I went back to work this week. In some ways, it went fantastic: I wasn't late to work any day, pumping went great, I'm really happy with the day care arrangement we all worked out. In other ways, it didn't: It looks like I may have to use bottles even on days I telework because Jesse still likes cluster feeding at the breast, and that just doesn't work when I'm working; I found myself distracted by habits I'd gotten into while on leave that can't continue while I'm working (oh hai @moshermama twitter stream); and getting back into the groove of a job I used to do seamlessly is proving to be paved with all manner of speed bumps that didn't used to apply to me.
Jesse shocked me by sleeping through the night for the first time Sunday night, going down about 10:30 and waking up about 5:30. I was so expecting the 2-3 feeding that I was shocked when I found that I had slept nearly til the alarm, which was going off at 6. He's doing this regularly, too, although Thursday and Friday he enacted some weird timeshift and woke us up at 4:30 both mornings. Ugh.
He doesn't have his checkup until next week, but I think he weighs about 13 pounds already. Size 3 months is a wash; I'm glad they lasted 2, honestly.
Ok, that's the Jesse update. Next up is another of my birth rant posts!
Showing posts with label Motherhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Motherhood. Show all posts
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Thursday, November 26, 2009
The first few nights
When we moved to the mother-baby unit after Jesse's birth, I discovered that I had a psychotic bed. As I'd lie in it, various compartments would inflate and deflate, and I joked that it was alive and breathing. Dean immediately conked out on the couch, and I set up my computer to start sending out notifications to folks while getting the hang of breastfeeding and swaddling. It quickly became apparent that Jesse didn't like the hospital bassinet, and I didn't either -- they were clearly set up for standing up care by nurses rather than bedside care by moms, and I had to get out of the psychotic bed to lift him out of the bassinet, then clamber back into the psychotic bed, which would then heave and sigh and readjust to the change in weight. Jesse took to breastfeeding pretty easily, all things considered, but showed (and still shows) a strong preference for my left side.
I couldn't sleep, though. I had an incredible amount of adrenaline coursing through my system. So I watched the baby, transfixed, in awe. In fact, at 1:30 or so I sent my first tweets out, and one of the comments I made was "And I just cannot get over how beautiful this baby is. Seriously." Seriously.
But about 4 a.m., something weird happened. Jesse started making choking and retching noises and I freaked out. The nurse happened to walk in before I could hit the page nurse button, and she picked him up and started vigorously burping him, explaining that he was now clearing amniotic fluid from his tummy and it would need to be burped out. The stuff that he kicked out was a foul-smelling mix of colostrum and amniotic fluid. This continued for the next two hours, before he started a whining scream that carried down the hall. The nurse rushed in again, took his vitals, and discovered that he was running a mild fever. Off he was whisked to the nursery for monitoring, and there he treated everyone to a grand show of projectile vomiting amniotic fluid.
I was half panicked, but so exhausted that I collapsed into a fitful sleep for an hour or so, punctuated by my iPhone alarm to get Dean up so I could send him to get Elder Son off to school. At that time, we asked if we could see Jesse before Dean left, but apparently Jesse was getting labwork done and a checkup by the pediatrician. The nurses were more nonplussed that I was up and walking around the floor so easily. I was more nonplussed that we couldn't see our baby.
An hour later, I was summoned in to feed Jesse. He had stabilized considerably since the vomiting thing, and if he could feed without any reflux this time around they'd be satisfied that he was ok in spite of the mild fever. They offered me a chair in a room for privacy, and I realized, horrified, that I was in the circumcision room--with two immobilization stations that made me weep that I'd put my first son through this procedure. It struck me also that the chair I was in was the antithesis of a comfortable breastfeeding chair, and the boppy they gave me did nothing to improve my own comfort level. But Jesse did fine, and so he came back with me to my room.
