Four months

Dear Alexander-

My, oh my, you are four months old! You have learned so many things in the past month - it’s hard to choose my favorite.

First of all, you started giggling! Your first giggle was a few weeks ago, when I was tickling your face with my hair during a diaper change. Then you made us go weeks with no more laughter until recently, when you started doing it more often. It’s still pretty unpredictable what will make you laugh, but it fills my heart with joy every time you do.

You have also started pushing with your feet; this is huge! One day you were sitting in your bouncer chair when I realized you were practically doing a backbend! That’s when I pulled out your Jumperoo. After a few days you learned how to bounce around like crazy in that thing, and we have so much fun watching you.

Now that you push with your feet, you are sososososoclose to rolling over. We let you practice every night on your back, and you will be rolling within a week, I bet.

You’ve also gotten more coordinated with your hands. The first time I realized you had total control over your hands, you were rubbing your eyes because you were tired. It was adorable. You can grasp objects, although not intentionally, and you reach out and bat at toys now. You love to suck on your fingers, when last month you had just started bringing your fists to your mouth.

With fun “firsts” also come some less exciting milestones. This month, you had your first cold, and I’m learning how hard it is for babies to shake that nasal congestion, as your stuffiness lingers and lingers. We had our first out-of-town trip, for a sad reason, when we went to my hometown to say goodbye to your great-grandpa. You had your first dip in a swimming pool in the hotel, which you absolutely hated (hey, that water was frigid and I really can’t blame you).

You are a happy baby. You get fussy when you’re tired, and you still have the occasional reflux flare up. Every month when I write this letter I think “maybe next month I’ll be able to report that he’s started sleeping well at night!” Not the case for month four. : ) But I have hope, and we’ll keep working on it.

I think this past month has been the absolute CUTEST month of your life. We’ve gotten so many smiles, and you’ve become so much more alert and eager to look around at your surroundings. You like to sit in your high chair while your dad and I eat dinner, and you like to go on walks and stare at the sky and the leaves on the trees. You have such a gorgeous face that I get choked up sometimes, watching you take in the world around you. You’re perfect.

In a thousand tiny ways, you are growing more independent each day. It makes me so proud, and also a little sad. I love you to the moon and back.

Love,
Mom

One year ago today: Retrieval

It’s been a year, today, since the worst day of my life, aka the retrieval that led to my son, the other embryo we transferred along with him, and the frozen embryo we will use someday.

I’m emotional on the anniversary of this day, knowing that my Alex, the bouncing almost-four-month-old I dropped off at daycare this morning, was conceived right about this time, one year ago, in a different state, in a lab.

Until that moment, there was no Alexander. He was one of 17 eggs and one lucky sperm of millions. It’s blowing my mind to think about it, even now.

When I think about that awful day, I remember some things with crystal clarity:

1) the pain. The pain was so intense. It was far worse than anything I experienced with my c-section.

2) waking up in my husband’s arms on the floor of my parents’ house, feeling weaker and sicker than I’d ever felt

3) squeezing the nurse’s hand and crying “I just want to have a baby” over and over

4) the feeling of lightness I finally experienced, after hours in the ER, when they gave me some pain medicine that actually worked (I think it was toradol?)

It was a horrible day, but it was so worth it. My little boy is the most yearned for sort of miracle.

No matter how much he cries, how little he sleeps, or how much I have to sacrifice for him, I will never forget the longing I felt in my bones before I got to meet him.

Please, dear god, help me help him sleep.

My son still doesn’t sleep well at night. He’s 4 months on Saturday and everything I’ve read on the subject says he should be sleeping at least six hours at a time by now. We celebrate when we get three.

I have tried everything. I have changed his reflux medicine. His mattress is on an incline. There is a humidifier. There is swaddling. There is white noise. There is darkness. There is frequent nursing.

I’m out of ideas.

He goes to bed around 7. We do our bedtime routine and I put him down in his bassinet, awake, and he puts himself to sleep. It’s just that he doesn’t stay asleep very long, and he can’t put himself back to sleep.

Maybe 5% of the time I can get him back to sleep with a re-swaddle and a pacifier, but 95% of the time I have to nurse him.

An important distinction: he does not “nurse to sleep”. He’s awake when I put him back down. It’s just that nursing is the only thing that relaxes him enough to get back to sleep.

I’m so torn on what to do next. His four month appointment is next week and I know the pediatrician will encourage me to do CIO or controlled crying.

I go back and forth on this. Do I think my son will suffer long-term damage from CIO? Most likely, no. Do I think I can be there, hearing him scream for his mommy, and just ignore him? Absolutely not.

Do I think that the parents who are super judgmental about CIO are probably getting more sleep than I am, not waking up 5x a night (as if with a newborn), while still needing to appear professional and coherent the next day? Yes.

Part of me thinks that he will figure it out on his own if I’m just patient enough. Part of me thinks that I am seriously going to have a mental breakdown soon and in order for us all to be happier during the day, we need to do something drastic.

Lately I have been doing a dream feeding between 9:30-10:30, and after that he may sleep till 12:30-1 ish. Then he is awake in another two hours. Once we hit 3am, all hell breaks loose. He always wakes up at 3, 4, and 5, and somewhere in there I always give up and bring him into bed with me. My alarm goes off at 6.

He’s still in his bassinet, because I can’t imagine having to actually walk into another room all of those times in the night. That’s another thing – do I need to get him used to the crib before we start serious sleep training? It seems heartless to plunk him down somewhere totally alien and then let him scream.

