I am trying to make myself remember these perfect times with my new daughter. I am often torn between just absorbing the moment with her doing something ridiculously precious, and running to grab the video/camera and watching it through a screen, but capturing it for all time.
As I recently told someone in an email, Firecracker has all but told us outright that sleeping at night is not her thing anymore. Yes, during the day she takes great naps, but only on me (in the Moby). And yes, she sleeps for a couple of hours at a time at night, but only next to me (and she does a lot of endless writhing routing even when full, keeping me up. Breastfeeding co-sleeping moms, you feel me, right?). But last night, she would only sleep on me (as in the Moby). So I "slept" - yes - sitting up, something I haven't done since I suffered from heartburn during late pregnancy. And yes, I'm starting to believe that the late stages of pregnancy are indeed preparation for the early stages of motherhood, except that there's really nothing that can actually prepare you for this kind of sleep deprivation.
But, when she awoke this morning, she stretched and yawned and stretched and made crazy animal noises and yawned until her eyes met mine and she broke into a huge smile, kicking her feet in excitement and flirtation. Nothing. NOTHING. Makes my heart feel the way it does when she looks at me like that.
Of late, I am reminded of my long-time absolute favorite poem, one that I always related to how I feel about my partner. But it has an even deeper meaning to me now, something I didn't know possible.
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
E.E. Cummings
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
Clarification
I have been meaning to follow-up my last post with a comment, but I'm doing it later than I wanted to (I blame my child :)
While no one is accusing me of this at all, I just wanted to let friends and family know that my last post was in no way intended as a slap. In fact, I meant to write about how I understand that people don't always know how to react to death and how to bring it up, especially when it seems someone may have moved on and may not want to be reminded. I meant to say that I totally understand these intentions and that I blame no one. I think more than anything, I was exercising my true emotions in preparation for my group. I meant to say that I actually think it's interesting how it's all played out with people close to me, and how I've been able to learn a lesson that you just can't learn unless you lose someone (unfortunately). It's not a lesson I would wish on anyone . I'm glad most people don't exactly know how to react because it means that they've suffered a loss - not something I want for them at all.
And so I offer an apology for the way I came across and didn't intend to. My friends and family are what got me through this terrible mess. I don't feel abandoned in any way. I feel like people are afraid to ask and I don't blame them (I meant to say that, too). But after some comments and emails I've gotten, at least now I know that people haven't forgotten. I love you all and I appreciate your continued love and support.
While no one is accusing me of this at all, I just wanted to let friends and family know that my last post was in no way intended as a slap. In fact, I meant to write about how I understand that people don't always know how to react to death and how to bring it up, especially when it seems someone may have moved on and may not want to be reminded. I meant to say that I totally understand these intentions and that I blame no one. I think more than anything, I was exercising my true emotions in preparation for my group. I meant to say that I actually think it's interesting how it's all played out with people close to me, and how I've been able to learn a lesson that you just can't learn unless you lose someone (unfortunately). It's not a lesson I would wish on anyone . I'm glad most people don't exactly know how to react because it means that they've suffered a loss - not something I want for them at all.
And so I offer an apology for the way I came across and didn't intend to. My friends and family are what got me through this terrible mess. I don't feel abandoned in any way. I feel like people are afraid to ask and I don't blame them (I meant to say that, too). But after some comments and emails I've gotten, at least now I know that people haven't forgotten. I love you all and I appreciate your continued love and support.
Friday, September 11, 2009
A Thousand Splendid Suns
My daughter has reclaimed Tuesdays. Since December 30th, I had associated Tuesdays (especially mornings) with losing my mother. Then Stella came along and was born on a Tuesday (barely).
Since she was born, I have not been back to my grief support group for motherless daughters. I am finally going next week, and not a moment too soon. I didn't stop going because I stopped needing it - it's the opposite of that. I need it more than ever. I've just not been sure how to manage a baby, and to disappear physically and emotionally into a group for 1.5hrs. More than that, however, I was not sure I could handle publicly what I've been struggling with internally.
