Having such a young baby during the winter stinks in a lot of ways. And not entirely in the ways I expected it to be difficult. X was born in mid-August, so he was three months old in November, and this is when I had to return to work.
So, X went into daycare at the beginning of the cold & flu season, and he has had a number of colds and viruses. One the one hand, he will ultimately benefit from having built up his immune system. On the other hand, it is no fun for the little guy to be sick, and it's also not very fun for us! Our scariest time was our ER visit with X when he had a virus called RSV. We were lucky, though, because he responded quite quickly and really well to the breathing treatment the nurse administered. It helped that X was pretty calm through all of the testing and treatments.
Another downside to all of this, is that hardly any of our friends have actually met Mr. X! We're hoping that the gorgeous spring-like weather we've been having here in the South will stick around. Was Punxatawney Phil right this year? Will spring be early? We hope so, so that we can introduce our favorite X Man to all of our friends, sans germs!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Weaning
We'll start this weekend. I don't think it will be that big a transition for us, since we only nurse once or twice a day at this point, anyway. It'll probably be harder on me, emotionally, than it will be on X for any reason. He loves his bottle. His bottle almost always has formula in it. I told myself that I would try for six months, and we have reached that point. I get so very little milk when I pump, and I know he doesn't get very much when he nurses -- we always follow up with a bottle.
So ends a beautiful chapter.
So ends a beautiful chapter.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Bath Time
Sometimes I feel neglectful that I don't bathe X more than once a week. I worry that his skin will get too dry, and he has had little patches of very dry skin through the winter, that I slather with Aquaphor. But then, he doesn't get very dirty (yet) and he is wipe-able, after all!
X hated baths for about the first four weeks of his life. He screamed through his first bath in the hospital, when the lovely volunteer lady showed us how to do it. He SCREAMED at home, when my husband and I were brave enough to try it on our own. His agitation made me jumpy, and his anxiety fed off of my own.
Then, we watched a video by Tracy Hogg (aka The Baby Whisperer), and the bath part of the video made it all worth it. The most important thing I learned was to slow down and help X enjoy the bath.
I approached the next bath with much trepidation. I started a lullaby CD, hoping the music would set a relaxing tone. I made sure the water was the right temperature. I let X test the water with his feet before I put him in his little bath tub. I went slowly, taking my time. And, to my delight, X totally dug it. He smiled, kicked his feet, splashed his hands. He didn't cry when I poured the water over his head after washing his hair. He was quiet and alert when I wrapped him up in his towel, smiling as I rubbed his head and brushed his hair.
Even now, while his baths are so infrequent, he knows what's coming when he hears the music and the water running, filling up the tub. He laughs and splashes, and cries when it is time to get out of the bath. A little gentleness has gone a long way.
Before I know it, we'll be making bubble mohawks and having dinosaur versus boat races. Then, before I know it, baths will once again become the enemy. In the meantime, I'll enjoy the splashing and laughing.
X hated baths for about the first four weeks of his life. He screamed through his first bath in the hospital, when the lovely volunteer lady showed us how to do it. He SCREAMED at home, when my husband and I were brave enough to try it on our own. His agitation made me jumpy, and his anxiety fed off of my own.
Then, we watched a video by Tracy Hogg (aka The Baby Whisperer), and the bath part of the video made it all worth it. The most important thing I learned was to slow down and help X enjoy the bath.
I approached the next bath with much trepidation. I started a lullaby CD, hoping the music would set a relaxing tone. I made sure the water was the right temperature. I let X test the water with his feet before I put him in his little bath tub. I went slowly, taking my time. And, to my delight, X totally dug it. He smiled, kicked his feet, splashed his hands. He didn't cry when I poured the water over his head after washing his hair. He was quiet and alert when I wrapped him up in his towel, smiling as I rubbed his head and brushed his hair.
Even now, while his baths are so infrequent, he knows what's coming when he hears the music and the water running, filling up the tub. He laughs and splashes, and cries when it is time to get out of the bath. A little gentleness has gone a long way.
Before I know it, we'll be making bubble mohawks and having dinosaur versus boat races. Then, before I know it, baths will once again become the enemy. In the meantime, I'll enjoy the splashing and laughing.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Secondhand
We were fortunate to receive so many baby accoutrements from friends whose own sons had outgrown their swings and Bumbos and clothes! A lot of our friends are big "pay it forward" types, and we felt grateful to be on the receiving end of their generosity.