Everything inside me rejects the idea of CIO. But I also can’t keep functioning like this. And really, neither can he. He needs more rest than he’s getting.

I don’t know what my next step is.

mommyhood

Just logging in to say that I love being a mom. Yes, I’m exhausted all the time, and it’s difficult to pump at work (verging on impossible, some days), and there are a lot more chores and a hell of a lot more laundry, and a lot less sleep, and some strain on the marriage, and my schedule is not my own, and I feel rushed a lot of the time. All of that is very, very true. And I do still cry from time to time, thinking "I’m doing it wrong", "I’m bad at this", and recently "I think he loves the babysitter more than he loves me."

But I’m also much happier than I remember being before. I wasn’t this happy when I was pregnant, and I certainly wasn’t this happy with I was struggling to get pregnant. I feel like myself. A new, mom version of myself, but it’s working for me, overall.

Here’s what my days look like.

6am – wake up.
6-6:45 – my husband gets Alex ready for daycare and entertains him. I get ready for work (breaking records every day in the arenas of fast showering, makeup applying and breakfast eating), and manage to squeeze in some snuggles and smiles with the baby.
6:45 – nurse
7 – leave the house with baby in car seat, diaper bag, pump, lunch box, and purse. It takes two trips to get everything to the car!
7:30 – drop Alex off at the sitter. Lots of kisses.
7:45 – get to work
8 – work day starts
9:30, 12:30, 3:30 – pump, as long as meetings don’t interfere (adjust as needed)
3:30 – my husband gets home and tidies up the house a bit, because he’s amazing.
4:15 – off work
4:30 – pick up Alex
5 – get home. Immediately throw diapers in the wash (every other day).
5-6:30 – the three of us play, prepare and eat dinner (my husband does most of the cooking in our house), and catch up on each other’s days. Alex usually nurses somewhere in there, depending on when he had his last bottle. If I’m washing diapers, I make a few trips downstairs to switch the washer settings and move from washer to dryer.
6:30 – bedtime routine begins with a bath, followed by jammies, reflux medicine, nursing, swaddling, a story, a snuggle. This is my favorite thirty minutes of the day.
7 – down in the bassinet
7-8 – I tidy up the house, unpack the diaper bag, pack it for the next day, unpack and wash my pump parts, wash bottles, make bottles for the next day, pack my pump back up, pack my lunch, bring dry diapers upstairs for husband to stuff.
8 – ahhhhh, I have a glass of wine and two Milano cookies. I relax for a while, sometimes read, sometimes watch TV, sometimes play on facebook and twitter. This is my second favorite part of the day.
9 – start winding down for the night – let the dogs out one last time, lock up, finish up any laundry
9:30* – in bed!
*please don’t read this to mean I’m getting 8.5 hours of sleep every night. Hardly. I’m still up about 4 times with the baby every night. Things are slowly improving, though, cross your fingers that things continue to get better.

Back to work.

Well, I did it. I woke up this morning and left my baby at home with his daddy and I came to work. And I didn’t die. And I think I can do it again tomorrow.

I spent some time last weekend reflecting over why I was dreading the return to work so much. It occurred to me that I was experiencing grief – deep grief – over my maternity leave ending, my baby growing up, and time passing more quickly than I wanted it to. The level of heartache I felt was akin to Alex actually being taken away from me. That’s what it felt like: that today, someone was going to come to my house and take him away and I’d never see him again.

So I told myself how ridiculous that was. And I made myself get over it as much as possible, and it kind of worked. I miss him and I’m sure there will be very difficult days, but I can do this.

…I can do it, but damn am I going to be TIRED.

We have shifted bedtime to 7pm. We do bath at 6:30, then jammies, a nursing session, a story, and bed (bassinet). He’s such a gem at bedtime – I put him down awake (sometimes with the pacifier, sometimes not), and he puts himself to sleep. Sometimes I have to give him his pacifier one time. Then he sleeps for about four hours (until 11pm).

And then all hell breaks loose. Last night he was up at 11, 1:30, from 3-4 crying with a tummyache, and 5:30. I got up at 6:30. I’m not sure why he can put himself to sleep at 7pm but seems inconsolable when he wakes up at night. Also not sure why he can sleep four hours at a time early on and then only short increments.

It makes for a very sleepy mommy. But I can do this. He will, eventually, sleep at night. I’m learning that it will not be on my schedule, or when all the books say he is capable of doing it, or when all of my friends claim their babies slept. I just need to be patient and wait it out, and be very tired in the meantime. But I’m totally willing to do it because, you know, he’s so flippin cute.

Things no one told me about having a baby

I was reflecting on all the things I want to remember to tell my sister and friends when they get ready to have their first babies. I thought it would be worth writing them all down. Here is a quick collection of things I feel like I learned the hard way!

Visitors - just don't have them the first 2-3 weeks, if you can help it. People want to "help", but they don't really mean it. They want to hold the baby. I can hold my own baby, and very much enjoy doing so, thank you. When they're that little, they just sleep anyway. If you want to help, I need you to do the dishes, sweep the floor, clean the toilet, go grocery shopping, make me a meal, bring me a glass of water, listen to me while I cry....there are a million things you can do to help. I felt very possessive over Alex and I got so annoyed when people would come over to hold the baby, and I ended up feeling like I needed to offer them something to drink or entertain them.

