No, you haven't flashed back 30 years. But I found the theme song appropriate in this case.
After 22 months, PPAF has finally made her appearance.
I don't know whether to laugh or cry. It's been nice being able to avoid the tampon aisle for as long as I have. I knew, logically, she had to come back sometime. And with Nate sleeping better at night, I knew it was imminent. But it still surprised me to look down today and see the evidence. It does reinforce that the weaning process is indeed working.
Tonight, I'll be pulling out the BBT that has been tucked away in my bedside table drawer for almost two years. We're not preventing. We're just seeing what happens.
I'm not sure if I'm ready for all this again. The charting. The timing. The waiting. The inevitable disappointment.
But when I look at Nate's sweet smile, I get a sense of hope. That, like the first go round, it will all be worth it in the end.
Monday, August 24, 2009
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.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
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?
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Party's Over
It's official. I'm now the mommy of a 1-year old. One year plus two days to be exact.
The party on Saturday can be summed up in two words: delightful chaos. While the details remain one big blur, I will attempt an account to share.
I spent most of Friday doing some last minute cleaning (windows, floors, etc.) and organizing for the party. DH got off work a little early and stopped by a local farm to pick up some hay bales as seating in the backyard. I baked Nate's smash cake, filled the favor bags and assembled the party hats and blowouts.
Saturday morning, we woke up early to pick up the guest cake at the bakery and prep the food. I set up the food table, hung the decorations and blew up balloons. I had just enough time to shower and take a deep breath before the doorbell rang at noon with the first group of arrivals.
Nate was in the middle of his morning nap at the start of the party so I was able to finish up some last minute prep and socialize while DH grilled. I received some phone calls and texts from friends and family who were stuck in traffic. Apparently, there was a 9-mile backup at the Bay Bridge and many of our guests were unable to avoid it. This meant that many of them arrived late and understandably disheveled. Our party seemed to occur in shifts. I apologized profusely out of guilt for the poor timing.
The weather was sunny. A little too sunny, in fact. The high was about 88 degrees and it was simply too hot for many guests to stay outside. So, everyone piled into our house, which dwarfed with 40 people inside. At one point, it was standing room only. I'm sure I wasn't the only one that felt like a sardine. But despite the close quarters, everyone maintained good spirits - even the youngsters.
Around 230pm, the majority of our guests had arrived and we decided to roll out the cake. Nate looked a bit nonplussed as everyone sang Happy Birthday. He wasn't sure what the big deal was. We put the cake in front of him and he picked at the fondant lettering daintily, suspicious of the contents. Being ever the evil mama, I took his hand and shoveled it into the cake. What can I say? I was desperate for a photo opp. I let him taste some of the buttercream icing off of my finger and he licked his fingers clean from the mess we made. But after that, he was through with the sweets and voiced his dissatisfaction being on display upon his throne. He would much rather play with the other kiddos that were grounded.
Once everyone had been served and indulged in their dessert, it was time to open gifts. Mommy and Daddy gave him a Fisher Price Laugh and Learn Home and Bounce and Spin Zebra. But our lucky little guy received so many other generous presents including a water table, trike, ride-on, puzzles, board books and clothes. His favorite had to be his Elmo Live from Grandma. His eyes just lit up the moment he spotted the furry red monster. The kids just about tackled each other to get closer. He was definitely the highlight of the party for the little ones.
After the last of the cards and gifts had been opened, many of our guests hit the road. Some family lingered for a while longer but by 5pm, it was back to just the three of us. Nate passed out early from sheer exhaustion. Before I retired to bed myself, I looked around the room at the clutter of empty food plates and loose wrapping paper. I never felt more blessed.
___________________________________________
On Sunday, we decided to spend the day celebrating as the unit we created one year ago. As a family of three.
We took Nate on his first trip to the Baltimore Zoo. He marveled at the animals and the sights. His favorite exhibit was the giraffe house. He couldn't take his eyes off of them. He was so enthralled with the long-necked creatures that we stopped by the gift shop on our way out and got him a little stuffed giraffe so he could take a piece of our safari adventure home with him. He smiled at and cuddled with it the entire way home. It was so incredibly adorable.
The amazing thing was that he was on his best behavior all day. It's as if he knew it was his special day. No temper tantrums, like he has perfected as of late. No obstinence. He was in an unusually good mood - laughing, smiling, shrieking. He didn't shed a tear at all, all day long. I'd never seen him so happy. And I don't think I could have been happier either.
