Childcare Conundrum

One of the major concerns I had before ever getting pregnant was about child care. Having worked at a day care center before starting college, I already knew that was not the ideal setting for us. Ideally, our baby would be in an in-home group care setting with a low infant to caregiver ratio, or, better yet, with someone who could provide one on one attention.

I asked for referrals from friends and associates, I researched care providers online, I even scoured Craigslist for providers with training in early childhood development. I called around to a few and wasn't feeling it. I even researched day care centers just in case, but was still freaked out about the potential of having him in a room with 9 other babies and only 2 care providers.

Then, I had a baby.

And immediately felt it impossible to leave him with anyone.

Fortunately for us, his grandparents agreed. They are in their 70s - albeit very healthy 70s -so when their offer to care for him was uttered, we were hesitant. We thought about it for weeks. Once we knew what M's part-time schedule would look like, we discussed our concerns with all of our options, and decided to have a sit down with M's folks and see if their offer still stood.

Of course it did.

Now we have 3 strollers, 2 pack in plays, 2 bouncers, 1 gym, double the books, double the toys, double the bottles. . .

We've just passed the 3 week mark and so far, so good. They talk to him, they walk with him, they dance with him, watch football with him, play with him, love him. Better than one on one, that boy gets two on one attention.

We think we're the lucky ones to have such loving care for our boy. They insist they are the lucky ones to have him in their home.

All I know is you have never seen 4 adults more anxious over the bowel habits of one little baby (who hasn't had a soiled diaper since Tuesday). . . tonight we called them to report that he did, indeed, "finally go". We all rejoiced together.

I've decided he's the lucky one.

~Nichole

All the Difference

It’s been just over two weeks ago that I returned to work. I have to say that working is easier than taking care of a baby. Easier, but not better. It’s the missing him part that’s so incredibly hard. . . (that and not being able to sleep during the day when he’s napping). I’ve had fits of tear-blurred eyes at work, in the grocery store, but have come to find that the only safe place to cry is in the shower. I miss that little face so much some days that it hurts.

Yesterday I returned to work from a 4-day weekend of uninterrupted baby and daddy time. I held up better than I imagined I would. Only one episode of blurry, tear-filled vision all day. You can’t blame me, really. The boy’s grandparents took pictures of him and e-mailed them to me. It was a given that I should get verklempt.

This past weekend, when I was less emotional, I worked on his room. (I almost typed “nursery” but M said this past weekend how much he hates that reference, so I deleted it and said “room”.) It’s finally done. (It only took 3 months!) Last week, as I was going through the clothes he’s outgrown, I kept running in and interrupting M’s studies with a hurried whisper (so as not to wake the sleeping baby),“Look at how tiny this is! He fit into this! Can you believe it?”

There’s a comfort and a strange concoction of contentment, pride and anticipation in saying “I’ll put it away for the next baby!” followed by the underlying, nagging thought of “what happens when there’s no ‘next baby’?”

When I think of places we’ve been and things we’ve done and picture them in my head, I have a hard time realizing that it was “BC” – Before C. It feels like he’s always been here, and yet, there was a whole life before him. (Whole, certainly, but incomplete, no?)

On my first day back to work, people asked “how do you feel being back?” and my honest response came as both a shock and a revelation to me: “I feel like a different person.” How true that is: I am a different person.

Before C, I would look at pregnant women and think “ugh! That just doesn’t look like fun!” and then I got (and stayed) pregnant, had a baby and am now a card-carrying member of the mommy brigade. Recently, I gushingly congratulated someone on being pregnant for the second time and was a little surprised about how excited I really was for her. How excited I am for all those in my ward who are in the same poopy-pantsed-just-starting-our-childrearing-years boat as me. How I l-o-v-e LOVE to watch all these new moms with their babies, how touched I was to watch a mom with her 2-week old newborn and see how her face positively lit up as his dad handed him to her, and to know that I light up the same way when I’m with my boy.

It’s quite amazing how much one little person can change you. (There I go getting all verklempt again! )

(Give me moment while my eyes clear. .. .)

This past Saturday, C was blessed by his Tata in our home. I forgot that Tata gets all verklempt too, and when he does, he whispers. I had to ask M later what was said in the blessing. I was surprised to find that I already knew almost all of it, though it was tough to hear at the time. As his Tata pronounced the blessing, mostly in whispers, the Spirit whispered it to me. That boy is an incredibly special little spirit and it’s just mind boggling that I’m his mom.

On so many occasions lately, I find myself grateful.

~Nichole

Postpartum Head to Toe

Here’s a review of what pregnancy did to me – for better (↑), for worse (↓), or whatever (↔)

HAIR

(↓) They weren’t lying when they said “your hair will fall out in clumps”! My hair murals in the shower are much more interesting. I get about as much falling out in one day as I used to get in a week. No joke. . .
(↑) I chopped my lighter ends off and have been complimented on the color several times.

HEAD

(↓) I got a wicked migraine right after childbirth for about a week. I’ve also had a headache now for 4 days. Then again, I did stop taking my mag every day like I was during pregnancy. . .