Night sweats - gross. In the first few weeks, these were so disgusting I felt like washing the sheets every day. I would sweat all night and even when I snuck in a nap. I still have them occasionally, and I'll wake up with sweat literally dripping down my chest! When they first hit, I felt like maybe I was getting sick, since I didn't feel hot but I was so sweaty. I almost took my temperature one morning! I googled it and found out this was common, but I couldn't figure out why none of my pregnancy/childbirth books mentioned it.

Postpartum hormones - I guess people did prepare me, or tried to. I was warned vaguely about the baby blues and PPD, but no one told me how completely fragile I would feel, all the time, for days. Everything made me feel like I could just fall apart. I felt like an infant myself, a lot - wandering around and crying, incapable of pulling it together. The sleep deprivation didn't help.

Appetite - this has been all over the place since Alex arrived. Initially, I had no appetite at all. I had to force myself to eat because I knew I needed to for my milk supply. I remember gagging on a granola bar, just trying to choke it down. I wonder if this is some preservation thing that kicks in, because you don't have much time to prepare food for yourself? Now, though, I can't eat enough. For instance, it's 2pm and I've had the following to eat today: a bowl of cereal, cheeze its, two fried eggs, hashbrowns, and a frozen Amy's burrito. I'm still hungry.

Nursing - when you sit down to nurse, you need to have the following things, always: your cell phone, the remote for the TV, a glass of water, a snack. Also, pee before you start. Nursing a newborn takes a good 30 minutes and once you get them latched on I promise you won't want to go anywhere.

Going poo - I have a well documented problem with constipation. During pregnancy it was awful. The first few weeks of Alex's life I was constantly in the bathroom with the opposite problem. The weird thing was that nursing stimulated my bowels. Many times I was forced to choose between taking him off the breast so I could run to the restroom, or nursing on the toilet, which seemed really really gross to me.

Leaving the house by yourself - just do it. It won't get easier, even if you wait until he's six weeks old. Try to make yourself leave the house as soon as you can get 2 ounces pumped in a bottle for someone to give the baby. Even if you only go get your oil changed, you will feel better and more like a real person.

Leaving the house with the baby - just do it. The worst that will happen is that he will scream and it will stress you out and potentially embarrass you. That has happened to everyone! You may need to nurse him in the car in the parking lot. It will be worth it to get out into the world.

You're not doing it wrong - because you will feel like you are. If the baby is fed and doesn't have a poopy butt, you're not doing it wrong, period. This one is REALLY important, because I felt like I was doing it wrong for a long time.

Support system - make sure you have one. You will need advice and people to vent to. Make sure they have the same values as you do - you don't want to blow off steam to your mother about breastfeeding if she's going to ask "why don't you just give him formula?"

Egalitarian, non-gendered parenting - I am a huge believer in this. I swore up and down that my husband and I would be totally equal when it comes to parenting. And he is a great dad and loves Alex so much. But I still feel that parenting is primarily my responsibility. I can't shake that feeling no matter what I do. When A is holding the baby and he cries, I physically cannot resist trying to take him.

More babies - you will think about this way earlier than you think you will.

Resentment - no matter how much you yearned for, tried for, and ultimately love your child, you will have moments (or okay, days) when you miss your old life. You will get on facebook and hate all of your bitchy friends who are out drinking without you. That's okay. It doesn't mean you don't love your baby. Your old life is all you know, and now you are getting used to this one, which is a great life but it does mean you don't get to have a summer suntan because you're stuck inside with a baby all day.

Moms, what did I miss?

The blog question

I think every infertility blogger deals with it at some point: what to do once you complete your journey.

My infertility blog has become a mommy blog, and I don't know how I feel about it. This was never the plan. I have a new blog created, with an adorable new name and matching twitter handle to go along with it, that was supposed to be the mommy blog. The plan was to switch over once Alex was born. I also intended to stop being anonymous.

I don't know why I can't make the switch. I feel too much pressure. This space is so comfortable, I love all of the people who come to visit, and I know I can write anything and still be accepted, with no judgment.

If I become just a regular "mommy blogger", and my posts about my son are not linked in any way to my infertility background, I would feel like I'm not being completely honest. It's such a part of who I am.

So I'm going to keep blogging here, even though I feel a little squeamish about it. I need to give it a new name and a new look, update my bio and tagline, try to make it a new blog in a different way.

Someday I'll find something to do with that other blog...

Breastfeeding update

Alex is ten weeks old tomorrow, which means I have been exclusively breastfeeding him for ten weeks. (Well, okay, he got about 25 ml formula on his fifth day of life due to jaundice. Can we not count that? I mean it was like three gulps.)

I never thought I would feel the way that I do about breastfeeding.

When I was pregnant, it seemed like everyone I knew struggled so much with it. I anticipated supply problems because why wouldn't I have them? I had so many problems getting pregnant, I didn't have any confidence that my body could do something so (seemingly) complicated.

I took the class and I felt a little better, but still nervous. I was annoyed by all the anti-formula rhetoric the LC spouted, and I thought I would probably just nurse until I went back to work and then switch to formula.

Alex was born, and the first month of nursing was super easy. It was exhausting, yes, and very very time-consuming. But I didn't have any nipple pain at all. The only pain I experienced was at the pump.

The only thing we struggled with was communication. I had a hard time knowing when he was hungry and when he was done eating, so I kind of assumed he was always hungry, which meant I was literally nursing the majority of the day. If he fussed after nursing, I'd latch him right back on. This persists - it's still tough for me to be 100% sure he's done eating.