Where would I even begin. With the 5-10 minutes or so that we each have to speak, I feel that maybe I would cover just some of my emotions associated with just the birth itself and the lack of her presence. That would be without mentioning the entirely different weight that motherhood brought upon me because of a sudden understanding and empathy I have for her life - and all too late. That would exclude the sheer horror I relive everyday, picturing how she must have felt when she lost custody of both of her children - something I couldn't really relate to before. That would exclude the terror that visits me every night when I can't get an image out of my head of her taking her last breath, fighting for air - not being able to call out for help. That excludes the times that I look at my daughter in disbelief at the similarity she has to me as a baby, now knowing the unmatched joy my mother experienced when she gazed upon me in those early weeks of my life. That excludes the desperate feelings I have when I want to call her and ask her questions about how she felt about one thing or another during this point in motherhood - how she dealt with the sudden shifts and challenges of being a new mother. How she dealt with colic. I picture the stories people told me at her funeral about how they used to rock miles in a rocking chair trying to get me to quit crying and that I would never stop. Did I also cry it out in a crib at night? What eventually happened or changed? How did she get through it? How different the feeling is that my mother's not just unavailable to ask or just not home, but that she's dead. And that I'll NEVER. Know.
I recently read a novel about two different women growing up in war-ridden Afghanistan - two women that didn't know each other but that come together after tragedy strikes their lives in different ways. The book was so incredibly well written that I felt every single twinge of emotion associated with each character. When I'd shut the book or would be interrupted by my baby crying or falling off my breast (I was often passing the breastfeeding time when I read - when else would I read?), that I would be shaken into reality after being lost somewhere deep in Kabul. But more than that, these women both had mothers that reminded me exactly of mine, and they both lost their mothers (in different ways). In case you ever read this book (which I hope you do), I won't relay the similarities or give more of the story away. But I will say that these women experience the same awakening and reckoning regarding their mothers that I have experienced - only able to understand things their mothers went through as they started to go through those things themselves. Feeling guilty, selfish and so un-empathetic for the things they couldn't have possibly understood about their mothers as girls.
I did not expect to relate to the characters in this novel in any way. I have not suffered the hardships of war or abuse or hopelessness the way these women had, and yet I could relate. And I was not ready to relate like that - I was taken completely off guard. At several points during the book, my mouth would drop open in disbelief at how accurately these particular emotions were described - emotions I had never seen in print nor had heard uttered, and yet they were my feelings exactly, laid out right there in front of me on a page. And I thought it so strange that I had not read a book from cover-to-cover like that in a long time (except for pregnancy books), and yet I randomly picked that book to read (and couldn't put it down). Because it was a hardback book, it had no description on the cover, and yet I picked it to read anyway without having any idea of what it was about.
No matter the decade, the race, the country, the socio-economic status - I believe that women can relate to each other over losing our mothers more than they can relate about almost anything else. Even if the relationships with our mothers differ from each other (good, bad), there's just a certain understanding that ensues - a certain emotion that takes over no matter the previous emotions. And though I can't speak for sure, I think it's probably different regarding women losing their fathers. Maybe women share similar emotions to each other when they experience the loss of a child. God help me, I hope I never know. But that might also be something that completely spans the kind of relationship that existed - you just want to die when it happens no matter what.
This is why I won't go the rest of this month without facing my pain head-on with the women who can support me most. I tried it without them and it doesn't work. They don't take the pain away by any means, but they listen in a way that says it all. When they nod their heads, there is an understanding that's communicated that isn't there when others nod their heads as they listen. While everyone means well, only someone that's lost their mother can truly know. It perplexes me that it means so much to be understood. Why does a roomful of simple nods mean so much when you've endured loss? It seems that general empathy from people who care about me should be enough, but it's just not.
It's also the case that, simply put, no one has asked me how I'm doing regarding my mother's death since my baby was born. No one. While people have commented that they hadn't asked because they didn't want to bring it up, they still didn't ask. Is that truly what I need, to be asked how I am? I guess I don't know since it hasn't happened. But there is one place where I know it will happen.