FACE

(↑) I’ve also been complimented on my complexion. Not only have I not had as many bouts with adult acne, but apparently my pigmentation, which is blotchy from the dastardly combination of sunburns and birth control, got much darker while I was pregnant. No “glow” for me during, but after? Apparently the answer is yes.

BREASTS

(↔) On one hand, it’s nice to have cleavage; on the other, it’s strange that I’m one of those “women who are breastfeeding” that commercials are always saying should “talk to your doctor”. Also strange? That they fill up and let down. Who knew?! Also? Not so thrilled with the fact that my “areolas are interesting” (as my OB would say).

HANDS

(↔) I can wear a silver band again, but will not force my wedding ring until I’ve lost a few more pounds.

BELLY

(↓) One word: pudge. I’m convinced it won’t be there forever. Even so. . .never had it like this before, so who’s to say?
(↔) My skin is stretched, but is slowly regaining its tone (and is much better than it was immediately postpartum). Also, I did, to my surprise, get a linea negra. Still there. . .
(↑) I did not get a single stretch mark on my belly. I don’t know whether to credit good water intake or good genes for this blessing of the gods.

BUTT

(↑) Hooray that I escaped exploding-pregnant-ass syndrome!

BACK

(↓) My tailbone has been sore since immediately after childbirth. In fact, a sore tailbone and an explosive migraine were the reasons I gave for requesting pain meds in the hospital. It flares up every now and then and has taken to “popping” now that I’m back at work.

THIGHS

(↔) Didn’t get huge, so yea! But stretch marks that were there from my mission weight gain turned red and are finally starting to lighten again.

LEGS

(↑) Are no longer restless!!

FEET

(↓) I think I may have gained a half a size. At least that’s what my most recent purchase of high heels tells me.
(↑) Not a week goes by that I don’t admire (and feel grateful for the return) of my small, unswollen feet.

WEIGHT

(↔) I gained 40-ish pounds. I have lost 27. Technically, I have 13 more to go to get to my pre-pregnant weight. That said, before I got pregnant, I had gained back 5 pounds from my lowest-weight-in-years weight, which was about 10 -12 pounds more than my goal weight. The solution to this wacky math problem? I’ve got about 25-30 more pounds to lose. . .

~Nichole

Salty Mama

I went for a real walk today. Not just a walk around the block or around the neighborhood. I got out my visor, put my hair in a pony tail, put on my running shoes and my iPod and took the baby out and walked for over 2 miles.

It was a warm day today. But, as I walked my former running route, I noticed that the sky was fantastically clear. The Supers looked awesome and I could see Four Peaks like it was the city's back yard. It all made me excited to start running.

When I was pregnant, I was convinced I'd get out and start another Couch to 5k at around 3 weeks postpartum. To that, I now say "Ha!" Mostly because I felt non-human at least that long and that I still feel sore in sundry places.

As I walked that road, I was bored. Like worse than running-without-an-iPod bored. In fact, running was preferable to the slow trod of walking 2 miles. Then, I started to remember. . . I remember how hard I had to push myself at times just to get to the end of a running segment - and then, when I was routinely running 5k, how I'd sometimes just have to concentrate on the white line of the bike lane and make myself keep going.

So, I have a new plan. In a few weeks, when I go back to work and have to be up wicked early to get the baby ready to get out the door with his dad at 6 a.m., I will just stay up and go "running" (evenutally it will be the real thing) three days a week (then get to work early myself).

I heard System of a Down on my iPod today and it always gets me going. So, I know I can do it.

When we got back to the house, I was sweaty and it was fabulous. I even opened the front door and the kitchen window and turned on a fan.

True, C napped almost the whole time, but we had fun! Pretty soon, he's gonna have a sweaty mama much more often.
~Nichole

Favorite/Unfavorite

A few of my favorite things lately:

~ My favoritest thing in the world right now is the shape C's mouth makes when he's "talking" to me.

~Next favorite is the sound of his voice.

~I love seeing M as a dad. (He's the best.)

~I love seeing the store of breastmilk in my fridge and freezer.

~I love seeing the scale dropping into the 170s.

Unfavorite things I'd rather not think about:

~Having to leave C to go back to work and missing milestones. (upside: M will be home with him 2 days a week.)

~Having to make a decision about vaccines by Monday's ped appointment. (upside: we'll be reading a lot this weekend and praying for answers.)

~Knowing I'd probably be lower in the 170s if not for all the baked holiday goodness I ate during the month of December. (upside: I'm still losing weight, been here before, and know I can do it!)

~Nichole

Big Baby

I was in Babies R Us yesterday (because I'm there at least once a week now) and a dad walked by carrying the tiniest new baby. I went "Awwwww! Tiny baby!" and my sister on the other end of my cell phone said "what do you mean? You have a tiny baby!"

"Not anymore" I told her.

He's had a major growth spurt in the last week or so. He doesn't look "newborn" anymore. He's an "infant" now.

But he's still really cute.

And if I were better than I am, I would have pictures to post to prove it.

But, I'm not.

And I have to go rouse a sleepy headed baby who can't decide whether he wants to wake or snooze.

