I could get used to this Mother's Day business. It is like having a second birthday. Okay, so I ended up cooking breakfast myself, and we spent the day doing long-ago scheduled plans that had nothing to do with ,other's Day and not going out to brunch, but I got lots of love and cards and calls and texts. It was a really nice day. And while I may not say it often here, being a mother is fantastically, ridiculously wonderful. It really is. Hard, but wonderful. So, happy belated momma's day to all the mommas out there. You are goddesses. Keep up the good work.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Saturday, May 11, 2013
The breast whisperer
So, after getting some help from the breastfeeding doctor but still suffering from sore and cracked nipples, I decided to throw still more money at my breastfeeding problem and call in the big guns: This lady, who is something of a Brooklyn legend (I actually called her three days after I got out of the hospital, but she was booked).
She was a riot, a New York City character out of central casting. She advised me to rub olive oil on my sore nipples, "But just a little bit--your breast is not a bagel; you don't need a schmear." And she cracked jokes throughout the whole session. But she was also very warm and funny and loving with my baby. She told me he has the cognitive awareness and interactivity of a five month old. Go S! And she threatened to not let me leave with him. (S. has that effect on people. Bit of a ladies' man already.)
She also said that she thinks his suck problem is down to the fact that he was vacuumed out of me, because in the days after birth, that causes soreness in the muscles he should be using to suck, so instead he uses the muscles around his mouth too much, which is what causes him to clamp down on the nipple, which is what causes the pain. I have no idea if any of this is true, but it makes a certain amount of sense. So we're going to do physical therapy-type exercises three times a day.
So now, my breast feeding regimen consists of feeding him eight times a day, pumping three times a day, doing exercises three times a day, doing tummy time three times a day (to improve other muscles), soaking my nipples in saline four times a day, rubbing olive oil on them after every feeding, and taking something like 10 pills a day. I'm fucking exhausted just typing that.
Hopefully this will get easier soon! Christ on a cracker, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep doing this.
She was a riot, a New York City character out of central casting. She advised me to rub olive oil on my sore nipples, "But just a little bit--your breast is not a bagel; you don't need a schmear." And she cracked jokes throughout the whole session. But she was also very warm and funny and loving with my baby. She told me he has the cognitive awareness and interactivity of a five month old. Go S! And she threatened to not let me leave with him. (S. has that effect on people. Bit of a ladies' man already.)
She also said that she thinks his suck problem is down to the fact that he was vacuumed out of me, because in the days after birth, that causes soreness in the muscles he should be using to suck, so instead he uses the muscles around his mouth too much, which is what causes him to clamp down on the nipple, which is what causes the pain. I have no idea if any of this is true, but it makes a certain amount of sense. So we're going to do physical therapy-type exercises three times a day.
So now, my breast feeding regimen consists of feeding him eight times a day, pumping three times a day, doing exercises three times a day, doing tummy time three times a day (to improve other muscles), soaking my nipples in saline four times a day, rubbing olive oil on them after every feeding, and taking something like 10 pills a day. I'm fucking exhausted just typing that.
Hopefully this will get easier soon! Christ on a cracker, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep doing this.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Breastfeeding. Sigh.
I don't even have time right now to get into what a saga breastfeeding has been for me (note that I said saga and not "journey." Nothing bugs me more than the use of that word to describe anything other than getting from point a to point b. Setting sail from continental Europe to travel to South America in the 15th century? Journey. Cutting refined carbs, working out and losing a few pounds? Not a journey. But I digress).
Someday I will write the whole story, but for now I will give the Cliff's notes. In my quest to make it to six months of feeding my darling baby boy nothing but breastmilk (six months is the minimum lenght of time recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics), I have had three visits with a lactation consultant; one with a doctor who specializes in breastfeeding; endured scabs, blood blisters, and bleeding from my nipples; started taking a prescription drug to boost my milk supply, and pumped several times a day in addition to nursing eight to ten times a day to make sure baby S. is getting enough to eat. Oh, and I cut out wheat and dairy because they don't agree with him.