Since she was born, I have not been back to my grief support group for motherless daughters. I am finally going next week, and not a moment too soon. I didn't stop going because I stopped needing it - it's the opposite of that. I need it more than ever. I've just not been sure how to manage a baby, and to disappear physically and emotionally into a group for 1.5hrs. More than that, however, I was not sure I could handle publicly what I've been struggling with internally.
Where would I even begin. With the 5-10 minutes or so that we each have to speak, I feel that maybe I would cover just some of my emotions associated with just the birth itself and the lack of her presence. That would be without mentioning the entirely different weight that motherhood brought upon me because of a sudden understanding and empathy I have for her life - and all too late. That would exclude the sheer horror I relive everyday, picturing how she must have felt when she lost custody of both of her children - something I couldn't really relate to before. That would exclude the terror that visits me every night when I can't get an image out of my head of her taking her last breath, fighting for air - not being able to call out for help. That excludes the times that I look at my daughter in disbelief at the similarity she has to me as a baby, now knowing the unmatched joy my mother experienced when she gazed upon me in those early weeks of my life. That excludes the desperate feelings I have when I want to call her and ask her questions about how she felt about one thing or another during this point in motherhood - how she dealt with the sudden shifts and challenges of being a new mother. How she dealt with colic. I picture the stories people told me at her funeral about how they used to rock miles in a rocking chair trying to get me to quit crying and that I would never stop. Did I also cry it out in a crib at night? What eventually happened or changed? How did she get through it? How different the feeling is that my mother's not just unavailable to ask or just not home, but that she's dead. And that I'll NEVER. Know.
I recently read a novel about two different women growing up in war-ridden Afghanistan - two women that didn't know each other but that come together after tragedy strikes their lives in different ways. The book was so incredibly well written that I felt every single twinge of emotion associated with each character. When I'd shut the book or would be interrupted by my baby crying or falling off my breast (I was often passing the breastfeeding time when I read - when else would I read?), that I would be shaken into reality after being lost somewhere deep in Kabul. But more than that, these women both had mothers that reminded me exactly of mine, and they both lost their mothers (in different ways). In case you ever read this book (which I hope you do), I won't relay the similarities or give more of the story away. But I will say that these women experience the same awakening and reckoning regarding their mothers that I have experienced - only able to understand things their mothers went through as they started to go through those things themselves. Feeling guilty, selfish and so un-empathetic for the things they couldn't have possibly understood about their mothers as girls.
I did not expect to relate to the characters in this novel in any way. I have not suffered the hardships of war or abuse or hopelessness the way these women had, and yet I could relate. And I was not ready to relate like that - I was taken completely off guard. At several points during the book, my mouth would drop open in disbelief at how accurately these particular emotions were described - emotions I had never seen in print nor had heard uttered, and yet they were my feelings exactly, laid out right there in front of me on a page. And I thought it so strange that I had not read a book from cover-to-cover like that in a long time (except for pregnancy books), and yet I randomly picked that book to read (and couldn't put it down). Because it was a hardback book, it had no description on the cover, and yet I picked it to read anyway without having any idea of what it was about.
No matter the decade, the race, the country, the socio-economic status - I believe that women can relate to each other over losing our mothers more than they can relate about almost anything else. Even if the relationships with our mothers differ from each other (good, bad), there's just a certain understanding that ensues - a certain emotion that takes over no matter the previous emotions. And though I can't speak for sure, I think it's probably different regarding women losing their fathers. Maybe women share similar emotions to each other when they experience the loss of a child. God help me, I hope I never know. But that might also be something that completely spans the kind of relationship that existed - you just want to die when it happens no matter what.
This is why I won't go the rest of this month without facing my pain head-on with the women who can support me most. I tried it without them and it doesn't work. They don't take the pain away by any means, but they listen in a way that says it all. When they nod their heads, there is an understanding that's communicated that isn't there when others nod their heads as they listen. While everyone means well, only someone that's lost their mother can truly know. It perplexes me that it means so much to be understood. Why does a roomful of simple nods mean so much when you've endured loss? It seems that general empathy from people who care about me should be enough, but it's just not.