I tucked him in that night and shed a few tears as I reminisced about the happenings of the last year. It's always a little sad to close a chapter. After all, we had so many good times and learned so much about each other in the past 12 months.
But like any good story, I anticipate what's to come next. It can only get better from here.
The party on Saturday can be summed up in two words: delightful chaos. While the details remain one big blur, I will attempt an account to share.
I spent most of Friday doing some last minute cleaning (windows, floors, etc.) and organizing for the party. DH got off work a little early and stopped by a local farm to pick up some hay bales as seating in the backyard. I baked Nate's smash cake, filled the favor bags and assembled the party hats and blowouts.
Saturday morning, we woke up early to pick up the guest cake at the bakery and prep the food. I set up the food table, hung the decorations and blew up balloons. I had just enough time to shower and take a deep breath before the doorbell rang at noon with the first group of arrivals.
Nate was in the middle of his morning nap at the start of the party so I was able to finish up some last minute prep and socialize while DH grilled. I received some phone calls and texts from friends and family who were stuck in traffic. Apparently, there was a 9-mile backup at the Bay Bridge and many of our guests were unable to avoid it. This meant that many of them arrived late and understandably disheveled. Our party seemed to occur in shifts. I apologized profusely out of guilt for the poor timing.
The weather was sunny. A little too sunny, in fact. The high was about 88 degrees and it was simply too hot for many guests to stay outside. So, everyone piled into our house, which dwarfed with 40 people inside. At one point, it was standing room only. I'm sure I wasn't the only one that felt like a sardine. But despite the close quarters, everyone maintained good spirits - even the youngsters.
Around 230pm, the majority of our guests had arrived and we decided to roll out the cake. Nate looked a bit nonplussed as everyone sang Happy Birthday. He wasn't sure what the big deal was. We put the cake in front of him and he picked at the fondant lettering daintily, suspicious of the contents. Being ever the evil mama, I took his hand and shoveled it into the cake. What can I say? I was desperate for a photo opp. I let him taste some of the buttercream icing off of my finger and he licked his fingers clean from the mess we made. But after that, he was through with the sweets and voiced his dissatisfaction being on display upon his throne. He would much rather play with the other kiddos that were grounded.
Once everyone had been served and indulged in their dessert, it was time to open gifts. Mommy and Daddy gave him a Fisher Price Laugh and Learn Home and Bounce and Spin Zebra. But our lucky little guy received so many other generous presents including a water table, trike, ride-on, puzzles, board books and clothes. His favorite had to be his Elmo Live from Grandma. His eyes just lit up the moment he spotted the furry red monster. The kids just about tackled each other to get closer. He was definitely the highlight of the party for the little ones.
After the last of the cards and gifts had been opened, many of our guests hit the road. Some family lingered for a while longer but by 5pm, it was back to just the three of us. Nate passed out early from sheer exhaustion. Before I retired to bed myself, I looked around the room at the clutter of empty food plates and loose wrapping paper. I never felt more blessed.
___________________________________________
On Sunday, we decided to spend the day celebrating as the unit we created one year ago. As a family of three.
We took Nate on his first trip to the Baltimore Zoo. He marveled at the animals and the sights. His favorite exhibit was the giraffe house. He couldn't take his eyes off of them. He was so enthralled with the long-necked creatures that we stopped by the gift shop on our way out and got him a little stuffed giraffe so he could take a piece of our safari adventure home with him. He smiled at and cuddled with it the entire way home. It was so incredibly adorable.
The amazing thing was that he was on his best behavior all day. It's as if he knew it was his special day. No temper tantrums, like he has perfected as of late. No obstinence. He was in an unusually good mood - laughing, smiling, shrieking. He didn't shed a tear at all, all day long. I'd never seen him so happy. And I don't think I could have been happier either.
I tucked him in that night and shed a few tears as I reminisced about the happenings of the last year. It's always a little sad to close a chapter. After all, we had so many good times and learned so much about each other in the past 12 months.
But like any good story, I anticipate what's to come next. It can only get better from here.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
On The Eve of Your Birthday
My son,
Your first birthday party has ended and as you sleep soundly in your crib, I am sitting here - surrounded by your countless gifts - with balloons, favors and trinkets strewn about. And I am reminded of how incredibly lucky I am to have you in my life. I truly believe you were handpicked from the heavens for Daddy and I. Just for us.
Tomorrow, you will be one year old. I'm in disbelief with a dash of denial. I can't imagine there was life before you. And yet, it seems like just yesterday I was giving birth to you and meeting you for the very first time. As a matter of fact, at this very moment one year ago, I was laboring at home, waiting for permission to make that fateful drive into the hospital.
