I am having fun with this little bruiser (hello! 17 pounds, 26.5 inches at 4 months!) who is currently sitting next to me wide-eyed and wakeful at a stupid time of morning after a night of almost constant wakefulness. This, after weeks of waking due to teething pains, and I'm starting to go nuts/worry/panic/younameit.
After a night like last night, a mom does one of three things: beats her head against the nearest wall, collapses into a crying heap in the corner, or hits up Google to figure out whether this is the dreaded 4 month sleep regression. . .
I did the latter. Here's what I found: a great article by Clever Father and a possibly even better article by Alexis Dubief.
If this doesn't end in a few weeks, I really will go nuts. Until then, patience dear (sleep-deprived) mother, patience.
~Nichole
10.03.2012
7.28.2012
The Sum of All Kisses
I was slow dancing the baby to sleep tonight and I looked down at his face and wanted to kiss it and kiss it but I knew that one loose strand of hair would tickle his cheek and wake him up and we'd have to start the dance all over again. . .
So instead, in my head, I did what every mother must do at the end of the day: I asked, silently, "were you kissed enough today? were you hugged enough today? were you loved enough today?" That timeless question that connects us with an ageless line of mothers before us.
My heart feelers reached out to touch the hearts of my children - the one I was slow dancing into sleep and the one I had just laid down to sleep, our heads touching, trading whispers of "I wuv you bery much momma" and "I love you very much my son" - to take their love temperature. And in my mind, I replayed the kisses of the day.
I know I loaded C up with kisses right before bed, and in the quiet moments getting him dressed for bed, but he had to ask me to "put the baby down and hug me!" today. He gets significantly less face time from the momma who used to rush in every morning to rouse him and hold onto him like the world might end in 10 minutes and then I would hug and kiss him into full wakefulness.
And the baby somehow always gets less mom time when Dada's off and C's afoot. He misses me. I'm calmer when I'm with him and he's calmer when he's with me. We were made for each other.
We were ALL made for each other. C has taken to saying "we are family!" when saying his "I wuv" yous. And indeed we are. . .
I am blessed enough to be able to bear witness to these lives - to provide every kiss and hug, to make a mental tally, and write the record in my heart.
And in theirs.
And when all is written, I hope it is complete.
~Nichole
So instead, in my head, I did what every mother must do at the end of the day: I asked, silently, "were you kissed enough today? were you hugged enough today? were you loved enough today?" That timeless question that connects us with an ageless line of mothers before us.
My heart feelers reached out to touch the hearts of my children - the one I was slow dancing into sleep and the one I had just laid down to sleep, our heads touching, trading whispers of "I wuv you bery much momma" and "I love you very much my son" - to take their love temperature. And in my mind, I replayed the kisses of the day.
I know I loaded C up with kisses right before bed, and in the quiet moments getting him dressed for bed, but he had to ask me to "put the baby down and hug me!" today. He gets significantly less face time from the momma who used to rush in every morning to rouse him and hold onto him like the world might end in 10 minutes and then I would hug and kiss him into full wakefulness.
And the baby somehow always gets less mom time when Dada's off and C's afoot. He misses me. I'm calmer when I'm with him and he's calmer when he's with me. We were made for each other.
We were ALL made for each other. C has taken to saying "we are family!" when saying his "I wuv" yous. And indeed we are. . .
I am blessed enough to be able to bear witness to these lives - to provide every kiss and hug, to make a mental tally, and write the record in my heart.
And in theirs.
And when all is written, I hope it is complete.
~Nichole
7.02.2012
The August of My Awakening
Sometimes. . . .
Well sometimes I am just so so tired.
And sometimes. . . .
Sometimes I
remember how lucky I am.
Usually when
I am kissing C’s cheeks at night.
Or inhaling
the newborn baby scent off of A.
Having Baby
A here with us makes me remember all over again what a blessing it all is.
I look at my
sons and when I really allow myself to think on it, I am absolutely mystified.
The fervency with which I love them astounds me sometimes.
But what has
me really, truly awestruck is that I get to be these boys’ mother, to watch their
personalities unfurl themselves right before my very eyes, to stand witness as
the pure, undiluted essences of their beings flourish and fill up their growing
bodies.