It's also the case that, simply put, no one has asked me how I'm doing regarding my mother's death since my baby was born. No one. While people have commented that they hadn't asked because they didn't want to bring it up, they still didn't ask. Is that truly what I need, to be asked how I am? I guess I don't know since it hasn't happened. But there is one place where I know it will happen.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
First Shot :(
Stella endured her first shot yesterday, and she took it like a total champ - much better than I did. On the way to the pediatrician, I literally cried when I pictured the actual shot and the pain she would face and not understand. I nursed her during the shot to try and comfort her and keep her screaming to a minimum, but like the nurse warned, it didn't work. She was happily suckling, and as soon as she felt the stick, her mouth opened as wide as it could and a huge wail escaped her throat. But then only normal crying ensued, and not even for very long at all. We certainly deal with much, MUCH worse crying fits at home due to colic or reflux or whatever it is that dominates every single evening from 5pm-midnight.
Just to be fair, her parents also endured a flu shot on the same visit (what a very convenient courtesy our pediatrician provides for a small price!). We were not planning on receiving flu shots at all because we never get them, but as it was pointed out to us, it's different when you have a baby. We don't want to be responsible for passing on the flu to her, especially since she cannot get a flu shot of her own and cases of swine flu are already being seen in our pediatrician's office. We were glad to know that we could take it instead of her!
Stella also received her first written prescription for heartburn medication. As I have blogged before, she seems to be suffering from pretty severe heartburn that is consistent and persistent every evening. I absolutely detest using prescription drugs when other more natural options haven't been exhausted, especially with children. That is why we have been using the homeopathic and harmless over-the-counter remedies that have been recommended. But they haven't been working, and more than I hate prescription drugs, I hate seeing my daughter in constant pain. If it will bring some relief to her, I feel like we owe her that much.
We have not filled the prescription yet because I want to do my own research on the side affects, and anything else I can find about it. Then we'll see...
Daddy comforts her after the shot
On the way home from the "dumb shot!"...
Back home and back to playin'
Just to be fair, her parents also endured a flu shot on the same visit (what a very convenient courtesy our pediatrician provides for a small price!). We were not planning on receiving flu shots at all because we never get them, but as it was pointed out to us, it's different when you have a baby. We don't want to be responsible for passing on the flu to her, especially since she cannot get a flu shot of her own and cases of swine flu are already being seen in our pediatrician's office. We were glad to know that we could take it instead of her!
Stella also received her first written prescription for heartburn medication. As I have blogged before, she seems to be suffering from pretty severe heartburn that is consistent and persistent every evening. I absolutely detest using prescription drugs when other more natural options haven't been exhausted, especially with children. That is why we have been using the homeopathic and harmless over-the-counter remedies that have been recommended. But they haven't been working, and more than I hate prescription drugs, I hate seeing my daughter in constant pain. If it will bring some relief to her, I feel like we owe her that much.
We have not filled the prescription yet because I want to do my own research on the side affects, and anything else I can find about it. Then we'll see...
Daddy comforts her after the shot
On the way home from the "dumb shot!"...
Back home and back to playin'
Monday, August 31, 2009
8 Weeks
Firecracker has made it to eight weeks. People with kids talk a lot about "well, when she's six weeks or eight weeks...", and then they have words of wisdom about some big transition they'll experience. But her transitions haven't been that cut-and-dry to me, and I certainly can't equate them with a particular week. The first couple of weeks were the most different of all, just like "they" say. She slept all the time to the point where I had to wake her every two-three hours to eat. And she slept pretty much anywhere you'd let her. All of that is different now, starting with the fact that she won't sleep anywhere but right next to us or literally on us.
Now she takes short little naps throughout the day, and I'd say longer "naps" at night. Now she wakes up like clockwork every 2-3 hours to eat and be changed, and in the middle of the night, I can mostly get her to nuzzle-in and go back to sleep after she eats. Sometimes she starts her day at 6am, and sometimes we can go back down for an hour or two. And if it's been a really long night, sometimes we go back down yet again and stay asleep until 11am. These are the nights when she doesn't go back down as easily between feedings and we are up for longer periods. Mind you, I am always up for longer periods between feedings because once she starts to drift off, my job is to pat, kiss and rock until she's in a deeper sleep so that I can then sleep myself. Otherwise, she wakes up right away and we have to start over.
