...just sneak in and post a cowardly Wordless Wednesday after not updating for over 2 months? The nerve. But seriously, the world has only just now stopped spinning fast enough for me to check in with the handful of you who still keep up with my sweetness. I'll try to play catch-up and let you know what we've been up to the past 8 weeks.
We moved into our new home on December 5th. It figures it was the first snow of the year that day, but we all survived and we're starting to get comfy. We've met the neighbors and they all have small children - 3 years old or younger. It's truly perfect for us. Although I've made my husband promise we will not move again for a VERY long time. As a matter of fact, I'd be happy staying here until my kid(s) put me in a retirement home. Just because I HATE moving THAT much.
Christmas was busy but fantastic. We hosted two family get-togethers at the new place and it went smashingly. I got a new Coach bag and wallet, a new coat and a Snuggie (woot!). DH got some gift cards, video games and some books. And Nate got plenty of toys that he dumped aside for the boxes they came in. I only wish the day had lasted longer. I feel like we just decorated our tree and now it is out next to the trash.
Nate is growing and thriving. I can hardly believe he'll be 18 months in just under 3 weeks. He looks less like a baby and more like a big boy everyday. He's still not much of a talker but he is becoming much more expressive so I think a vocabulary explosion may be around the corner. His newest words are "apple", "Grandmom", "dog", "more", "mine" (gotta love that one) and "night-night". Once, he even said "DJ Lance" when watching his favorite bizarro TV show, Yo Gabba Gabba. He can identify his ears and belly button. We're working on nose, mouth, eyes and other body parts. If I hand him a brush and tell him to brush his hair, he will follow my instructions. He can also clean his ears with a Q-Tip (with my assistance, of course) and brush his teeth. He's also starting to give kisses but he often turns away when I get close. Stinker. It's amazing how much he picks up, and how fast. Which is precisely why we now have to be extremely careful about unbecoming language. The last thing I want is for him to repeat sailor-speak after Mommy curses during Guitar Hero.
But, with the good comes the bad. The "terrible twos" have arrived a bit sooner than anticipated here at Chez Sticky. Nate has at least one major temper tantrum a day, usually after a well-deserved "N-O", involving throwing himself on the floor, flailing limbs and screaming at the top of his lungs. It's happened in public a couple of times, to the point where I've had to leave the premises. Yes, I was THAT mom. He has quite a temper and it can be rather. unpredictable. When we took a trip to visit Santa, he was a perfect angel waiting in line but flipped out at the sight of the round, jolly fellow. We did get one decent picture, in which he looks disgusted at our attempts to distract him with glorified dog toys. Just this past weekend, we attempted to get family portraits done but after a particularly horrid meltdown, we left on the brink of tears, empty-handed. As much as I hate how quickly time flies, I can say with certainty, I will NOT miss this stage. It's so hard because I feel like he is too young for a spanking or time out or other methods of behavior modification. So, I am unsure how to handle the situation. Most of the time, I just ignore him and walk away. He will usually come running back to me because he doesn't want to be alone, and most times, he will forget why he was so worked up in the first place. But I do feel chained to the house because of this difficulty. Thankfully, he is sleeping through the night consistently from 8pm to 7am so I can at least have some much-needed me-time.
One last thing...we're still dipping our toes in the water to TTC #2. Nate is still nursing twice a day (at naptime and bedtime), which I believe is interfering with my cycles. I'm only on PPAF #3 since August. Both cycles before the current one were anovulatory, so I'm not expecting much in the way of a surprise BFP. I'm considering calling my OB/GYN about a prescription for Clomid but it would mean weaning. As in the end of our nursing relationship. I just don't think Nate is ready to give it up completely yet. And I feel selfish for even thinking about forcibly weaning him just to try for another baby. So, basically, I'm undecided and I think a call to the doctor will at least give me some options to think about.
All in all, that's been our life the past few months. I've missed you all and plan to write more often in 2010. New Year's Resolution: regain the blogging mojo.
Showing posts with label sleep or lack thereof. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sleep or lack thereof. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Happy Blogoversary to Me
I've been blogging for almost 3 years but today marks 1 year since I made the transition from IF blogger to mommy blogger. In some ways, it feels like it's been forever. But yet it also feels as if it just kinda snuck up on me.
Have I really been a mom for 13+ months? Somebody pinch me.
Let's see...what have we been up to? Well, we took a much needed vacation to Norfolk/Virginia Beach, VA. It was Nate's first time at the beach and he celebrated by double-fisting sand by the bucketfuls. Not sure what food group that would count toward. Protein?
I'm amazed by how he develops each day. He can play pattycake, high/low five, dance, do "so big" and wave on command now and makes sure to perform his circus tricks anytime we're in public. He can even play ball, picking up a ball and throwing it to me. He hasn't quite gotten the hang of catching the ball but he will fetch it. LOL He's become a complete ham and makes everyone around him smile whether we're at the grocery store or grabbing a bite to eat. I just grin with pride as they comment how adorable he is. If they only knew how he acts at home, they might not think he's that cute *wink wink*
He's also growing more vocal everyday. But he's not really consistent. He's said "stinky", "sock", "block" and "bird" just in the last week. But after he says it once or twice or even three times, he stops and moves onto the next thing. It makes me second guess myself whether or not he actually said what he said. Apparently, he's inherited his daddy's ADD. That or I'm schizophrenic and my voices are playing tricks on me.
Sleeping through the night is back on track now that the bottom molars are through. Whew, that was rough. I'm not relaxing yet though because I know the top ones will be next. But I am enjoying the uninterrupted sleep in the meantime.
Weaning is at a standstill. We're still at 3-4 times a day, although while we were on vacation there were a few times we dropped down to two. We're doing what works for us and that's all that matters. I've ceased having expectations in this department or caring about what anyone else has to say about it, including some stupid doctor. As long as Nate and I are both happy, I will continue offering the breast. Who knows how long it will last but until he is ready to give up more feedings, I will continue on the current path. He will take just about any sippy cup these days so we are making progress there. He prefers water and milk to juice, which I am thrilled about. I'd like to avoid as much sugar in his diet as I can so he doesn't grow up to be a sugar junkie like his mama.
As for TTC #2, I never quite gathered the courage to pull out the thermometer. So, no charting this month for me. My first PPAF was super light but lasted 9 days. Very strange. We haven't been timing BD. We're just being very casual. Who knows when my fertile window is. Right now, I'm not too concerned. I just want to play the part of the naive chick for once. The one who does things spontaneously and not because its a certain day. The one who wouldn't know all the acronyms.
The one who doesn't know the pain that we know.
Have I really been a mom for 13+ months? Somebody pinch me.
Let's see...what have we been up to? Well, we took a much needed vacation to Norfolk/Virginia Beach, VA. It was Nate's first time at the beach and he celebrated by double-fisting sand by the bucketfuls. Not sure what food group that would count toward. Protein?
I'm amazed by how he develops each day. He can play pattycake, high/low five, dance, do "so big" and wave on command now and makes sure to perform his circus tricks anytime we're in public. He can even play ball, picking up a ball and throwing it to me. He hasn't quite gotten the hang of catching the ball but he will fetch it. LOL He's become a complete ham and makes everyone around him smile whether we're at the grocery store or grabbing a bite to eat. I just grin with pride as they comment how adorable he is. If they only knew how he acts at home, they might not think he's that cute *wink wink*
He's also growing more vocal everyday. But he's not really consistent. He's said "stinky", "sock", "block" and "bird" just in the last week. But after he says it once or twice or even three times, he stops and moves onto the next thing. It makes me second guess myself whether or not he actually said what he said. Apparently, he's inherited his daddy's ADD. That or I'm schizophrenic and my voices are playing tricks on me.
Sleeping through the night is back on track now that the bottom molars are through. Whew, that was rough. I'm not relaxing yet though because I know the top ones will be next. But I am enjoying the uninterrupted sleep in the meantime.
Weaning is at a standstill. We're still at 3-4 times a day, although while we were on vacation there were a few times we dropped down to two. We're doing what works for us and that's all that matters. I've ceased having expectations in this department or caring about what anyone else has to say about it, including some stupid doctor. As long as Nate and I are both happy, I will continue offering the breast. Who knows how long it will last but until he is ready to give up more feedings, I will continue on the current path. He will take just about any sippy cup these days so we are making progress there. He prefers water and milk to juice, which I am thrilled about. I'd like to avoid as much sugar in his diet as I can so he doesn't grow up to be a sugar junkie like his mama.
As for TTC #2, I never quite gathered the courage to pull out the thermometer. So, no charting this month for me. My first PPAF was super light but lasted 9 days. Very strange. We haven't been timing BD. We're just being very casual. Who knows when my fertile window is. Right now, I'm not too concerned. I just want to play the part of the naive chick for once. The one who does things spontaneously and not because its a certain day. The one who wouldn't know all the acronyms.
The one who doesn't know the pain that we know.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Molars and Monkey Wrenches
I don't know what's wrong with me lately but I'm having some serious writer's block. Nothing stupendous has happened since the big birthday bash so I'm struggling to find something interesting enough in our daily routine to share. I know if I look deep enough, I have so much to say yet the words escape me. I can't write a marginally entertaining post to save my life. But I will at least try to give an update on the minor happenings here so the cricket symphony will fade.
We've been taking advantage of the remaining summer days by swimming and playing. I think Nate has gills hidden somewhere on his body. He's such a little fish. He adores the pool, splashing in the water and kicking his feet like a frog. If we're not at the pool, we're out in the backyard playing in the water table or his new toddler playhouse we scored for $30 from a neighbor. At least for as long as the heat is tolerable. Just keeping busy so I don't get stir crazy indoors all day.
Weaning is going slowly but surely. Today, I was actually able to get Nate to drink 8 oz. of water out of his sippy. That is a small miracle since I could only get him to take several sips for the past month. We've fully eliminated night feedings and are down to 4 nursing sessions a day. Some days, we have even gotten down to 3. It's sad but liberating at the same time. I've happily been a 24-7 buffet for over a year but it does feel strangely good to get a glimpse of what it's like to have my body all back to myself. As conflicted as I am about starting this process, for once, it is starting to feel like the right decision. I'm sure I'll be more devastated as we get closer to the ultimate end. But for now, I'm okay with it.
It seems teeth #9 and #10 will be making their apperance anyday now. I can see the white tips emerging from the gum and they are thisclose to breaking through. These first-year molars are much more of a beast than the previous eight. Nate cut those like a champ. You would hardly notice he was teething at all. In comparison, these suckers are huge and judging from the size of the lumps on his gums, quite painful. He's been drooling and crying and clinging to me much more than usual, begging for me to relieve him of the agony. We've been alternating the Hyland's and Motrin daily and that has helped us to keep the ratio of smiles to tears out of the red.
As a result of the emerging teeth, his already meager diet has dwindled down even more. Today, his diet consisted of a fistful of Cheerios, a handful of Cheez-its, a single green bean, and 4 oz. of banana berry puree. It's so frustrating when I go through the trouble of making meals, including every color of the rainbow, for him to toss it aside without even taking a bite. He'll clench his lips and turn his head so I can't even spoon feed him. I try to be patient but there are days - like today - where it takes its toll on me. The world of toddler nutrition (if such a thing exists) is not so welcoming.
Mealtime has obviously been a hassle but one thing is going smoothly is sleep. Nate has been sleeping 6-8 hour stretches just about every night. Once, there was a 9-hour stretch. And boy oh boy, it feels good! It makes you realize how sleep deprived you really were. There have been a few minor setbacks with the teething but I still have to give credit where credit is due. I *might* even venture to say he is officially "sleeping through the night" these days. And it only took a year! My little guy, the late-blooming insomniac.
And if I can politely shift the focus over to moi, I'm sad to report that I've gained 5 lbs. over the past month. Yes, I'm wearing my pouty face as the scale mocks me. I'm sure it has something to do with all the leftovers from the party as well as the weaning. I've never really had to watch what I ate before but I guess my metabolism had to slow down eventually. No more late night rendezvous with Chips Ahoy or Ben & Jerry. Bummer.
Nate and I can agree on one thing. Getting older is rough.
We've been taking advantage of the remaining summer days by swimming and playing. I think Nate has gills hidden somewhere on his body. He's such a little fish. He adores the pool, splashing in the water and kicking his feet like a frog. If we're not at the pool, we're out in the backyard playing in the water table or his new toddler playhouse we scored for $30 from a neighbor. At least for as long as the heat is tolerable. Just keeping busy so I don't get stir crazy indoors all day.
Weaning is going slowly but surely. Today, I was actually able to get Nate to drink 8 oz. of water out of his sippy. That is a small miracle since I could only get him to take several sips for the past month. We've fully eliminated night feedings and are down to 4 nursing sessions a day. Some days, we have even gotten down to 3. It's sad but liberating at the same time. I've happily been a 24-7 buffet for over a year but it does feel strangely good to get a glimpse of what it's like to have my body all back to myself. As conflicted as I am about starting this process, for once, it is starting to feel like the right decision. I'm sure I'll be more devastated as we get closer to the ultimate end. But for now, I'm okay with it.
It seems teeth #9 and #10 will be making their apperance anyday now. I can see the white tips emerging from the gum and they are thisclose to breaking through. These first-year molars are much more of a beast than the previous eight. Nate cut those like a champ. You would hardly notice he was teething at all. In comparison, these suckers are huge and judging from the size of the lumps on his gums, quite painful. He's been drooling and crying and clinging to me much more than usual, begging for me to relieve him of the agony. We've been alternating the Hyland's and Motrin daily and that has helped us to keep the ratio of smiles to tears out of the red.
As a result of the emerging teeth, his already meager diet has dwindled down even more. Today, his diet consisted of a fistful of Cheerios, a handful of Cheez-its, a single green bean, and 4 oz. of banana berry puree. It's so frustrating when I go through the trouble of making meals, including every color of the rainbow, for him to toss it aside without even taking a bite. He'll clench his lips and turn his head so I can't even spoon feed him. I try to be patient but there are days - like today - where it takes its toll on me. The world of toddler nutrition (if such a thing exists) is not so welcoming.
Mealtime has obviously been a hassle but one thing is going smoothly is sleep. Nate has been sleeping 6-8 hour stretches just about every night. Once, there was a 9-hour stretch. And boy oh boy, it feels good! It makes you realize how sleep deprived you really were. There have been a few minor setbacks with the teething but I still have to give credit where credit is due. I *might* even venture to say he is officially "sleeping through the night" these days. And it only took a year! My little guy, the late-blooming insomniac.
And if I can politely shift the focus over to moi, I'm sad to report that I've gained 5 lbs. over the past month. Yes, I'm wearing my pouty face as the scale mocks me. I'm sure it has something to do with all the leftovers from the party as well as the weaning. I've never really had to watch what I ate before but I guess my metabolism had to slow down eventually. No more late night rendezvous with Chips Ahoy or Ben & Jerry. Bummer.
Nate and I can agree on one thing. Getting older is rough.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Can We Do It? Yes, We Can!
Thank you all for your supportive comments on my last post. Even though I've been at this parenting thing for over a year now, there are times when you feel like an expert and others where you feel like a novice. After that appointment, I certainly fell into the latter category. But as you all suggested, I have been following my instincts and have been better off physically and mentally as a result.
After a spontaneous trip to VA to spend some quality time with my sister-in-law and the niece and nephews, I feel refreshed. We will get through this somehow, someway. Call me a linebacker 'cause I'm ready to tackle anything that lies ahead.
We're still introducing more table foods to Nate. He is a carb maniac so we struggle getting the proper amounts of fruits and veggies into his diet. Meats are hit or miss as well. I realize Atkins is so five years ago but can we have a resurgence, pretty please? I am continuing to offer him colorful meals to ensure a variety of vitamins, with the hopes that at least some of it will be ingested. We're still at 4 nursing sessions per day but for now, I am content with that. It's progress from the 5-6 sessions we had just a month ago. I'm gently phasing out the "baby food" although I still have some in reserve, just in case we have a particularly bad day. I can always count on my 'ole friend S.P. (Sweet Potato) to bail me out of a jam.