Words
stumble and fall weak in the knees, daunted by the task of expressing the
emergence of a body, the rushing forth of spirit, the creation of a whole new
being, and precisely how it is that one becomes a mother.
Yes, the creation
of a body is an extraordinary wonder to be sure, but guiding the development of
these souls?
It is THE
miracle of my life.
~Nichole
6.12.2012
On BFing
Alternate title for this post? "BFing is making me effing crazy!"
Oh the things you learn with your first baby. . .
For instance, I learned that being nonchalant about breastfeeding (i.e. setting in your mind that "I'll just pump, no biggie" while you're pregnant) is not necessarily the best approach. People (including every LC at the hospital) are a strange mixture of aghast and amazed that I pumped exclusively for a full year with C.
This time around, I have been more committed to making breastfeeding work. Then, I had a baby who literally did NOT know how to suck. We had to finger feed him in order to train him the proper way to suck. Going from finger feeding to bottle feeding was a huge triumph, and going from bottle feeding to nursing with a shield was also pretty awesome. (Why oh why didn't I know about shields with C?)
Only, my kid is an inefficient nurser. So, he takes a LONG time to nurse, then doesn't get enough because he quickly tires and falls asleep since he has to work harder at breastfeeding than he does at bottle feeding. So, then he cluster feeds, sometimes every half hour for hours. Which makes me a bit crazy.
Take yesterday, for instance. With C on a field trip to Nana & Tata's house, I took the opportunity to nurse (and hold my baby) as much as I could. Which was pretty much all afternoon. At one point, he nursed for a full hour, then took another ounce and a half by bottle, then still woke up for more within an hour. The babe ate every hour between noon and 5 p.m. At which point I was pretty exhausted, in need of a bonafide nap, and also sort of all what the what?
I sent a dispatch to my friend asking for moral support:
I need some reassurance that it's not awful that I prefer pumping and bottle feeding because I have an inefficient nurser who not only needs a shield to nurse and cluster feeds, but takes FOREVER at the breast . . .
And that wonderfully seasoned mommy of four did what friends do: she reassured me.
Then, something sort of magical happened. I gave up nursing for the day and Baby A started routinely eating 3 ounces every two hours and sleeping in between. (Hello two week-old eating pattern we've been waiting for!)
I'm not giving up! I'm going to try every day and continue to hope he finally "gets it" the way I've heard some babies magically do. In the meantime, I am thankful for a body that remembers how this went last time and has made a fantastic supply in response. (I seriously freeze about 8-12 ounces every day.)
Oh. Also saving my sanity? Besides wonderful in-laws who take my kid? The swing. Hooray for the swing!
~Nichole
Oh the things you learn with your first baby. . .
For instance, I learned that being nonchalant about breastfeeding (i.e. setting in your mind that "I'll just pump, no biggie" while you're pregnant) is not necessarily the best approach. People (including every LC at the hospital) are a strange mixture of aghast and amazed that I pumped exclusively for a full year with C.
This time around, I have been more committed to making breastfeeding work. Then, I had a baby who literally did NOT know how to suck. We had to finger feed him in order to train him the proper way to suck. Going from finger feeding to bottle feeding was a huge triumph, and going from bottle feeding to nursing with a shield was also pretty awesome. (Why oh why didn't I know about shields with C?)
Only, my kid is an inefficient nurser. So, he takes a LONG time to nurse, then doesn't get enough because he quickly tires and falls asleep since he has to work harder at breastfeeding than he does at bottle feeding. So, then he cluster feeds, sometimes every half hour for hours. Which makes me a bit crazy.
Take yesterday, for instance. With C on a field trip to Nana & Tata's house, I took the opportunity to nurse (and hold my baby) as much as I could. Which was pretty much all afternoon. At one point, he nursed for a full hour, then took another ounce and a half by bottle, then still woke up for more within an hour. The babe ate every hour between noon and 5 p.m. At which point I was pretty exhausted, in need of a bonafide nap, and also sort of all what the what?
