Matters of the Heart: Update!

Have I mentioned that Clare’s absolute favorite show is “Wheel of Fortune”? She likes it even better than “Sesame Street,” despite the fact that Elmo has yet to make an appearance. When you think about it, though, “Wheel” is the perfect show for little kids. There are all sorts of interesting colors and lights and constant noises: bells, clapping, cheering. It is totally innocent. No violence or swearing to be seen. (Or heard.) Although, I thought there might be some the other day when the contestant had the following puzzle in the bonus round and failed to solve it: Magic  _and. For shame! Have you never read Harry Potter? The contestants on the show always say a little bit about themselves, and it never fail to mention their “wonderful” husband or wife. They always use the same word. I wonder if they are coached. I told Ben I want to be a contestant and when Pat asks me about myself, I’ll say, “Well Pat, I have been married to my mediocre husband Ben for 6 years.”

This, of course, would be a lie. Ben is a wonderful husband, most of the time. I spend a lot of time one-on-one with Clare, partly because I am home two days a week, and partly because Ben has a lot of evening commitments. And I think I have it pretty well under control. When it comes to a big event or medical appointment or something of that sort, though, I am so grateful I am not a single parent. I don’t know how they do it.

We took Clare to see the pediatric cardiologist last week to discuss the results of her Echo. I was nervous, even though Clare’s pediatrician told me not to worry. (Ha! She obviously does not know me AT ALL.) Clare has two unrelated heart issues. The first is a heart murmur, which is nothing to worry about. It turns out about half the people I know have heart murmurs, and the cardiologist assured us it is no big deal.  The second issue is called a patent foramen ovale or PFO. This is a hole between the left and right atria (upper chambers) of the heart. Everyone has this hole before we are born. It allows blood to go around the lungs of an unborn baby, who doesn’t use its lungs while in the womb. It is supposed to close soon after birth, but sometimes it just doesn’t.  This condition is also not really a big deal, it turns out. It sounds a lot scarier than it actually is. The doctor said later in life Clare may have some restrictions, like not being allowed to go deep sea diving (shucks!), but for now there is nothing to worry about, unless she has some kind of other cardiac-related incident or illness. So she’s fine. But as a mother, you just don’t want to hear that your baby as ANYTHING wrong with them, especially their heart. This is where it helps to have a rational husband by your side: sometimes I need that extra confirmation, need to make sure he heard what I did, that I didn’t miss something.

So, fingers crossed, we are done with that for the next four years. Then she will repeat the Echo to see if the hole has closed. The doctor also said that recommendations in medicine change all the time, so it is good to check back in.  I just hope they have “Kung Fu Panda” playing next time, too. Although, Clare will be five by then: plenty old enough for me to tell her to just sit still for the love of God! I can hear it already.

"Just give me a computer and I'll be quiet, I swear."

On Breastfeeding

Three days after Clare was born, we decided to take her to Romano’s, the Italian restaurant in Evansville. Ben’s parents were in town to meet their first grandchild, and I wanted to get out of the house. I was sure it would be no problem – she’d just sit in her car seat. We got to the restaurant and put in our order. Then, the crying began. I took Clare out to the car and sat with her in the backseat. I tried to nurse her. It didn’t work.  She stared up at me, crying in what – frustration, hunger, anger, tiredness? I had no idea, but pretty soon I was sobbing too. There we were, in the backseat of the car staring at each other, both crying our eyes out.  I felt so overwhelmed – trying to nurse and deal with my raging hormones.  I couldn’t believe how strongly I loved this crying little stranger in my lap, who I couldn’t seem to please.

That night, Clare hardly slept. We thought maybe it was gas. Ben held her on her stomach. On her side. On her back. Nothing helped. The next day, my in-laws were back at my house. I spent most of the day hiding in our bedroom, trying to feed Clare, who was still antsy, upset, tired. Finally, I called the hospital and talked to a nurse. Try taking a hot shower, she said. It will help letdown your milk. This was her only advice. A few hours later, we realized Clare hadn’t peed in 24 hours. We called the pediatrician on call, who instructed us to bring Clare back to the hospital.

They weighed her when we got there – she was down to 7 pounds, 12 ounces. (She had been nearly 9 pounds when we left the hospital.) They asked me to try nursing her, so they could see what was happening. Clare was not latching on properly – she can’t tell your nipple is in her mouth, they said. They gave me a latch assist, showed me the football hold, and put Clare in my lap. The girl practically dive-bombed me when she smelled/saw that milk. I can still picture her eyes going wide, lunging for me. (“Mama’s got the good stuff,” said the nurse.) After that, she slept peacefully. We went to Target for more latch-assists, even though the nurse promised we wouldn’t need them after a day or two. She was right.

I was so relieved. It took 24 hours, but we figured out the problem and the solution. I was also annoyed, because I tried so hard to prepare for nursing AND the nurse at the hospital told me I was doing it correctly before we left. Obviously, I wasn’t.

