My mind immediately jumped to a Kate Spade bag I had to have.  I paid $170 for it on eBay (retail $225 I believe), used it a couple of times and realized that it was kind of annoying.  Now, the same bag sells for around $100 since it has been a while.  If the bag sold right away, I'd get $50.  But...but...I paid $170 and could get $100 on eBay if I did it myself.  But I'm too lazy to do it myself and for someone else to do it and only give me $50, I may as well keep the damned thing, right?

It, along with several other expensive handbags, went into the I'll-put-these-on-eBay-probably-never box and moved to the storage area to be forgotten about.  I will put these up on eBay one day, you'll see!!!

Then, we went to the mall where we both hated everything.  Corey is tiny and can wear anything.  Me?  Not so much with the baby weight.  Regardless, all the styles are unflattering for fit and flabby folk all the same.  The loose, boxy, shapeless clothes scream "I give up", along with "one size fits all" and when something is for everyone it usually doesn't work very well.  We went back to the house and hung out for a bit.  That was a nice weekend.

This weekend, we interviewed another nanny.  She was alright though I wished she had shown up in more professional clothes instead of a belly baring cropped top exposing her belly piercing and true religion brand jeans.  Her racing Mini Cooper with stripes on the hood was parked in our driveway.  Hmm.  In some ways I liked her more than the Cash-Nanny, but in other ways the Cash-Nanny won out.  So, yeah...

Then, we were invited to a birthday party through our network of adoptive families and even though Ethan was difficult Friday night into Saturday morning, we still somehow made it out there and everyone LOVED him.  Everybody loves babies.  Then, they turn into vocal annoying toddlers and people stop caring and become very annoyed.  At least, that's what I think happens.  Folks get charmed once again when they turn into tiny interactive people.  Not sure when that happens.

Then, another surprise!  My running buddy-soccer buddy-cycling buddy- everything buddy Steph was in town and contacted me last minute to hang out.  Why, of course, ANYTHING for you!!  We planned on going for a long walk in the neighborhood, but instead went to Old Navy and that was great fun.  We took Ethan with us too.  When we got back, I FORGOT to pass along some pre-pregnancy goodies and she already took off to drive back to Virginia Beach, so Ethan and I went to her husband Eric's parents house to drop off the clothes and of course, his family loved Ethan!

With all of Sunday's excitement, Ethan fell asleep at 7:30pm for the night.  I had to nudge him several times to finish his bottle!

The weekend was nice, but man did it FLY by.

During the weekend, Ethan almost discovered his feet.  They were in reach, so he grabbed one and tried to get it into his mouth, but wasn't aware that they were his feet...nor was he successful.  On the developmental front, he is definitely grabbing for things and enjoys this moose toy (of all things!) which is a bit funny to watch because it is HUGE compared to him.  I tried to grab video of the foot grabbing but as soon as he saw the camera, he stopped doing it.  Will try again to get that on tape, and also some playing with the moose toy!




 

 

P-minus 11 to go. . .

I wasn't in any particular hurry to get to work yesterday.  I knew it was the company golf tournament (which is a pay-to-attend event) which clears out the building.  I did it once and wanted to kill myself after the 9th hole when someone told me we were only halfway done.  Halfway done after three frickin' hours?  What kind of torture is golf anyway?

Needless to say, I am not a golf person.  It is a game that is made unnecessarily hard by playing on a huge field with a tiny ball hit by a tiny paddle at the end of a very long stick.  What's more, you need many of these paddles since having just one isn't sufficient necessitating a tiny cart to drive oneself around said field.  Right.

Enough hating on golf.

Knowing it was golf day, I took my time getting ready in the morning to the point where I even pulled out the dreaded scale!  This event can only occur first thing in the morning before drinking or eating, and of course after emptying my bladder.  Still half asleep, I get onto the scale with low expectations only to find that I'm 11 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight.

Which is great in a way. 