To put it bluntly, it's fucking exhausting and I am ready for it to be over. The crux of the problem is that he has a bad latch, and I can't seem to fix it no matter how hard I try or how many experts I see. (And for those who know the lingo, he doesn't have a tongue tie; I checked). The latch problem is what's causing my nipple injuries, and it also means he isn't removing as much milk as he should at each feeding, which is causing my supply to drop. I could supplement with formula, but I have been told that this will cause my supply to dip even more.
In desperation, I attended a breastfeeding support group last week. It wasn't that helpful for my specific issues, but it was nice to hear that other moms are also not loving it and are having their own issues.
Except this one mom. She complained about "oversupply" (which I'm told can suck but I hardly doubt it sucks as much as undersupply) and also worried that her baby only spends 5-7 minutes per breast at each feeding. To put this in context, S. spends 30-45 minutes at EVERY feeding. This means I do nothing all day but nurse and pump, nurse and pump, nurse and pump.
Honestly, this chick seemed nice, but I found her infuriating. It's as if she'd said, "I am worried that I have too much money; I just don't know what to do with it all. And no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to put on weight."
Bitch.
Someday I will write the whole story, but for now I will give the Cliff's notes. In my quest to make it to six months of feeding my darling baby boy nothing but breastmilk (six months is the minimum lenght of time recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics), I have had three visits with a lactation consultant; one with a doctor who specializes in breastfeeding; endured scabs, blood blisters, and bleeding from my nipples; started taking a prescription drug to boost my milk supply, and pumped several times a day in addition to nursing eight to ten times a day to make sure baby S. is getting enough to eat. Oh, and I cut out wheat and dairy because they don't agree with him.
To put it bluntly, it's fucking exhausting and I am ready for it to be over. The crux of the problem is that he has a bad latch, and I can't seem to fix it no matter how hard I try or how many experts I see. (And for those who know the lingo, he doesn't have a tongue tie; I checked). The latch problem is what's causing my nipple injuries, and it also means he isn't removing as much milk as he should at each feeding, which is causing my supply to drop. I could supplement with formula, but I have been told that this will cause my supply to dip even more.
In desperation, I attended a breastfeeding support group last week. It wasn't that helpful for my specific issues, but it was nice to hear that other moms are also not loving it and are having their own issues.
Except this one mom. She complained about "oversupply" (which I'm told can suck but I hardly doubt it sucks as much as undersupply) and also worried that her baby only spends 5-7 minutes per breast at each feeding. To put this in context, S. spends 30-45 minutes at EVERY feeding. This means I do nothing all day but nurse and pump, nurse and pump, nurse and pump.
Honestly, this chick seemed nice, but I found her infuriating. It's as if she'd said, "I am worried that I have too much money; I just don't know what to do with it all. And no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to put on weight."
Bitch.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!
Baby S. turned three months old on Friday. And he decided to give ME a present. For the last several nights, he's been sleeping in longer and longer increments, and last night, he slept the much-coveted-by-new-moms 10 PM to 6 AM stretch. Yay! Yay! Yay!
Right now he is napping. And NOT in my arms. This is another big milestone. He normally won't sleep during the day unless I'm holding him--which is incredibly sweet, but makes it hard to do much of anything.
Seriously, I could weep with joy. I love you, little buddy! Now keep up the good work.
Right now he is napping. And NOT in my arms. This is another big milestone. He normally won't sleep during the day unless I'm holding him--which is incredibly sweet, but makes it hard to do much of anything.
Seriously, I could weep with joy. I love you, little buddy! Now keep up the good work.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
For the last three nights, my baby has slept through the night!!! I can't even believe I'm typing this.
When you are pregnant, everyone who has a child relishes the chance to tell you how sleep deprived you are going to be. Believe me, my husband and I were well aware that we were not going to get any sleep. We knew it was going to suck. We knew it was going to suck big time.
Still, there's no way to really prepare for how you feel when you're going through it. To put it bluntly, it's torture. Especially if you're breastfeeding. In the beginning, they eat every couple of ours, for like an hour at a time, so you can really only sleep in one-hour increments. In our case this turned out to be a pretty brief period, thank god--Baby S is really a pretty good little sleeper--but even when he started sleeping for longer stretches, I still never got more than three hours of uninterrupted sleep for the longest time.