Alex was a very sleepy baby and I had to spend a lot of time waking him up to continue eating. But he had a good latch, was gaining weight, and his jaundice went away.

Then weeks 5, 6, and 7 hit and things fell apart. Alex became more alert and realized maybe he'd rather cry than nurse. His reflux set in and he fussed at the breast, arching his back, shaking his head, refusing to eat because of his heartburn, but then crying because he was hungry.

I cried a lot over breastfeeding during those weeks. I was at my wit's end and ready to stop. I thought about switching to pumping exclusively, I thought about switching to formula. It was about this time that I also felt so.damn.tired every minute of the day, and I was very tempted by the thought that formula would help him sleep longer at night.

But already, I felt very attached to this breastfeeding thing, which I never, ever thought would be the case. So I (stubbornly) stuck it out and we got him some good reflux medicine and we got over that awful hump.

Now, I can honestly say that I love breastfeeding. It doesn't hurt, in fact, it feels pleasurable in many ways, the way it feels good to pee after you've been holding it. It's a good excuse for me (a go, go, go person) to lie or sit down and relax for a few minutes with my baby. Now, he looks at me while he eats and sometimes smiles.

A big part of my reluctance to go back to work is the amount of nursing sessions I'm going to miss every day. I will truly miss these special moments and look forward to them on the weekends. I also worry that I won't be able to pump enough to keep up with his hunger, as I have a well-documented struggle with pumping.

I started out ambivalent about breastfeeding, willing to try it, but not particularly interested in it. But now, the thought of weaning fills me with dread. I love the feeling when my breasts feel full, knowing that there is milk in there to feed my child, and then the soft feeling once he's emptied them, knowing that he's been well nourished by my body.

Barring any troubles keeping up with pumping, I plan to nurse to six months at the very least. Ideally, I would love to go the whole first year. The biggest thing stopping me from going a whole year will be a vacation we're planning during Alex's tenth month. But first I will set my sights on that six month mark.

I feel so fortunate, because although I have worked very hard to be successful at breastfeeding, I know a lot of it has been luck. I've been lucky to have a decent supply, a full-term, healthy baby who nurses well, and virtually no pain at all. I'm thankful that this one thing has gone smoothly for me, and I hope it continues to be enjoyable during this upcoming transition.

Finally

Alex has been so cute lately. A lot of smiles, much less fussing, and cooing up a storm. I think his voice is the most precious thing I've ever heard.

Don't get me wrong, I love my son every day. But the past couple of days I have downright adored him.

Yesterday we spent all day at a big BBQ. A lot of my in-laws, a lot of people I'd never met before, a LOT of kids. It was the kind of day that would have sent me over the edge during IF treatments.

I was so proud of my Alex. In a group of kids and babies, he was the sweetest baby of them all, and he was all MINE.

Finally, I wasn't just the quiet infertile, aching to someday have a baby of her own.

Finally, my son is here with me.

Going back to work.

I go back to work three weeks from tomorrow. I am dreading it so much that I don't know if I'll even be able to enjoy my last three weeks on maternity leave.

All I think about is how much I do not want to go back. I don't think I can do it.

When I go back, my husband will watch Alex Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and a dear, trusted babysitter will watch him Tuesday and Thursday. And that's great, it's really an ideal situation, except for the fact that it would be more ideal for me to be with him every day. I want to be with him every day. I want his every minute.

I want to be in charge of his routine. I want to see all of his smiles. I want to change all of his diapers.

I want to keep breastfeeding all day long. I don't want to switch to primarily pumping.

I don't want to go sit in corporate America in a cubicle all day long while other people raise my baby. I worked too hard for his little life.

The thing is, I'm our primary breadwinner. And my baby needs me to work so that he can have cars to ride around in, and a nice house with his own little nursery. He needs me to work so he can go to the doctor and have good health insurance.

In the next three weeks, I have to find a way to think about going back to work as something good I'm doing for my baby. I need to stop thinking of it as a death sentence. Because it feels like a death sentence.

Two months

Dear Alexander-

Here we are on your two month birthday, sitting in the same recliner that I wrote your one month post in, with you sleeping on my chest just like a month ago. It may not sound like it, but a lot has actually changed in the past month.

The most exciting change is that you have learned to smile. At first we could coax a smile out of you with a lot of silly voices and tickles. Now, you smile at your toys, you smile at the ceiling fan, you smile when you see our faces or hear our voices for the first time in a while. You smile through your entire bath time with your dad every evening.

Nothing is more precious than your smile!

You have also gained a lot of head and neck control in the past month. You're still floppy sometimes, but when I put you on my shoulder to burp, you love to look around and see the world. When the pediatrician put you on your tummy at your 8 week appointment, she was so impressed by how strong you are!

You are still a tiny peanut - 9lb, 6oz, 5th percentile for height and weight. But someone has to be small, right? You are generally a very happy boy, except that you still struggle with reflux and some painful gas at times. It breaks my heart when I feel like you're in pain, but we have some new medicine and hopefully you'll outgrow it soon.

Our sleep situation has drastically improved in the past week. At night, we set you down in your bassinet, drowsy, and you put yourself to sleep for a few hours. You still wake up to eat just about every three hours, but I'm happy to feed you as often as you need until you're ready to stretch out those night feedings. You are content to sleep in your bassinet until about 3 or 4 am, when you just want to snuggle mommy.