I sent a dispatch to my friend asking for moral support:
I need some reassurance that it's not awful that I prefer pumping and bottle feeding because I have an inefficient nurser who not only needs a shield to nurse and cluster feeds, but takes FOREVER at the breast . . .
And that wonderfully seasoned mommy of four did what friends do: she reassured me.
Then, something sort of magical happened. I gave up nursing for the day and Baby A started routinely eating 3 ounces every two hours and sleeping in between. (Hello two week-old eating pattern we've been waiting for!)
I'm not giving up! I'm going to try every day and continue to hope he finally "gets it" the way I've heard some babies magically do. In the meantime, I am thankful for a body that remembers how this went last time and has made a fantastic supply in response. (I seriously freeze about 8-12 ounces every day.)
Oh. Also saving my sanity? Besides wonderful in-laws who take my kid? The swing. Hooray for the swing!
~Nichole
6.11.2012
Things You Miss
My pregnancy with Baby A was much easier than my pregnancy with C in almost every way (save morning sickness). Even so, toward the end, I was still feeling a little bit "done". The high bp certainly didn't help. Oh, and the swollen feet. And the feeling huge. And my missing mojo.
While pregnant, you truly think it is impossible to miss a single thing about. . . well, being pregnant.
And you'd be wrong.
Here are some things I'll truly miss:
-thick, long, luxurious hair that does not shed or fall out
-no menstrual cycles for 10 months (I somehow always forget about that part)
-no need for birth control
-most excellent skin
-not having to suck my stomach in
~Nichole
While pregnant, you truly think it is impossible to miss a single thing about. . . well, being pregnant.
And you'd be wrong.
Here are some things I'll truly miss:
-thick, long, luxurious hair that does not shed or fall out
-no menstrual cycles for 10 months (I somehow always forget about that part)
-no need for birth control
-most excellent skin
-not having to suck my stomach in
~Nichole
6.10.2012
Second Birth
In the last weeks of my pregnancy with A, I heard myself tell my two OBs - old and new - that I would be happy just repeating my delivery with C, minus the hemorrhage and the sick husband.
So, after my ER visit, I was scheduled to be induced on 5/24 at 39 weeks for high blood pressure. Because my complaint was heart palpitations, they never actually monitored the baby when my blood pressure was so high, so I left the hospital knowing only that my bp was in the normal range, but not having any idea what having bp spike like that was doing to the baby. I was anxious about an induction, having heard horror stories of failed or stalled inductions, but I was more anxious about something happening to my baby. I had to make a conscious decision to trust my (new) doc, have faith, and trust my body.
At my doctor's appointment on Wednesday the 23rd, I was completely closed and not effaced. To my surprise, my doc didn't give me an out, so I was still scheduled for a 3 a.m. induction the following morning. At 10:00 p.m. the hospital called and we got bumped to "early afternoon". We planned an entirely different morning, one that was leisurely and included homemade crepes and playing outside with our kid. So, we stayed up WAY too late talking and trying "natural" ways to get ready for labor.
After about 3 hours of sleep, we got a call at 5 a.m. saying they had a bed and to come on in. We checked in at the hospital at 8 a.m. and went straight to a LDR room (no triage!), where they started an IV and checked me. I was 2cm and 60% effaced! So, no need for Cervidil: I went straight to Pit around 9 a.m.
My doc came in and explained process and info about breaking my water, which made me entirely nervous and I told her I was really hesitant to start the clock. She explained that the risks of c-section were the same either way (about 80% at that point) and that it might help baby descend gradually and help me get more dilated and effaced. I confirmed with her that the baby wasn't posterior and then agreed to have her break my water. (That hook? Youch!) Once things really got going (i.e. uncomfortable), I sat on a birthing ball for several hours and worked through contractions while M and I watched "contraction TV" and read Us Weekly (me) and a book about succession planning (him).
The next question was when to get the epidural. I didn't want to get it too early and I really wanted to stay mobile as long as possible. By 12, the nurse had upped the Pit and my contractions started to have teeth. After she got back from her lunch break, she upped it again and by around 1:30 p.m., I was having a lot of back labor and asked for the epidural. The epi was placed around 2:15 and when I was checked right after, I was 5cm and 80% effaced.