On the sippy front, DING DING DING! I *think* we may have found a winner. The Munchkin Mighty Grip cup has been working quite well the past few days. Perhaps it's because there are no handles or the spout is especially soft but Nate will voluntarily drink out of this one. He has some trouble tipping it but that is to be expected. It's a skill to be acquired in time.
And how could I forget...we've hit a MAJOR milestone this past week. For the past FOUR nights, Nate has slept through the night. Hear that?! It's the angels in heaven exclaiming Hallelujah! But its the truth. He's slept consistently from 9pm to 6am. If not more. Without waking. It started during our trip when he slept all night in his Pack 'n Play with nary a peep. Surely, this was a freak accident, I thought. The kids just wore him out since he's not used to that much rowdiness. The next night, the same thing. Again, I figured it was just sheer exhaustion. But it happened the next two nights at home sans kiddos. Please tell me its true. That there will be more divine sleep in my future. I had forgotten how good it feels to wake up somewhat energized. I am so proud of my little man. Despite all the changes we are implementing (i.e., torture we are performing on him), he is still sweet enough to give mama a much-needed break. ____________________________________________
I just remembered that I am long overdue on Nate's 12-month "can do" post. So without further ado, my not-so-little man can:
Run! Walking is old news. Of course, he has a Y chromosome. If you can go faster, why go slower?! We're having a bit of trouble transitioning to hard soled shoes, as they are much heavier, but after a bit more practice, I think he'll get the hang of it.
Walk down stairs assisted. It's the sweetest thing to hold one of his hands as he places his other hand on the wall and hesitantly steps down. He looks like such a big boy.
Imitate others' actions. If he sees me scoop a piece of food with a spoon, he will attempt to do the same. If he sees me bang a drum, he will bang on it too. And if I bounce a ball, he also tries to dribble it.
Throw a ball for a dog. Well, more like drop it. But he knows how to get my parents' dogs to play fetch. He'll also feed them from the table but that's another story.
Remember the steps to get things to operate. He knows to dunk his bath toy underwater and lift it up for the water to flow from the bottom. He knows to press his Elmo's tummy to get him to talk. And he knows just what buttons to press to turn on his radio. Ah, he's so smart.
Babble regularly. He is laughing and shrieking more and more each day. As a matter of fact, he's become quite the ham in front of the camera. I guess all those months of mamarazzi paid off.
Wave hi/goodbye much more consistently. He'll even do it without us prompting him now. That element of surprise makes it even more adorable.
Understands simple commands and tones of voice. All I have to give is a look or a grunt and he knows exactly what I'm saying. Not that he always obeys but he at least stops to take notice.
Be wary of strangers. I would call it "acquaintance anxiety". He draws into me and studies people that approach him intently. Sometimes, he plays bashful and buries his head in my neck. Sometimes, he smirks and flirts, playfully looking away. But if we spend enough time, he will eventually warm up to said person and interact more with them.
Climb and leap. He uses his ride-on toys as stepstools now and wants to jump or roll from them onto the floor. You can understand why my panic disorder is on overdrive right now. He also wants to climb onto the couch and leap off into my arms. That's my fearless daredevil. Not afraid of a thing.
Read books. He is now showing interest in his board books and will turn them page by page, examining the pictures and words. He turns them in different directions, analyzing the pages from all angles. Before confusing the corners as teething snacks. *sigh*
Give kisses. Not consistently but I do believe he knows what we are asking for when we prompt him. He's just a stinker and does it on his terms only. Typical macho man - not one for the PDA.
I could go on and on with the bragging rights but it's getting late so I'll put the brakes on tonight. Twelve months ago, his biggest skill was gripping my finger. I remember looking at him and wondering if I could ever love him more than that very moment. And to my surprise, yes. I could. And I do.
After a spontaneous trip to VA to spend some quality time with my sister-in-law and the niece and nephews, I feel refreshed. We will get through this somehow, someway. Call me a linebacker 'cause I'm ready to tackle anything that lies ahead.
We're still introducing more table foods to Nate. He is a carb maniac so we struggle getting the proper amounts of fruits and veggies into his diet. Meats are hit or miss as well. I realize Atkins is so five years ago but can we have a resurgence, pretty please? I am continuing to offer him colorful meals to ensure a variety of vitamins, with the hopes that at least some of it will be ingested. We're still at 4 nursing sessions per day but for now, I am content with that. It's progress from the 5-6 sessions we had just a month ago. I'm gently phasing out the "baby food" although I still have some in reserve, just in case we have a particularly bad day. I can always count on my 'ole friend S.P. (Sweet Potato) to bail me out of a jam.
On the sippy front, DING DING DING! I *think* we may have found a winner. The Munchkin Mighty Grip cup has been working quite well the past few days. Perhaps it's because there are no handles or the spout is especially soft but Nate will voluntarily drink out of this one. He has some trouble tipping it but that is to be expected. It's a skill to be acquired in time.
And how could I forget...we've hit a MAJOR milestone this past week. For the past FOUR nights, Nate has slept through the night. Hear that?! It's the angels in heaven exclaiming Hallelujah! But its the truth. He's slept consistently from 9pm to 6am. If not more. Without waking. It started during our trip when he slept all night in his Pack 'n Play with nary a peep. Surely, this was a freak accident, I thought. The kids just wore him out since he's not used to that much rowdiness. The next night, the same thing. Again, I figured it was just sheer exhaustion. But it happened the next two nights at home sans kiddos. Please tell me its true. That there will be more divine sleep in my future. I had forgotten how good it feels to wake up somewhat energized. I am so proud of my little man. Despite all the changes we are implementing (i.e., torture we are performing on him), he is still sweet enough to give mama a much-needed break. ____________________________________________
I just remembered that I am long overdue on Nate's 12-month "can do" post. So without further ado, my not-so-little man can:
Run! Walking is old news. Of course, he has a Y chromosome. If you can go faster, why go slower?! We're having a bit of trouble transitioning to hard soled shoes, as they are much heavier, but after a bit more practice, I think he'll get the hang of it.
Walk down stairs assisted. It's the sweetest thing to hold one of his hands as he places his other hand on the wall and hesitantly steps down. He looks like such a big boy.
Imitate others' actions. If he sees me scoop a piece of food with a spoon, he will attempt to do the same. If he sees me bang a drum, he will bang on it too. And if I bounce a ball, he also tries to dribble it.
Throw a ball for a dog. Well, more like drop it. But he knows how to get my parents' dogs to play fetch. He'll also feed them from the table but that's another story.
Remember the steps to get things to operate. He knows to dunk his bath toy underwater and lift it up for the water to flow from the bottom. He knows to press his Elmo's tummy to get him to talk. And he knows just what buttons to press to turn on his radio. Ah, he's so smart.
Babble regularly. He is laughing and shrieking more and more each day. As a matter of fact, he's become quite the ham in front of the camera. I guess all those months of mamarazzi paid off.
Wave hi/goodbye much more consistently. He'll even do it without us prompting him now. That element of surprise makes it even more adorable.
Understands simple commands and tones of voice. All I have to give is a look or a grunt and he knows exactly what I'm saying. Not that he always obeys but he at least stops to take notice.
Be wary of strangers. I would call it "acquaintance anxiety". He draws into me and studies people that approach him intently. Sometimes, he plays bashful and buries his head in my neck. Sometimes, he smirks and flirts, playfully looking away. But if we spend enough time, he will eventually warm up to said person and interact more with them.
Climb and leap. He uses his ride-on toys as stepstools now and wants to jump or roll from them onto the floor. You can understand why my panic disorder is on overdrive right now. He also wants to climb onto the couch and leap off into my arms. That's my fearless daredevil. Not afraid of a thing.
Read books. He is now showing interest in his board books and will turn them page by page, examining the pictures and words. He turns them in different directions, analyzing the pages from all angles. Before confusing the corners as teething snacks. *sigh*
Give kisses. Not consistently but I do believe he knows what we are asking for when we prompt him. He's just a stinker and does it on his terms only. Typical macho man - not one for the PDA.
I could go on and on with the bragging rights but it's getting late so I'll put the brakes on tonight. Twelve months ago, his biggest skill was gripping my finger. I remember looking at him and wondering if I could ever love him more than that very moment. And to my surprise, yes. I could. And I do.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Weaning Worries
I owe you all an apology for being so behind on my posting. Actually, my ISP should apologize since we've had some Internet connection issues but they appear to be resolved now. Back in business.
Nate had his 1-year appointment with his new pediatrician on Friday. He now weighs 21 lbs, 4 oz. and is 30.5 inches long. 25th and 75th percentiles respectively. Tall and thin. Male model-to-be, perhaps?
She examined him and issued him a clean bill of health. She asked about his verbal and physical capabilities and seemed satisfied with my answers. Everything was going perfectly.
Until I innocently inquired about weaning.
I explained to the doctor that Nate was still breastfeeding around 5x/day (every 2-3 hours) and I would like to begin the weaning process soon but I wasn't sure how to go about it. I described his picky choosy eating habits and illustrated my concern over eliminating this nourishment when it is currently filling the nutritional and caloric gaps. Also, since he hasn't fully adopted the sippy cup, how could I successfully replace breastmilk with whole milk? I explained that he is not consistently STTN and usually wakes to nurse once or twice a night – could this mean that he is not getting enough calories during the day? I wanted to nip all of these issues in the bud but didn't have a clue where to start. I was beyond overwhelmed.
Her advice: cut out breastfeeding entirely. Give him no other option and he'll have no choice but to eat solids and drink from a sippy. And whatever I do, don't give in. Children at this age have the “power to manipulate” and if I breastfeed him after a meal, he is just going to fight me at the next feed until he gets the breast. She told me I could start weaning as soon as I felt ready but the longer I waited, the harder it would be. Soon, breastmilk won't be enough nutritionally so she suggested I think about that when making my decision. Regarding night weaning, she said he is not STTN because I am instilling poor sleep habits. Not because he is not eating enough during the day. A 1-year old is fully capable of STTN for 10 hours or more without food. I should use the CIO method so that he learns to self-soothe and can put himself back to sleep when he wakes. I also shouldn't nurse and rock him to sleep initially or else I'll be doing it to a preschooler. I should put him down fully awake and let him cry if necessary.
I was aghast. Was she serious? I was hoping to wean gradually. Over time. Not change everything all at once without warning. That hardly seems like a healthy approach for Nate or for myself. More physically and emotionally traumatic than anything. Not to mention the backhanded irony of "do it when you're ready but it better be soon or else".
Does she think my son is a robot – a machine that should fall into place on the assembly line of social acceptability? It couldn't possibly be in his best interest to starve him until he succumbs to self-feeding. Okay, maybe he wouldn't starve per se, but it still seemed like cruel and unusual punishment to me. I wouldn't want to be treated in such a way. How could I do something like that to my own flesh and blood?
I nodded in disbelief as she made her way out the door. Nate shed pools of tears from his three vaccinations and I wanted to cry right alongside him. It seemed like I was doomed to fail before I even began. Why does everything have to be so black and white? Is there no gray area here? When it comes to breastfeeding, is it truly all or nothing?
I should have left the office thrilled to have a healthy toddler but instead, I left confused, angry and defeated. I felt strangely guilty – for what I'm not sure. For not starting to research this sooner? For not being more insistent with solid feeding? For allowing myself to become a human pacifier for my son when he needed comfort at night? I just felt ashamed, as if I was solely responsible for the sleep and feeding issues we are having.
Making the decision to wean is inevitable (either baby-led or mommy-led) but it is also an extremely emotional one. I was feeling guilty enough knowing that I would be the one to break the tie that has bonded us so tightly over this past year. I didn't need to be shot down with derision.
I never would have thought I'd say this a year ago but I see nothing wrong with extended breastfeeding. My plan was always to breastfeed for 6 months, possibly a year. But the best laid plans don't always come to fruition. Now that I have bonded with my son and we are in a routine, my plans have changed. My feelings have changed. I want to nurse Nate as long as it remains a positive experience for the both of us. I cherish that time together, especially at night before bed and first thing in the morning. When he looks up and smiles at me with milk running out of the sides of his teeny mouth. But I also want my body back. Is that too selfish? It's been over a year and I have yet to get PPAF. DH and I would like to begin TTC #2 later this year, but without AF, it will be unlikely. We have some time but I wanted to start now because, with Nate being so adverse to change, I know that it will probably take months for us to see progress.
I came home and put Nate down for his morning nap while I did some research online, looking for any tips I could find about weaning. Out of the roughly twenty sites I viewed, NOT ONE suggested a sudden, voluntary cold-turkey approach. Each site recommended a gradual, patient, gentle approach so as to avoid physical and emotional repercussions in the mother (such as plugged ducts, mastitis, depression from hormone fluctuations) as well as the obvious stress for the baby.
In all of my venting and my desperate search for solutions, a friend of mine referred me to a La Leche League coordinator. She lended me her supportive ears and shoulders and sent me some valuable links to help ease the transition. We came to the same conclusion.
This doctor is a QUACK with a capital Q. She certainly has never breastfed and has no business giving advice about such sensitive subject matter. I will possibly be choosing yet another pediatrician due to this experience. That, or I will request that I NEVER see that particular doctor again and will go out of my way to ensure Nate's well visits will be conducted by other pediatricians in the practice. The final verdict has yet to be made.
DH and I had a long talk about how we wanted to implement this change and came up with our own plan of action. We are working on eliminating night feeds as top priority. When Nate wakes during the night, DH is going in to comfort him. We will continue to Ferberize if need be, but so far (knock on wood) we haven't needed to go in more than twice in 20 minutes for him to soothe himself back to sleep. The past four nights, he has only been waking once during the night and goes back down fairly easily, sleeping in his crib until our usual wakeup time of 7am. That's 11-12 hours total. Not too shabby.
I am now offering 3-4 solid meals a day (plus snacks) and am offering a sippy with milk, juice or water with each meal. If he wants to nurse, I offer solids first. Sometimes he is satisfied with the solids and other times he wants to breastfeed afterward. Either way is okay with me. I am just letting him lead the way, as I encourage him to try different flavors and textures. I am confident that with consistency, he will eventually come around and accept these new noshes. I did hit up BRU and practically bought out their sippy cup department so hopefully, soon, we will find one that is up to Mr. Picky's standards.
As he becomes more accustomed to our new routine, I will attempt to remove midday nursing sessions. Last to go will be the first AM and last PM feeds. We'll take it a day at a time until we get there.
He has really surpassed my expectations these past several days. He is eating many more finger foods in addition to his purees. He still fights me sometimes - maybe I time it wrong and he's not really hungry or maybe he's just being obstinate - but as I offer more variety, I can see his interest is peaked. You should have seen his facial expression upon discovering kiwi for the first time. Whoa.
I think I'm still in a bit of denial that our breastfeeding relationship will soon come to an end. I can't imagine not sharing that with him anymore. The thought saddens me deeply. Being able to breastfeed for a year and counting is one of my biggest achievements to date. I am so proud to have been able to give my son this precious gift. But I know all good things must come to an end.
It's just too ironic that all of this happened just in time for World Breastfeeding Week, eh?
Nate had his 1-year appointment with his new pediatrician on Friday. He now weighs 21 lbs, 4 oz. and is 30.5 inches long. 25th and 75th percentiles respectively. Tall and thin. Male model-to-be, perhaps?
She examined him and issued him a clean bill of health. She asked about his verbal and physical capabilities and seemed satisfied with my answers. Everything was going perfectly.
Until I innocently inquired about weaning.
I explained to the doctor that Nate was still breastfeeding around 5x/day (every 2-3 hours) and I would like to begin the weaning process soon but I wasn't sure how to go about it. I described his picky choosy eating habits and illustrated my concern over eliminating this nourishment when it is currently filling the nutritional and caloric gaps. Also, since he hasn't fully adopted the sippy cup, how could I successfully replace breastmilk with whole milk? I explained that he is not consistently STTN and usually wakes to nurse once or twice a night – could this mean that he is not getting enough calories during the day? I wanted to nip all of these issues in the bud but didn't have a clue where to start. I was beyond overwhelmed.