There is a reason that sleep deprivation is used to brutalize prisoners and terror suspects into submission. Because it's fucking torture. My husband and I started referring to Baby S as Zero Dark Baby. We were both irritable; we snapped at each other a lot, and I was prone to fits of weeping. There were a couple of times where I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown.
And then, he just did it. About three nights ago, he slept from 11 p.m. to 6:30. (Unfortunately, I woke up involuntarily at 4:30, out of habit; when I realized what time it was I tore out of bed in a panic to make sure he was still breathing.) The next night, he went from 10:30 to 5:30. Last night, 10:30 to 6:30. I have heard that babies will sometimes do this for a few nights and then revert back to middle of the night feedings; I hope this isn't the case. Because let me tell you, this has been the most welcome development EVER. I feel like throwing a goddamned ticker-tape parade.
What we haven't quite worked out is WHERE he sleeps. For now, and as he has done for most nights since we brought him home, he sleeps in the swing. It has proven to be the only place he will sleep. This is less than ideal because the swing is a bit cumbersome to bring into our bedroom--and anyway, our bedroom is freezing cold--so right now, my husband sleeps on the couch next to the swing, I sleep in the bedroom, and he brings the baby to me for middle of the night feedings.
I'd like nothing more than for us all to be in the same room, my husband sleeping next to me in our marvelous new bed that we bought just before Sam was born. And we've tried to make this happen a few times, wheeling the bassinet up to the bedside and turning on a space heater. But the little twerp refuses to sleep in the bassinet. After about three nights of trying this, we just gave up.
I have learned, when you are in the throes of extreme sleep deprivation, you will do anything to get your baby to sleep. If your baby will only sleep when being held upside down by his feet over a fire, you'll do it.
I was always against co-sleeping, not because of the hippie-dippy aspect, but because I thought it was dangerous. Apparently, babies have died for people rolling over on them and smothering them. But then there are doctors out there who say that co-sleeping actually reduces the risk of SIDS. (Parenting books are so chock full of ridiculously conflicting information that it's honestly not worth reading them.) Anyway, I know lots of people who do it, and they basically told me the same thing--they were desperate to get some sleep, and it was the only way their baby would sleep. So they reluctantly gave in, making sure to take every precaution. It's probably more dangerous to have overtired parents who are in such a state of sleep deprivation that they could fall asleep anywhere and drop the baby than to co-sleep while taking the proper precautions.
In some ways, I'm actually a little jealous of these people. I would love to snuggle with my baby all night and then, when he woke up, just roll over and stick a boob in his mouth. I even bought one of those co-sleeper things--it's basically a bassinet that's missing a side and it attaches to your bed, so you can just reach over and grab the baby when you need to nurse or comfort him. But that was a $130 lesson learned the hard way. He will only sleep on an incline, which is why he likes the swing.
But for now, I am just not going to worry about it. He's sleeping through the night, and there's no way I'm rocking that boat.
When you are pregnant, everyone who has a child relishes the chance to tell you how sleep deprived you are going to be. Believe me, my husband and I were well aware that we were not going to get any sleep. We knew it was going to suck. We knew it was going to suck big time.
Still, there's no way to really prepare for how you feel when you're going through it. To put it bluntly, it's torture. Especially if you're breastfeeding. In the beginning, they eat every couple of ours, for like an hour at a time, so you can really only sleep in one-hour increments. In our case this turned out to be a pretty brief period, thank god--Baby S is really a pretty good little sleeper--but even when he started sleeping for longer stretches, I still never got more than three hours of uninterrupted sleep for the longest time.
There is a reason that sleep deprivation is used to brutalize prisoners and terror suspects into submission. Because it's fucking torture. My husband and I started referring to Baby S as Zero Dark Baby. We were both irritable; we snapped at each other a lot, and I was prone to fits of weeping. There were a couple of times where I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown.