There were several items I couldn't resist buying myself, though. I wanted X to have some new clothes that I picked especially for him. I remember being at Costco one day, and spotting the table laden with piles of Carter's baby clothes. It was impossible to resist. The tiny pants and one-piece outfits were too cute to pass up.
Now, the time has come for me to pay it forward again. I've become part of an online community where available items are posted, or needs are posted, and people just find one another and share what they have with those who need it. I know that there are lots of ways I could make money, consignment shops and yard sales, and whatnot. I just feel like my family is really very, very lucky. If I can give or send the things I no longer need to someone who does, then why not do it?
Some items, however, are too difficult to part with. I don't know if I will ever have a need for the tiny pants made out of monster-patterned fabric again, but I will hold on to them. Down the road, if the need arises, we will use them again. If not, we can always pass them along to someone who will use them.
There were several items I couldn't resist buying myself, though. I wanted X to have some new clothes that I picked especially for him. I remember being at Costco one day, and spotting the table laden with piles of Carter's baby clothes. It was impossible to resist. The tiny pants and one-piece outfits were too cute to pass up.
Now, the time has come for me to pay it forward again. I've become part of an online community where available items are posted, or needs are posted, and people just find one another and share what they have with those who need it. I know that there are lots of ways I could make money, consignment shops and yard sales, and whatnot. I just feel like my family is really very, very lucky. If I can give or send the things I no longer need to someone who does, then why not do it?
Some items, however, are too difficult to part with. I don't know if I will ever have a need for the tiny pants made out of monster-patterned fabric again, but I will hold on to them. Down the road, if the need arises, we will use them again. If not, we can always pass them along to someone who will use them.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Baptism
Today we had X baptized at our parish church, St. Andrew the Apostle. The baptism was during the Mass, and he was one of four babies receiving the sacrament today.
The whole thing was kind of a blur for me. I did note, though, that the water in the baptismal font was heated! So, it wasn't such a shock for the little ones, and nobody cried at the water being poured over their heads. Irish tradition says that it is lucky if the baby cries at his christening, because he's howling out all the bad spirits. Well, X didn't cry. In fact, he seemed pretty amused by the water, and the anointing oil, and all the people clapping and smiling at him.
Then, he fell asleep! It was the 9:30 a.m. Mass, after all. He is usually ready for his morning nap around 10:00 or 10:30 a.m., so...
In all, it was a lovely thing. My good friend that I have known since middle school came to stand up as his godmother, and my father-in-law stood in as proxy for his godfather, who couldn't be here. Funny enough, his godfather is his cousin, who is 25 years old! X was a surprise in many ways to us all.
We followed with a luncheon at our house, and X stayed awake all afternoon. Apparently, he didn't want to miss a second of what was going on while visitors were here. He cried and cried every time we tried to put him down for a nap.
He finally went down at 5:15 p.m. I wouldn't be surprised if he is down for the count, although I expect he will wake up in the night to nurse.
The whole thing was kind of a blur for me. I did note, though, that the water in the baptismal font was heated! So, it wasn't such a shock for the little ones, and nobody cried at the water being poured over their heads. Irish tradition says that it is lucky if the baby cries at his christening, because he's howling out all the bad spirits. Well, X didn't cry. In fact, he seemed pretty amused by the water, and the anointing oil, and all the people clapping and smiling at him.
Then, he fell asleep! It was the 9:30 a.m. Mass, after all. He is usually ready for his morning nap around 10:00 or 10:30 a.m., so...
In all, it was a lovely thing. My good friend that I have known since middle school came to stand up as his godmother, and my father-in-law stood in as proxy for his godfather, who couldn't be here. Funny enough, his godfather is his cousin, who is 25 years old! X was a surprise in many ways to us all.
We followed with a luncheon at our house, and X stayed awake all afternoon. Apparently, he didn't want to miss a second of what was going on while visitors were here. He cried and cried every time we tried to put him down for a nap.
He finally went down at 5:15 p.m. I wouldn't be surprised if he is down for the count, although I expect he will wake up in the night to nurse.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Le Pince, Bretodeau!