Before Clare was born, I read everything I could on breastfeeding. I was told it wasn’t as intuitive as you might think – which turned out to be oh so true. That first weekend was proof of that. You can read all you want, but you won’t really get it until you do it. 

The whole topic nursing vs. formula is so fraught with judgment.  Some of the books I read basically said you should be put in jail if you don’t breastfeed (La Leche League, I am looking at you.) How ridiculous. Everyone needs to do what is right for them.  I also finally realized it is okay to ignore the books: as long as Clare was growing and alert, it didn’t matter that she only nursed from one breast per feeding, despite what the books say.

For us, despite the rocky start, nursing has worked wonderfully. (Except when Clare first got teeth. The less said about that the better.) It is free, convenient, and comforting for both of us.

Now, though, Clare is almost one – and I am getting ready to wean her. I am back to reading everything I can on the topic, and worrying about the right time to do it. And how to do it. And that she might not ever want to do it. Or that she will give it up too quickly, and won’t want to cuddle with me anymore.  But oh, the luxury of being able to have a glass of wine whenever I want. I am looking forward to that. And to having my body to myself for at least a few months.  Just like with learning how to nurse, I feel overwhelmed. I wish I knew what  I was doing.

Just like with learning how to nurse, though, I will wean her. One way or another. It will all work out.

Random Bits and Pieces: March

We took Clare to the park for the first time two weeks ago. We put her in the swing, fully expecting her to love it. I pushed her back and forth a few times. And she just sat there, staring at the older kids playing on the merry-go-round. She looked so jealous that she couldn't run around with them. She could have cared less about the swing.

We did coax one smile out of her, though.

***

Clare had her 9-month well-baby check-up on Friday. She is still long and lean - 50th percentile for weight and 90th for height. The doctor said she is on track to be a tall girl, like her mom. Maybe she won't be a gymnast after all, despite what everyone at daycare thinks. (She likes to do the splits.) She's had a runny nose for two weeks. The doctor said to expect it to last at least three or four. Yay.

***

She had a bad day on Saturday. It was one of those times when she was just inconsolable. I was so frustrated - with her, with the situation, with my utter inability to fix whatever was wrong. Was it the broccoli I had given her earlier in the day? Another tooth coming in? The fact that she started the day by banging her head on her crib, resulting in quite the little shiner?

We took turns rocking her, I nursed her, we tried laying down with her on the bed. We put her in the car seat and drove through the countryside. None of it worked. Finally, we gave her some Tylenol and I sat with her in the rocking chair. In no time, she was asleep, head on my chest. She hasn't slept like that since she was a newborn. When she woke up, she was back to being our happy girl.

***

On Friday night, I went to see Avenue Q with my friend Amanda. If you've never heard of this musical, let's just say its...well...raunchy. And hilarious. It was so nice having a night out. Those are so few and far between these days. On the drive home, Amanda and I were discussing our various states of happiness with things in our lives. She asked me if I felt fully satisfied with my life, now that I have Clare.  I didn't answer right away, because honestly? I don't always feel satisfied, or happy, although I feel like I should. I have nothing to complain about, really. I guess that is just part of being human, though. Not always feeling satisfied, even when you should be happy with what you have. And I don't mean to say that I am not satisfied with Ben and Clare. Because I am. Completely. There are just other things that I am sometimes less than thrilled about. 

And how could this little face not make you happy, no matter what else is going on?

Teeth!

She has one coming in. Maybe two. We had her 4-month check-up on Wednesday, and the doctor was surprised to hear Clare is teething. According to the doctor, most babies don't get teeth until they are at least 6 months old. But hey, she is the size of a 6 month old, so she might as well act like one too. (Stats: 14.4 pounds, 26 inches long - that's the 97th percentile for height and 62nd percentile for weight.)

She has been a bit cranky, but not too bad, all things considered. (Knock on wood.) She is drooling A LOT, and gumming down on everything, including Mommy. Last night, we tried the frozen wet washcloth, and she loved chewing/sucking on that. What a cheap, easy solution! I have no idea how teething works, but I assume she'll get a little break once these teeth come in?

Ben dropped our camera on the ground and it is busted, so until I get a new one - crappy phone photos!

Hmmm...why is Mommy hovering over me and Sophie with her phone?

Open up, Clare! Show the world that tooth!

Ta da! (Now, lets learn to chew on something OTHER than Mommy. How about Sophie? That's what she's for, after all.)

Clare's First Day

It was almost as if she knew it was the night before her first day at daycare. Clare slept the way I always slept the night before my first day of school - fitfully. Each time she woke up, she was happy...just grinning up at me from her crib.

I was less happy. I wanted to practice my morning routine, so I set my alarm for 5:45. After a 3 a.m. feeding, the alarm went off way to soon. I got ready, but when it was time for Clare to wake up, she wasn't having it. I think she will be a difficult one to get up for school someday.