Something else that changed right after two weeks were our quiet evenings with a sleepy baby. Not only did she start to wake up a lot more than when she was first born (totally expected), but she spends most of her time between 5pm and midnight crying. At first, I thought this might be kind of a normal new baby-thing. But soon we learned to better read her cues and could tell that she was agitated, grimacing and very unhappy. I remember yelling out to Erik one night over her cries, "Is this what colic is???!" Sure enough, I think we have a "colickie" baby. When I ask and observe other mommy friends with babies the same age, they say their babies don't do this. They happily make dinner and watch movies together at night while their baby coos on a nearby blanket or in a swing. Not only does Firecracker not let us put her down, but she would never hangout cooing in a swing long enough for us to watch a movie and eat dinner!
After several straight days of it starting at 5pm and going all night, I started a typical Google adventure for diagnosis, and I read many posts from other mom's that called this the "witching hour" - basically when your baby screams from 5-midnight for "no reason". I think she is one of "these" babies, but I don't think it's for no reason. We can hear lots of activity in her belly, and she seems to find relief when we massage her belly and keep her in upright positions. She absolutely will not tolerate a cradle hold (the most precious hold that everyone wants to share with their baby...), and I think it's because of residual reflux and/or burning from spitting up and having general baby indigestion. She has a pediatrician appointment in a few days, so we will revisit the issue. Their advice last time was to try Gripe Water.
Let me tell you a little story about how we almost killed our baby with Gripe Water.
Gripe Water is a supposed remedy for babies with colic. "Sounds good. Whatever - we'll try it". So one night Erik is giving her a dose of it when she spits it all out. He asks me to go refill the eye dropper with more from the bottle on the counter. So once I give it to him, I go back to the bottle to double-check the directions and close it up when I realize that it's not Gripe Water - it's cod liver oil. I ask you, how many small cobalt blue glass bottles do you have in your refrigerator? Well, we apparently have two.
After a mini freakout, we calmly call the pediatrician after-hours line, and the nurse is nice enough to do a three-way call with us to Poison Control. While cod liver oil sounds harmless enough, it is toxic if given over a certain amount because of the high levels of Vitamin A and D, things a baby can't handle in high doses. Because we hadn't given it to her two days in a row (and she spit-up the first batch), they assumed she'd be OK, and they gave us a list of things for which to watch out - otherwise it would have been off to the ER to have a tube put down her throat into her belly! As we were on the phone with them and she was lying on the bed, she drifted off to asleep, and Erik asked in his panicy voice, "Is it OK if she goes to sleep??". They said yes. But since she NEVER just goes to sleep like that, we were freaked. I'm wondering how old she has to be to have another dose of it... :)
So nights are hard to say the least. We spend the evening trading her off, back and forth, trying all of our tricks and then handing her off to the other parent when our tricks fail. We spend A LOT of time walking up and down the street (the hot and sticky night air sometimes distracts her). Once she finally goes down, that is usually my cue to go down too so that I get a head start on the sleep I won't get later. So essentially, there's not a lot of time for us as a couple, but we still steal kisses and smiles in between the cries, and we always eat dinner together, even if one of us is pacing around with the baby while the other cuts up the foods and feeds us both.
There is one exception to all of this, however. Company. If we have a house full of company or if we are at a party or something, she will sit in the sling or the Moby Wrap and sleep for hours. "What a good baby you have!", people gasp. "Thank you", we say politely.
It breaks our hearts that she struggles at night - it really does hurt to watch your child go through this. So we're particularly happy when she enjoys her days (though she struggles with gas a lot then, too). Hopefully we'll see some of this "8 week" magic about which we keep hearing, when their intestines start to settle down and develop more fully. Until then, we'll comfort her cries and adore the rest.
Oh, did I mention she started smiling on purpose (not just in her sleep)?? Soooo sweet.
"I like to scratch myself."
An anomoly - she's sleeping somewhere other than on us...
Her usual place in the bed, right next to Mama.
Rise and shine, Rosebud :)
Sportin' our sling. She loves it...NOT! Look at that face!
The expression of tolerance.