When the lab results came back, he showed a higher than normal white blood cell count, and between that and the mild fever, the pediatrician was a little concerned. But he seemed to be "over the hump," as he put it, and when Dean got back we spent the day cuddling Jesse. But I wanted to leave. I'd passed through my postpartum checkups with flying colors, refusing Percocet for the cramps (though I did take a couple of Motrin) and peeing just fine. In fact, I was amazed at how little pain I was in, having had a second degree tear--with Elder Son, I'd had a second degree episiotomy, and had a hell of a time with basic elimination functions.
And the second 24 hours passed without much of a glitch aside from the fact that Jesse went on a crying jag about 3 a.m. And nothing I could do would appease him. I just wanted to go home, to take Jesse home, and realized, somewhat blankly, that I really could have, and should have, done all of this at home. My midwife had even suggested it to me at one point, and I was reluctant, thinking of the risk factors I had. But really, looking back on it, I was so aware of my body and my baby that I'd have known if any of those risks were coming into play.
But I don't have regrets, either. It took the experience to teach me that I could do this, and that I could help others do this.
At any rate, we were discharged late Friday morning. I couldn't wait to get my little boy home, to introduce him to his big brother, and to enjoy getting some rest in a bed that didn't sigh every five minutes. After having a light lunch, I took Jesse upstairs, and we both slept-comfortably-for the first time in his life.
I couldn't sleep, though. I had an incredible amount of adrenaline coursing through my system. So I watched the baby, transfixed, in awe. In fact, at 1:30 or so I sent my first tweets out, and one of the comments I made was "And I just cannot get over how beautiful this baby is. Seriously." Seriously.
But about 4 a.m., something weird happened. Jesse started making choking and retching noises and I freaked out. The nurse happened to walk in before I could hit the page nurse button, and she picked him up and started vigorously burping him, explaining that he was now clearing amniotic fluid from his tummy and it would need to be burped out. The stuff that he kicked out was a foul-smelling mix of colostrum and amniotic fluid. This continued for the next two hours, before he started a whining scream that carried down the hall. The nurse rushed in again, took his vitals, and discovered that he was running a mild fever. Off he was whisked to the nursery for monitoring, and there he treated everyone to a grand show of projectile vomiting amniotic fluid.
I was half panicked, but so exhausted that I collapsed into a fitful sleep for an hour or so, punctuated by my iPhone alarm to get Dean up so I could send him to get Elder Son off to school. At that time, we asked if we could see Jesse before Dean left, but apparently Jesse was getting labwork done and a checkup by the pediatrician. The nurses were more nonplussed that I was up and walking around the floor so easily. I was more nonplussed that we couldn't see our baby.
An hour later, I was summoned in to feed Jesse. He had stabilized considerably since the vomiting thing, and if he could feed without any reflux this time around they'd be satisfied that he was ok in spite of the mild fever. They offered me a chair in a room for privacy, and I realized, horrified, that I was in the circumcision room--with two immobilization stations that made me weep that I'd put my first son through this procedure. It struck me also that the chair I was in was the antithesis of a comfortable breastfeeding chair, and the boppy they gave me did nothing to improve my own comfort level. But Jesse did fine, and so he came back with me to my room.
When the lab results came back, he showed a higher than normal white blood cell count, and between that and the mild fever, the pediatrician was a little concerned. But he seemed to be "over the hump," as he put it, and when Dean got back we spent the day cuddling Jesse. But I wanted to leave. I'd passed through my postpartum checkups with flying colors, refusing Percocet for the cramps (though I did take a couple of Motrin) and peeing just fine. In fact, I was amazed at how little pain I was in, having had a second degree tear--with Elder Son, I'd had a second degree episiotomy, and had a hell of a time with basic elimination functions.
And the second 24 hours passed without much of a glitch aside from the fact that Jesse went on a crying jag about 3 a.m. And nothing I could do would appease him. I just wanted to go home, to take Jesse home, and realized, somewhat blankly, that I really could have, and should have, done all of this at home. My midwife had even suggested it to me at one point, and I was reluctant, thinking of the risk factors I had. But really, looking back on it, I was so aware of my body and my baby that I'd have known if any of those risks were coming into play.