I watched Amelie the other day, as I often do, when I am a bit down in the dumps. I love the scene near the beginning when Amelie's good deed brings back the memory of the little boy who wins all of the marbles at recess, only to lose them all at the hands of a teacher, who pinches his ear and drags him back into line at the sound of the bell. "Le pince, Bretodeau!"
Minutes after X was born, I pried open one of his tiny hands. His fist was so small and so tightly closed! When I touched his palm with my finger, his own fingers clamped down on mine. It was like a vise. His hands were so strong!
In his early weeks, whenever he would get upset, he would use his hands and pinch his face. I was so afraid that he would scratch himself, since I could never uncurl his fingers long enough to clip his razorlike nails. Indeed, he did manage to injure himself with his nails pretty regularly, especially in one of his moments of what looked like panic, or agony. His little red face, his cheeks in the grip of his pulling fingers. It broke my heart! I would gently pull his hands away, and tell him, "Don't pinch, don't pinch."
Now, he uses that same pinch, but on me instead! At about three months old, he started pinching the backs of my arms as I laid him on the changing table. Now, he pinches me while he is nursing. It's hard not to shout, those strong, tiny fingers gripping my soft flesh! I sometimes develop little fingerprint bruises where he has gripped me. I hope he grows out of this strange little habit, but I do not want to forget it. My little lobster. Le pince!
Minutes after X was born, I pried open one of his tiny hands. His fist was so small and so tightly closed! When I touched his palm with my finger, his own fingers clamped down on mine. It was like a vise. His hands were so strong!
In his early weeks, whenever he would get upset, he would use his hands and pinch his face. I was so afraid that he would scratch himself, since I could never uncurl his fingers long enough to clip his razorlike nails. Indeed, he did manage to injure himself with his nails pretty regularly, especially in one of his moments of what looked like panic, or agony. His little red face, his cheeks in the grip of his pulling fingers. It broke my heart! I would gently pull his hands away, and tell him, "Don't pinch, don't pinch."
Now, he uses that same pinch, but on me instead! At about three months old, he started pinching the backs of my arms as I laid him on the changing table. Now, he pinches me while he is nursing. It's hard not to shout, those strong, tiny fingers gripping my soft flesh! I sometimes develop little fingerprint bruises where he has gripped me. I hope he grows out of this strange little habit, but I do not want to forget it. My little lobster. Le pince!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Milk
I'm glad that my sister's new baby is so close in age to my own Mr. X. As first time mothers, the two of us can talk and ask questions about one another's experiences as we learn to be mothers to our children.
My sister is nursing her daughter, and had the usual troubles at first -- sore nipples was the biggest problem. Then, her milk came in! She was painfully engorged, and nursing could only relieve that feeling so much. She didn't have a breast pump, so she called one of her girlfriends who helped her out by picking one up at Target. She said that she gets really engorged, and so if little Ramona doesn't nurse right on schedule, she pumps and produces about 3 oz. each time, which is really great for being so early on. As of now, it looks like she will have no problem maintaining a plentiful supply, and so Ramona will be exclusively breastfed, or at least consume breastmilk only.
I, on the other hand, wanted to exclusively breastfeed X, but ended up not being able to do so. I think I read somewhere, in passing, that PCOS can cause issues with milk production, but I never followed up on it because at first, everything seemed to be going okay. Looking back, though, I never had the moment where I went,"OH MY GOD, MY BOOBS!!!" from the engorgement of the milk coming in. In fact, I think I only got really engorged once or twice.
At any rate, at about two or three weeks of age, X got SO hungry that he just cried and cried, even though I was trying to nurse him whenever he gave the slightest indication that he might be hungry. So, I finally broke down and consented to giving him some of the formula that we received as samples at the hospital. He gulped it down like he hadn't eaten since birth! I knew at that moment that I would do whatever it took to make sure X was fed and, more important, satisfied after each feeding.
Now, six months in, he is primarily formula fed. I do still pump at work and we nurse in the morning and at night, but I know that I just don't produce enough to feed him exclusively with breast milk. I'm glad I have stuck with it, though, and that I am able to breastfeed at all. I'll be sad when he weans himself from nursing. Until then, I'll cuddle him close and love every second of that special time that he and I have together.