And then, he just did it. About three nights ago, he slept from 11 p.m. to 6:30. (Unfortunately, I woke up involuntarily at 4:30, out of habit; when I realized what time it was I tore out of bed in a panic to make sure he was still breathing.) The next night, he went from 10:30 to 5:30. Last night, 10:30 to 6:30. I have heard that babies will sometimes do this for a few nights and then revert back to middle of the night feedings; I hope this isn't the case. Because let me tell you, this has been the most welcome development EVER. I feel like throwing a goddamned ticker-tape parade.
What we haven't quite worked out is WHERE he sleeps. For now, and as he has done for most nights since we brought him home, he sleeps in the swing. It has proven to be the only place he will sleep. This is less than ideal because the swing is a bit cumbersome to bring into our bedroom--and anyway, our bedroom is freezing cold--so right now, my husband sleeps on the couch next to the swing, I sleep in the bedroom, and he brings the baby to me for middle of the night feedings.
I'd like nothing more than for us all to be in the same room, my husband sleeping next to me in our marvelous new bed that we bought just before Sam was born. And we've tried to make this happen a few times, wheeling the bassinet up to the bedside and turning on a space heater. But the little twerp refuses to sleep in the bassinet. After about three nights of trying this, we just gave up.
I have learned, when you are in the throes of extreme sleep deprivation, you will do anything to get your baby to sleep. If your baby will only sleep when being held upside down by his feet over a fire, you'll do it.
I was always against co-sleeping, not because of the hippie-dippy aspect, but because I thought it was dangerous. Apparently, babies have died for people rolling over on them and smothering them. But then there are doctors out there who say that co-sleeping actually reduces the risk of SIDS. (Parenting books are so chock full of ridiculously conflicting information that it's honestly not worth reading them.) Anyway, I know lots of people who do it, and they basically told me the same thing--they were desperate to get some sleep, and it was the only way their baby would sleep. So they reluctantly gave in, making sure to take every precaution. It's probably more dangerous to have overtired parents who are in such a state of sleep deprivation that they could fall asleep anywhere and drop the baby than to co-sleep while taking the proper precautions.
In some ways, I'm actually a little jealous of these people. I would love to snuggle with my baby all night and then, when he woke up, just roll over and stick a boob in his mouth. I even bought one of those co-sleeper things--it's basically a bassinet that's missing a side and it attaches to your bed, so you can just reach over and grab the baby when you need to nurse or comfort him. But that was a $130 lesson learned the hard way. He will only sleep on an incline, which is why he likes the swing.
But for now, I am just not going to worry about it. He's sleeping through the night, and there's no way I'm rocking that boat.
Monday, March 25, 2013
He's here!!!
So anyone who might still be reading this can probably figure out why I haven't posted in a couple months. Baby S was born on January 26th! My water broke in the middle of the night, on the night of a full moon. We took a car service to the hospital, and after just a few short hours of intense labor (under 12 in total), he arrived! I had a normal vaginal delivery, and yes, I got an epidural, bu only after laboring for nine hours without one. And they turned it off for the actual pushing and birth. But it bought me three blissful, pain-free hours, during which I took the most refreshing nap of my life. I woke up energized and ready to push! In the end he had to be vaccumed out, which hurt like a motherfucker, but only for a few seconds. I tore, but not too badly. All in all it wasn't as bad as I'd feared, pain-wise.
There was drama in the hospital afterward though; I could not get him to latch on and his blood sugar dropped, which was terrifying. We had to supplement with formula, which made me feel like a failure. But he figured out the eating thing by the time we left to go home. Another scary thing was that they found a dimple near his spine that they said could be indicative of problems and might require neurosurgery to prevent paralysis. But they told us this on Saturday, and we had to wait until Monday to get the sonogram! It was agonizing. But it turned out to be fine, thank god.
So far being his mother has been overwhelming-exhausting and stressful and humbling and exhilarating all at once. I love him so fiercely it is almost more than I can bear. But I am so incredibly grateful that he is here.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Oh god.
So it turns out that people make things called "Diaper Cakes," which are apparently diapers and shit rolled up into the shape of a baby. WTF?
Naturally, Regretsy is all over this. Behold their hilarious take:
http://www.regretsy.com/2013/01/24/flashback-suffocakes/
Naturally, Regretsy is all over this. Behold their hilarious take:
http://www.regretsy.com/2013/01/24/flashback-suffocakes/
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