As a family, your dad and I have started getting more confident. We've gone out on a few trips - to lunch, to a local arts festival, to the mall. You're pretty content in your Ergo carrier most times, unless you get hungry and have a meltdown, like in the middle of Kohl's yesterday. : )

You continue to be an absolute joy. Our lives quite literally revolve around you. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Love,
Mom

7 weeks

- Reflux continues to be frustrating. I'm not sure if the baby Zantac ever really helped as much as it should have, and if it did he has already outgrown his dosage. We are back to the fussy feedings and I just hate knowing he's in pain. : ( I have a call into the pediatrician about it.

- I keep remembering little details about my birth experience (like the blood pressure cuff being stuck around my elbow and the anesthesiologist trying to move it for me during surgery) that I never recorded anywhere. I get really panicky when this happens. I want to remember every second of that day. Even now I look at photos from the hospital and it seems a world away, not just 7 weeks.

- I have given up trying to use the bassinet at all and now we're just straight-up co-sleeping. I'm going to try to talk to the pediatrician about this next week at his 8 week checkup. I'm wondering if the reflux isn't a prime reason he's so comfortable on my chest, or sleeping next to me, which keeps him just slightly angled toward my body.

- One thing I never wrote on here is that we did go through with our decision not to circumcise Alex. And holy hell, was there a backlash for that. My parents were very upset, especially my dad, and my mom had a "talk" with me in the hospital to make sure I was "thinking clearly". Pretty much every single person who visited us asked when he'd be circumcised and if he'd had it done yet, so we had to explain that no, he hadn't been and he wouldn't be. It wasn't very fun being immediately put on the defensive when my baby was 72 hours old!

- We have been using the cloth diapers for a week and a half now. It's going very well. We started out with the shorter inserts and have since switched to the longer ones, and we haven't had any more leaks. Full disclosure - we are using disposables at night for more absorbency, because we still have NB size left and didn't want them to go to waste, and also to stretch my stash a bit right now. I have 25 BG 4.0s and can go three days if we use the disposables at night. I also have 5 Fuzzibunz but I haven't used those and I'm thinking of selling them - not sure yet. The cloth is a lot of laundry, but it's actually easier than I anticipated.

- I go back to work in 5 weeks and have no pants that button.

- Sunday night, Alex went 4.5 hours and then 4 hours between feedings. It was amazing. Last night he had a 4 hr 45 min stretch, and then went back to 2.5 hours. Let's hope he continues to have these 4ish hour stretches, because they're amazing!

One month

Dear Alexander-

Today you are one month old! I can't believe it. A month ago today I woke up and you were still in my belly. Now, you are a real live person who has been around for four weeks and three days.

The past month has been the most amazing and also the most humbling in my life. You showed up in this world with your soft skin, your tiny cooing noises, and your beautiful face and you absolutely pulled the rug out from under me. I had no idea I could feel such powerful love for someone so small, and I also had no idea how much work someone so small could be.

The first couple of weeks were rough. I cried a lot from hormones and lack of sleep. But even in the most frustrating and exhausting moments, I loved you with every fiber of my being.

You have taught me so much already. You've taught me that I really can survive without a routine (mainly because I have no choice, but still). I've learned that my needs are so minor now. I don't care if I need to eat or I'm thirsty - if I'm feeding you and you look content, I can wait. It doesn't matter that I'd rather sleep on my tummy - if you are contentedly sleeping on my chest, I'll sleep on my back for hours.

Everyone who meets you falls in love with you. But, in a way, you are still all mine. Not quite as much as when I was pregnant with you, but I still know you in a way that others do not. I am the only one who can feed you. I understand you the best (daddy understands you well, too, but not quite like I do). Your face has started changing when you hear my voice. You sleep best in my arms. You are completely dependent on me, and it is as flattering as it is overwhelming. You need me at least every two and a half hours when you get hungry, and while it means I don't get much else done, there's nothing I'd rather be doing.

I think that motherhood, for me, is always going to include a bit of mourning. Already a whole month has passed of your life that I will never get back. You are still so small and cuddly - while I look forward to watching you grow up, I know that I will miss this time with an ache I can't imagine once you are running around, being a little boy.

Right now you are asleep on me because we just got done nursing. I want you to know that you are the perfect baby. You have made all of my dreams come true.

Love,
Mom

Wish I had more time to write more coherently.

1. Breastfeeding is a challenge. As soon as I think I have it figured out, something changes. I'm still waiting for it to get easy.

2. Some nights, little man will fall asleep nursing, I'll put him in his bassinet, and he'll sleep for 2ish hours. Other nights, he wants nothing to do with the bassinet and will only sleep in my arms, and then he'll sleep for 4ish hours. What gives? I'm not really all that comfortable with co-sleeping in that way, and I don't get good rest when he's in my bed. Some nights maybe he just needs mommy more than others?

3. I would be just about completely healed from my c-section by now, except that, like an idiot, I decided to get the stroller out and go for a walk Saturday morning. Carrying the heavy ass stroller up our porch steps totally effed up the right side of my abdomen, which is now very swollen, and I have bruises all over. I'm a bit afraid of what my gyno will say at my postpartum checkup today.

4. I can't believe my little man is 2 weeks old today. His cord fell off last night. I feel like he has already started changing so much! He goes to the ped tomorrow and will hopefully be back at his birth weight. If not, I'm afraid they will give me a speech about supplementing formula, which I am not at all interested in doing. (AT. ALL.)

5. We got the ergo out and played with it this morning. Once it cools off tonight I hope to go for another walk with that instead of the stroller.

6. I think someone is going to have to literally push me out the door to get me to leave the house. I have been pumping and have plenty now to leave him with my husband for a few hours. But I'm afraid to go.