Then, I started going numb in my chest and arms, which made me itch the way a foot does when it falls asleep. I told my nurse I was numb up to my breastline. She cut the epidural off and got the anesthesiologist back in the room. Once they got it adjusted, I progressed really quickly from there and by around 3:30, I was feeling pressure and was ready to push.
Two rounds of pushing and 10 minutes later, my second son was born! I went from 2 cm to having a baby in less than banker's hours. It was the best labor and delivery I could have hoped for (and one that I would TOTALLY do over again)!
Aside from a poor bruised nose from being pushed so fast and furiously, he was perfect, with tons of dark hair and the cutest little face ever! They placed him on my chest immediately and we got a good nursing session in before his first bath.
He developed jaundice and as a precaution we had to stay longer than we wanted. He wasn't eating well, so we had to finger feed him, which basically means I put my index finger in his mouth facing up while M fed a little tube in on top of my finger. I would hold the tube in place with my thumb while M pumped formula in with a syringe. Yes - that means it took two people and four hands to feed our little boy for the first few days.
Thankfully, his jaundice resolved and he learned to suck the right way and we haven't looked back since!
Baby A has the sweetest little spirit and we are so grateful for him!
~Nichole
So, after my ER visit, I was scheduled to be induced on 5/24 at 39 weeks for high blood pressure. Because my complaint was heart palpitations, they never actually monitored the baby when my blood pressure was so high, so I left the hospital knowing only that my bp was in the normal range, but not having any idea what having bp spike like that was doing to the baby. I was anxious about an induction, having heard horror stories of failed or stalled inductions, but I was more anxious about something happening to my baby. I had to make a conscious decision to trust my (new) doc, have faith, and trust my body.
At my doctor's appointment on Wednesday the 23rd, I was completely closed and not effaced. To my surprise, my doc didn't give me an out, so I was still scheduled for a 3 a.m. induction the following morning. At 10:00 p.m. the hospital called and we got bumped to "early afternoon". We planned an entirely different morning, one that was leisurely and included homemade crepes and playing outside with our kid. So, we stayed up WAY too late talking and trying "natural" ways to get ready for labor.
After about 3 hours of sleep, we got a call at 5 a.m. saying they had a bed and to come on in. We checked in at the hospital at 8 a.m. and went straight to a LDR room (no triage!), where they started an IV and checked me. I was 2cm and 60% effaced! So, no need for Cervidil: I went straight to Pit around 9 a.m.
My doc came in and explained process and info about breaking my water, which made me entirely nervous and I told her I was really hesitant to start the clock. She explained that the risks of c-section were the same either way (about 80% at that point) and that it might help baby descend gradually and help me get more dilated and effaced. I confirmed with her that the baby wasn't posterior and then agreed to have her break my water. (That hook? Youch!) Once things really got going (i.e. uncomfortable), I sat on a birthing ball for several hours and worked through contractions while M and I watched "contraction TV" and read Us Weekly (me) and a book about succession planning (him).
The next question was when to get the epidural. I didn't want to get it too early and I really wanted to stay mobile as long as possible. By 12, the nurse had upped the Pit and my contractions started to have teeth. After she got back from her lunch break, she upped it again and by around 1:30 p.m., I was having a lot of back labor and asked for the epidural. The epi was placed around 2:15 and when I was checked right after, I was 5cm and 80% effaced.
Then, I started going numb in my chest and arms, which made me itch the way a foot does when it falls asleep. I told my nurse I was numb up to my breastline. She cut the epidural off and got the anesthesiologist back in the room. Once they got it adjusted, I progressed really quickly from there and by around 3:30, I was feeling pressure and was ready to push.
Two rounds of pushing and 10 minutes later, my second son was born! I went from 2 cm to having a baby in less than banker's hours. It was the best labor and delivery I could have hoped for (and one that I would TOTALLY do over again)!
Aside from a poor bruised nose from being pushed so fast and furiously, he was perfect, with tons of dark hair and the cutest little face ever! They placed him on my chest immediately and we got a good nursing session in before his first bath.