Except for the fact that my stomach looks like a baked alaska when I try to sit up.   :(

I am still heavy on my feet so my ankles, knees and hips ache still just from walking around too much.  It's probably too early to start running again.  It would be nice to start working out again partly to fix this pudgy body, partly for my mental health and mostly just for a me activity but it is a low priority right now.

In the meantime, I suppose I can avoid sweets since I have a baked alaskan of my very own.

Postpartum

I feel like I am in a fatigued state of limbo.  I don't want to go to work.  I don't want to stay home.  I don't want to do nothing.  I am too tired to do anything.  I love my son.  It is a very strange place for me.  I am 4.5 months postpartum.

One thing that has been very difficult for me is knowing what the baseline is for now.  Most moms have a normal pregnancy.  They take the 12 weeks off with the baby before returning to work.  They weren't on bed rest for 14 weeks prior to the arrival of their baby.  So, when I wonder if limbo-land is normal for 4.5 months, there's no answer.  It just is.

I need to make peace with everything that has happened but I just can't at this moment.  I would love to say that I don't know why, but I do and it has to do with hurt, anger, and disappointment.  I haven't moved onto acceptance; a place of love and forgiveness of others and oneself.  I don't know what it will take to get there but I am praying that therapy will help.

Therapy involves crying.  I don't realize how important something is to me until I verbalize it.  It's easy to keep thoughts in your head.  There's no commitment to action.  No physical tie.  But once the emotion and action are tied together it can be like an epiphany if you're lucky, or just...really hurtful.

My third session is tomorrow.  I'm curious what this week's homework will be.  Before, it was making an effort to get more sleep, then doing something for just ME once a week.  The good news is that these things do help make things better, but they aren't a fix.

"I just had a freak out moment..."

That was the first line of an email I got at work yesterday from my mentor on my new project that I have not yet started.  As soon as I get ramped up, he is punting everything to me so he can be full time on the other project he is supporting.

The problem is that when you are split among multiple projects, you're crap at all of them.  I know.  I'm on three right now.  And, I'm part time.  How does that work, you ask?  IT DOESN'T!

So, the freak out moment was followed by a list of 7 documents due at the end of this month.  Usually these documents are cut and pasted and tweaked here and there.  This time, they require major revisions.  It is June 4th.  I am part time.  June 30th is the end of the month.  I am part time.

Did I mention I am part time?

Clearly, I enjoy writing.  Those who hate writing do not blog as a hobby.  It's different though when domain knowledge is required.  Circuits what?  Resistors?  You mean those Tic Tac things stuck in the protoboard?  Things are going to get interesting real fast, especially since the thing that comes with mommy body is mommy BRAIN.

What was I saying?

Nanny #1

So, when you're interviewing a nanny and she says she wants to be paid in CASH...

I liked her though, but we need to talk to others.  The link is pretty loose.  I asked a friend who has a friend who has a nanny.  And that nanny has a friend who is looking for work.  The good news is that she is currently employed but the youngest child is starting kindergarten so that's the end of the road.  She had one or two other families; same scenario.

I did learn that being a nanny is a career.  This particular nanny was looking for a long term commitment.  Of course, employment is at will, but we aren't sure what we want to do yet.  A nanny is more than twice the cost of daycare.

Kids are expensive.

So long, farewell...

Today was Ethan's last day at daycare.  That was unexpected, but perhaps a blessing in disguise since I kept him home with me after his appointment yesterday.

Probably 20 minutes after drop-off, the principal calls to let me know that Ethan is running a 101.6 degree fever and we have to pick him up.  No problem.  Set up a sick child appointment, let Grant know what's up and take off.

Grant informs me that he was ready to leave with Ethan when he brought him in.  Again, the ratio was off, and a new teacher was being scolded at the front desk about not coming in (and not telling anyone) when she was supposed to.  Then, she heads off toward the infant room.  Great.  You know what?  It's best to follow your gut as a parent.