Her advice: cut out breastfeeding entirely. Give him no other option and he'll have no choice but to eat solids and drink from a sippy. And whatever I do, don't give in. Children at this age have the “power to manipulate” and if I breastfeed him after a meal, he is just going to fight me at the next feed until he gets the breast. She told me I could start weaning as soon as I felt ready but the longer I waited, the harder it would be. Soon, breastmilk won't be enough nutritionally so she suggested I think about that when making my decision. Regarding night weaning, she said he is not STTN because I am instilling poor sleep habits. Not because he is not eating enough during the day. A 1-year old is fully capable of STTN for 10 hours or more without food. I should use the CIO method so that he learns to self-soothe and can put himself back to sleep when he wakes. I also shouldn't nurse and rock him to sleep initially or else I'll be doing it to a preschooler. I should put him down fully awake and let him cry if necessary.
I was aghast. Was she serious? I was hoping to wean gradually. Over time. Not change everything all at once without warning. That hardly seems like a healthy approach for Nate or for myself. More physically and emotionally traumatic than anything. Not to mention the backhanded irony of "do it when you're ready but it better be soon or else".
Does she think my son is a robot – a machine that should fall into place on the assembly line of social acceptability? It couldn't possibly be in his best interest to starve him until he succumbs to self-feeding. Okay, maybe he wouldn't starve per se, but it still seemed like cruel and unusual punishment to me. I wouldn't want to be treated in such a way. How could I do something like that to my own flesh and blood?
I nodded in disbelief as she made her way out the door. Nate shed pools of tears from his three vaccinations and I wanted to cry right alongside him. It seemed like I was doomed to fail before I even began. Why does everything have to be so black and white? Is there no gray area here? When it comes to breastfeeding, is it truly all or nothing?
I should have left the office thrilled to have a healthy toddler but instead, I left confused, angry and defeated. I felt strangely guilty – for what I'm not sure. For not starting to research this sooner? For not being more insistent with solid feeding? For allowing myself to become a human pacifier for my son when he needed comfort at night? I just felt ashamed, as if I was solely responsible for the sleep and feeding issues we are having.
Making the decision to wean is inevitable (either baby-led or mommy-led) but it is also an extremely emotional one. I was feeling guilty enough knowing that I would be the one to break the tie that has bonded us so tightly over this past year. I didn't need to be shot down with derision.
I never would have thought I'd say this a year ago but I see nothing wrong with extended breastfeeding. My plan was always to breastfeed for 6 months, possibly a year. But the best laid plans don't always come to fruition. Now that I have bonded with my son and we are in a routine, my plans have changed. My feelings have changed. I want to nurse Nate as long as it remains a positive experience for the both of us. I cherish that time together, especially at night before bed and first thing in the morning. When he looks up and smiles at me with milk running out of the sides of his teeny mouth. But I also want my body back. Is that too selfish? It's been over a year and I have yet to get PPAF. DH and I would like to begin TTC #2 later this year, but without AF, it will be unlikely. We have some time but I wanted to start now because, with Nate being so adverse to change, I know that it will probably take months for us to see progress.
I came home and put Nate down for his morning nap while I did some research online, looking for any tips I could find about weaning. Out of the roughly twenty sites I viewed, NOT ONE suggested a sudden, voluntary cold-turkey approach. Each site recommended a gradual, patient, gentle approach so as to avoid physical and emotional repercussions in the mother (such as plugged ducts, mastitis, depression from hormone fluctuations) as well as the obvious stress for the baby.
In all of my venting and my desperate search for solutions, a friend of mine referred me to a La Leche League coordinator. She lended me her supportive ears and shoulders and sent me some valuable links to help ease the transition. We came to the same conclusion.
This doctor is a QUACK with a capital Q. She certainly has never breastfed and has no business giving advice about such sensitive subject matter. I will possibly be choosing yet another pediatrician due to this experience. That, or I will request that I NEVER see that particular doctor again and will go out of my way to ensure Nate's well visits will be conducted by other pediatricians in the practice. The final verdict has yet to be made.
DH and I had a long talk about how we wanted to implement this change and came up with our own plan of action. We are working on eliminating night feeds as top priority. When Nate wakes during the night, DH is going in to comfort him. We will continue to Ferberize if need be, but so far (knock on wood) we haven't needed to go in more than twice in 20 minutes for him to soothe himself back to sleep. The past four nights, he has only been waking once during the night and goes back down fairly easily, sleeping in his crib until our usual wakeup time of 7am. That's 11-12 hours total. Not too shabby.
I am now offering 3-4 solid meals a day (plus snacks) and am offering a sippy with milk, juice or water with each meal. If he wants to nurse, I offer solids first. Sometimes he is satisfied with the solids and other times he wants to breastfeed afterward. Either way is okay with me. I am just letting him lead the way, as I encourage him to try different flavors and textures. I am confident that with consistency, he will eventually come around and accept these new noshes. I did hit up BRU and practically bought out their sippy cup department so hopefully, soon, we will find one that is up to Mr. Picky's standards.
As he becomes more accustomed to our new routine, I will attempt to remove midday nursing sessions. Last to go will be the first AM and last PM feeds. We'll take it a day at a time until we get there.
He has really surpassed my expectations these past several days. He is eating many more finger foods in addition to his purees. He still fights me sometimes - maybe I time it wrong and he's not really hungry or maybe he's just being obstinate - but as I offer more variety, I can see his interest is peaked. You should have seen his facial expression upon discovering kiwi for the first time. Whoa.
I think I'm still in a bit of denial that our breastfeeding relationship will soon come to an end. I can't imagine not sharing that with him anymore. The thought saddens me deeply. Being able to breastfeed for a year and counting is one of my biggest achievements to date. I am so proud to have been able to give my son this precious gift. But I know all good things must come to an end.
It's just too ironic that all of this happened just in time for World Breastfeeding Week, eh?
Monday, July 20, 2009
T Minus 5
5 days until partytime. Actually closer to 4 at this hour. And mama is stressed to the max.
I've been absorbed in cleaning the entire house top to bottom. Deep cleaning. We're talking white glove test kind of clean. I want the house to be pretty much immaculate in time for the big day. I am naturally a slob but I will get my ass in gear when I have guests. I guess I don't want the viewing public to see the way I really live.
I've been panicking over everything from the weather to the food to the seating. The forecasters were calling for scattered thunderstorms but it now reads a clear and sunny 85 degrees. But what if it changes again? What if it rains? Will we have enough room in the house for everyone? Will we have enough food?
At 40+ people having RSVP'd - with 11 kids - I'm concerned about it becoming a circus. Will we have enough activities to keep everyone entertained? Will I be able to mingle with everyone so the newcomers won't feel out of place? It's a party and the bottom line is I want it to be fun. But it's exhausting for me to scheme the outcome for every possible scenario.
I'm confident it will be a success and I will look back on it with fond memories. But I'll be happy when it's all over.
__________________________________________
As I predicted, STTN did not last. We were fortunate enough to get two nights of uninterrupted, unadulterated sleep. But I haven't quite figured out the surefire recipe for the suspension of consciousness. I've tried putting him down at the same exact time, dressing him in the same footed sleeper, same room temperature. But alas, what produces eight hours gives us four the next.
Perhaps by the time he's two, he'll have this down pat. Let's hope.
I've been absorbed in cleaning the entire house top to bottom. Deep cleaning. We're talking white glove test kind of clean. I want the house to be pretty much immaculate in time for the big day. I am naturally a slob but I will get my ass in gear when I have guests. I guess I don't want the viewing public to see the way I really live.
I've been panicking over everything from the weather to the food to the seating. The forecasters were calling for scattered thunderstorms but it now reads a clear and sunny 85 degrees. But what if it changes again? What if it rains? Will we have enough room in the house for everyone? Will we have enough food?
At 40+ people having RSVP'd - with 11 kids - I'm concerned about it becoming a circus. Will we have enough activities to keep everyone entertained? Will I be able to mingle with everyone so the newcomers won't feel out of place? It's a party and the bottom line is I want it to be fun. But it's exhausting for me to scheme the outcome for every possible scenario.
I'm confident it will be a success and I will look back on it with fond memories. But I'll be happy when it's all over.
__________________________________________
As I predicted, STTN did not last. We were fortunate enough to get two nights of uninterrupted, unadulterated sleep. But I haven't quite figured out the surefire recipe for the suspension of consciousness. I've tried putting him down at the same exact time, dressing him in the same footed sleeper, same room temperature. But alas, what produces eight hours gives us four the next.
Perhaps by the time he's two, he'll have this down pat. Let's hope.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Jinx
Pssst...I have something to tell you.
Why am I whispering, you ask? Because if I utter the words aloud, I am afraid it will never happen again. You might want to sit for this one.
Nate slept through the night last night.
Yes, my son - the chronically sleep-impaired - stayed down in his crib from 930pm to just shy of 6am. That would be 8+ hours of sleep, my friends. It only took 11.5 months to witness this phenomenon but it was indeed miraculous. When I awoke to see the time on the alarm clock, I about fainted. I had forgotten what it feels like to rest uninterrupted and wake up somewhat refreshed. For the first time in nearly a year, I didn't have to fight an inherent need for caffeine.
I'm not a very superstitious person by nature but in this case, I'm sure that by sharing this information, I just jinxed myself.
I don't have my hopes up that this is the start of a new trend. Don't get me wrong - that would be sweet. But if history has taught me anything, it's that we'll be back to wake-ups every 2 to 3 hours tonight. I'd rather find comfort in the fact that, contrary to popular belief, STTN really isn't just a myth. It does exist. And maybe one day, I will experience it again.
Why am I whispering, you ask? Because if I utter the words aloud, I am afraid it will never happen again. You might want to sit for this one.
Nate slept through the night last night.
Yes, my son - the chronically sleep-impaired - stayed down in his crib from 930pm to just shy of 6am. That would be 8+ hours of sleep, my friends. It only took 11.5 months to witness this phenomenon but it was indeed miraculous. When I awoke to see the time on the alarm clock, I about fainted. I had forgotten what it feels like to rest uninterrupted and wake up somewhat refreshed. For the first time in nearly a year, I didn't have to fight an inherent need for caffeine.
I'm not a very superstitious person by nature but in this case, I'm sure that by sharing this information, I just jinxed myself.
I don't have my hopes up that this is the start of a new trend. Don't get me wrong - that would be sweet. But if history has taught me anything, it's that we'll be back to wake-ups every 2 to 3 hours tonight. I'd rather find comfort in the fact that, contrary to popular belief, STTN really isn't just a myth. It does exist. And maybe one day, I will experience it again.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
The Last Month
Update: I'm still a bit shaken up from our experience on Thursday. I am trying to focus on the positives - Nate is no worse for the wear and is not acting out of the ordinary. Thank God. But the thought that my carelessness could have led to something grave is overwhelming. So much so that I've been tempted to take my anti-anxiety medication to take the edge off. The only thing that has stopped me is that it's not exactly safe for breastfeeding and I refuse to end our nursing relationship due to these circumstances.
I've been slightly traumatized by the whole ordeal. I feel fragile. I am not perfect, nor will I ever be. But somehow I feel like I ought to be. For Nate's sake. I am my harshest critic and the hardest person for me to forgive is often myself. I just need time to get over the guilt and I'm confident that with each passing day, happiness will prevail.
________________________________________________
Yesterday, Nate turned 11 months old. T minus 29 days until his big birthday. The supplies have been ordered and are en route to our address. Once those are received, I will send out the invitations, visit the bakery to order the cake(s) and finalize the menu. I have a few more decorations to purchase in the coming weeks and then it's just a matter of bringing the vision to life. My excitement is mounting as we grow closer to the big day. It goes without saying that I'm amazed by how much he has blossomed in such a short amount of time.
At 11 months, my little guy:
Walks all over the place - all by his lonesome! At this point, he prefers walking over crawling unless he is tired or lazy (like if he falls mid-walk and decides crawling is an easier method of transportation to his destination). I'd estimate we're at 75/25 ratio to walking and crawling. He can also crouch down to pick up a toy and stand back up to walk. All that jumping in his jumperoo has given him some seriously strong legs.
Is starting to wave bye-bye. Backwards, as if waving to himself. He's not consistent but I've seen him do it a few times when he thought he'd go under the radar. I guess he'd rather not go public just yet with this new skill.
Can say mama and dada to the correct parent. Dada still comes out more like "baba" which makes me second guess whether or not he associates the word with DH. But since he tends to say it when DH is around or to mimic what we say, I believe he really does. For some reason, he is having trouble enunciating "d" sounds. I'm not concerned yet but will talk to the pediatrician about it at his next visit. You know, just in case speech therapy is an order.
Can throw a temper tantrum fit for a 2-year old. Gone are the days of casually removing an object from his grasp. Something as simple as a piece of paper causes a gargantuan meltdown, complete with arching of the back, stomping and waterworks so marvelous I should charge people to view them. Seriously. This kind of acting is sure to garner an Academy Award.
Understands "no" and "come". Of course, comprehension does not equal obedience. Though he may stop and look at me when he hears the dreaded "n-word", my insubordinate son typically continues on with his destructive, dangerous or bothersome behavior until I physically remove him from the situation. Aforementioned temper tantrum sure to follow.
Can boogie. To the radio. To television theme songs. His moves resemble squatting exercises but it's ever so cute to watch. He can get his groove on to any beat but seems to dance mostly to hip-hop and pop. Oh, and his newly discovered favorite, Yo Gabba Gabba. (Am I the only one who feels like I'm tripping on acid when I watch that show?)
Is a picky eater. We are going through a bizarre food phase right now. He is refusing almost all purees, eating maybe 2-3 oz. at a sitting before putting his dukes up. But finger foods are hit or miss. Most end up thrown over the side of his highchair for the thrill of the plop or splatter. It's so hard to get anything in that belly of his besides Cheerios and breastmilk. I assume he will eat when he is hungry so I am just riding this out until it gets old. To him. It's already getting pretty old to me.
Is back to two naps per day. Hallelujah! After a rough week of limited naptime, and ergo cranky baby, I am ecstatic to report that we are back on track. I'm chalking it up to a growth spurt or perhaps teething. 1030am and 3pm are necessary downtimes in this house. Any deviation from this makes for an unhappy baby and Mommy.
Is still not sleeping through the night. Some nights we get 5+ hour stretches and other nights, only 2-3 hours. I am unsure of how to handle it but I think CIO may be involved, as much as I wish to avoid it. He is now trained to eat several times during the night - which I admit is my fault since I never reestablished sleep training when his reflux waned - but I'd like to try and cut back on the night feeds so he will eat more calories during the day. I'm okay with one, possibly two, night feeds but I know he is capable of sleeping through. We just have to figure out what method is best for all of us to get there.
I think that about sums it up. This is the last month I will have a "baby". In 29 days, I will have a "toddler". So I'm soaking up as much as I can.
ETA: Another "skill" I forgot to mention - opening and closing doors and cabinets. He's strategically figured out how to get into the pots and pans in the kitchen so he can bang them together and create a ruckus. He's also learned how to open the front door (when it's unlocked of course) so he can peep outside at the dogwalkers. With opening, he's also learned its opposite - closing. A few times on his poor appendages. I once was talking on the phone and heard whining coming from the bathroom. Sure enough, he had closed the door and shut himself inside. Quite amusing.
I've been slightly traumatized by the whole ordeal. I feel fragile. I am not perfect, nor will I ever be. But somehow I feel like I ought to be. For Nate's sake. I am my harshest critic and the hardest person for me to forgive is often myself. I just need time to get over the guilt and I'm confident that with each passing day, happiness will prevail.
________________________________________________
Yesterday, Nate turned 11 months old. T minus 29 days until his big birthday. The supplies have been ordered and are en route to our address. Once those are received, I will send out the invitations, visit the bakery to order the cake(s) and finalize the menu. I have a few more decorations to purchase in the coming weeks and then it's just a matter of bringing the vision to life. My excitement is mounting as we grow closer to the big day. It goes without saying that I'm amazed by how much he has blossomed in such a short amount of time.
