Falling in Love.

We’ve turned some kind of corner and we are ALL falling in love with Peter.  Even Jeff admitted last night that he’s starting to feel attached to the little guy, which, in his own words, “is quite early for me!” 

All  his thick newborn issues are starting to thin out, leaving space for his true personality to show through, and, I have to say, I think we’ve got a gem here.  He is even and happy and mellow.   He seems to be getting over whatever weird stomach issues he was having and he spends the majority of his awake time in our room, peacefully looking around at anything with contrast.  When he gets tired or bored he whimpers a little bit, I wrap him up tight and put him on the bed where he gazes out the window until sleep gets the better of him and he drifts off. 

And, he’s starting to throw out smile and coos left and right.  They are absolutely addicting.  Even though he’s getting so much easier, I’m not getting any more productive because the time I was spending burping and consoling and figuring out is now completely consumed with trying to coax out every last coo and smile.  I have to tear myself away from his side to maintain any semblance of productivity. 

I can’t seem to get a smile with my big camera…..but isn’t it still so beautiful in all it’s iPhone blurriness?

I love how he lights up when I talk to him first thing in the morning.  I love how much he concentrates on the different sounds I make, watching my mouth ever so carefully to figure out how I’m producing the sounds.  I love watching him so seriously try to figure out his world.   I love seeing him discover his hands.  I love his changing expressions when someone else comes in the room (he gets a little worried look on his face whenever he hears Emmeline).   And I love it that I’m starting to speak his language, that I can read his cries, his cues, his grunts.  We’re figuring this out together. 

I also love it that he is sleeping a little more predictably.  Every stretch over five hours that he gives me is a true gift.  I wake up with rocks on my chest and full of giddy excitement that I’ve actually really slept.  Sometimes I can’t even go back to sleep I’m so excited. I love how good he is at falling asleep on his own.  Often I’ll leave him somewhere and then find him fast asleep without a peep.  It’s hard to believe he can do this suddenly when the first 6 weeks of his life were spent tirelessly walking and rocking him to sleep. 

It’s hard to believe that in just 8 weeks he’s gone from this little glassy eyed soul to this inquisitive little man. 

I remember when Peter was four weeks old (seems like a lifetime ago) and we had a particularly bad night.  I was exhausted from night after night of not sleeping and had spent much of that night standing and bouncing and crying and worrying.  Finally at 6am I handed Peter to Jeff and told him he had to take over because if he didn’t I was going to loose my mind.  I remember laying next to the two of them looking at Peter’s profile silhouetted in the cruel morning light filtering through the window and thinking (in all seriousness), “He has the ugliest profile!”  And I remember thinking that I didn’t really like him very much at that moment.  And even though I knew it was exhaustion and hormones talking more than me…. it still felt real and overwhelming and horrible. 

I think I can safely say that those times are behind us. I’m sure we still have plenty of bumps in the road ahead of us (he’s upstairs crying as I type this) but I can honestly say, I think he has a beautiful profile. 

We’ve made it.  And I’m smitten.

the dirty work

It’s always around 3 weeks post partum that things start to get really rough around here.  Just as the meals stop coming in and Jeff goes back to work the baby wakes up and gets all colicky and fussy and sleepless.  At that point I’ve lost any kind of adrenaline that carried me through the first few weeks and am left with a body that’s so darn tired from compounding sleepless nights that I think I might just fall over dead.  Just then is when my mother-in-law always shows up and works her little tail off to help us survive.  She gets the raw end of the deal.  No more sleepy peaceful newborn to drink in, no more excited kids, no more happy mom….just a household of grumpy, sleep deprived, attention neglected people, loads of dirty laundry and an empty fridge.  

Nedra just jumps right in and gets us all into shape.  She fills up the fridge and freezer, empties all the hampers and fills all the drawers, walks the halls during those bewitching hours with a crying baby so that we can eat dinner (that she’s made) together, showers the kids with thoughtful little gifts that keep them occupied and happy for hours, takes them on little dates filling them with enough love and attention that it lasts them a few weeks, lets me get out for air and exercise, makes sure I get to bed early and squeeze in good long naps and coaches me through the emotional mess that’s inside my brain.