~Nichole

Times, They Are a Changin'

The things we said/thought we'd do "when we have kids" were many. Here are how they've changed:

~I used to say that twins "would be fun". Now that I've actually had a baby, I realize that the first few weeks with twins would be torture. (And that's just the first few weeks!)

~We used to think "a diaper is a diaper is a diaper" and that we'd just go with what was cheapest. That was until we got spoiled on Pampers in the hospital. Everything else feels a little cardboardy and we found ourselves saying "we can't put that next to his skin!". Ditto with wipes.

~I thought we'd have the baby in our room for a few weeks and then transition him to his own room. Turns out, dad says he might be in our room "until he can sleep through the night". Or, you know, indefinitely. Who really knows?

~Ditto with co-sleeping. I never thought we'd have a baby in our bed. I was very very opposed to co-sleeping. We purchased a pack n play with a bassinet feature for just such a purpose. And yet, there are times when he sleeps between us in our already-too-small queen size bed. (Like the entire first week he was home. And when I'm too tired to get up to check on him.)

I'm sure the list will be astronomically long by the time he's good and raised. I think parenting is just like that. The reality of it is that you make decisions every day and turns out that the decision making process sometimes requires compromises and changes of thought.

That's just how it goes, I guess.

~Nichole

Turning Breastmilk Into Wine

I have quite the stock of frozen breastmilk. I've had to buy plastic bins to keep it all organized - and to keep all those little bags from taking over my freezer.

Right now I have in my refrigerator bags of breastmilk dated 12/31/09 and 1/1/10. Two days. Two different years. Two different decades. Stored up and sitting in my fridge.

It reminds me of the book Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury - where he talks about bottles of dandelion wine and how each bottle represents an entire summer day, caught and bottled and corked up to be savored another time.

Only that milk, unlike wine, does not get better with age. . .

Hmmm.

~Nichole

Bulk Info

I don't have the time to post the snippets as they occur in my head - like it used to be around here, so bulk updates will have to do - even though I should technically be sleeping.

I cannot believe my baby is already 7 weeks old (today).

For his Christmas present, since I don't scrapbook, I'm putting together a photo album of my pregnancy, his birth, and his first few months of life. I'll write cliff notes in the margins. That's my version of a scrapbook.

I moved up my postpartum check up. It was scheduled for today (for some reason) but I didn't want to wait an "extra" week, so I called and moved it to a week ago. I love my doctor. I'll miss seeing him regularly. Everything looks fine. He warned me that Miss V probably won't be back to normal for up to 6 months after I stop breastfeeding.

He asked how breastfeeding is going and I told him about the LC at the hospital telling me I would be pumping. He responded "yeah. you have interesting anatomy." I really don't know exactly what that means and since the sentences he started after that one never got finished ("For some babies you might be perfect but. . . " "Your areolas are. . . "). He did say I'm lucky that I'm producing well given that I'm pumping exclusively. He said some women have problems with that.

Then we talked about birth control. Then he launched into his version of Marriage Relationships 101: men need to be praised for every little thing and women need to be chased and wooed for their entire lives. Some people might find such advice annoying, but such conversations with my doc are really part of his charm and the reason I find him so funny.

I'm starting to get anxious about going back to work and I'm really really trying not to think about it. Except that we have to get serious about finding childcare, which kind of forces the issue.

I've had a couple of days (OK, one) where I've been really bored and thought "how on earth do SAHMs do it!?" but for the most part, it's been OK. Mostly I just think "how will I ever get a baby and myself ready and be out the door before 2 in the afternoon?" I've only been able to accomplish that a couple of times and it means sacrificing my sleep during C's first morning nap. Which pretty much stinks. Especially since I tend to stay up late to pump. And, occasionally, to post.

Alright. Gotta go pump, finish packing M's lunch, and get myself to bed. Baby'll be up soon to eat and I need some sleep!

~Nichole

Blue Jeans and Wedding Rings

Toward the end, when I was pretty much swollen and very uncomfortable, I yearned for normal feet and daydreamed about some future day when I might be able to wear something other than flip flops.

Then, I would take it a step further and allow myself the luxury of imagining some future day when I would be able to wear jeans again.

Then, I would really tempt myself and think of the day when I might even be able to wear my wedding ring again.

I am glad to say that I can wear all my shoes again, which is good since flip flops and 40 degree weather don't go so well together.

Also, I'm sort of almost there with the jeans thing. Sort of, in that I can fit into my "fat girl" jeans - size 32 with 2% spandex. My "skinny" jeans are still waiting for me to lose the other 20 pounds.

As for the wedding ring. . . I can only wear my replacement ring - the one M and I picked up way back in 1995 at a street vendor near Pier 41 in San Francisco.

The one with the diamonds that he bought me 4 years later is still shelved. I can technically get it on. Having been this weight before, I know this. (Plus, I tried it on the other day.) But, I also know that in order to get it off after wearing it for any length of time I'll have to twist it round and round like I'm unscrewing a nut from a chubby, swollen bolt. And when that doesn't work, I have to resort to tactics involving soap and water.

In short, it's time to start walking, drinking more water, and eating more fruits and veg. . . and to fight off my carb cravings like my life depends on it!

~Nichole