At 11 months, my little guy:
Walks all over the place - all by his lonesome! At this point, he prefers walking over crawling unless he is tired or lazy (like if he falls mid-walk and decides crawling is an easier method of transportation to his destination). I'd estimate we're at 75/25 ratio to walking and crawling. He can also crouch down to pick up a toy and stand back up to walk. All that jumping in his jumperoo has given him some seriously strong legs.
Is starting to wave bye-bye. Backwards, as if waving to himself. He's not consistent but I've seen him do it a few times when he thought he'd go under the radar. I guess he'd rather not go public just yet with this new skill.
Can say mama and dada to the correct parent. Dada still comes out more like "baba" which makes me second guess whether or not he associates the word with DH. But since he tends to say it when DH is around or to mimic what we say, I believe he really does. For some reason, he is having trouble enunciating "d" sounds. I'm not concerned yet but will talk to the pediatrician about it at his next visit. You know, just in case speech therapy is an order.
Can throw a temper tantrum fit for a 2-year old. Gone are the days of casually removing an object from his grasp. Something as simple as a piece of paper causes a gargantuan meltdown, complete with arching of the back, stomping and waterworks so marvelous I should charge people to view them. Seriously. This kind of acting is sure to garner an Academy Award.
Understands "no" and "come". Of course, comprehension does not equal obedience. Though he may stop and look at me when he hears the dreaded "n-word", my insubordinate son typically continues on with his destructive, dangerous or bothersome behavior until I physically remove him from the situation. Aforementioned temper tantrum sure to follow.
Can boogie. To the radio. To television theme songs. His moves resemble squatting exercises but it's ever so cute to watch. He can get his groove on to any beat but seems to dance mostly to hip-hop and pop. Oh, and his newly discovered favorite, Yo Gabba Gabba. (Am I the only one who feels like I'm tripping on acid when I watch that show?)
Is a picky eater. We are going through a bizarre food phase right now. He is refusing almost all purees, eating maybe 2-3 oz. at a sitting before putting his dukes up. But finger foods are hit or miss. Most end up thrown over the side of his highchair for the thrill of the plop or splatter. It's so hard to get anything in that belly of his besides Cheerios and breastmilk. I assume he will eat when he is hungry so I am just riding this out until it gets old. To him. It's already getting pretty old to me.
Is back to two naps per day. Hallelujah! After a rough week of limited naptime, and ergo cranky baby, I am ecstatic to report that we are back on track. I'm chalking it up to a growth spurt or perhaps teething. 1030am and 3pm are necessary downtimes in this house. Any deviation from this makes for an unhappy baby and Mommy.
Is still not sleeping through the night. Some nights we get 5+ hour stretches and other nights, only 2-3 hours. I am unsure of how to handle it but I think CIO may be involved, as much as I wish to avoid it. He is now trained to eat several times during the night - which I admit is my fault since I never reestablished sleep training when his reflux waned - but I'd like to try and cut back on the night feeds so he will eat more calories during the day. I'm okay with one, possibly two, night feeds but I know he is capable of sleeping through. We just have to figure out what method is best for all of us to get there.
I think that about sums it up. This is the last month I will have a "baby". In 29 days, I will have a "toddler". So I'm soaking up as much as I can.
ETA: Another "skill" I forgot to mention - opening and closing doors and cabinets. He's strategically figured out how to get into the pots and pans in the kitchen so he can bang them together and create a ruckus. He's also learned how to open the front door (when it's unlocked of course) so he can peep outside at the dogwalkers. With opening, he's also learned its opposite - closing. A few times on his poor appendages. I once was talking on the phone and heard whining coming from the bathroom. Sure enough, he had closed the door and shut himself inside. Quite amusing.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Cinco De Mayo and Other Celebrations
Note: I started writing this post on 5/5 but I was embarrassingly lame and fell asleep midway through. Hence why I am not publishing until 5/6. What can I say? Mommy is exhausted. The college days of pulling all-nighters escape me. I feel old. But without further ado...
I'm celebrating Cinco de Mayo the "mommy way" tonight. Indulging in a strawberry daiquiri wine cooler and watching Bridget Jones' Diary on cable while the little man snoozes away in his crib and the hubby works. All alone. Some people may consider this mundane - I admit its no kegger - but to me, it is quite sensational. The 3.5% alcohol by volume isn't nearly enough for one to become inebriated but it does allow a breastfeeding mommy to feel like an autonomous adult without much guilt.
It's nights like tonight when I catch a glimpse of my former single, childless self. It's almost like seeing a childhood friend you've long grown apart from. She doesn't recognize me so I admire her from afar, thinking of the days I used to idolize her. And while I still have much love for her, I look around at my life now - toys scattered on the floor, laundry overflowing - and how I wouldn't trade in a thing.
________________________________________________
As if I need another reason to celebrate...
The past two nights have been a raving success in the sleep deprivation department with 5+ hour stretches. Last night, I put Nate down around 8pm. He woke at 2am and 6am. At 6am, I brought him back to bed with me where he slept until 730am. It was pure bliss. I didn't know what to do with myself.
I just hope I don't become spoiled should this be a new trend. A girl could get used to this thing called sleep.
________________________________________________
Nate had his 9-month appointment last week. He was 19 lbs, 13 oz and 28.5 inches long. I could have sworn he weighed more. Or perhaps my biceps are just reaching the peak of their strength, as my arms are giving out much faster than in days past. I was shocked he had dropped percentiles (now approximately 35th for weight and 50th for height) when he's always been in the upper 60-80th range. The pediatrician assured me that this decline in growth rate is common around this time and it is expected once they become so active. I asked her about his limited vocabulary and she seemed unconcerned. She said we would revisit the topic at 12 months but in the meantime, to continue storytime every night.
She examined his mouth, complete with now *eight* teeth. She asked if I had been brushing or wiping his teeth after meals, which I admittedly had not been doing. I was embarrased that I had no idea I should. She advised that I should at least wipe his teeth with a clean cloth after milk feeds, as those are common culprits for cavities. So, we went to the grocery store and picked up a baby toothbrush and some flouride-free, baby-safe toothpaste. I expected hysterics at the first introduction but the brush piqued his interest. He seemed to enjoy the taste of the gel. He even let out some chuckles as I glided over his gums.
After a clean bill of health, he got his long-awaited 6-month vaccinations. He did cry with each jab in his pudgy thigh but my tough little guy stuck it out and was back to smiling before we left the office. We will go back in a month or so to get the 9-month shots that will bring us up to date. ________________________________________________
Today, as I was cleaning up the living room, Nate was crawling on the floor and playing with some toys. I glanced down and noticed a dark spot on his skull. Initially, I thought it was a spot of dried blood but didn't recall him tumbling or bumping his noggin earlier. Being a blondie, it would be hard to miss something like that. Upon further inspection, I noticed it was not blood or dirt. It was a tick.
After a minor freak out, I conquered the eek factor and grabbed a credit card from my purse. I slid it along his hairline and the tick crawled onto the card. Whew, I exclaimed. It hadn't embedded itself yet. I ran the card into the bathroom and drowned it in the sink.
Crisis averted.
I'm celebrating Cinco de Mayo the "mommy way" tonight. Indulging in a strawberry daiquiri wine cooler and watching Bridget Jones' Diary on cable while the little man snoozes away in his crib and the hubby works. All alone. Some people may consider this mundane - I admit its no kegger - but to me, it is quite sensational. The 3.5% alcohol by volume isn't nearly enough for one to become inebriated but it does allow a breastfeeding mommy to feel like an autonomous adult without much guilt.
It's nights like tonight when I catch a glimpse of my former single, childless self. It's almost like seeing a childhood friend you've long grown apart from. She doesn't recognize me so I admire her from afar, thinking of the days I used to idolize her. And while I still have much love for her, I look around at my life now - toys scattered on the floor, laundry overflowing - and how I wouldn't trade in a thing.
________________________________________________
As if I need another reason to celebrate...
The past two nights have been a raving success in the sleep deprivation department with 5+ hour stretches. Last night, I put Nate down around 8pm. He woke at 2am and 6am. At 6am, I brought him back to bed with me where he slept until 730am. It was pure bliss. I didn't know what to do with myself.
I just hope I don't become spoiled should this be a new trend. A girl could get used to this thing called sleep.
________________________________________________
Nate had his 9-month appointment last week. He was 19 lbs, 13 oz and 28.5 inches long. I could have sworn he weighed more. Or perhaps my biceps are just reaching the peak of their strength, as my arms are giving out much faster than in days past. I was shocked he had dropped percentiles (now approximately 35th for weight and 50th for height) when he's always been in the upper 60-80th range. The pediatrician assured me that this decline in growth rate is common around this time and it is expected once they become so active. I asked her about his limited vocabulary and she seemed unconcerned. She said we would revisit the topic at 12 months but in the meantime, to continue storytime every night.
She examined his mouth, complete with now *eight* teeth. She asked if I had been brushing or wiping his teeth after meals, which I admittedly had not been doing. I was embarrased that I had no idea I should. She advised that I should at least wipe his teeth with a clean cloth after milk feeds, as those are common culprits for cavities. So, we went to the grocery store and picked up a baby toothbrush and some flouride-free, baby-safe toothpaste. I expected hysterics at the first introduction but the brush piqued his interest. He seemed to enjoy the taste of the gel. He even let out some chuckles as I glided over his gums.
After a clean bill of health, he got his long-awaited 6-month vaccinations. He did cry with each jab in his pudgy thigh but my tough little guy stuck it out and was back to smiling before we left the office. We will go back in a month or so to get the 9-month shots that will bring us up to date. ________________________________________________
Today, as I was cleaning up the living room, Nate was crawling on the floor and playing with some toys. I glanced down and noticed a dark spot on his skull. Initially, I thought it was a spot of dried blood but didn't recall him tumbling or bumping his noggin earlier. Being a blondie, it would be hard to miss something like that. Upon further inspection, I noticed it was not blood or dirt. It was a tick.
After a minor freak out, I conquered the eek factor and grabbed a credit card from my purse. I slid it along his hairline and the tick crawled onto the card. Whew, I exclaimed. It hadn't embedded itself yet. I ran the card into the bathroom and drowned it in the sink.
Crisis averted.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Domestic Engineering
After two and a half weeks, you'd think I'd start to get used to this SAHM thing. On the contrary; I'm still swimming in the river known as Denial.
I often feel like I'm on vacation and at any moment, I'm going to be yanked back into the harsh world of continuous deadlines, high-pressure projects and ever-increasing demands. I find myself aimlessly refreshing my email, simply out of habit. I've had about 15-20 hours worth of billable work since I've made the switch from full-time to freelance but the vast majority of my projects have simmered down. I just don't know what to do with myself now that the work stress has been all but eliminated. I'm so used to being balls-to-the-wall, can't-find-time-to-pee-or-eat, insanely busy that I am dumbfounded to find downtime exists. I can actually shower, brush my teeth and eat lunch daily. A fresh, homemade lunch - no fast food crapola. I can visit friends (during the week - gasp!) and have playdates. I don't have to cherry pick which tasks/activities I have time for. It's amazing. Even my IBS seems to have magically resolved itself, which leads me to believe it has been stress-related all along. You're welcome for the oversharing. *wink*
I love how I can design my own day and not feel limited by the clock. I can relax. Sure, chasing after a mobile 8.5 month old is not exactly a day at the spa but it is much more enriching than drilling out media plans.
I still have my "oh shit!" moments where I wonder if I'm doing the right thing and how it will affect our family in the long run. Can we honestly afford to sacrifice my entire income contribution? But I try not to let the pessimism bog me down. When I feel the negative thoughts brewing, I force myself to consider the good I'm doing for and all the ways I am still useful as a member of the family and community. It may sound like the kind of self-help visualization propaganda as seen on TV but it really does help take the edge off and help me to stay grounded.
I've seen Nate smile more in the past couple of weeks than I think I have in his entire lifespan. I get the distinct feeling that he feels much more content and secure to have me home with him 24/7. He hasn't been nearly as cranky as he used to be (aside from a bit of teething - nothing that Hyland's teething tablets couldn't handle). He's almost a different baby. That, or I'm just seeing a side of him that I haven't noticed before. This alone makes me question my decision less and less. The benefits are obvious.
I've been able to really focus on Nate and meeting his needs. Instead of working for unappreciative, undeserving clients, I can devote my time to being the best mom I can be for my son. I feel like we've bonded all over again.
I can do modified CIO at night without feeling guilty that he could be craving more personal interaction. Last night, I put him down at 730pm without a problem. He woke at 1030pm and I nursed him. He woke at midnight fussing but fell back asleep within a half an hour. I heard nary a peep from him until 3am, when I nursed him again. He slept until 730am when we both woke for the day. Total: 2 night wakings. Progress. All due to consistency. I've traded exhaustion for determination and it is paying off.
I can easily read his signs for naptime and ensure he gets his two essential naps a day. One in mid-morning and one in mid-afternoon. I can usually preempt the crankiness and put him in his swing after the first yawn, where he naps peacefully for 1-1.5 hours. Granted, the swing can just barely swing his heavy ass. But until nighttime sleep is under control, I will not be disturbing the nap routine.
I can allot more time to practicing with solids. Since the Great Sweet Potato Discovery of 2009, Nate will now eat two 2 oz. meals per day. A few times I've given an early morning meal but I only offer this if he seems dissatisfied after nursing on both sides. He generally gets 1/2 jar Stage 2 fruit for brunch and 1/2 jar Stage 2 veggie, meat or pasta in the evening along with a handful of puffs at each sitting. It's been a challenge and I still rely heavily on singing songs and making faces to get the job done. But ultimately, I'm just thrilled that he is open to the idea of swallowing more than breastmilk. Maybe - just maybe - I will be able to start weaning upon reaching my goal at one year. I was beginning to think I'd be breastfeeding until he was two. There is hope for us yet.
We have lots of playtime together and I rotate toys on a daily basis so he doesn't grow bored. I alternate between being the showman and the passive observer. I demonstrate but then allow him to follow suit. I watch him as he experiments and moves from one thing to the next. I can see the hamster wheel turning in his noggin as he tries to learn how to operate certain toys or to mimic my actions. He loves anything with lights and sounds but when my eardrums need a break from the repetitive refrains, there are also several simple toys that hold his attention.
I know I may get flamed for this but we also watch TV together. We aren't glued to the boob tube by any means. We enjoy the outdoors when the weather is nice and I certainly don't rely on it as a babysitter. But he loves the visual and audio combination so I'll turn on Nickelodeon, Disney or MPT to provide some background noise. Right now, his favorites are Dora the Explorer, Spongebob, Sesame Street (cutest thing - he smiles and laughs at loud whenever Elmo appears), and Backyardigans. I have to say that many of the shows nowadays have an element of adult entertainment so I'm not constantly searching for a sharp object to gouge my eyes out. My particular favorites are Back at the Barnyard, Olivia and iCarly. Yes, I probably should be watching soap operas and court shows but I admit it's nice to tap into my childish side now and again.
All in all, things appear to be working out well so far on the SAHM front. I am taking to it like a fish to water. Except the housework and cooking. Okay, so I'm no June Cleaver. I've never been great at managing more than dishwashing and laundry in a day. But I'm slowly improving in this department.
I knew all along my heart belonged at home with my son. The ability to surrender to this desire seems too good to be true.
I often feel like I'm on vacation and at any moment, I'm going to be yanked back into the harsh world of continuous deadlines, high-pressure projects and ever-increasing demands. I find myself aimlessly refreshing my email, simply out of habit. I've had about 15-20 hours worth of billable work since I've made the switch from full-time to freelance but the vast majority of my projects have simmered down. I just don't know what to do with myself now that the work stress has been all but eliminated. I'm so used to being balls-to-the-wall, can't-find-time-to-pee-or-eat, insanely busy that I am dumbfounded to find downtime exists. I can actually shower, brush my teeth and eat lunch daily. A fresh, homemade lunch - no fast food crapola. I can visit friends (during the week - gasp!) and have playdates. I don't have to cherry pick which tasks/activities I have time for. It's amazing. Even my IBS seems to have magically resolved itself, which leads me to believe it has been stress-related all along. You're welcome for the oversharing. *wink*
I love how I can design my own day and not feel limited by the clock. I can relax. Sure, chasing after a mobile 8.5 month old is not exactly a day at the spa but it is much more enriching than drilling out media plans.