She’s done this with each of our children…..really carrying us through some of the most challenging times our family has had to face. 

This is the amazing quilt that she made for Peter.  He only looks worried because it’s windy outside and he can’t figure out how to deal with that much stimulation!Can I be the same kind of mother/mother in law for my kids?  Right now I can’t imagine ever having that kind of strength and energy…..I’m hoping it will come after a lot of years of mothering and maybe a few good nights of sleep.

Thank you Grandma Shumway!

motherload of sacrifice

I don’t mean to dwell on this whole sleep depravation/woe is me theme, but, before I move on, I just want to say that I am FLABERGASTED…..yes, utterly flabbergasted when I stop to realize that everyone I see, every single soul on this earth, represents a mom who didn’t sleep for a few months.  A mom who went through all that I’m going through right now.  While it’s nothing compared to so many real hardships and sacrifices so many are required to make, it is universal.  Yes there are those freakishly perfect babies who sleep 6 hours stretches starting week one (do they really exist?) but for the most part, everyone you see started off their life sucking (literally) the life and sleep out of their mom.

That’s a motherload of sacrifice. 

I think it’s pretty amazing.

Ok, on to other things……

this too shall pass

It’s always around this time (three-four weeks post partum) that I start to get irrational, overly tired, obsessed with sleep and worried that my life is over.  I start to want to control something….anything really….when I get to sleep or eat or shower or think. 

It’s at this point that books and websites are dangerous…..I start to look for answers, ways to regain some normality, some semblance of order and control.  I vowed this time around that I was going to be one of those moms who just trusts her gut, takes things a day at a time, not getting obsessed or worried about what she’s doing , what her baby’s doing and how it was going to affect the future.

But, despite my best attempts, I caved. 

Here’s my google history from the past week (the searches occurring on my iPhone during the wee hours of the morning while I’m up nursing and desperate for some kind of solution). 

• why does baby spit up
• infant probiotics for colic
• gerd
• fenugreek uses breastfeeding
• how long can I store breast milk
• prevent air intake while nursing
• how to get a newborn to sleep longer
• can latch affect air intake while nursing
• breastfeeding problems spitting up
• forceful let down
• post partum bleeding
• how to burp a baby
• how to wash g diapers
• when will a baby start smiling
• foods to avoid while breastfeeding
• infant allergy to dairy
• newborn growth spurts

In addition to nursing and the rocking and the burping and searching the internet for answers, I spend my nights analyzing what we’ve done that day that has made the night either good or bad.  Did I drink too much milk?  Did he get enough stimulation or too much?  Does he do better swaddled or with his hands free so he can suck?  Is sleeping in the car seat the trick?  Is he too hot or too cold?  Should I try just cuddling with him and see if we can get some sleep that way?  Will that just make me sweaty and creaked from sleeping so carefully with him by my side?

And then every once in a while the worst happens…..my baby drifts into a deep sleep, but all the thoughts scrambling in my head leave me with insomnia.  To be awake at night while your newborn is sleeping feels like a crime.

I think you could safely say I’m trying to control things just a bit.

Thankfully my mother-in-law has been here through these obsessive days of mine.  Aside from working her little tail off and being unbelievably helpful with everything, she is wise and a therapist and so good at seeing the big picture and helping me to see things more clearly.  She keeps reminding me of some really important things:

• Babies are fussy, gassy, unpredictable and hard for at least the first 6 weeks.  Like Scott Peck says: “life is hard, once you accept that fact it gets much easier.”  (Or something like that….not enough energy to look up the real quote.)
• The only thing predictable about the first few months is that everything is unpredictable.
• You can search everywhere for solutions to newborn problems.  If you think you’ve found one, the chances of it working are about 15% and the chances of it working over and over are about nil.
• Lower your expectations. Give up control.  Stop thinking.
• Take everything one day at a time, one feeding at a time, one minute at a time. 
• This will pass.  I will sleep through the night again. Life will return to normal.  And it will come all too soon.

starting a life

As you can probably tell from the posts this month on the blog….I am a birth junkie.  I love giving birth.  I love the pain and intensity of it, I love how real everything is, how alive you feel.  I love the challenge of it, the preparation, the connection with other women…..you get the idea, don’t want to be too redundant here. 