I took her to daycare, where we met Annette, one of the teachers in her room. She showed me around.  I tried to make myself get Clare out of her carseat and leave, but I kept thinking of reasons to stay. More questions, more things to put away. Finally, I handed Clare off. As I left, I saw her grinning up at Annette. Of course, Annette has glasses, one of Clare's favorite things. I cried the whole way home.

I spent the day shopping and spa-ing. And worrying, worrying, worrying. Even at the Spa, I couldn't put my phone down. Luckily, I didn't ruin my nails. (Yet.)

And my toes match!

When I went to pick Clare up, she was busy eating. She looked at me, and kept eating. Annette informed me that Clare was an easy baby. She spent the day smiling at everyone. When she got tired, Annette put her in her crib, and she put herself to sleep. Wait. What? She never does that for me! If she is not all the way out when I put her down, those little eyes pop open and she won't go to sleep until I rock her. (I know, I know - bad habit that I need to correct soon.) Well, I was relieved. I am glad Clare enjoyed her day and wasn't upset to be away from home and Mom.


Then we got home, and I got this:

Life iz hard.

Sigh. And yet - I couldn't be happier. And now I have to go, I hear Clare calling for me, in her adorable "annoyed" voice.

Three Weeks from Today

I got a call from Clare's daycare yesterday, confirming her first day. I have had this day in the back of my mind for the past few weeks, and the thought of dropping her off there and driving away makes me sick to my stomach.

So I decided to look in one of the baby books I have to see if they have any information on what to send to daycare with your infant. THIS DID NOT HELP AT ALL. Here is a quote from the book, which by the way is "The Baby Book" by the Drs. Sears. "Day-care centers are not advisable for infants under one year because of too many kids, too few staff members, and the increased chances of contagious illness at a child's most infection-vulnerable time." Needless to say, Clare is going to a daycare center. What is their preferable solution? Having the baby cared for in-home, by a family member or au pair. And yes, this would be great. However, it is not something that will work for us. The authors also go on at length about how it is best for the baby to be with its mother, and helpfully points out how you will likely miss milestones because they can happen at daycare. This is all probably true. So yeah, it is guilt city over here.

The thing is, I don't have to go back to work. Financially, we could make do without my income. But truthfully, I want to go back.  Aside from the whole daycare situation, I like the idea of having a few days a week that are baby free, and I can interact with adults and do things other than change diapers. Does that make me a terrible mother? I don't really think so. The daycare center where we are taking Clare is clean, organized, and I felt really good about it when we visited last spring. The kids all seemed happy. I think she will be just fine. I think I need to stop reading some of these books, other than as a quick reference to answer questions like, "why in the world is that poop green?"And I should say, this book has been quite helpful when it comes to answering those types of questions. We have used it a lot over the last nine weeks.

I wish I could be in two places at once. Wouldn't it be great if we could clone ourselves we could be home with baby and work?

Now, on a happier note, here is Clare rocking her awesome arm warmers from her Aunt Andri. She is going to be the most stylish girl at daycare.

Six Weeks

The last six weeks have been like the most crazy roller coaster I have ever been on. It has been wonderful and terrifying at the same time.

The last few days I have been especially tired. I don't know if the adrenaline has finally worn off or if it is just my mood, but I have been feeling a lot more inadequate as a mom then I did at first. (Well, except the first week when I had no clue.)  I am constantly worrying - is she eating enough? Sleeping enough? Sleeping too much? When will her baby acne go away? Am I eating the right foods so she gets the right nutrients? She is rubbing her ear - does she have an ear infection? Will I ever go out for drinks with my friends again? What happened to my life? Will I ever feel like myself again?

I remember my friend CMS telling me how isolating maternity leave can be, but I don't think I really knew what she meant until the last week or so.  The days I am home alone, without Ben, are long. I really miss the social interaction of being at work. I feel guilty when I put Clare in her bassinet so I can check my email, but sometimes I just need a break.  I feel guilty that I feel resentful when she starts crying and wants to be fed, even though she JUST ATE. However, when I think about leaving Clare at daycare and driving away I feel sick. I know it will be good for me to go back and be in the world of adults - but UGH. I feel like there is no good answer.

Then today I read this, and laughed my ass off.  It is amazing how one little thing can make your day. Oh, and this:

Fussiness

Over the past few days, Clare has started doing this thing where she'll get this incredibly sad look on her face, her lower lip quivering, and then she'll start crying a pathetic little cry.  As soon as she gets what she wants (if I can figure out what that is) she stops immediately and is perfectly happy. The problem is, I can't seem to figure out what she wants most of the time. I try to feed her, she rejects it. I change her diaper, she is happy for a few minutes and then cries again. I make sure her clothes are dry. (This one does not stand for sitting in damp clothes for any length of time. Although I guess I can't blame her.) I sit her up so she can burp, or I put her on my shoulder. I try to rock her.  Nothing seems to work. Since we were traveling yesterday, I blamed it on over stimulation and general tiredness. But alas, today is more of the same. Any moms out there have any advice on what to do with a fussy baby? Or do I just have to live with it?

What? It's my party and I'll cry if I want to.