I still have my "oh shit!" moments where I wonder if I'm doing the right thing and how it will affect our family in the long run. Can we honestly afford to sacrifice my entire income contribution? But I try not to let the pessimism bog me down. When I feel the negative thoughts brewing, I force myself to consider the good I'm doing for and all the ways I am still useful as a member of the family and community. It may sound like the kind of self-help visualization propaganda as seen on TV but it really does help take the edge off and help me to stay grounded.
I've seen Nate smile more in the past couple of weeks than I think I have in his entire lifespan. I get the distinct feeling that he feels much more content and secure to have me home with him 24/7. He hasn't been nearly as cranky as he used to be (aside from a bit of teething - nothing that Hyland's teething tablets couldn't handle). He's almost a different baby. That, or I'm just seeing a side of him that I haven't noticed before. This alone makes me question my decision less and less. The benefits are obvious.
I've been able to really focus on Nate and meeting his needs. Instead of working for unappreciative, undeserving clients, I can devote my time to being the best mom I can be for my son. I feel like we've bonded all over again.
I can do modified CIO at night without feeling guilty that he could be craving more personal interaction. Last night, I put him down at 730pm without a problem. He woke at 1030pm and I nursed him. He woke at midnight fussing but fell back asleep within a half an hour. I heard nary a peep from him until 3am, when I nursed him again. He slept until 730am when we both woke for the day. Total: 2 night wakings. Progress. All due to consistency. I've traded exhaustion for determination and it is paying off.
I can easily read his signs for naptime and ensure he gets his two essential naps a day. One in mid-morning and one in mid-afternoon. I can usually preempt the crankiness and put him in his swing after the first yawn, where he naps peacefully for 1-1.5 hours. Granted, the swing can just barely swing his heavy ass. But until nighttime sleep is under control, I will not be disturbing the nap routine.
I can allot more time to practicing with solids. Since the Great Sweet Potato Discovery of 2009, Nate will now eat two 2 oz. meals per day. A few times I've given an early morning meal but I only offer this if he seems dissatisfied after nursing on both sides. He generally gets 1/2 jar Stage 2 fruit for brunch and 1/2 jar Stage 2 veggie, meat or pasta in the evening along with a handful of puffs at each sitting. It's been a challenge and I still rely heavily on singing songs and making faces to get the job done. But ultimately, I'm just thrilled that he is open to the idea of swallowing more than breastmilk. Maybe - just maybe - I will be able to start weaning upon reaching my goal at one year. I was beginning to think I'd be breastfeeding until he was two. There is hope for us yet.
We have lots of playtime together and I rotate toys on a daily basis so he doesn't grow bored. I alternate between being the showman and the passive observer. I demonstrate but then allow him to follow suit. I watch him as he experiments and moves from one thing to the next. I can see the hamster wheel turning in his noggin as he tries to learn how to operate certain toys or to mimic my actions. He loves anything with lights and sounds but when my eardrums need a break from the repetitive refrains, there are also several simple toys that hold his attention.
I know I may get flamed for this but we also watch TV together. We aren't glued to the boob tube by any means. We enjoy the outdoors when the weather is nice and I certainly don't rely on it as a babysitter. But he loves the visual and audio combination so I'll turn on Nickelodeon, Disney or MPT to provide some background noise. Right now, his favorites are Dora the Explorer, Spongebob, Sesame Street (cutest thing - he smiles and laughs at loud whenever Elmo appears), and Backyardigans. I have to say that many of the shows nowadays have an element of adult entertainment so I'm not constantly searching for a sharp object to gouge my eyes out. My particular favorites are Back at the Barnyard, Olivia and iCarly. Yes, I probably should be watching soap operas and court shows but I admit it's nice to tap into my childish side now and again.
All in all, things appear to be working out well so far on the SAHM front. I am taking to it like a fish to water. Except the housework and cooking. Okay, so I'm no June Cleaver. I've never been great at managing more than dishwashing and laundry in a day. But I'm slowly improving in this department.
I knew all along my heart belonged at home with my son. The ability to surrender to this desire seems too good to be true.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Starting Over
All hail the CIO warrior.
Before our move, Nate's nighttime sleeping pattern was consistent. Far from perfect but predictable. Waking every 3 hours to nurse but he would conk right back out and we could transfer him back to the crib with little or no bellyaching. Naps were another story but we stuck with the old reliable swing with the hopes that once nighttime sleep was established, we could convert naptime to the crib.
With our change of address also came a change in sleep habits. A full-blown sleep regression emerged, the likes of which we had never seen before. Nate cut out his second afternoon nap, dropping from 3 naps per day down to 2. As for bedtime, he was now up every hour on the hour. And since laying on his back is a thing of the past, he could now dramatize his commands by standing up and banging on his crib rail like a bongo. If I thought I was exhausted before, I was sadly mistaken. I would fervently rock him back to sleep in the glider - he'd be out within minutes - but the moment I laid him in the crib, he would scream bloody murder. Shrill, deafening screams that would pierce your eardrums and make you beg for mercy. In my despondency, I did the unthinkable. I picked him up and brought him back to our bed. I sure looked fashionable, cloaked in failure.
This went on for about a month. We were back to square one with the cosleeping. All of our hard work with gradual extinction went down the drain. This was the only way we could all get enough sleep to be functional the following day. We were stuck in this vicious cycle.
On St. Patrick's Day, the same day I gave my two-week notice to my job, I was feeling brave. I somehow found the cajones to give the sleep training another try.
The first few nights were pure hell, as anticipated. Nate wailed for close to an hour (DH going in here and there to soothe) before finally sacking out and succumbing to the sandman. And even then, the peace would only last an hour or two and he was up to his antics again. Wash, rinse, repeat. I decided to reset my expectations. If I could get him to spend half the night in his crib, I would cosleep the remaining half of the night. It was a trade-off. But it worked. His stretches grew to two hours. Then three. We even got some 4-5 hour stretches in there. It wasn't my desired end result but I was pleased to progress to our penultimate goal.
Last night was the first night I decided to go for the gold: all night in the crib. No cosleeping. I was apprehensive but I felt like it was now or never.
He was fed solids at 6:30pm and we had bathtime around 7pm complete with some baby massage and lotion. I sang some nursery rhymes and read him some board books as he played with some toys. With the first eye rub cue, I turned out the lights and nursed him. He was asleep within 5 minutes. I transferred him to the crib where he tossed and turned a bit before his eyelids once again grew heavy. He slept soundly until 11:30pm. 4 hour stretch - not bad. I nursed him again - with both breasts - until he was drunk and drowsy. However, this time, the relocation did not go as smoothly. The fussing turned to crying, which in turn led to a temper tantrum fit for a toddler. I was at a loss. I used the same formula for success that I had utilized earlier that evening. What was so different this time? Was it just out of habit in that he expected to be brought to bed?
I held my own and did not give in. I kissed his forehead, patted his bum, wished him a good night and closed the door behind me as I made a swift exit. I retired to bed with DH, where we could hear his contention growing more intense. After 15 minutes, DH went in for soothing duty but it only amplified his cries. He wanted to be held. I knew that was all he wanted. And with every cough and sniffle between the fountain of tears, I wanted to rescue him. I wanted to cave. I longed for his warm little body next to me, safe and sound. I questioned my motives. Was I doing the right thing? Did I not feed him enough? Did I not give him enough personal attention during the day? How could something that was supposed to be so good for them feel so bad?
I allowed my inner monologue to drown out the histrionics taking place in the room across the hall. Before I knew it there was silence. I glanced at the clock. It was midnight. It took us 30 minutes but we made it. The force was strong.
He woke once again at 3:30am. Half asleep, I ventured to his room to find him crumpled up in the corner of his crib, cuddling with his teddy bear. I retrieved him and nursed him in the glider. Five minutes and he was out. He woke up as his back made contact with his mattress and fussed. No surprise there. But I stayed strong and tucked him in, my mind determined to revisit dreamland. Before my head hit the pillow, there was silence. Until 7am when he woke for the day.
Total night wakings: 2
Average stretch: 3-4 hours
Total hours in crib: 11 hours
Not too shabby. If he can lengthen his stretches to 5 hours each, with only one night waking, I can live with that.
Tonight, he went down at 7:30pm without a fight but just woke at 9:30pm - face down on the opposite side of the crib, BTW - to eat. Hopefully his tummy will now be full enough to make it through a longer stretch. Fingers and toes crossed.
Next step will be to cut night feedings down to one (or none) but we're taking one baby step at a time.
Before our move, Nate's nighttime sleeping pattern was consistent. Far from perfect but predictable. Waking every 3 hours to nurse but he would conk right back out and we could transfer him back to the crib with little or no bellyaching. Naps were another story but we stuck with the old reliable swing with the hopes that once nighttime sleep was established, we could convert naptime to the crib.
With our change of address also came a change in sleep habits. A full-blown sleep regression emerged, the likes of which we had never seen before. Nate cut out his second afternoon nap, dropping from 3 naps per day down to 2. As for bedtime, he was now up every hour on the hour. And since laying on his back is a thing of the past, he could now dramatize his commands by standing up and banging on his crib rail like a bongo. If I thought I was exhausted before, I was sadly mistaken. I would fervently rock him back to sleep in the glider - he'd be out within minutes - but the moment I laid him in the crib, he would scream bloody murder. Shrill, deafening screams that would pierce your eardrums and make you beg for mercy. In my despondency, I did the unthinkable. I picked him up and brought him back to our bed. I sure looked fashionable, cloaked in failure.
This went on for about a month. We were back to square one with the cosleeping. All of our hard work with gradual extinction went down the drain. This was the only way we could all get enough sleep to be functional the following day. We were stuck in this vicious cycle.
On St. Patrick's Day, the same day I gave my two-week notice to my job, I was feeling brave. I somehow found the cajones to give the sleep training another try.
The first few nights were pure hell, as anticipated. Nate wailed for close to an hour (DH going in here and there to soothe) before finally sacking out and succumbing to the sandman. And even then, the peace would only last an hour or two and he was up to his antics again. Wash, rinse, repeat. I decided to reset my expectations. If I could get him to spend half the night in his crib, I would cosleep the remaining half of the night. It was a trade-off. But it worked. His stretches grew to two hours. Then three. We even got some 4-5 hour stretches in there. It wasn't my desired end result but I was pleased to progress to our penultimate goal.
Last night was the first night I decided to go for the gold: all night in the crib. No cosleeping. I was apprehensive but I felt like it was now or never.
He was fed solids at 6:30pm and we had bathtime around 7pm complete with some baby massage and lotion. I sang some nursery rhymes and read him some board books as he played with some toys. With the first eye rub cue, I turned out the lights and nursed him. He was asleep within 5 minutes. I transferred him to the crib where he tossed and turned a bit before his eyelids once again grew heavy. He slept soundly until 11:30pm. 4 hour stretch - not bad. I nursed him again - with both breasts - until he was drunk and drowsy. However, this time, the relocation did not go as smoothly. The fussing turned to crying, which in turn led to a temper tantrum fit for a toddler. I was at a loss. I used the same formula for success that I had utilized earlier that evening. What was so different this time? Was it just out of habit in that he expected to be brought to bed?
I held my own and did not give in. I kissed his forehead, patted his bum, wished him a good night and closed the door behind me as I made a swift exit. I retired to bed with DH, where we could hear his contention growing more intense. After 15 minutes, DH went in for soothing duty but it only amplified his cries. He wanted to be held. I knew that was all he wanted. And with every cough and sniffle between the fountain of tears, I wanted to rescue him. I wanted to cave. I longed for his warm little body next to me, safe and sound. I questioned my motives. Was I doing the right thing? Did I not feed him enough? Did I not give him enough personal attention during the day? How could something that was supposed to be so good for them feel so bad?
I allowed my inner monologue to drown out the histrionics taking place in the room across the hall. Before I knew it there was silence. I glanced at the clock. It was midnight. It took us 30 minutes but we made it. The force was strong.
He woke once again at 3:30am. Half asleep, I ventured to his room to find him crumpled up in the corner of his crib, cuddling with his teddy bear. I retrieved him and nursed him in the glider. Five minutes and he was out. He woke up as his back made contact with his mattress and fussed. No surprise there. But I stayed strong and tucked him in, my mind determined to revisit dreamland. Before my head hit the pillow, there was silence. Until 7am when he woke for the day.
Total night wakings: 2
Average stretch: 3-4 hours
Total hours in crib: 11 hours
Not too shabby. If he can lengthen his stretches to 5 hours each, with only one night waking, I can live with that.
Tonight, he went down at 7:30pm without a fight but just woke at 9:30pm - face down on the opposite side of the crib, BTW - to eat. Hopefully his tummy will now be full enough to make it through a longer stretch. Fingers and toes crossed.
Next step will be to cut night feedings down to one (or none) but we're taking one baby step at a time.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Mashed Post-ato Friday
I apologize for the trite headline but this post is going to be a mash-up of several topics that aren't worthy of their own posts. Yes, I guess I'm exhibiting the Judging part of my ENFJ personality.
So, after a supremely fussy/clingy/generally pissy day on Tuesday, I was convinced we were in the throes of a 6-month growth spurt. I was bracing myself for a week of misery. But to my pleasant surprise, Nate woke up completely refreshed and was all smiles Wednesday morning. He began using my fingers as teethers and as he glided the tip across his bottom gumline, I felt a sharp, pointy stranger where a knot used to reside.
His first tooth had erupted (as I illustrated for Wordless Wednesday).
I shrieked with surprise and excitement and he smiled pompously, as if he knew what he had just sprouted and knowlingly affirmed "there's more where that came from, Mommy".
_______________________________________________
Nate's 6-month appointment was on Tuesday afternoon. My boy is 18 lbs, 2 oz and 27.5 inches long. His growth has slowed down a bit but he is still in the 70th percentile for weight and 80th percentile for height. Perfect physically and developmentally. Because his 4-month shots were delayed due to illness that lasted the entire month of December, he was spared from further vaccinations until mid-March.
We were given the green light to start solids so we introduced rice cereal - mixed with pumped breastmilk - that night. He tolerated it commendably and adeptly swallowed more than he spit out. But he quickly grew tired and began gagging on the soupy texture. After several spoonfuls, he was clearly full and disinterested in continuing the process.
Don't worry - I took more photos of the event than I would like to admit. They'll make for a perfect Wordless Wednesday next week. *wink*
After a few more days, I may introduce oatmeal and see if he favors it over the rice. But I probably won't pull out my trusty Beaba BabyCook for homemade fruits and veggies until after we make our move. *sigh*
_______________________________________________
Nate hasn't pooped in 4+ days. I understand it is normal for a breastfed baby to go for days without a bowel movement but we're talking about the kid who had monster blowouts 3-4x a day for more than 5 months. It doesn't seem normal to have a sudden, drastic change in bowel patterns. Even the rectal thermometer isn't stimulating things.
Please tell me my son hasn't inherited my awful IBS/chronic constipation.
Tomorrow, I think I'll send DH out to pick up some 100% prune or pear juice. From what I understand, it's like an enema in a bottle. I can't wait to see what fun this shall bring.
_______________________________________________
It's about time for another CIO report.
Bedtime has been fairly consistent since my last post. Nate has pushed up his bedtime to 8-830pm instead of his typical 9pm. Sometimes, he seems ready around 7 or 730pm, which saddens me if I've been at the office all day and don't return home until 6pm. On those days, I have to squeeze cuddle time and playtime into one hour. Just not enough. But once I see the signs of fatigue (rubbing eyes, yawning, attention deficit, general malaise, desire to nurse from both sides, etc. ), I retire to his room for a quick nurse and glide in the dark. I sometimes softly sing or hum a lullaby while I stroke his head. I should note that I rarely nurse him to sleep anymore. Instead, I unlatch him (or he unlatches himself), lay him in his crib awake with his beloved blankie and kiss his forehead, while reciting "nighty night". I leave the room and shut the door behind me.