There are days like today in which I soak in each minute, trying to freeze-frame it in my mind. There are things about you that will inevitably change as you grow older, but I never want to forget you right now, as is. So, in an attempt to capture these moments in time, I will document them here. These special little things I love.
You are strong. You were never a wobbly-headed newborn. You had control of your neck muscles from the get go and could lift your head well, even if you despised tummy time. You even wanted to stand holding onto our fingers at just a month old. Your legs are powerful and you love to exercise, particularly by bouncing. If you were permanently suspended by coils, you would be a happy camper.
You are the handsome, rugged type. You are adventurous. An explorer. If you can see it, you can reach it is your motto. You love to examine things, take them apart or put them together. I think you might be an engineer like your Daddy. It's in your blood.
But you are sensitive. You are in tune with the emotions of those around you. If your friend cries, you will often look sad or cry right along with them. You are empathetic.
You are a social creature. You love cuddle time with Mommy and Daddy and playdates with friends. Even though you play independently, you don't like to be left alone.
You are stubborn and resistant to change. Something you get from both Daddy and myself. It takes you a long time to warm up to new things. But once you do, you embrace it with open arms.
You are determined. You never want to settle for less. You are not afraid to speak your mind if you are unhappy about something.
You have the cutest crease that runs horizontally across your nose when your nurse. It makes me smile each time I see it.
I love when you wake up in the morning and flash me the cheesiest grin. It starts my day off right even if I'm more sleep-deprived than ever.
Your hair is as blonde as blonde can get. Almost white. It's getting a bit long in the back and it's almost starting to look like a rat tail. I love to twirl it around my fingers. And its the funniest thing when it fluffs up in the wind, making you look like Albert Einstein.
You're a thin baby but you have the sweetest fat folds in your thighs and knees. I want to kiss them and squeeze them all the time. You are ticklish in the upper part of your thighs and you let out the most insane giggle when I get you just in the right spot.
You have wide, fat feet. Like Barney Rubble. I could nibble your chunky toes.
You have hairy ears. It's light blonde hair so you can't really tell at a distance but when you nurse, I can see the fine hair on your lobes up close.
Your eyes are a beautiful, bright blue. You have Daddy's eyes and I find them striking.
You stand up in the bathtub to play at bathtime and your little white tush gleams from the water. It's such an adorable baby booty.
You smile and laugh on the boob sometimes. Some of my fondest memories of us involve you nursing, pulling off to smile while milk trickles down your lips and chin.
You can be shy around strangers and I love when you bury your head in my chest when others try to hold you.
In reviewing all of these things I love about you, I get a glimpse of the man you'll someday become. And I am so proud. But I must admit a part of me is sad to let go of my baby. You'll always and forever be "my baby" but with this milestone comes new terminology. You will henceforth be referred to as a toddler. At least for the next couple of years. And rightfully so. You have accomplished so much and deserve to don that title as you graduate to this next phase.
I am amazed at how far we've come in twelve months. And I can't wait to see what's in store for the next twelve months. And beyond.
Happy First Birthday (Eve), my Sunshine. I'll love you to the moon and back.
Your first birthday party has ended and as you sleep soundly in your crib, I am sitting here - surrounded by your countless gifts - with balloons, favors and trinkets strewn about. And I am reminded of how incredibly lucky I am to have you in my life. I truly believe you were handpicked from the heavens for Daddy and I. Just for us.
Tomorrow, you will be one year old. I'm in disbelief with a dash of denial. I can't imagine there was life before you. And yet, it seems like just yesterday I was giving birth to you and meeting you for the very first time. As a matter of fact, at this very moment one year ago, I was laboring at home, waiting for permission to make that fateful drive into the hospital.
There are days like today in which I soak in each minute, trying to freeze-frame it in my mind. There are things about you that will inevitably change as you grow older, but I never want to forget you right now, as is. So, in an attempt to capture these moments in time, I will document them here. These special little things I love.
You are strong. You were never a wobbly-headed newborn. You had control of your neck muscles from the get go and could lift your head well, even if you despised tummy time. You even wanted to stand holding onto our fingers at just a month old. Your legs are powerful and you love to exercise, particularly by bouncing. If you were permanently suspended by coils, you would be a happy camper.
You are the handsome, rugged type. You are adventurous. An explorer. If you can see it, you can reach it is your motto. You love to examine things, take them apart or put them together. I think you might be an engineer like your Daddy. It's in your blood.