But I don't have regrets, either. It took the experience to teach me that I could do this, and that I could help others do this.
At any rate, we were discharged late Friday morning. I couldn't wait to get my little boy home, to introduce him to his big brother, and to enjoy getting some rest in a bed that didn't sigh every five minutes. After having a light lunch, I took Jesse upstairs, and we both slept-comfortably-for the first time in his life.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Boys will be boys
I don't have strong feelings about circumcision. I don't know why, I feel like I _should_ have strong feelings about it, considering how noninterventionist I am about health care in the first place. But I guess it has something to do with the amount of intimate experience I have with uncut men--and that's practically none.
My husband, on the other hand, does feel quite strongly about not circumcising the baby. So begins my anxiety, it would seem, because I had a dream last night that one of my children had been circumcised without anesthetic at about the age of 10. Elder son is, already, but had enough left over that as a youth, during physicals, doctors would remind me that it wasn't too late to take care of that if we wanted to. Will that happen as the baby gets older? And what will I do when I can't retort "he already is circumcised, you nitwit?"
Meanwhile, a friend of mine with a newborn son was recently appalled when her pediatrician apparently retracted her son's foreskin at his first checkup. She (and I) were appalled; isn't that not supposed to be possible before the baby is about two?
What can I expect from this decision? We live in a rural area, and already the attention our decision seems to be getting makes me think we're making an unusual choice for this region. How can we explain to younger son why his dad and elder brother look different? How can I bring this topic up to Elder Son to get his opinions on it? (I'm considering asking my husband to talk to him about it, but that's still kind of a strange stepfather dynamic to ask for.)
I know there are people who see circumcision as mutilation. I, to be honest, am ambivalent; I see their point of view but also understand the point of view of those who see it as normal. But I find it odd that most people clamoring about this are women, and would honestly prefer to hear from men about it. Because that's the one perspective I don't have.
In the meantime, I'm going to follow my husband's wishes, but I just wish I could feel better about it, and wonder how much time I'll have to spend defending his decision and protecting the baby from those who would try and persuade me otherwise, if that makes any sense.
My husband, on the other hand, does feel quite strongly about not circumcising the baby. So begins my anxiety, it would seem, because I had a dream last night that one of my children had been circumcised without anesthetic at about the age of 10. Elder son is, already, but had enough left over that as a youth, during physicals, doctors would remind me that it wasn't too late to take care of that if we wanted to. Will that happen as the baby gets older? And what will I do when I can't retort "he already is circumcised, you nitwit?"
Meanwhile, a friend of mine with a newborn son was recently appalled when her pediatrician apparently retracted her son's foreskin at his first checkup. She (and I) were appalled; isn't that not supposed to be possible before the baby is about two?
What can I expect from this decision? We live in a rural area, and already the attention our decision seems to be getting makes me think we're making an unusual choice for this region. How can we explain to younger son why his dad and elder brother look different? How can I bring this topic up to Elder Son to get his opinions on it? (I'm considering asking my husband to talk to him about it, but that's still kind of a strange stepfather dynamic to ask for.)
I know there are people who see circumcision as mutilation. I, to be honest, am ambivalent; I see their point of view but also understand the point of view of those who see it as normal. But I find it odd that most people clamoring about this are women, and would honestly prefer to hear from men about it. Because that's the one perspective I don't have.
In the meantime, I'm going to follow my husband's wishes, but I just wish I could feel better about it, and wonder how much time I'll have to spend defending his decision and protecting the baby from those who would try and persuade me otherwise, if that makes any sense.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Working and breastfeeding
As Dean noted in his last post (are you catching the vibe that he prefers to blog about sustainable lifestyle topics?), we have acquired a vacuum food sealer, a dehydrator, and a freezer in recent days. But I have a confession about that freezer. It's so I can freeze breast milk.