My sister is nursing her daughter, and had the usual troubles at first -- sore nipples was the biggest problem. Then, her milk came in! She was painfully engorged, and nursing could only relieve that feeling so much. She didn't have a breast pump, so she called one of her girlfriends who helped her out by picking one up at Target. She said that she gets really engorged, and so if little Ramona doesn't nurse right on schedule, she pumps and produces about 3 oz. each time, which is really great for being so early on. As of now, it looks like she will have no problem maintaining a plentiful supply, and so Ramona will be exclusively breastfed, or at least consume breastmilk only.
I, on the other hand, wanted to exclusively breastfeed X, but ended up not being able to do so. I think I read somewhere, in passing, that PCOS can cause issues with milk production, but I never followed up on it because at first, everything seemed to be going okay. Looking back, though, I never had the moment where I went,"OH MY GOD, MY BOOBS!!!" from the engorgement of the milk coming in. In fact, I think I only got really engorged once or twice.
At any rate, at about two or three weeks of age, X got SO hungry that he just cried and cried, even though I was trying to nurse him whenever he gave the slightest indication that he might be hungry. So, I finally broke down and consented to giving him some of the formula that we received as samples at the hospital. He gulped it down like he hadn't eaten since birth! I knew at that moment that I would do whatever it took to make sure X was fed and, more important, satisfied after each feeding.
Now, six months in, he is primarily formula fed. I do still pump at work and we nurse in the morning and at night, but I know that I just don't produce enough to feed him exclusively with breast milk. I'm glad I have stuck with it, though, and that I am able to breastfeed at all. I'll be sad when he weans himself from nursing. Until then, I'll cuddle him close and love every second of that special time that he and I have together.
Friday, February 4, 2011
I Meant Well
The other day, thanks to the glorious Internets, I reached out to a mama whose baby has a very serious heart defect called Shone's Complex. To all outward appearances, little M is a happy, healthy, gorgeous baby boy. His mama shared her experiences with a group on Babycenter, asking for prayers a while back.
To my delight, she posted some recent photos of her little guy, and I sent her a message asking after M and asking if there was any improvement. She did take the time to message me back, and explained that they will see a pediatric cardiologist later this month. M had open heart surgery in October, and at the time his diagnosis was made, the doctors predicted he wouldn't make it through the winter.
All of this breaks my heart. I hate that anyone has to go through it.
Then, I think I put my foot in my mouth. Because, really, what can you say to someone who may only have a few more precious weeks or months with her darling baby? I said something well-meaning, but probably that could have been interpreted as somewhat insensitive. Then, I apologized. Then I wanted to apologize again for my lameness. But then, it would have turned into a whole thing like the scene in Swingers where the guy calls the girl too many times and leaves a bunch of voicemails... Ugh. I just feel lame. But, I know that this mama, who is probably just soaking up all the lovely moments she has with M, is probably used to well-intentioned, but awkward statements. I hope she's giving her little guy as many kisses and hugs as can fit in a day, and forgetting about the strange and awkward things that people who know about her situation must say each and every day.
So, really, all I can offer are extra prayers today, and every day for the babies who need miracles. Scarlett and M, I am thinking about you both.
To my delight, she posted some recent photos of her little guy, and I sent her a message asking after M and asking if there was any improvement. She did take the time to message me back, and explained that they will see a pediatric cardiologist later this month. M had open heart surgery in October, and at the time his diagnosis was made, the doctors predicted he wouldn't make it through the winter.
All of this breaks my heart. I hate that anyone has to go through it.
Then, I think I put my foot in my mouth. Because, really, what can you say to someone who may only have a few more precious weeks or months with her darling baby? I said something well-meaning, but probably that could have been interpreted as somewhat insensitive. Then, I apologized. Then I wanted to apologize again for my lameness. But then, it would have turned into a whole thing like the scene in Swingers where the guy calls the girl too many times and leaves a bunch of voicemails... Ugh. I just feel lame. But, I know that this mama, who is probably just soaking up all the lovely moments she has with M, is probably used to well-intentioned, but awkward statements. I hope she's giving her little guy as many kisses and hugs as can fit in a day, and forgetting about the strange and awkward things that people who know about her situation must say each and every day.
So, really, all I can offer are extra prayers today, and every day for the babies who need miracles. Scarlett and M, I am thinking about you both.