But you are sensitive. You are in tune with the emotions of those around you. If your friend cries, you will often look sad or cry right along with them. You are empathetic.
You are a social creature. You love cuddle time with Mommy and Daddy and playdates with friends. Even though you play independently, you don't like to be left alone.
You are stubborn and resistant to change. Something you get from both Daddy and myself. It takes you a long time to warm up to new things. But once you do, you embrace it with open arms.
You are determined. You never want to settle for less. You are not afraid to speak your mind if you are unhappy about something.
You have the cutest crease that runs horizontally across your nose when your nurse. It makes me smile each time I see it.
I love when you wake up in the morning and flash me the cheesiest grin. It starts my day off right even if I'm more sleep-deprived than ever.
Your hair is as blonde as blonde can get. Almost white. It's getting a bit long in the back and it's almost starting to look like a rat tail. I love to twirl it around my fingers. And its the funniest thing when it fluffs up in the wind, making you look like Albert Einstein.
You're a thin baby but you have the sweetest fat folds in your thighs and knees. I want to kiss them and squeeze them all the time. You are ticklish in the upper part of your thighs and you let out the most insane giggle when I get you just in the right spot.
You have wide, fat feet. Like Barney Rubble. I could nibble your chunky toes.
You have hairy ears. It's light blonde hair so you can't really tell at a distance but when you nurse, I can see the fine hair on your lobes up close.
Your eyes are a beautiful, bright blue. You have Daddy's eyes and I find them striking.
You stand up in the bathtub to play at bathtime and your little white tush gleams from the water. It's such an adorable baby booty.
You smile and laugh on the boob sometimes. Some of my fondest memories of us involve you nursing, pulling off to smile while milk trickles down your lips and chin.
You can be shy around strangers and I love when you bury your head in my chest when others try to hold you.
In reviewing all of these things I love about you, I get a glimpse of the man you'll someday become. And I am so proud. But I must admit a part of me is sad to let go of my baby. You'll always and forever be "my baby" but with this milestone comes new terminology. You will henceforth be referred to as a toddler. At least for the next couple of years. And rightfully so. You have accomplished so much and deserve to don that title as you graduate to this next phase.
I am amazed at how far we've come in twelve months. And I can't wait to see what's in store for the next twelve months. And beyond.
Happy First Birthday (Eve), my Sunshine. I'll love you to the moon and back.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
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.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Call For Support
Remember how I mentioned in this post that I had devastating news about a friend? I wanted to elaborate because it has been on my mind everyday since then and I can't seem to shake it.
One of my dear online friends, Shauna, has a son, Christian, who is just a week younger than Nate. Christian always stood out to me because as a newborn, he and Nate could have been twins. I remember finding their resemblence uncanny. As they've gotten older, it's not as apparent but I still remember him as Nate's look-a-like.
On July 8, 2009, tragedy struck. Christian suffered a near drowning incident at their home. After an hour with little to no oxygen, it was uncertain whether he would make it. But he defied the odds. He is alive - Praise God! - but it is very likely that he has sustained a brain injury from the accident.
Christian continues to baffle the doctors with his progress. He has come much further than they ever expected. He is a fighter. There are small miracles everyday and we celebrate. But he still has a long road ahead. A questionable one as they are still testing and waiting to see the extent of his injuries. So prayers, thoughts - whatever you can spare - are very much needed and appreciated.
Shauna has set up a blog to chronicle Christian's progress, so please pay a visit and leave her some love. She is understandably feeling tremendous guilt right now and I know she could use all the well wishes she can get.
One of my dear online friends, Shauna, has a son, Christian, who is just a week younger than Nate. Christian always stood out to me because as a newborn, he and Nate could have been twins. I remember finding their resemblence uncanny. As they've gotten older, it's not as apparent but I still remember him as Nate's look-a-like.
On July 8, 2009, tragedy struck. Christian suffered a near drowning incident at their home. After an hour with little to no oxygen, it was uncertain whether he would make it. But he defied the odds. He is alive - Praise God! - but it is very likely that he has sustained a brain injury from the accident.
Christian continues to baffle the doctors with his progress. He has come much further than they ever expected. He is a fighter. There are small miracles everyday and we celebrate. But he still has a long road ahead. A questionable one as they are still testing and waiting to see the extent of his injuries. So prayers, thoughts - whatever you can spare - are very much needed and appreciated.
Shauna has set up a blog to chronicle Christian's progress, so please pay a visit and leave her some love. She is understandably feeling tremendous guilt right now and I know she could use all the well wishes she can get.
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