Except when Daddy does it (show off).
But we love the Moby - that's for sure.
See?
But nothin' beats sleepin' on the parental units.
Now she takes short little naps throughout the day, and I'd say longer "naps" at night. Now she wakes up like clockwork every 2-3 hours to eat and be changed, and in the middle of the night, I can mostly get her to nuzzle-in and go back to sleep after she eats. Sometimes she starts her day at 6am, and sometimes we can go back down for an hour or two. And if it's been a really long night, sometimes we go back down yet again and stay asleep until 11am. These are the nights when she doesn't go back down as easily between feedings and we are up for longer periods. Mind you, I am always up for longer periods between feedings because once she starts to drift off, my job is to pat, kiss and rock until she's in a deeper sleep so that I can then sleep myself. Otherwise, she wakes up right away and we have to start over.
Something else that changed right after two weeks were our quiet evenings with a sleepy baby. Not only did she start to wake up a lot more than when she was first born (totally expected), but she spends most of her time between 5pm and midnight crying. At first, I thought this might be kind of a normal new baby-thing. But soon we learned to better read her cues and could tell that she was agitated, grimacing and very unhappy. I remember yelling out to Erik one night over her cries, "Is this what colic is???!" Sure enough, I think we have a "colickie" baby. When I ask and observe other mommy friends with babies the same age, they say their babies don't do this. They happily make dinner and watch movies together at night while their baby coos on a nearby blanket or in a swing. Not only does Firecracker not let us put her down, but she would never hangout cooing in a swing long enough for us to watch a movie and eat dinner!
After several straight days of it starting at 5pm and going all night, I started a typical Google adventure for diagnosis, and I read many posts from other mom's that called this the "witching hour" - basically when your baby screams from 5-midnight for "no reason". I think she is one of "these" babies, but I don't think it's for no reason. We can hear lots of activity in her belly, and she seems to find relief when we massage her belly and keep her in upright positions. She absolutely will not tolerate a cradle hold (the most precious hold that everyone wants to share with their baby...), and I think it's because of residual reflux and/or burning from spitting up and having general baby indigestion. She has a pediatrician appointment in a few days, so we will revisit the issue. Their advice last time was to try Gripe Water.
Let me tell you a little story about how we almost killed our baby with Gripe Water.
Gripe Water is a supposed remedy for babies with colic. "Sounds good. Whatever - we'll try it". So one night Erik is giving her a dose of it when she spits it all out. He asks me to go refill the eye dropper with more from the bottle on the counter. So once I give it to him, I go back to the bottle to double-check the directions and close it up when I realize that it's not Gripe Water - it's cod liver oil. I ask you, how many small cobalt blue glass bottles do you have in your refrigerator? Well, we apparently have two.
After a mini freakout, we calmly call the pediatrician after-hours line, and the nurse is nice enough to do a three-way call with us to Poison Control. While cod liver oil sounds harmless enough, it is toxic if given over a certain amount because of the high levels of Vitamin A and D, things a baby can't handle in high doses. Because we hadn't given it to her two days in a row (and she spit-up the first batch), they assumed she'd be OK, and they gave us a list of things for which to watch out - otherwise it would have been off to the ER to have a tube put down her throat into her belly! As we were on the phone with them and she was lying on the bed, she drifted off to asleep, and Erik asked in his panicy voice, "Is it OK if she goes to sleep??". They said yes. But since she NEVER just goes to sleep like that, we were freaked. I'm wondering how old she has to be to have another dose of it... :)
So nights are hard to say the least. We spend the evening trading her off, back and forth, trying all of our tricks and then handing her off to the other parent when our tricks fail. We spend A LOT of time walking up and down the street (the hot and sticky night air sometimes distracts her). Once she finally goes down, that is usually my cue to go down too so that I get a head start on the sleep I won't get later. So essentially, there's not a lot of time for us as a couple, but we still steal kisses and smiles in between the cries, and we always eat dinner together, even if one of us is pacing around with the baby while the other cuts up the foods and feeds us both.
There is one exception to all of this, however. Company. If we have a house full of company or if we are at a party or something, she will sit in the sling or the Moby Wrap and sleep for hours. "What a good baby you have!", people gasp. "Thank you", we say politely.