Sheer silence. I don't hear one peep out of him as he first puts himself to sleep. *knock on wood* What an amazing transformation from just a week ago, when putting him down meant enduring hours of aural assault. It's a welcome improvement.
But he's still waking every 2-3 hours, almost to the minute. It's more out of habit than out of hunger, so I allow him to fuss for several minutes before going in to comfort him. Most times, he can fall back asleep on his own within 10 minutes. If he doesn't, a quick pat by Daddy or another quick "top-off" from Mommy will do the trick. But if he does in fact go back down, he is only down for another 2 hours or so before waking again and crying. It gets progressively more difficult for him to self-soothe as time goes on and usually by 4-5am, he is back in bed with us so we can all get some uniform rest for the last hour or two before waking for the day. We've had one or two 4-5 hour stretches, but those seem to be the exception rather than the rule.
I thought he may have been waking due to the winter weather, as his hands are often chilled when I go in for checks, but even on warmer nights or in fleece sleepers with a cotton onesie underneath, he wakes often. I also suspected the snow and hail falling on his bedroom window could have disturbed him, but he wakes even when the atmosphere is still. I've considered shopping for a sound machine but I'm not convinced that will solve the problem.
I'm beginning to accept that, like adults, every baby's habits will be different. Some are going to be naturally "good" sleepers - STTN at a mere "x" weeks old - and others will need more assistance to get to that final destination. My son happens to subscribe to the latter.
That being said, naptime - which used to be dreamy - has gone to H.E. Double Hockeysticks. He never used to put up much of a fight when I would place him in his swing at the 90-120 minute mark. But now he retrieves his gloves and starts boxing the moment my hands are removed from his back. It takes several attempts to get him down, despite displaying explicit signs that he is weary from being awake for 4+ hours. And even if we're lucky enough for him to give in, the shuteye only lasts long enough to be a catnap. Today, he napped a cumulative 30-40 minutes, as opposed to the usual 3-4 hours. I'm assuming this is due to teething and am hoping it will pass.
All I know is Mommy needs sleep if she's ever going to fill these empty boxes. Have I mentioned I hate moving?
Until next time...
So, after a supremely fussy/clingy/generally pissy day on Tuesday, I was convinced we were in the throes of a 6-month growth spurt. I was bracing myself for a week of misery. But to my pleasant surprise, Nate woke up completely refreshed and was all smiles Wednesday morning. He began using my fingers as teethers and as he glided the tip across his bottom gumline, I felt a sharp, pointy stranger where a knot used to reside.
His first tooth had erupted (as I illustrated for Wordless Wednesday).
I shrieked with surprise and excitement and he smiled pompously, as if he knew what he had just sprouted and knowlingly affirmed "there's more where that came from, Mommy".
_______________________________________________
Nate's 6-month appointment was on Tuesday afternoon. My boy is 18 lbs, 2 oz and 27.5 inches long. His growth has slowed down a bit but he is still in the 70th percentile for weight and 80th percentile for height. Perfect physically and developmentally. Because his 4-month shots were delayed due to illness that lasted the entire month of December, he was spared from further vaccinations until mid-March.
We were given the green light to start solids so we introduced rice cereal - mixed with pumped breastmilk - that night. He tolerated it commendably and adeptly swallowed more than he spit out. But he quickly grew tired and began gagging on the soupy texture. After several spoonfuls, he was clearly full and disinterested in continuing the process.
Don't worry - I took more photos of the event than I would like to admit. They'll make for a perfect Wordless Wednesday next week. *wink*
After a few more days, I may introduce oatmeal and see if he favors it over the rice. But I probably won't pull out my trusty Beaba BabyCook for homemade fruits and veggies until after we make our move. *sigh*
_______________________________________________
Nate hasn't pooped in 4+ days. I understand it is normal for a breastfed baby to go for days without a bowel movement but we're talking about the kid who had monster blowouts 3-4x a day for more than 5 months. It doesn't seem normal to have a sudden, drastic change in bowel patterns. Even the rectal thermometer isn't stimulating things.
Please tell me my son hasn't inherited my awful IBS/chronic constipation.
Tomorrow, I think I'll send DH out to pick up some 100% prune or pear juice. From what I understand, it's like an enema in a bottle. I can't wait to see what fun this shall bring.
_______________________________________________
It's about time for another CIO report.
Bedtime has been fairly consistent since my last post. Nate has pushed up his bedtime to 8-830pm instead of his typical 9pm. Sometimes, he seems ready around 7 or 730pm, which saddens me if I've been at the office all day and don't return home until 6pm. On those days, I have to squeeze cuddle time and playtime into one hour. Just not enough. But once I see the signs of fatigue (rubbing eyes, yawning, attention deficit, general malaise, desire to nurse from both sides, etc. ), I retire to his room for a quick nurse and glide in the dark. I sometimes softly sing or hum a lullaby while I stroke his head. I should note that I rarely nurse him to sleep anymore. Instead, I unlatch him (or he unlatches himself), lay him in his crib awake with his beloved blankie and kiss his forehead, while reciting "nighty night". I leave the room and shut the door behind me.
Sheer silence. I don't hear one peep out of him as he first puts himself to sleep. *knock on wood* What an amazing transformation from just a week ago, when putting him down meant enduring hours of aural assault. It's a welcome improvement.
But he's still waking every 2-3 hours, almost to the minute. It's more out of habit than out of hunger, so I allow him to fuss for several minutes before going in to comfort him. Most times, he can fall back asleep on his own within 10 minutes. If he doesn't, a quick pat by Daddy or another quick "top-off" from Mommy will do the trick. But if he does in fact go back down, he is only down for another 2 hours or so before waking again and crying. It gets progressively more difficult for him to self-soothe as time goes on and usually by 4-5am, he is back in bed with us so we can all get some uniform rest for the last hour or two before waking for the day. We've had one or two 4-5 hour stretches, but those seem to be the exception rather than the rule.
I thought he may have been waking due to the winter weather, as his hands are often chilled when I go in for checks, but even on warmer nights or in fleece sleepers with a cotton onesie underneath, he wakes often. I also suspected the snow and hail falling on his bedroom window could have disturbed him, but he wakes even when the atmosphere is still. I've considered shopping for a sound machine but I'm not convinced that will solve the problem.
I'm beginning to accept that, like adults, every baby's habits will be different. Some are going to be naturally "good" sleepers - STTN at a mere "x" weeks old - and others will need more assistance to get to that final destination. My son happens to subscribe to the latter.
That being said, naptime - which used to be dreamy - has gone to H.E. Double Hockeysticks. He never used to put up much of a fight when I would place him in his swing at the 90-120 minute mark. But now he retrieves his gloves and starts boxing the moment my hands are removed from his back. It takes several attempts to get him down, despite displaying explicit signs that he is weary from being awake for 4+ hours. And even if we're lucky enough for him to give in, the shuteye only lasts long enough to be a catnap. Today, he napped a cumulative 30-40 minutes, as opposed to the usual 3-4 hours. I'm assuming this is due to teething and am hoping it will pass.
All I know is Mommy needs sleep if she's ever going to fill these empty boxes. Have I mentioned I hate moving?
Until next time...
Sunday, January 25, 2009
In Pursuit of Magic Tricks
We may have cracked the code at getting Nate to go down without an hours-long temper trantrum. The magic to this CIO thing is keeping him down. That's the trick I need to master.
After a 90 minute stretch last night, Nate woke up expressing his extreme discomfort through abbreviated grunts that reminded me of Morse Code. I delayed entry into his nursery, waiting with bated breath for tranquility to return. But, alas, it wasn't meant to be.
After much hesitancy, I went in, picked him up and cuddled him in the nursery. He smeared the remnants of his tears on my camisole as he searched for a boob. I obliged, recalling that he was too distracted during our earlier playdate to be bothered with nutrition. I suspected that he was now compensating for the lack of calories.
I was able to get him to go down without protest once he was satiated. I succumbed to sleep myself but 2 hours later, my dreams were disturbed by panicked cries. In the shadows, I could see spit-up under his nose. The ugly, uninvited return of reflux. I picked him up and he began choking and gasping for air. I patted and rubbed his back, cradling him close to me. Eventually, the episode ended but he continued to be disgruntled. Despite my best efforts, I was consumed with fatigue and brought him to bed with me, where we both slept comfortably until 730am.
I know, I need to grow a backbone. But the positive side is that we can get him down in the crib. That part is getting progressively easier. We just need to work on prolonging the stretches. One step at a time, I say.
__________________________________________________
Today marks the one-year anniversary of Snowflake's unfulfilled due date. The memory of her loss still stings, as I think back to the blood, the cramps, the fear, the agony of waiting for confirmation of what I already knew to be true. I could never forget my baby girl. I will always miss her and this date will always carry with it a somber tone.
Instead of celebrating a one-year birthday, I'm on the brink of a 1/2 birthday. And despite my melancholy, I could not feel more fortuitous.
After a 90 minute stretch last night, Nate woke up expressing his extreme discomfort through abbreviated grunts that reminded me of Morse Code. I delayed entry into his nursery, waiting with bated breath for tranquility to return. But, alas, it wasn't meant to be.
After much hesitancy, I went in, picked him up and cuddled him in the nursery. He smeared the remnants of his tears on my camisole as he searched for a boob. I obliged, recalling that he was too distracted during our earlier playdate to be bothered with nutrition. I suspected that he was now compensating for the lack of calories.
I was able to get him to go down without protest once he was satiated. I succumbed to sleep myself but 2 hours later, my dreams were disturbed by panicked cries. In the shadows, I could see spit-up under his nose. The ugly, uninvited return of reflux. I picked him up and he began choking and gasping for air. I patted and rubbed his back, cradling him close to me. Eventually, the episode ended but he continued to be disgruntled. Despite my best efforts, I was consumed with fatigue and brought him to bed with me, where we both slept comfortably until 730am.
I know, I need to grow a backbone. But the positive side is that we can get him down in the crib. That part is getting progressively easier. We just need to work on prolonging the stretches. One step at a time, I say.
__________________________________________________
Today marks the one-year anniversary of Snowflake's unfulfilled due date. The memory of her loss still stings, as I think back to the blood, the cramps, the fear, the agony of waiting for confirmation of what I already knew to be true. I could never forget my baby girl. I will always miss her and this date will always carry with it a somber tone.
Instead of celebrating a one-year birthday, I'm on the brink of a 1/2 birthday. And despite my melancholy, I could not feel more fortuitous.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Silence is Golden
On last night's episode of CIO, you were left with a cliffhanger. Nate had been down for 2 consecutive hours. I'm sure you're dying to know what happened next, so here goes.
Nate woke up crying within 5 minutes of my last entry. Not screaming but crying for attention. I went in to soothe him and noticed he was a bit twisted in his blanket. So, I picked him up and readjusted him, patting his back and doing the Mama Sway. He quickly fell asleep on my shoulder, sighing loudly as if he had found sweet relief in mommy's embrace. I laid him down delicately in his crib and walked out, crossing my fingers.
There was no noise. No fuss. No crying. No screaming or wailing. Just silence.
DH and I quietly scampered off to bed. I laid awake, waiting for him to pitch a fit, demanding a warm body to cuddle beside. After several minutes of contemplation, I heard some grunting through our adjoinging wall so I sent DH in to mediate. As he exited the nursery, there was again serenity. I made note of the time. 11:47pm.
I was apprehensive, among many other emotions. I was cynical, believing that sleep was only a pipe dream; I'd only be woken to my son exercising his lungs. I was elated that I didn't have to resort to earplugs in order to catch some zzz's. But I missed his soft little body and the whisper of his breath on my chest. I was lonely. I had slept next to Nate for 6 months - not including the months prior when he would tussle about inside me as I would attempt to doze off. I can't even recall what sleep was like when it was just DH and I. I realized that this wasn't just an adjustment for Nate. It was an adjustment for me as well.
Before I knew it, my eyes were peeled open as I heard Nate bawling. I turned to look at the clock. It was 4:54am.
Some quick arithmetic confirmed a 5 hour stretch. F-I-V-E consecutive hours. In addition to the 2 before that. A total of 7 hours in his crib. I could not believe my eyes.
My breasts were like two swollen boulders under my neck but I hurried out of bed and into the nursery, swooping Nate up in my arms and covering him with kisses. I was so proud of my little guy. I cheated and brought him back to bed to nurse, where he slept for another 2 hours.
___________________________________________________
Today, Nate and I travelled to VA for a playdate with some of my FF gal pals. He slept the entire way there (1.5 hours) and the entire way back. He also napped for a bit in his Ergo as we shopped at the outlet mall.
We arrived home around 6pm. I fixed myself some dinner, we played for a bit and I gave him a bath. At 8pm, I took him in his nursery, turned off all the lights and nursed him in the glider, wrapping him in a velour blanket. Our new nightly routine.
He fell asleep at the boob and I gently transferred him to the crib. He was awake but drowsy. I walked out and closed the door, expecting a bit of fussing or crying.
But there was nothing. Absolute silence. And it's been like that for an hour now.
I guess I underestimated this CIO thing. It may be mentally, physically and emotionally draining - to say the least - but it really can work.
Nate woke up crying within 5 minutes of my last entry. Not screaming but crying for attention. I went in to soothe him and noticed he was a bit twisted in his blanket. So, I picked him up and readjusted him, patting his back and doing the Mama Sway. He quickly fell asleep on my shoulder, sighing loudly as if he had found sweet relief in mommy's embrace. I laid him down delicately in his crib and walked out, crossing my fingers.
There was no noise. No fuss. No crying. No screaming or wailing. Just silence.
DH and I quietly scampered off to bed. I laid awake, waiting for him to pitch a fit, demanding a warm body to cuddle beside. After several minutes of contemplation, I heard some grunting through our adjoinging wall so I sent DH in to mediate. As he exited the nursery, there was again serenity. I made note of the time. 11:47pm.
I was apprehensive, among many other emotions. I was cynical, believing that sleep was only a pipe dream; I'd only be woken to my son exercising his lungs. I was elated that I didn't have to resort to earplugs in order to catch some zzz's. But I missed his soft little body and the whisper of his breath on my chest. I was lonely. I had slept next to Nate for 6 months - not including the months prior when he would tussle about inside me as I would attempt to doze off. I can't even recall what sleep was like when it was just DH and I. I realized that this wasn't just an adjustment for Nate. It was an adjustment for me as well.
Before I knew it, my eyes were peeled open as I heard Nate bawling. I turned to look at the clock. It was 4:54am.
Some quick arithmetic confirmed a 5 hour stretch. F-I-V-E consecutive hours. In addition to the 2 before that. A total of 7 hours in his crib. I could not believe my eyes.
My breasts were like two swollen boulders under my neck but I hurried out of bed and into the nursery, swooping Nate up in my arms and covering him with kisses. I was so proud of my little guy. I cheated and brought him back to bed to nurse, where he slept for another 2 hours.
___________________________________________________
Today, Nate and I travelled to VA for a playdate with some of my FF gal pals. He slept the entire way there (1.5 hours) and the entire way back. He also napped for a bit in his Ergo as we shopped at the outlet mall.
We arrived home around 6pm. I fixed myself some dinner, we played for a bit and I gave him a bath. At 8pm, I took him in his nursery, turned off all the lights and nursed him in the glider, wrapping him in a velour blanket. Our new nightly routine.
He fell asleep at the boob and I gently transferred him to the crib. He was awake but drowsy. I walked out and closed the door, expecting a bit of fussing or crying.
But there was nothing. Absolute silence. And it's been like that for an hour now.
I guess I underestimated this CIO thing. It may be mentally, physically and emotionally draining - to say the least - but it really can work.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Dead or Alive
The protruding silence in my son's nursery leaves me with much time to muse about its origin. Has he actually fallen asleep after just 20 minutes of tears? Has he suffocated on his lovie? Rolled against the crib bumper and smothered himself? Will I walk in to find him strangled in his mobile? Yes, these are the persistent, morbid thoughts that cross my mind in the wee hours of the night.