My little secret that I haven’t fessed up to is that one of the reasons I’m sure I like birth so much is that I get a lot of positive attention for the work I’m doing as I go into and through labor.  There’s glory there, everyone showering me with praises, telling me what an awesome job I’m doing, how strong I am, how capable my body is….I’m even telling myself these things over and over again.   Everyone listens to me and is focused on me and I get to act however I want and say whatever I want.  I’m surrounded by people who are forgiving of anything I do, accepting me even if I’m not composed or kind, encouraging me, cheering me on.  I am queen. 

And then, after a few days coasting on the highs of all that birthing glory and drinking in the beauty of new life, reality sets in.  My body is empty and exhausted (and un-showered, sweaty, stinky, engorged and leaking).   My brain has turned to mush.  My emotions are a wreck.  I’m cranky and unkind and my patience is nearly non-existent.  And I start complaining and wallowing.  

I never feel prepared for this part.   Sure, toward the end of pregnancy I remind myself it’s going to happen and going to be hard.  But I’m always a bit shell-shocked by the reality of it all. 

I have a great post partum team, my mom, Jeff, Jeff’s mom, great friends who are helping on every front.  But, in the middle of the night when I’m up with a gassy baby, so tired that I can hardly lift up the little guy, no one is sitting by my side, holding me hand and telling me how totally awesome I am.  During the day my kids aren’t standing around me in awe at how I’m handling the pain of those first few seconds of nursing, telling me how great I’m doing.   And I’m certainly not telling myself many positive things (I’m mostly feeling pretty sorry for myself and pretty lame that I can’t keep everything together).   I don’t feel much glory in the work I’m doing.  I mostly feel, well, empty and exhausted. 

Sometimes exhaustion brings me my best thoughts and this is the one I had the other night as I was up nursing:  post partum work is every bit as hard and demanding as childbirth, and it’s also just as important and stretching and amazing…….and I need to treat it that way.  Somewhere in my journey through motherhood I’ve decided to revere childbirth.  I need to attach the same importance and glory and respect to the work I’m doing right now.  I need to recognize what this challenge is doing to me….how it’s connecting me to my baby, how it’s making me stronger, more resilient.  How it’s stretching me and connecting me to mothers all over the world.  How it is giving me experience.  Sure, I’m sacrificing a lot right now….but, holy cow…..I’m helping a new little soul start off a life.  I’m helping him understand his body and the world and how the two connect.  My face and voice and chest and his gastrointestinal tract are his entire universe right now.   And this little soul, fresh from god is totally reliant on me to navigate this new territory.

Grace.  Through a lot of preparation, education, mental exertion and some really lucky good genetics I feel like I’ve figured out the path for me to graceful childbirth.  I want to be able to bring the same grace to the labor I’m doing right now.  Mostly I think that means I need to suck it up, stop seeking all that glory.  Accept that things are going to be hard and sleepless and squalid.  I’m going to smell like spit up and have a nice little mommy gut and big bags under my eyes for a while.  And my kids are going to watch TV.  But what I’m doing is pretty amazing.  The sacrifice is small when you look beyond it to what I’m actually doing.    I’m starting off a life. 

she's too cute for us

Although I like to pretend my not getting anything done around the house is due to the demands of a newborn, in reality, a large part of it is due to the fact that I am addicted to this little girl. She draws me in (like Tetris used to way back when) and all I want to do is sit for hours and try to get her to smile and coo at me.

For some reason, while I'm engaging with Emmeline I tell her over and over again that she's "too cute for us." And I ask her "what are we going to do with you? You are TOO cute!." Hazel's little four year old brain takes this question quite literally......and has come up with all kinds of things that we should do with our baby who is too cute. Mostly she wants to put her back in my tummy or eat her up and has come up with all kinds of ways to do that (make her into pot roast, make her into soup, mix her into cookies)....but other times (like yesterday) she decided that we should sell her or --gasp--throw her in the garbage (yikes!). How should I interpret this? I know she loves Emmeline....but I'm also sure she'd be pleased as punch if that baby could magically be put back in my belly for a while.