When I show up, I tell the teachers that today is the last day because I don't know what the pediatrician will say.  Daycare has rules about bringing in sick kids.  I pack up his things and say farewell.  And just like that, we walk out.  There's no fuss over him leaving.  His old teacher TEXTED me when she heard Ethan's last day was approaching and was sad she wouldn't see him.  I was hoping for a "We'll miss you sweet little guy!" instead of a silent "Good riddance!"

It's okay though.  I am home with my munchkin.  :)

I gave him some Tylenol, took him to the doctor and he has been doing well so far.  He is sleeping...a lot, and you're supposed to let sick babies rest.  It has been four hours (!!).  I checked his forehead and his temperature is ambient.  When I kissed him on the top of his head yesterday, it felt warm.  I regret not checking him last night.  Novice mom move I guess.

Hello Helmet

We went to Cranial Technologies this morning to get an assessment on just how badly misshapen Ethan's head is.  To do this, the baby is undressed to the diaper, dons a stocking cap and sits in the center of a circle with cameras mounted overhead and at equal intervals on the perimeter.  A photo is taken, and a 3-D model is rendered from it for measurements.

Before we even saw the digital imagery, our consult with the occupational therapist was enough to know that we were in trouble.  Our gut instinct was right.  The head shape and facial asymmetry wasn't going to correct itself.

The soonest we can address it is in two weeks.  They are working with our insurance company and will call us on Friday to tell us what the cost will be.  Depending on how old the child is when treated determines the frequency of visits for adjustments.  Think: braces.  The sooner the better though since the skull hardens as the child ages.  Now, Ethan's is still fairly pliable.

I had terrible mother's guilt over all of this, but now I am starting to realize that this isn't (entirely) my fault.  The fact that Ethan was breech for so long and delivered via c-section doesn't help any.  Not to say that he was predisposed to this condition, but babies with these factors are more prone to cranial shaping issues.

The good news is that the babies don't seem to care that they are wearing the helmet after a short while, and a couple of parents in the waiting room vouched for that.

Plagiocephaly. **it Happens.

When I was pregnant, I asked veteran mothers what they couldn't live without.  At the top of the list was the Fischer Price Rock n' Play.  We got it for Christmas from Ethan's paternal grandparents and when he was born, we put him in it constantly because it cradled him.  He looked so peaceful in it.  The crib seemed enormous, plus, with the Rock n' Play, we could keep him in our room.

Supposedly, it's for naps, not for bedtime but for the sake of sanity, myself along with many other mothers used it as the primary sleeper.  We would try the crib, but Ethan wasn't having it.  The crib doesn't provide the same secure feeling as the Rock n' Play does, and it helps with reflux since the baby is propped up at an angle.

I noticed a flat spot developing on his head.  That, and a preference to look over his right shoulder which I think partly has to do with the fact that we are right-handed, so everything we do favors the right being free because it is most dexterous.  The changing table is a good example.

The flat spot got worse.  We painfully transitioned him to the crib.  He still favored the right and would always turn his head.  We put a blanket roll behind his back to force his head to the left.  He would eventually turn it back to the right.  It became clear that he was going to do what he was going to do.

Compound that with the fact that daycare rarely does tummy time with him; so his neck muscles weren't strengthened to the point where he could be ambidextrous.  Or, an ambi-turner if you're a Zoolander fan.  :)  Then, doubly compound that with the fact that daycare always has him in a baby-holder be it the swing, some kind of rocker similar to the Rock n' Play, or the crib.  All.  Day.  Long.

Not only did he have a flat spot, but his head was starting to vertically elongate.  That cannot be fixed even with the helmet.  What's worse?  From the top view, his ears are now misaligned.  One is farther forward than the other.  His forehead slightly bulges on one side, and one eye appears slightly smaller than the other.  His misshapen head has crossed over to the point of facial deformity.

Just like everything else pertaining on what-to-do-with-baby, all the information provided no information and it's down to our choice as to what we want to do.  Do we take the chance hoping he will outgrow it?  But, with all the physics I took in college, the most basic concept of "every action has an equal and opposite reaction"  implies that it would take force to mold his head back into shape which is what the helmet does.  So, how on earth could he outgrow it?  Especially the facial asymmetry.