Once Nate gives in to the Sandman, I find myself in a state of nihilism. I am constantly pacing back and forth in front of his door. I could swear I hear him crying or struggling even though he isn't making a peep at all.
This is what CIO does to a frazzled mother's mind. It breeds paranoid schizophrenia.
Despite my frequent surrender to cosleeping and lack of consistency throughout the night, I am noticing an improvement. We're on Day 5 of The Great Transformation and he has been down for 120 minutes. His best yet. And with less of the drama beforehand.
We're making progress. Slowly. Very slowly. But surely. I have low expectations so I am proud of any minute achievement.
Once Nate gives in to the Sandman, I find myself in a state of nihilism. I am constantly pacing back and forth in front of his door. I could swear I hear him crying or struggling even though he isn't making a peep at all.
This is what CIO does to a frazzled mother's mind. It breeds paranoid schizophrenia.
Despite my frequent surrender to cosleeping and lack of consistency throughout the night, I am noticing an improvement. We're on Day 5 of The Great Transformation and he has been down for 120 minutes. His best yet. And with less of the drama beforehand.
We're making progress. Slowly. Very slowly. But surely. I have low expectations so I am proud of any minute achievement.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The Great CIO Disaster of 2009
I'm sure you can gather from my title that last night didn't go so well after all. Well, it actually went beautifully for about 34 minutes before it all went to hell in a handbasket.
I guess I should start back at the beginning.
While I heart cosleeping, I have to admit it is taking its toll. On all of us. Nate is still waking 2-3 times a night to feed, even though I know he isn't truly hungry. It's purely out of habit. The boy has the nose of a bloodhound and can smell when fresh milk is in the vicinity because he is nestled tightly against my bosom. A few suckles and he's back to his coma. But if I offer his beloved Soothie, he wants none of it. Apparently, our fickle little paci snob will only accept it during daylight hours. This means we are all up every 3 hours during the night. Sometimes more. It could be much, much worse so please don't interpret this as a griping, woe-is-me whinefest. I am just recognizing the limitations of our current arrangement.
I have fared quite well living on broken sleep intervals for just under 6 months. But I am running on fumes. I am so forgetful and exhausted most days that espresso can't even save me. It's a wonder how I manage a full-time job on top of mommyhood. And Nate is also affected when he doesn't get enough nighttime sleep. He will become overtired and will refuse to nap, leading to a high-needs, spirited baby begging for mercy. DH is also increasingly afraid of rolling over into him as his girth expands.DH We decided that as we are on the brink of Nate's 1/2 birthday, there was no better time than the present to get him accustomed to sleeping in his crib.
Around 8pm, Nate caught a case of the evening "fussies". Short attention span, zero tolerance for amusement, rubbing of the eyes and a dash of crankiness. This lets me know when he's had enough and is ready to hit the sack. So, instead of taking him to bed and nursing him side-laying as we normally do, I took him to his nursery, changed his diaper and turned off all the lights. I cuddled him in the glider and nursed him until his eyes glazed over. He wasn't completely asleep but was drowsy enough to pass the limp wrist test. I wrapped him in a soft blankie (a SIDS risk, I know...but he likes to grip it as he drifts off to la-la land) and gently laid him in his crib.
We had success. After several minutes of peacefulness, I took the time to write the previous post. Full of hope but not exactly brimming with confidence. I was a bit scared yet composed.
The tranquility was pierced with screams and wails approximately 10 minutes after I hit publish. He had just eaten 45 minutes ago so he couldn't possibly be hungry. He had a fresh diaper. He was not sick or feverish. His reflux has all but resolved itself entirely in the past month.
It was time to Ferberize.
I went in to soothe him - patting his back and butt and shushing him, trying to get him to take his pacifier. It was a lost cause. After 30 seconds, I retreated back out to the living room, while my son cried exponentially harder. It was as if I had strapped him down on the Wheel of Torture and was tearing him limb from limb, all while using an apple on his head for target practice. The five minutes I restrained myself before returning to him were downright dreadful. My heart shattered in a million little pieces as I listened to his cries, and I confess I shed some tears right along with him.
I sauntered back into the nursery, trying desperately not to make eye contact and get down to business. But how could I not look at my baby as he implored me to hold him close? I again made an attempt to soothe him to no avail. If anything, I felt my presence made the situation worse. He began choking on his saliva, nearly throwing up from the power of his shrieking. He reached his chubby arms out to me, shaking and crying louder than ever. It was so intense I almost broke down weeping. I rubbed his head, kissed his sticky, tear-stained cheek, swaddled him up in his blanket and turned away, walking out and closing the door.
This dance lasted for 2-1/2 hours (yes, you read right - TWO AND A HALF HOURS) before I had had enough. I did the unthinkable - I gave in and picked him up. His crying immediately ceased and all I could hear was his raspy breath muffled in the crook of my neck. Defeated, we both sunk into bed for the long night.
I'm at a loss. I can't just shut the door and let him cry it out until he passes out from sheer exhaustion. I don't want him to completely lose confidence that I will respond to his needs. And I don't want him to associate his crib with a traumatic experience. But surely if he didn't go to sleep after 2-1/2 hours of gradual extinction, something is amiss. Most Ferber advocates claim their child only cried for 30 minutes - possibly an hour - before settling down. But Nate gets so worked up that it's impossible for him to soothe himself. He just gets more overtired, inflating the problem.
At this point, having a toddler sleeping in our bed is appealing.
I feel like a terrible mother. Did I create a monster by facilitating attachment parenting? I feel like a failure because my son has atypical sleep habits, at which most adults balk. He naps in a swing he is quickly outgrowing and he sleeps with mommy and daddy. I feel like I am doing him a disservice to allow him to sleep with me because he is growing dependent on me to fall asleep. But it feels wrong to just stick him in his crib cold turkey and listen to him cry out for me. Is this really what is best for him long-term when the short-term is so agonizing?
Tonight is round two and so far, it's been over an hour of fruitless Ferberizing. Am I forever doomed? Once you cosleep, do you never look back? I mean, animals cosleep with each other and naturally wean, sleeping independently as they age. Should I take the same approach with the hope that he will one day desire his own space? Or should I take the reins now and adjust his sleep patterns while he is still young enough to mold? No matter what it takes or what sacrifices must be made?
Sleep is so incredibly important for a healthy lifestyle. Just as important as diet or exercise. I realize this. I never in my wildest dreams conceived how hard it would be to execute.
I just wish I knew if I was doing the right thing.
Ten minutes is up. Time to go back inside the ring. May we emerge victorious and unscathed.
I guess I should start back at the beginning.
While I heart cosleeping, I have to admit it is taking its toll. On all of us. Nate is still waking 2-3 times a night to feed, even though I know he isn't truly hungry. It's purely out of habit. The boy has the nose of a bloodhound and can smell when fresh milk is in the vicinity because he is nestled tightly against my bosom. A few suckles and he's back to his coma. But if I offer his beloved Soothie, he wants none of it. Apparently, our fickle little paci snob will only accept it during daylight hours. This means we are all up every 3 hours during the night. Sometimes more. It could be much, much worse so please don't interpret this as a griping, woe-is-me whinefest. I am just recognizing the limitations of our current arrangement.
I have fared quite well living on broken sleep intervals for just under 6 months. But I am running on fumes. I am so forgetful and exhausted most days that espresso can't even save me. It's a wonder how I manage a full-time job on top of mommyhood. And Nate is also affected when he doesn't get enough nighttime sleep. He will become overtired and will refuse to nap, leading to a high-needs, spirited baby begging for mercy. DH is also increasingly afraid of rolling over into him as his girth expands.
Around 8pm, Nate caught a case of the evening "fussies". Short attention span, zero tolerance for amusement, rubbing of the eyes and a dash of crankiness. This lets me know when he's had enough and is ready to hit the sack. So, instead of taking him to bed and nursing him side-laying as we normally do, I took him to his nursery, changed his diaper and turned off all the lights. I cuddled him in the glider and nursed him until his eyes glazed over. He wasn't completely asleep but was drowsy enough to pass the limp wrist test. I wrapped him in a soft blankie (a SIDS risk, I know...but he likes to grip it as he drifts off to la-la land) and gently laid him in his crib.
We had success. After several minutes of peacefulness, I took the time to write the previous post. Full of hope but not exactly brimming with confidence. I was a bit scared yet composed.
The tranquility was pierced with screams and wails approximately 10 minutes after I hit publish. He had just eaten 45 minutes ago so he couldn't possibly be hungry. He had a fresh diaper. He was not sick or feverish. His reflux has all but resolved itself entirely in the past month.
It was time to Ferberize.
I went in to soothe him - patting his back and butt and shushing him, trying to get him to take his pacifier. It was a lost cause. After 30 seconds, I retreated back out to the living room, while my son cried exponentially harder. It was as if I had strapped him down on the Wheel of Torture and was tearing him limb from limb, all while using an apple on his head for target practice. The five minutes I restrained myself before returning to him were downright dreadful. My heart shattered in a million little pieces as I listened to his cries, and I confess I shed some tears right along with him.
I sauntered back into the nursery, trying desperately not to make eye contact and get down to business. But how could I not look at my baby as he implored me to hold him close? I again made an attempt to soothe him to no avail. If anything, I felt my presence made the situation worse. He began choking on his saliva, nearly throwing up from the power of his shrieking. He reached his chubby arms out to me, shaking and crying louder than ever. It was so intense I almost broke down weeping. I rubbed his head, kissed his sticky, tear-stained cheek, swaddled him up in his blanket and turned away, walking out and closing the door.
This dance lasted for 2-1/2 hours (yes, you read right - TWO AND A HALF HOURS) before I had had enough. I did the unthinkable - I gave in and picked him up. His crying immediately ceased and all I could hear was his raspy breath muffled in the crook of my neck. Defeated, we both sunk into bed for the long night.
I'm at a loss. I can't just shut the door and let him cry it out until he passes out from sheer exhaustion. I don't want him to completely lose confidence that I will respond to his needs. And I don't want him to associate his crib with a traumatic experience. But surely if he didn't go to sleep after 2-1/2 hours of gradual extinction, something is amiss. Most Ferber advocates claim their child only cried for 30 minutes - possibly an hour - before settling down. But Nate gets so worked up that it's impossible for him to soothe himself. He just gets more overtired, inflating the problem.
At this point, having a toddler sleeping in our bed is appealing.
I feel like a terrible mother. Did I create a monster by facilitating attachment parenting? I feel like a failure because my son has atypical sleep habits, at which most adults balk. He naps in a swing he is quickly outgrowing and he sleeps with mommy and daddy. I feel like I am doing him a disservice to allow him to sleep with me because he is growing dependent on me to fall asleep. But it feels wrong to just stick him in his crib cold turkey and listen to him cry out for me. Is this really what is best for him long-term when the short-term is so agonizing?
Tonight is round two and so far, it's been over an hour of fruitless Ferberizing. Am I forever doomed? Once you cosleep, do you never look back? I mean, animals cosleep with each other and naturally wean, sleeping independently as they age. Should I take the same approach with the hope that he will one day desire his own space? Or should I take the reins now and adjust his sleep patterns while he is still young enough to mold? No matter what it takes or what sacrifices must be made?
Sleep is so incredibly important for a healthy lifestyle. Just as important as diet or exercise. I realize this. I never in my wildest dreams conceived how hard it would be to execute.
I just wish I knew if I was doing the right thing.
Ten minutes is up. Time to go back inside the ring. May we emerge victorious and unscathed.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Dare I
We may be celebrating the inauguration of the president elect tomorrow but I am revelling in our own initiation here in the Sticky household.
Dare I even speak of the monumental event that is occurring right now?
I am sure that the mere act of typing the words is enough to jinx it. But I may implode if I can't share my elation.
My son is asleep.
In his crib.
And has been for about 20 minutes now.
Do you realize how big a deal this is? Not just big. Monumental.
Let's see how long this lasts.
Dare I even speak of the monumental event that is occurring right now?
I am sure that the mere act of typing the words is enough to jinx it. But I may implode if I can't share my elation.
My son is asleep.
In his crib.
And has been for about 20 minutes now.
Do you realize how big a deal this is? Not just big. Monumental.
Let's see how long this lasts.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Resolutions
I rang in 2009 snuggling with my son - who was nearly comatose from overindulging warm milk - in bed, shielding him from the blaring pyrotechnics occurring just outside of our bedroom window.
Nate was born LAST year. I was pregnant with him the year BEFORE LAST. How insane is that?! What's even scarier is that THIS year, he'll turn one. Goodness! Before I know it, with the exponential speed with which time has been travelling, he'll be starting school, driving, and dating.
As with all New Years celebrations, the descent of the gigantic, luminous orb had me not only reflecting on the monumental year that was 2008, but also pondering self-improvement. I've lived and I've learned much over the past 12 months but I can't stop in my tracks. I can't relish in the comfortableness when there is so much potential beyond the present. The only constant from year to year is change. Things - life - will inevitably morph and shift, and we will struggle to adapt. I have to strive to be a better mother. A better wife. A better daughter and sister. A better friend and person.
Is it possible to transplant the best parts of 2008 into the new year? How can I better myself so that I become more valuable to those around me?
I was never much of a believer in setting resolutions. It seems that the moment you utter the r-word, it is a self-fulfilling prophecy to fail. Even an honest attempt to achieve a resolution is moot if left unresolved when the sand runs out at the end of the year. I am more inclined to set goals - both short-term and long-term. That way, I can still hold myself accountable but I will not be held under the duress of a stringent annual deadline.
Without further ado, my newfound objectives are as follows:
1. Grow spiritually
I want to strengthen my faith and attend church more frequently. Oftentimes, the daily rigamarole of life supersedes making time for the Lord. It's easy to make excuses as to why we just couldn't make it this particular Sunday (i.e. the service is during baby's naptime, it's just too far to travel in the morning, etc.). But I really want to make our spirituality a priority, as are our careers or quality time with friends and family. The pastor's word makes us feel so wholesome and rejuvenated after a challenging work week. I'd like to lengthen that feeling of integrity all week, month and year-long.
I'd also like to study Bible passages in an effort to understand the text around which we center our Christian values.
2. Revitalize intimacy
Since we became a family of three, DH and I have struggled to redefine intimacy. Not just physically but also emotionally. The overwhelming needs of an infant often dominate our lives and it is easy to overlook or outright ignore our spouses' or our own needs. We can no longer rely solely on romantic movie nights, candlelit dinners or a passionate evening to bring us closer. We need to exercise our creativity to find other fulfilling ways to show our affection.
I want to be more aware of this and not just circumvent the issue or procrastinate. I want to be more proactive, which leads me to my next goal.
3. Communicate more effectively
I have never been confrontational so I tend to sweep things under the rug in order to avoid strife. I want to be more open with my feelings so I am not forcing DH to speculate as to my needs or desires. It is unfair to set unrealistic expectations of him or others if I am not explicit.
I also want to deepen my interpersonal relationships with friends by maintaining contact. Since becoming a mom, my social life has dwindled to email or MySpace or Facebook comments. I was never really a party animal but I would like to reconnect with friends face-to-face, whether it be a family-friendly dinner with the boy in tow or a girls' night out sans baby.
May I add, in the blogworld, I'd like to comment more and discover new blogs related to IF, specifically parenting after IF. I used to be a master commenter before the p-words - pregnancy and preparation - consumed my life. Now, with my new 27 inch boss, I hardly have the time to construct an admissable post much less offer useful advice and support to my online buddies. I want to make the time to be there for those who were there for me in my darkest days and continue to follow me on my lighter path.
Perhaps the most generic and selfish of all my goals. It won't really benefit anyone but myself - unless you consider yourself a member of the "happy mommy, happy daddy/baby" camp. Yet I think it would improve my self-image to lose the poundage I gained during my dreaded Clomid days.