My first son weaned himself at 8 months, and that was largely because I was working quite a bit and had returned to school. I was devastated. Granted, we had started solid foods at this point, but I felt a tremendous amount of disappointment because I had wanted to nurse him for a full year. He just wasn't interested anymore, and I suspect it was because we'd started supplementing with formula: we didn't have a good system for storing breast milk, much less the means to afford a good pump. I remember being on the night shift at Hilltop House--I was a CNA back in those days--and having excruciating pain because Elder Son had refused the breast the evening before.
Now that I'm older and more well-established in my (non-health-care-related) career, I have a better shot at succeeding with this. My mother instilled in me a trust in my body to provide for my children; she breastfed us back when it wasn't encouraged at all. So even though I'm pretty sure I won't be able to cloth-diaper the kid the way I would if I were a stay-at-home-mom, I am reasonably sure that I will be able to do keep providing breast milk for son #2 for the full year and then some, if possible. I have a supportive work environment that includes a room for such things, and I'm working on the day care piece of it.
But the freezer eliminates the storage-space worry I'd been having. I like putting food by, and find that when I don't, I overbuy and watch things overspoil. So the freezer portion of my fridge is always packed. I started looking out for a supplemental freezer, preferably a small chest style, for under a hundred dollars. On Tuesday, I scored.
I dated a guy whose family was Mennonite for a year and a half some years back, and one of the best things I got out of that relationship was an appreciation for managing food storage. Buying a dozen ears of corn, for instance, when you're only eating two; cook the whole batch; slicing the kernels off the extra ears, and freezing them in quart-size freezer bags is a great way to never buy a bag of much-less-tasty commercial frozen corn, for instance.
Now I can pursue more of that, which will come in very handy as I make my own baby food as well. So you can see why sustainable living is an important topic in our family life, as people, and as parents. And as we shift out of pregnancy mode in a few months and into life with baby, we'll continue to share our little piece of how we're making the world better for our kids.
Speaking of which, I need to finish Elder Son's laundry....
My first son weaned himself at 8 months, and that was largely because I was working quite a bit and had returned to school. I was devastated. Granted, we had started solid foods at this point, but I felt a tremendous amount of disappointment because I had wanted to nurse him for a full year. He just wasn't interested anymore, and I suspect it was because we'd started supplementing with formula: we didn't have a good system for storing breast milk, much less the means to afford a good pump. I remember being on the night shift at Hilltop House--I was a CNA back in those days--and having excruciating pain because Elder Son had refused the breast the evening before.
Now that I'm older and more well-established in my (non-health-care-related) career, I have a better shot at succeeding with this. My mother instilled in me a trust in my body to provide for my children; she breastfed us back when it wasn't encouraged at all. So even though I'm pretty sure I won't be able to cloth-diaper the kid the way I would if I were a stay-at-home-mom, I am reasonably sure that I will be able to do keep providing breast milk for son #2 for the full year and then some, if possible. I have a supportive work environment that includes a room for such things, and I'm working on the day care piece of it.
But the freezer eliminates the storage-space worry I'd been having. I like putting food by, and find that when I don't, I overbuy and watch things overspoil. So the freezer portion of my fridge is always packed. I started looking out for a supplemental freezer, preferably a small chest style, for under a hundred dollars. On Tuesday, I scored.
I dated a guy whose family was Mennonite for a year and a half some years back, and one of the best things I got out of that relationship was an appreciation for managing food storage. Buying a dozen ears of corn, for instance, when you're only eating two; cook the whole batch; slicing the kernels off the extra ears, and freezing them in quart-size freezer bags is a great way to never buy a bag of much-less-tasty commercial frozen corn, for instance.
Now I can pursue more of that, which will come in very handy as I make my own baby food as well. So you can see why sustainable living is an important topic in our family life, as people, and as parents. And as we shift out of pregnancy mode in a few months and into life with baby, we'll continue to share our little piece of how we're making the world better for our kids.
Speaking of which, I need to finish Elder Son's laundry....
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