7. Pumping mystifies me. I have worked up to 3x a day (4x on a good day) and I consistently get about 1.5-2 ounces a day. I'm happy with that. But it's completely unpredictable when I'll get a good amount and when I'll be eeking it out drop by drop.

8. I have watched more tv in the past week than the rest of my life put together. Right now I'm enjoying the show New Girl.

9. I am much better, emotionally, than I have been. The first few days home from the hospital were really, really rough. Everything felt so raw. Sometimes I could hardly look at him because his little face just broke my heart. Things feel better now.

10. The hardest part, by far, of parenting (for me) is learning to silence the voices around you and listen to your gut about what is right for your child. It's difficult when you're new at this and everyone you go to for advice (La Leche League, the pediatrician, the Lactation Consultant, your friends, the internet) contradicts one another. I have stopped going to people for advice for a while and I'm just trying to make my own decisions (one mistake at a time).

11. Breastfeeding is a lot easier with a smart phone. I am reading all of your posts, but it's hard to comment one-handed, on a mobile device, at 3 am.

12. Sometimes I ache to be pregnant with him again. Sometimes I really miss having him all to myself. When he hiccups, I think about how they felt inside of me. But on the other hand, I spend far less time in the restroom and I can finally (!!!) sleep on my stomach again! When I miss being pregnant, I just tell myself I can get pregnant again, which I hope is true.

More later, for now, here's a photo of my sweet little boy.

Some observations - 6 days post partum

1. I don't think I got the tone right in the past few posts. There were a lot of hard things about the hospital stay, but mainly it was joyous. Seeing my husband hold his son for the first time. Watching my dad meet his first grandchild. Kissing Alexander's feet. I'm sorry I focused so much on the negative! Maybe I need to pick better times to write.

2. Here is how I feel about parenting for the first 6 days. It's like you won a billion dollars in the lottery. All of your dreams have come true! You feel ecstatic and on top of the world. Everyone is happy for you. The only catch is that you have to carry the one billion dollars, in cash, on you at all times, and let's just say that you live in the inner city, in a high crime area, and let's also say that you have to wear a sign that flashes neon that says "I have a billion dollars cash on my person." It's the most incredible feeling, but it also leaves you feeling very vulnerable. Or maybe that's just the hormones?

3. Speaking of hormones, we have now identified two separate entities: Lulu and "Mona", as in Hormonal Mona. I warn my husband when Mona is coming out. When this is the case, you can find me staring into the baby's face, weeping about the fact that he will eventually grow up and stop being so small. My heart hurts preemptively that he'll be a teenager some day and think I'm lame. When I am Mona, I am also just overwhelmed with joy and can cry for 15 minutes about his lips.

4. Becoming a mom is amazing. Equally great is watching your husband become a father. I've never seen so much tenderness in his face. I have fallen in love with him all over again. It helps that he is especially supportive and loving - just an incredible man to begin with.

5. Unfortunately, today my husband was diagnosed with diabetes. He's 32 years old. I have refused to google this and read all of the horrible things that go along with it. My heart hurts about it and I can't really face it with a 6 day old baby.

6. It occurs to me several times a day that my son is perfect. This may not exactly be a unique feeling among new parents, but it sure feels good.

7. Alex was born at 6 lb 4 oz, left the hospital on Saturday at 5 lb 7 oz, and today (Monday) is 5 lb 12 oz. Five ounces gained in two days! Yay breastfeeding.

The rest of the hospital stay.

So, where did we leave off? The first trip to the bathroom was terrible. But the day after the section, I woke up and ate breakfast and things turned around. The next trips weren't bad. I got my catheter out, got unhooked from the IV. My husband showered me!! Then, I put on real clothes instead of a hospital gown and I really started feeling like a person again.

Baby was a bit fussy day and night 2. He didn't want to sleep unless he was being held. This actually provided me some of my favorite moments of the hospital stay. Even though it's totally dangerous, I would be breastfeeding him in my bed and then just snuggle up to him and we'd sleep together. The moments when I woke up (as much as I could, since I never fell totally asleep with his tiny body next to me) and saw him there, smelled him, are some of the best moments of my life. It was like all of my dreams had come true, which I guess they had.

I started having serious cavewoman instincts. Every morning they would take him to the nursery for his pediatrician visit and I ached when he was gone. I almost couldn't let them roll him out of the room, but I did, and even though I was exhausted I would just lie there waiting until he could come back.

I had a bit of a breakdown during night 2 because baby was fussy. He'd get very fussy after eating and in my mind, my breast milk was making him mad. Silly, but it felt true at the time.

Night three was pretty bad. The night nurse said his bilirubin was high, and warned us that he may get discharged a day later than planned. She suggested feeding as often as possible because he hadn't pooped enough, and getting him to eliminate would help get rid of the jaundice.

So we had a marathon night of forcing baby to eat and not sleeping. We were in rough shape in the morning. They took the baby to the nursery and kept asking me "has your milk come in yet?" I thought it was starting to, but honestly didn't know. My breasts felt hard and sore but I had just spent all night forcefully breastfeeding, so I didn't know how to reply. Because both nurses and the pediatrician asked me this, I felt like it was my fault that he was having jaundice problems. I took a shower and I cried my heart out. It was the worst feeling.

Turns out baby did have jaundice, pretty badly too. So while I was discharged on Friday, he was not, and we were allowed to stay at the hospital, in our room, as a "boarder", free of charge. (he was the patient, not me, but I could sleep in the room, etc.)