As of Christmastime, I have officially reached my prepregnancy weight. Since I was able to do so through breastfeeding alone, I consider that a huge accomplishment. But these pesky 5 to 10 more lbs. will probably be more problematic. I will need to eat healthier - perhaps join Weight Watchers or a similar diet program that is safe for nursing mothers - and exercise (gasp!) to shed them and keep them at bay.
And I will need to accept that I may hang onto a portion of my spare tire until I wean. As much as I love my new faux boob job, I will have to start mourning their loss now, as they are unlikely to hang around once my milk is expired and once they are subjected to the diet and exercise regimen I plan to implement.
5. Transition Nate to his crib successfully for naps and nighttime sleep
This is a small albeit substantial short-term goal. I cherish co-sleeping but I know our days are numbered. I have several sleep books in my arsenal and hope to devise a method to transition him in the next month or two. And since naps are still isolated to his swing, I'd also like to move those to his big, beautiful, yet motionless crib.
Like anything else, it's one step at a time.
Nate was born LAST year. I was pregnant with him the year BEFORE LAST. How insane is that?! What's even scarier is that THIS year, he'll turn one. Goodness! Before I know it, with the exponential speed with which time has been travelling, he'll be starting school, driving, and dating.
As with all New Years celebrations, the descent of the gigantic, luminous orb had me not only reflecting on the monumental year that was 2008, but also pondering self-improvement. I've lived and I've learned much over the past 12 months but I can't stop in my tracks. I can't relish in the comfortableness when there is so much potential beyond the present. The only constant from year to year is change. Things - life - will inevitably morph and shift, and we will struggle to adapt. I have to strive to be a better mother. A better wife. A better daughter and sister. A better friend and person.
Is it possible to transplant the best parts of 2008 into the new year? How can I better myself so that I become more valuable to those around me?
I was never much of a believer in setting resolutions. It seems that the moment you utter the r-word, it is a self-fulfilling prophecy to fail. Even an honest attempt to achieve a resolution is moot if left unresolved when the sand runs out at the end of the year. I am more inclined to set goals - both short-term and long-term. That way, I can still hold myself accountable but I will not be held under the duress of a stringent annual deadline.
Without further ado, my newfound objectives are as follows:
1. Grow spiritually
I want to strengthen my faith and attend church more frequently. Oftentimes, the daily rigamarole of life supersedes making time for the Lord. It's easy to make excuses as to why we just couldn't make it this particular Sunday (i.e. the service is during baby's naptime, it's just too far to travel in the morning, etc.). But I really want to make our spirituality a priority, as are our careers or quality time with friends and family. The pastor's word makes us feel so wholesome and rejuvenated after a challenging work week. I'd like to lengthen that feeling of integrity all week, month and year-long.
I'd also like to study Bible passages in an effort to understand the text around which we center our Christian values.
2. Revitalize intimacy
Since we became a family of three, DH and I have struggled to redefine intimacy. Not just physically but also emotionally. The overwhelming needs of an infant often dominate our lives and it is easy to overlook or outright ignore our spouses' or our own needs. We can no longer rely solely on romantic movie nights, candlelit dinners or a passionate evening to bring us closer. We need to exercise our creativity to find other fulfilling ways to show our affection.
I want to be more aware of this and not just circumvent the issue or procrastinate. I want to be more proactive, which leads me to my next goal.
3. Communicate more effectively
I have never been confrontational so I tend to sweep things under the rug in order to avoid strife. I want to be more open with my feelings so I am not forcing DH to speculate as to my needs or desires. It is unfair to set unrealistic expectations of him or others if I am not explicit.
I also want to deepen my interpersonal relationships with friends by maintaining contact. Since becoming a mom, my social life has dwindled to email or MySpace or Facebook comments. I was never really a party animal but I would like to reconnect with friends face-to-face, whether it be a family-friendly dinner with the boy in tow or a girls' night out sans baby.
May I add, in the blogworld, I'd like to comment more and discover new blogs related to IF, specifically parenting after IF. I used to be a master commenter before the p-words - pregnancy and preparation - consumed my life. Now, with my new 27 inch boss, I hardly have the time to construct an admissable post much less offer useful advice and support to my online buddies. I want to make the time to be there for those who were there for me in my darkest days and continue to follow me on my lighter path.
While I am happy to put my family first above all else, I don't want to lose the small yet priceless support system I have. I do not have many friends so it is imperative to show appreciation to the ones I do have.
4. Lose 5 to 10 more poundsPerhaps the most generic and selfish of all my goals. It won't really benefit anyone but myself - unless you consider yourself a member of the "happy mommy, happy daddy/baby" camp. Yet I think it would improve my self-image to lose the poundage I gained during my dreaded Clomid days.
As of Christmastime, I have officially reached my prepregnancy weight. Since I was able to do so through breastfeeding alone, I consider that a huge accomplishment. But these pesky 5 to 10 more lbs. will probably be more problematic. I will need to eat healthier - perhaps join Weight Watchers or a similar diet program that is safe for nursing mothers - and exercise (gasp!) to shed them and keep them at bay.
And I will need to accept that I may hang onto a portion of my spare tire until I wean. As much as I love my new faux boob job, I will have to start mourning their loss now, as they are unlikely to hang around once my milk is expired and once they are subjected to the diet and exercise regimen I plan to implement.
5. Transition Nate to his crib successfully for naps and nighttime sleep
This is a small albeit substantial short-term goal. I cherish co-sleeping but I know our days are numbered. I have several sleep books in my arsenal and hope to devise a method to transition him in the next month or two. And since naps are still isolated to his swing, I'd also like to move those to his big, beautiful, yet motionless crib.
Like anything else, it's one step at a time.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Sleepyhead
Nate has decided to take advantage of the weekend and sleep in.
Normal routine is asleep by 10pm and up at 7am, with 2-3 awakenings during that time. Last night, he fell asleep an hour early at 8pm and dreamfed 3 times during the night before finally waking up for good at 8am. Not even close to sleeping through the night but I'll gladly take what I can get.
Despite his slumber, he napped all day long like he hadn't slept in years. Hour long nap. Wake long enough to feed, babble a bit and get a diaper change. Repeat. I even questioned if someone had slipped him some tranquilizers while I was in the shower this morning.
He did have moss-colored poo last night but it has since returned to its usual chartreuse shade. So I don't think he's coming down with a cold. Perhaps just a temporary foremilk/hindmilk inbalance.
He's been in pretty good spirits - only getting fussy when he's ready for naptime and I've missed his cues. I have to put him down at the sight of the first yawn or risk the misery of overtiredness. I've learned that lesson the hard way.
I'm thinking the hibernation is just more evidence of a wonder week in full swing.
Normal routine is asleep by 10pm and up at 7am, with 2-3 awakenings during that time. Last night, he fell asleep an hour early at 8pm and dreamfed 3 times during the night before finally waking up for good at 8am. Not even close to sleeping through the night but I'll gladly take what I can get.
Despite his slumber, he napped all day long like he hadn't slept in years. Hour long nap. Wake long enough to feed, babble a bit and get a diaper change. Repeat. I even questioned if someone had slipped him some tranquilizers while I was in the shower this morning.
He did have moss-colored poo last night but it has since returned to its usual chartreuse shade. So I don't think he's coming down with a cold. Perhaps just a temporary foremilk/hindmilk inbalance.
He's been in pretty good spirits - only getting fussy when he's ready for naptime and I've missed his cues. I have to put him down at the sight of the first yawn or risk the misery of overtiredness. I've learned that lesson the hard way.
I'm thinking the hibernation is just more evidence of a wonder week in full swing.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Lethargy and a Great Misnomer
Daylight savings time can kiss my arse. It hasn't done a thing but cost me time today.
I put Nate down (and thus myself) an hour later than usual last night with the hope that his sleep and nap pattern would not be greatly affected. We retired to bed at 10:30pm. Nate woke around 1am. Pop out boob. Suckle. Back asleep. Stirring again at 3am. Pop out boob. Suckle. Back asleep. Stirring again at 5am. Pop out boob. Suckle. Back asleep. Stirring again at 7am. Usual wake-up time. Gave up the pipe dream of a decent night's sleep. Changed massive pee diaper. Put baby in swing. Watched him doze off enviously. Made myself a cup 'o joe and hopped online to look for holiday gift ideas.
Due to Nate's reflux, we feed from only one side at a time. This limits the spit-up and projectile vomit episodes. But it does mean he needs to eat more frequently - about every 1.5 hours - as opposed to 3 or 4 hours that most babies can manage. His light snacking is not an issue during the daytime but it poses a problem for sleeping through the night. I guess I'm destined for many a sleepless night until his digestive system matures and he can handle the load from both of my milk trucks.
MIL told DH she thinks I should give up breastfeeding, as it makes Nate too gassy, and opt for formula instead. Don't even get me started on this. Yes, I have an overactive letdown reflex and yes, it can sometimes choke him and cause him to gulp, taking in more air. But I refuse to wean him and give him exclusive formula, which would probably be harder on his sensitive tummy than breastmilk. I'm not opposed to supplementation but I have really been trying with all of my might to reach my goal of 6 months exclusive breastmilk. And I don't plan on straying from this objective unless a medical professional convinces me otherwise. How about supporting the decision I've made in my family's best interest instead of insulting me and basically implying that my son's reflux is my fault? Just because you raised two children does not make you an expert on what works for every child. Case in point: I specifically told her that Nate is now in 3-6 month clothes. I even pointed out which drawer to use in case of an impromptu accident. On the one day we ask her to watch him, she purposefully dressed him in a 0-3 month outfit - contrary to my crystal clear instructions - because it was "cute". Nevermind that it looked like a muscle tee and nearly cut off the circulation in his thighs.
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!
Sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah, reflux...
I've been avoiding meds since Nate has been gaining weight like a champ. I didn't want to administer anything deemed unnecessary. But I'm wondering if I should give them a go and see if we can build up to longer intervals between feeds. Something to discuss with the pediatrician on Tuesday, I suppose.
I'm also conflicted about cosleeping. I do love having him close to me - and simply rolling over to feed is quite convenient and conducive to my laziness - but I don't want to hinder his development or foster dependency on my scent or presence in order to fall asleep in the future. The nurse practitioner at my pediatrician's office practically slapped my wrist at his last visit and told me not to continue with it unless I wanted a three-year old sleeping in bed with us. Then again, I've heard from BTDT moms who said they waited anywhere from 4-8 months to transition to the crib and had very little problem doing so. In fact, they encouraged cosleeping and said that until 4 months old, babies are incapable of soothing themselves to sleep. I'd like to believe I could have the same seamless shift but since things have yet to be "easy" en la casa del Sticky, I need a plan of attack.
We have attempted to cry it out (CIO) a few times to no avail. At bedtime, I would rock him and feed and once he was drowsy, I would lay him down in his crib and quietly leave the room. He would be peaceful for several minutes but eventually whining would ensue. Whining would give way to crying. And the crying would give way to screaming - virtual pleading for me to come back. After 5 minutes, I would go back in to rub his back and soothe him without picking him up, speaking in a soft whisper. I would leave the room again and he would begin crying so dramatically that I feared he would vomit. I reached my limit of 10 minutes before I conceded to his demands and retreived him from hisprison crib.
I've tried to use the crib more for naps, reasoning that we could gradually work our way from resting to slumber, but the maximum I can get out of him is 20 minutes. In his swing, I can get at least 45 minutes, if not longer. So, back to old reliable.
I've tried to execute the 3 B's (bath, boob, bed) but when reflux strikes, leaving behind the scent of eau de spoiled milk, or we have a morning blowout from the sheer force of hours of compacted waste, I have to bathe on demand. And since consistency is key to establishing any long-lasting routine, this plan is also unreliable.
I took an outing to the bookstore today and bought several sleep books. I should be able to pull at least one piece of useful advice from these texts. If I can only find the time to read them...
I'm desperate to nail down a routine. I think structure, in whichever form it may exist, is needed to preserve our sanity.
I put Nate down (and thus myself) an hour later than usual last night with the hope that his sleep and nap pattern would not be greatly affected. We retired to bed at 10:30pm. Nate woke around 1am. Pop out boob. Suckle. Back asleep. Stirring again at 3am. Pop out boob. Suckle. Back asleep. Stirring again at 5am. Pop out boob. Suckle. Back asleep. Stirring again at 7am. Usual wake-up time. Gave up the pipe dream of a decent night's sleep. Changed massive pee diaper. Put baby in swing. Watched him doze off enviously. Made myself a cup 'o joe and hopped online to look for holiday gift ideas.
Due to Nate's reflux, we feed from only one side at a time. This limits the spit-up and projectile vomit episodes. But it does mean he needs to eat more frequently - about every 1.5 hours - as opposed to 3 or 4 hours that most babies can manage. His light snacking is not an issue during the daytime but it poses a problem for sleeping through the night. I guess I'm destined for many a sleepless night until his digestive system matures and he can handle the load from both of my milk trucks.
MIL told DH she thinks I should give up breastfeeding, as it makes Nate too gassy, and opt for formula instead. Don't even get me started on this. Yes, I have an overactive letdown reflex and yes, it can sometimes choke him and cause him to gulp, taking in more air. But I refuse to wean him and give him exclusive formula, which would probably be harder on his sensitive tummy than breastmilk. I'm not opposed to supplementation but I have really been trying with all of my might to reach my goal of 6 months exclusive breastmilk. And I don't plan on straying from this objective unless a medical professional convinces me otherwise. How about supporting the decision I've made in my family's best interest instead of insulting me and basically implying that my son's reflux is my fault? Just because you raised two children does not make you an expert on what works for every child. Case in point: I specifically told her that Nate is now in 3-6 month clothes. I even pointed out which drawer to use in case of an impromptu accident. On the one day we ask her to watch him, she purposefully dressed him in a 0-3 month outfit - contrary to my crystal clear instructions - because it was "cute". Nevermind that it looked like a muscle tee and nearly cut off the circulation in his thighs.
GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!
Sorry, where was I? Oh, yeah, reflux...
I've been avoiding meds since Nate has been gaining weight like a champ. I didn't want to administer anything deemed unnecessary. But I'm wondering if I should give them a go and see if we can build up to longer intervals between feeds. Something to discuss with the pediatrician on Tuesday, I suppose.
I'm also conflicted about cosleeping. I do love having him close to me - and simply rolling over to feed is quite convenient and conducive to my laziness - but I don't want to hinder his development or foster dependency on my scent or presence in order to fall asleep in the future. The nurse practitioner at my pediatrician's office practically slapped my wrist at his last visit and told me not to continue with it unless I wanted a three-year old sleeping in bed with us. Then again, I've heard from BTDT moms who said they waited anywhere from 4-8 months to transition to the crib and had very little problem doing so. In fact, they encouraged cosleeping and said that until 4 months old, babies are incapable of soothing themselves to sleep. I'd like to believe I could have the same seamless shift but since things have yet to be "easy" en la casa del Sticky, I need a plan of attack.
We have attempted to cry it out (CIO) a few times to no avail. At bedtime, I would rock him and feed and once he was drowsy, I would lay him down in his crib and quietly leave the room. He would be peaceful for several minutes but eventually whining would ensue. Whining would give way to crying. And the crying would give way to screaming - virtual pleading for me to come back. After 5 minutes, I would go back in to rub his back and soothe him without picking him up, speaking in a soft whisper. I would leave the room again and he would begin crying so dramatically that I feared he would vomit. I reached my limit of 10 minutes before I conceded to his demands and retreived him from his
I've tried to use the crib more for naps, reasoning that we could gradually work our way from resting to slumber, but the maximum I can get out of him is 20 minutes. In his swing, I can get at least 45 minutes, if not longer. So, back to old reliable.
I've tried to execute the 3 B's (bath, boob, bed) but when reflux strikes, leaving behind the scent of eau de spoiled milk, or we have a morning blowout from the sheer force of hours of compacted waste, I have to bathe on demand. And since consistency is key to establishing any long-lasting routine, this plan is also unreliable.
I took an outing to the bookstore today and bought several sleep books. I should be able to pull at least one piece of useful advice from these texts. If I can only find the time to read them...
I'm desperate to nail down a routine. I think structure, in whichever form it may exist, is needed to preserve our sanity.
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