We pointed it out to daycare hoping they could help us encourage him to look over his left shoulder.  Same with naps, but he is never in the crib.  Same with tummy time, but no dice.  It doesn't matter.  His last day is Friday, but the damage has been done.

Supposedly, babies with a traumatic birth experience are more likely to go through this.  Given that Ethan was breech resulting in a c-section, it seems doubly traumatic.

He has an appointment with the helmet people tomorrow for a scan and assessment.  The following week, he has an evaluation with a pediatric plastic surgeon.  Insurance considers this a cosmetic procedure; same as breast implants or liposuction and as such it is not medically necessary.  The helmet people will work with insurance, but the base cost of the helmet (plus subsequent visits for adjustments) is $3600.

Between the nanny hunt, helmet research and working with the new daycare while we try to work everything out, I'm hoping we will arrive at a solution we are comfortable with by the end of this month.

Daycare Fail. . . AGAIN

I am so furious right now that it feels like I have clenched fists inside of me waiting to punch out like a Jack-in-the-box.  I am vibrating with anger.

Maybe this doesn't sound like a big deal, but it is to me.

Every single time I go to daycare whether it's for drop off or pick up, Ethan is in the swing or a baby holder equivalent.  Only ONCE did I see him in a bouncer.  I haven't seen him in his crib because "he doesn't like the crib", so they let him sleep in the swing which they are not supposed to do.  The majority of days, he gets NO tummy time for the 8+ hours he is there.  If he does, it's a meager 5 - 10 minutes for the entire day.

There are two "teachers", and it's generous to even call them that.  The room is divided with the purpose of keeping mobile infants on one side, and immobile ones on the other so they don't get trampled.  Today, there were three mobile infants on Ethan's side.  They're playing, of course.  One wanted the swing Ethan was in...you know how that goes.

The ratio is four infants to one teacher.  There were seven or eight on the immobile side; basically all the kids in the room as if the divider wasn't there.  One teacher was sitting in the glider playing on her smartphone.  The other teacher was on the other side of the divide doing other things.  There were no children on that side.

I show up; I'm not acknowledged at all.  This seems to be the norm.  As if me picking up or dropping off my kid is a huge inconvenience for them. 

I check his log and see that for one of his bottles, he only had 5 out of 6 ounces of breast milk, which means they threw out that last ounce.  I haven't told you about my struggles with breastfeeding; just know that it was a while before I took my eyes away from that row of the table.

On the bright side, he had a total of 35 minutes of tummy time, but only because I explicitly wrote it on his sheet when I dropped him off.  They are supposed to do this with the infants.  It's of utmost importance for their development.

The teachers speak Spanish, which is fine, but every time I'm there, they are speaking Spanish to each other, and not talking to the infants at all in English, which is also important for their development now.  Exposure to language, especially because they start learning sounds and patterns now.  Oh, and they're also listening to like, 105.9 The X, or some other station with top hits.  I walk into Tove Lo singing about putting your body on my body, and excuse my language, but I really would prefer them not to play that shit all day in the infant room.  And it is all day.  Because when I go in the morning and in the evening, same shit.

My friend says I should tell the administrators, but the truth is this:  they are supposedly popping into the classrooms, and they provide coverage as floating teachers since there aren't any aside from them, they surely have been in that room and have seen and heard what is going on.

When we enrolled Ethan, there were three nurturing teachers that we liked.  They talked to the kids incessantly.  They played with them.  Kiddie music was on; nursery rhymes, lullabies...They read to them; even the immobile infants!  And now...well, now what?

When we gave notice, the care seemed OK.  I was uneasy, but there wasn't a consistent pattern of behavior yet for me to call it out.  Now, there definitely is.  I am SO happy his last day is Friday.

Part of me wishes I could take a year off to take care of Ethan.  The other part of me knows I will go crazy.  I want to hire a nanny to care for him but I don't even know where to start the search.  I'm trying through word of mouth now, but nobody's talking.

More later.