This was so, so hard for me. I was not allowed to hold him except to feed him, and I was told it was very important for him to stay in the isolette under the lights every possible minute. Since he's such a leisurely eater, this meant I really couldn't breastfeed him or he wouldn't be under the lights enough to make a difference. So I did a combination of quick breastfeeding (just 10 minutes or so), pumping and feeding from a bottle (pumping on the day your milk comes in is terrible, I don't recommend it), and feeding some formula. I wasn't happy about supplementing formula and introducing a bottle already. But, say what you will about formula, it kept him full a lot longer than my breastmilk, which allowed him to stay under the lights more and get better more quickly.

I cried so hard the entire morning he was under the lights - this was all yesterday. My breasts hurt and I was so tired, and it was so hard to see him in the scary machine. It just made him look way more sick than he was. And the little eye mask was very heartbreaking to me.

Also, the hormones were completely overwhelming. I woke up from one nap and it was like I was an infant myself. I just wandered around crying. The machine made everything in the room look blue, and I thought my purple cell phone was my husband's blue cell phone. I cried choking sobs because I thought I had the wrong cell phone. Seriously, if you have not had your baby yet, this is my warning to you: postpartum hormones are NO JOKE.

I haven't really expressed it well in these blog posts, but I want to add that I had excellent care the entire time I was in the hospital. I loved all of my nurses. Everyone was so nice and compassionate. Yesterday, when we couldn't take him home as planned, was very tough for me, but I kept reminding myself that a little jaundice is nothing compared to what we feared we were up against when we found out he was coming early. Rationally, I knew it was all okay, but the hormones and lack of sleep made it hard (this is still something I'm dealing with, even though we came home today).

I hope to write a little bit tomorrow about coming home and my first impressions of parenthood : )

C-section recap

Tuesday, c-section day, Alexander's birthday, was a day I'll never forget for the rest of my life. I guess I got all of my anxiety out of my system in the weekend prior to the birth, because I was very calm and collected as we prepared for the procedure. Only when I got to the OR and prepared to get my spinal did I get nervous, and that was mainly because 1) my husband wasn't allowed to be with me for that part, and 2) it was SO COLD that I was shivering and worrying that I wouldn't be able to stop before they put the needle, you know, in my spine.

Once the spinal was in, things moved very quickly. My legs and feet started going numb, and they placed the catheter. They tilted my bed steeply to the left and my left leg kept falling off while I was powerless to move it back! It was creepy.

You can't feel any pain during the section, but you do feel pressure. I felt pressure on my chest and heard them say "Wow, her heart is racing". I felt them pulling and tugging on things to get to him. Then, I felt a major lightening sensation and I knew he was no longer in my body. It's difficult to explain, but it was cool.

Once he was born, my husband followed him to the table in the corner with the pediatrician. I turned my head and was able to watch him be weighed, measured and cleaned up. A got to cut the cord, not while it was still attached to me, obviously, but he got to trim the part that was attached to him. He said it was a little weird. I was so glad he got to do this! It was one part of a vaginal birth I didn't want him to miss out on.

While I was being sewn up, they brought him over to me and the anesthesiologist helped me hold him for the first time. I can't remember a single thought that really went through my head at that time. Everything was so overwhelming! I do remember joking with the doctor, "That's 6 pounds I don't have to lose!" The anesthesiologist was the first person I told his name to. I liked her a lot, she was way kinder than her job required.

Then we were wheeled into the recovery room where we both held and admired him for a while. I nursed for the first time. He is an excellent nurser - great latch and strong suck, although he's often too tired and falls asleep at the breast. I just remember thinking that I was so lucky he could breathe and I could spend that time with him. 

The rest of the day and night are a bit of a blur. Lots of family held him. It took a few hours to be able to move my legs again. I sat on a pad that slowly accumulated blood, and I didn't enjoy that very much. I was cathed all day and night. I wasn't allowed to eat until I passed gas, and then I was cautioned to take it slow so I mainly ate jello and popsicles. We slept, but fitfully because we thought for sure he'd stop breathing at any moment. One time I stood at the edge of the bed with the help of two nurses.

At about 5am Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, I walked to the bathroom. It was horrible. I hadn't eaten since dinner on Monday (except for some jello cups). The pain was bad, I was bleeding down my leg, and there were catheter and IV tubes all around me. My blood pressure dropped severely and it seemed like it took forever to get back to my bed! I share this because this was the worst the entire recovery has been, and I think it was primarily because I lacked strength. If I had eaten a little something I think it would have been far less scary.

I hope to go over the rest of the days in this much detail soon : ) (I wrote this while pumping, yes, I am that awesome already, no, I'm not happy that I'm already pumping, but I'll give you details later).

Much love to all of you!

Our little man

Alexander John was born yesterday, 5/15/12 at 9:12 am. He weighed 6lbs, 3oz and was 19 inches long. I promise he's happier than he looks in these photos.

The c-section wasn't super fun but it didn't last long. I will always remember the anesthesiologist lowering the surgical screen so I could see a little, cheesy hand sticking up from out of my body. I heard the doctors say "He's got some meat on his bones!" and knew we didn't need to worry. He needed a bit of oxygen for just a moment right after birth, but other than that he's been perfectly healthy.

I am recovering well and will be going home on Friday. I hope to give you more details soon.