He developed jaundice and as a precaution we had to stay longer than we wanted. He wasn't eating well, so we had to finger feed him, which basically means I put my index finger in his mouth facing up while M fed a little tube in on top of my finger. I would hold the tube in place with my thumb while M pumped formula in with a syringe. Yes - that means it took two people and four hands to feed our little boy for the first few days.
Thankfully, his jaundice resolved and he learned to suck the right way and we haven't looked back since!
Baby A has the sweetest little spirit and we are so grateful for him!
~Nichole
5.29.2012
5.16.2012
Much Ado
And so, it was in the 37th week of my pregnancy with my 2nd child that I found out what it must be like to be the child of a Jewish mother. . .
I met my doc for the second time. I promised her I wouldn't cry if she told me I had made absolutely no progress since week 36. Then I got to make good on my promise when the only good news she could offer was that the baby was still head down.
I truly felt on the verge of a physical collapse and I lamented to her that I was SO very tired and that I was thinking of just going on leave early. She said she could do that if I wanted, that she does it all the time. Then she cupped my face with one of her hands and cooed "how could I say no to that face!" and the resulting mix of comfort and confusion is what I imagine children of Jewish mothers must often feel. I told her I was taking the rest of the day off and would see what the weekend brought.
Well, the weekend brought a slightly higher blood pressure and increased episodes of palpitations that I could feel in my neck and throat and head.
So, Monday morning I went to the hospital, where it was discovered that my blood pressure was 140/102. Scary high. I was monitored, my bp dropped to 119/80, and baby seemed fine. 6 hours later I was released with instructions to rest. No problemo.
My feet look better than they have in two weeks and I feel better than I have in at least a week - though I still have palpitations every now and then.
Today I followed up with my doc and she really was not kidding: she's not moody like Dr. M was at all. In fact, she's sometimes so chipper and understanding and nice it's almost more saccharine than I can comprehend.
My bp was 119/79 - normal, but still a little high for me. I am NOT pre-eclamptic (hooray!) but she put me on leave from work and scheduled an induction for next Thursday (39 weeks) just to be safe. I am measuring small so she thinks I won't have a big baby this time. That fits with a dream I had last week: he'll be long and lean and have crazy amounts of dark hair that sticks straight up. . .
I'm a little freaked about induction and secretly hope my body will progress on its own.
We shall see. . .
~Nichole
I met my doc for the second time. I promised her I wouldn't cry if she told me I had made absolutely no progress since week 36. Then I got to make good on my promise when the only good news she could offer was that the baby was still head down.
I truly felt on the verge of a physical collapse and I lamented to her that I was SO very tired and that I was thinking of just going on leave early. She said she could do that if I wanted, that she does it all the time. Then she cupped my face with one of her hands and cooed "how could I say no to that face!" and the resulting mix of comfort and confusion is what I imagine children of Jewish mothers must often feel. I told her I was taking the rest of the day off and would see what the weekend brought.
Well, the weekend brought a slightly higher blood pressure and increased episodes of palpitations that I could feel in my neck and throat and head.
So, Monday morning I went to the hospital, where it was discovered that my blood pressure was 140/102. Scary high. I was monitored, my bp dropped to 119/80, and baby seemed fine. 6 hours later I was released with instructions to rest. No problemo.
My feet look better than they have in two weeks and I feel better than I have in at least a week - though I still have palpitations every now and then.
Today I followed up with my doc and she really was not kidding: she's not moody like Dr. M was at all. In fact, she's sometimes so chipper and understanding and nice it's almost more saccharine than I can comprehend.
My bp was 119/79 - normal, but still a little high for me. I am NOT pre-eclamptic (hooray!) but she put me on leave from work and scheduled an induction for next Thursday (39 weeks) just to be safe. I am measuring small so she thinks I won't have a big baby this time. That fits with a dream I had last week: he'll be long and lean and have crazy amounts of dark hair that sticks straight up. . .
I'm a little freaked about induction and secretly hope my body will progress on its own.
We shall see. . .
~Nichole
4.18.2012
Inner Beauty
My belly is, at best, very rotund and, at worst, mottled and splotchy with stretching.
I still have not filled the gap that my lost baby tooth left.