This is Hazel making Emmeline into a tasty roast beef dinner, served rare with a side of binkie and slinky compote. Hazel informed me that when Emmeline pops the binkie out and starts crying that means she's done and ready to eat. Yum!

Thank goodness for good friends and an amazing house husband

We made it through the first week people! Man, I had forgotten how hard that first week can be.....there are some not so magical parts: rocks attached to your chest, a baby sucking on you all the time, no sleep, your body feeling like your insides are going to fall out, hormones.

I'm so grateful for all the people who stepped in this week to make possible for me to enjoy the good and the bad. My mom, who is "stuck"working with my dad in Vietnam and Singapore is especially grateful for all the help I've had (she's the kind of mom who's heart hurts to think of her daughter with a new baby and no mom around.)

This week I've felt so showered with concern and help and support. People have brought amazing food, and gifts and have taken the kids when we needed it most. Our dear friend RS even took them overnight and showed them the time of their lives.

Seriously, can you believe that she took them to all these fun places? And fed them a real meal with spinach and popovers and chicken cutlets? With six kids in tow? Serious superwoman.
That's just want they needed....and it was so nice for me and Jeff to just have little E....it was like she was our first baby, so peaceful and calm around here.

And, I have to say, Jeff has really been amazing this week. He has taken care of everything in the house and sadly done it all much better than I do it on a regular basis. I wish Social Work or photography would support our family better cause I think Jeff makes a pretty darn good and productive House Husband. He is so nurturing to our kids (they're having the time of their lives eating all Daddy food and doing fixer guy things with him) and so good at getting little loose ends on the house tied up with any spare time. I have been super impressed. He hasn't even watched tv all week. Amazing.
While our kids were off with RS he went and picked up a bed off of craigslist so that Hazel wouldn't have to sleep on the floor in Charlie's room anymore. The kids were ecstatic when they came home to find their new room set up. They LOVE it and something about being on different levels makes it much more difficult for them to keep each other up at night.

And, with the help of an awesome cabinet maker Steve (RS helped us find him too....what a great friend!) Jeff has finished our island and we're just waiting for the counter top. Oh, I'm a happy lady.

And now my dear Sister has arrived. And then my mom comes next week. We're going to make it! What on earth do people do without this kind of support? It makes me want to reach out to all new moms everywhere.

The world is good place with so many good people. Thank you everyone.

a camera in my brain would be nice

I so badly want to capture all the little expressions and movements and sounds this little ball on my shoulder makes but I can't tear myself away from her to go through the hassle of getting the camera out. Look at how tiny she is! Her whole body fits in a little softly breathing, sweet smelling ball on my shoulder.

Luckily Shawni will be here in a few hours.....she does have a camera permanently attached to her.

Speaking of Shawni, I've been trying my darnedest to pretend I'm her this past week. She loves newborns more than anyone I know and she savors every second of them. I've always said that the newborn phase isn't my favorite (that's the way we politely say "I hate" in our family). With the past two I've gotten so hormonally crazed about making them eat and sleep at the right time that it's hard to just enjoy. I remember calling Shawni up when she had just had her new little one and mine was about a year to reassure her that these first few weeks would pass and that before she knew it the baby would be bigger and be sleeping through the night. I was shocked that this comment didn't reassure her at all, but made her cry. "I LOVE getting up in the night with this little baby! It's the only time I have her all to myself!" She told me that earlier that day the little cord stump had fallen off and it made her cry to realize that she's growing up that fast.

So, this time around, I'm pretending I'm Shawni....and I have to say, it is working. Of course, she's only 5 days old and the real test will come in a week when I'm totally sleep deprived. But for now, I'm really enjoying those quiet moments at night when I can have this heavenly baby all to myself.

And, when I opened up her blanket this morning to find that the cord stump had fallen off my eyes did get a little teary.