Birth plan

Disclaimer: This post is not meant to judge. I think all choices we make as women are deeply personal, and I understand that all women labor differently. Have your baby at home, in a hospital, in the middle of a cornfield for all I care. I don’t care if you ask for an epidural the first time you feel a contraction, or you do the whole thing without so much as a Tylenol. I really don’t care what you do. This is just my story of deciding what’s right for me.

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While I was trying to get pregnant, I never gave a single thought to labor and delivery. Who cares, right? If I get to that point I’ll be so grateful that I won’t care how the baby comes out.

Now, I find that I do care. The decisions I’m making now (and will make in the moments surrounding the birth of my child) are increasingly emotional and laden with signficant baggage other than just having a baby. If only it were that simple.

I considered a natural birth, but decided pretty quickly it wasn’t for me. I kept thinking about my second retrieval and the immense pain I suffered in the ER. I had never known pain like that before, and I’m sure this will be worse. I would have taken any pain medicine anywhere in my body to make that feeling go away.

If I tell myself I can get through this without any pain meds and then end up needing them, I will feel like an immense failure. So, a natural birth plan wasn’t in the cards for me.

I had no “birth plan” written down (seemed too arrogant to me – too much like tempting fate). But if I had written one it would have gone like this: Labor as much as possible at home. Go to the hospital when contractions have been 5 minutes apart for an hour. Labor with birthing ball and position changes until I can’t handle the pain anymore, get IV drugs, labor some more, push, have the baby. I wasn’t planning on an epidural, but I wasn’t opposed to one, either.

I saw it on a scale like this: Natural Childbirth – IV pain meds – epidural. Somewhere in the middle seemed great for me.

Last night, in our second class, we learned all about the different pain management options. That’s when I learned that my hospital stops the IV pain meds at 6cm, so you don’t give birth to a sleepy baby with shallow respiration. The epidural doesn’t affect the baby at all.

So my whole “plan” went out the window – I want the pain meds for the really hard part, the last few centimeters and the pushing. I never wanted them for the early part. So, I kind of gave up on the IV medicine option.

Which left me with natural childbirth (which I had already ruled out) and epidural.

I sat there in mental anguish for about 30 minutes. I thought I didn’t want an epidural. I didn’t want to “give up”, “cop out”, feel numb from the waist down, institutionalize the birthing process, etc, etc.

I was surprised that when the epidural seemed, objectively, like the best option to me, especially since I could decide when I got it, I was so heartbroken by the idea of having one.

What it boiled down to was this: I felt like I would be less of a woman if I got the epidural. Because I should be able to handle the pain for the sake of my baby.

That’s when a lightbulb clicked in my head: I have already handled a lot of pain for the sake of this baby. I had an HSG that made my uterus spasm and I felt like I was being ripped apart. I had a laparoscopy. I had two retrievals. I had OHSS and my body was wracked with pain, combined with a bad reaction to anesthesia that made me alternate between vomiting and fainting.

I was trying to tell myself I could do without the epidural because I’m a strong woman.

But I have already proven to myself that I am a strong woman.

I am a strong woman who is planning to labor for as long as she can without an epidural, and then (most likely) get one.

I am a strong woman who is also flexible, who understands – all too well - that things do not always go as we plan.

I am a strong woman who is also humble: None of my plans trump the baby’s plans. If he’s breech, or too small, or in distress, they will cut him out of me, and I will not let that make me feel like a failure.

I am a strong woman who will be a good mother no matter how my baby is delivered into this world.

And you, all of you who read my blog, whether you have your baby in a cornfield or on a surgical bed with general anesthesia, whether you adopt or use a surrogate or decide not to have children – you are all strong women too. : )

Shower and nursery photos

Yesterday was the shower, and it was a perfect day. I had so much fun, got very emotional, and we got a lot of presents!

The shower was Dr. Seuss themed, and it was adorable. I am so happy about the day that I am going to break my own rule and post some photos of myself (no guarantees how long they'll be up though).

me at 30 weeks, 4 days 

me with Horton, and the photobook my mom made me documenting my pregnancy (from retrieval to 28 weeks)

ducky in the punch : )

They had Seussical cards for the guests to share their advice, and I'm going to type some up here - the ones that made me laugh or cry or both:

From my parents (my mom wrote this poem - I was so impressed. A had to read it out loud because I was a weepy mess).

The timing is near, you've waited so long! Just overnight you'll become Dad and Mom.
You have lots to learn, a lot you must know. "Who should I ask?" "Where should I go?"
In choosing wisely in whom you can trust, of course we must say you should always call us.
We'll tell you the truth, or help you decide, or just sit and listen to what's on your mind.
No Wockets or Sneetches, no Zax or Lorax,
No Who down in Whoville, not the Grinch's dog Max,
Not even the Grinch with the strength of ten Grinches plus two
Could become a great couple of parents like you!

From my grandpa:

The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother. -Theodore Hasburgh

From our good friends, Ben and Amy:

Be yourselves, you will be good parents. No Disney movies - these breed unrealistic expectations and gender stereotypes. Don't train this babe to be a celebrity. Show him to appreciate small victories, like being resourceful. Make sure to show the baby how to cook and change a tire. Take heed of that tiger mom book. I think kids get 'mental health' days from school, too. Read lots o' books. Duh.

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The nursery is also coming along well. It's definitely not done: we have a crib with no mattress and a changing table with no changing pad (instead it's full of stacks of receiving blankets and burp clothes and toys). But, it's on its way!

that bare corner will house my glider, once they get their act together and send me arms that match the base! : / 

Due date countdown: 65 days!