It breaks our hearts that she struggles at night - it really does hurt to watch your child go through this. So we're particularly happy when she enjoys her days (though she struggles with gas a lot then, too). Hopefully we'll see some of this "8 week" magic about which we keep hearing, when their intestines start to settle down and develop more fully. Until then, we'll comfort her cries and adore the rest.
Oh, did I mention she started smiling on purpose (not just in her sleep)?? Soooo sweet.
"I like to scratch myself."
An anomoly - she's sleeping somewhere other than on us...
Her usual place in the bed, right next to Mama.
Rise and shine, Rosebud :)
Sportin' our sling. She loves it...NOT! Look at that face!
The expression of tolerance.
Except when Daddy does it (show off).
But we love the Moby - that's for sure.
See?
But nothin' beats sleepin' on the parental units.Thursday, August 27, 2009
New Website
Thank you to everyone that sent me helpful advice and suggestions after my last post. Since I did not tackle it this week, my goal is to get on top of some of the suggestions next week when Erik can accompany me to an appointment or two so that he can hold the ever-squirming Stella!
In other news, my brilliant husband quickly created a website for us to post our pictures (since we don't use Shutterfly or anything like that). We aren't that great at updating it yet, but we're working on it - check it out (but read the next paragraph first)!
http://thesummerfields.org/
It's an RSS feed, so you can receive it, and there are a couple of options as to what you can receive. If you click on the RSS tab, that's where you can choose. If you pick "Everything RSS", you will get both our blogs and all the pics from the website. If you are already subscribed to our blogs and would rather just see the pics, you can do "This Site Only RSS". Or you can just come view it the old fashioned way :)
http://thesummerfields.org/
In other news, my brilliant husband quickly created a website for us to post our pictures (since we don't use Shutterfly or anything like that). We aren't that great at updating it yet, but we're working on it - check it out (but read the next paragraph first)!
http://thesummerfields.org/
It's an RSS feed, so you can receive it, and there are a couple of options as to what you can receive. If you click on the RSS tab, that's where you can choose. If you pick "Everything RSS", you will get both our blogs and all the pics from the website. If you are already subscribed to our blogs and would rather just see the pics, you can do "This Site Only RSS". Or you can just come view it the old fashioned way :)
http://thesummerfields.org/
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Pain
While motherhood has been the joy of my life, I'm quietly suffering from pain that is compromising my sanity at times.
From the day Stella was born, I've had a dull, low-grade headache that doesn't go away and gets 100 times worse when I nurse. Is it dehydration? Am I having lactation headaches? I don't know, but I traded in the unbearable nipple pain at the beginning of our nursing career together for a forever-headache.
And now my hip pain has also returned. I have had chronic hip pain for around 10 years now, something that no one is able to figure out. I've seen Dr's, I've had physical therapy several times a week for long stretches, and I even gave up gluten (and other things) for almost the entire year before Stella was born. While the pain may have lessoned during my gluten-free time, it's hard to know why because I was also exercising a lot less due to house hunting at night, etc. It's also hard to tell if my next assessment is accurate due to all the things going on in my life at the time, but it seems that my hip pain was drastically less during pregnancy. While it was still very much there, I could "tailor sit" and handle other positions that I could never do before. During a time when all my other joints ached and moaned with the ever growing weight of the baby, my hips endured like champs.
Unfortunately it's time to start over with the exploration of its cause. I once thought it was the asthma medication I was on, but I gave that up when I went gluten-free. I started eating gluten again when I got pregnant (because it's in everything you want when you're pregnant), and I can't fully say I noticed the difference. And to give up GLUTEN, I need to notice the difference - it's just too much work for a "maybe". After $100's in fees for consultations with nutritionists to handle it the natural way, I am back at square one, disappointed, discouraged and most of all, in pain. I still want to handle this the natural way. I've been on miracle arthritis and anti-inflammatory drugs that made me sing with joy, but they also covered up a pain that I knew was getting worse under all of the meds. I don't want to trade in my hip pain for a heart attack one day from these crazy drugs! I want to know what the problem is.