My face is taking on the pregnancy puff, which is why my hair is still long and driving me nuts, tempting me to cut it.
Despite my husband’s deepest reassurances, my butt is pregnancy-big.
I am up 30 pounds.
I make a concentrated effort not to waddle, but a full bladder and sciatic nerve pain down my left leg sometimes make that difficult.
Even on my best non-pregnant days, I often struggle with self image.
Whilst third trimester pregnant, it is a daily, losing battle.
But even when my voice, upon seeing myself in the mirror, tells me differently:
That little face that brightens upon seeing me at the end of the day makes me feel beautiful.
Those soft little lips kissing me repeatedly make me feel beautiful.
The bathtime giggles together make me feel beautiful
Bedtime conversations that start with “tell me bout da” make me feel beautiful.
The whispered “I wuv you, so bery much” makes me feel beautiful.
Being a mother makes me feel beautiful.
I still have not filled the gap that my lost baby tooth left.
My face is taking on the pregnancy puff, which is why my hair is still long and driving me nuts, tempting me to cut it.
Despite my husband’s deepest reassurances, my butt is pregnancy-big.
I am up 30 pounds.
I make a concentrated effort not to waddle, but a full bladder and sciatic nerve pain down my left leg sometimes make that difficult.
Even on my best non-pregnant days, I often struggle with self image.
Whilst third trimester pregnant, it is a daily, losing battle.
But even when my voice, upon seeing myself in the mirror, tells me differently:
That little face that brightens upon seeing me at the end of the day makes me feel beautiful.
Those soft little lips kissing me repeatedly make me feel beautiful.
The bathtime giggles together make me feel beautiful
Bedtime conversations that start with “tell me bout da” make me feel beautiful.
The whispered “I wuv you, so bery much” makes me feel beautiful.
Being a mother makes me feel beautiful.
~Nichole
4.07.2012
Update at 32 weeks
I love the visit right after the one with the glucose test because you get all sorts of great news, like "your iron's normal" and "you passed the diabetes test with flying colors" and "it's time to pre-register at the hospital" and "you're winning the stretch mark war" and "baby's locked and loaded in the head down position". {See why I'm gonna miss my doc?}
In other news, I think this baby gets an inordinate amount of the hiccups. It's very fun and funny now, but may not be if it continues after he's born.
Also, with the heat comes the swelling. {Howdy there, 90 degree weather!} So, I bought my feet some raspberry colored crocs to compensate. So there.
Also, baby's suddenly slowed down movement-wise in the last few days and I'm wondering what that's all about.
And, oh holy night (!), I woke up with acid in my mouth last night! The kind you only get after you throw up. Which I have not done since I was - oh - about 12. So, I can only devise that this means my belly is now expanding UPwards and crushing my poor esophagus. {Hooray!}
I'm finding it surreal that I am down to single digits left now: just 8 (or less) weeks to go now! {Or, as I told my doc, "the train is coming in to the station".} I can't distinguish between whether my obsession over whether this baby will be early or not is a premonition or just a fear. . . . but I keep telling myself to pack a hospital bag (or three) just in case. In any case, I'd be good with having a Taurus.
In other news, I think this baby gets an inordinate amount of the hiccups. It's very fun and funny now, but may not be if it continues after he's born.
Also, with the heat comes the swelling. {Howdy there, 90 degree weather!} So, I bought my feet some raspberry colored crocs to compensate. So there.
Also, baby's suddenly slowed down movement-wise in the last few days and I'm wondering what that's all about.
And, oh holy night (!), I woke up with acid in my mouth last night! The kind you only get after you throw up. Which I have not done since I was - oh - about 12. So, I can only devise that this means my belly is now expanding UPwards and crushing my poor esophagus. {Hooray!}
I'm finding it surreal that I am down to single digits left now: just 8 (or less) weeks to go now! {Or, as I told my doc, "the train is coming in to the station".} I can't distinguish between whether my obsession over whether this baby will be early or not is a premonition or just a fear. . . . but I keep telling myself to pack a hospital bag (or three) just in case. In any case, I'd be good with having a Taurus.
~Nichole
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