Where to start. Do I go see my GP so that she can refer me to have X-rays and then tell me to take drugs I don't want (paying for all of this stuff in the meantime)? Do I go see a naturopath and begin to invest in a long process of herbal and homeopathic remedies? Do I try acupuncture just to find out that it works but that I have to go every week and pay almost $100 a pop? Or do a see a chiropractor?
I'm incredibly fortunate that I have health insurance unlike millions of people in this country - I'm fortunate to have a choice at all. I never lose site of that. But the years of pain sometimes converge on me in the middle of the night when I'm lying on my side (my hips), nursing, sleep deprived and with a headache, and I just want it to go away. Thankfully, I have accepted that I at least need to take something for my headaches - there is now a big bottle of Tylenol next to my bed. As for the hips...
Mainly, I want to be able to easily get down on the floor and play with my daughter. I don't want to wince every time I lower my body or when I get up out of a chair. At this point, my grimaces go unnoticed by me, but other people can't help but ask if I'm OK because I look worse than their grandmother. The long journey of questions will begin again so that I'm not in a wheelchair at 50.
In other news, the joy of my life:
("Thanks, Beth and Brock, for my favorite (and only) floor-time toy"!)
From the day Stella was born, I've had a dull, low-grade headache that doesn't go away and gets 100 times worse when I nurse. Is it dehydration? Am I having lactation headaches? I don't know, but I traded in the unbearable nipple pain at the beginning of our nursing career together for a forever-headache.
And now my hip pain has also returned. I have had chronic hip pain for around 10 years now, something that no one is able to figure out. I've seen Dr's, I've had physical therapy several times a week for long stretches, and I even gave up gluten (and other things) for almost the entire year before Stella was born. While the pain may have lessoned during my gluten-free time, it's hard to know why because I was also exercising a lot less due to house hunting at night, etc. It's also hard to tell if my next assessment is accurate due to all the things going on in my life at the time, but it seems that my hip pain was drastically less during pregnancy. While it was still very much there, I could "tailor sit" and handle other positions that I could never do before. During a time when all my other joints ached and moaned with the ever growing weight of the baby, my hips endured like champs.
Unfortunately it's time to start over with the exploration of its cause. I once thought it was the asthma medication I was on, but I gave that up when I went gluten-free. I started eating gluten again when I got pregnant (because it's in everything you want when you're pregnant), and I can't fully say I noticed the difference. And to give up GLUTEN, I need to notice the difference - it's just too much work for a "maybe". After $100's in fees for consultations with nutritionists to handle it the natural way, I am back at square one, disappointed, discouraged and most of all, in pain. I still want to handle this the natural way. I've been on miracle arthritis and anti-inflammatory drugs that made me sing with joy, but they also covered up a pain that I knew was getting worse under all of the meds. I don't want to trade in my hip pain for a heart attack one day from these crazy drugs! I want to know what the problem is.
Where to start. Do I go see my GP so that she can refer me to have X-rays and then tell me to take drugs I don't want (paying for all of this stuff in the meantime)? Do I go see a naturopath and begin to invest in a long process of herbal and homeopathic remedies? Do I try acupuncture just to find out that it works but that I have to go every week and pay almost $100 a pop? Or do a see a chiropractor?
I'm incredibly fortunate that I have health insurance unlike millions of people in this country - I'm fortunate to have a choice at all. I never lose site of that. But the years of pain sometimes converge on me in the middle of the night when I'm lying on my side (my hips), nursing, sleep deprived and with a headache, and I just want it to go away. Thankfully, I have accepted that I at least need to take something for my headaches - there is now a big bottle of Tylenol next to my bed. As for the hips...
Mainly, I want to be able to easily get down on the floor and play with my daughter. I don't want to wince every time I lower my body or when I get up out of a chair. At this point, my grimaces go unnoticed by me, but other people can't help but ask if I'm OK because I look worse than their grandmother. The long journey of questions will begin again so that I'm not in a wheelchair at 50.
In other news, the joy of my life:
("Thanks, Beth and Brock, for my favorite (and only) floor-time toy"!)
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