I’d like to go on record that I think Bean now weighs at least 10.5 pounds and more likely 11. Husband and I have a bet (though we haven’t decided exactly what to wager on), and he thinks she’s still less than that. Her last weigh-in was two weeks ago, and she was nine pounds exactly. Her body is so much more substantial (I notice it in her hands especially, which are much larger and more controlled in movement), now that she is eating larger meals. Her intake has increased 2-3 ounces per day as well. It’s so good to see her thrive — not that she wasn’t before, but it seemed more arduous because of the colic. I’m not ready to declare that the colic is outgrown yet, but we’ve made great progress.

I just went down to say goodnight (and listen to Husband tell me some good news about his job), and when Bean saw me (she’d just finished a good meal), she was all grins and joy. Her eyes lit up, and she cooed at me. I kissed her belly. All my frustrations from today, any resentment, any guilt, it all faded. She’s so cute. My little Bean…

And now, as I write this, I hear her wailing. *sigh* I wonder where she gets all that fire from?

There are things you
do because they feel
right & they may
make no sense & they
may make no money
& it may be the real
reason we are here:
to love each other &
to eat each other’s
cooking & say it was
good.

—Storypeople

Did babee taste like cheezburger? No?

A little Wednesday morning humor. We’re off to the pediatrician in a few minutes.

Husband returns to work today. It’s just me and Bean until the evening.

I emailed some friends asking them to help out by visiting me a couple hours during the day in the next couple of weeks. It will give me company, or a break for a shower or something. Their response has been supportive. For this week, one person is coming over to visit each weekday. That’s comforting.

Eeek! I’m on my own. It feels like I’m truly stepping into motherhood in a way I haven’t yet because someone else has always been around. Suddenly I’m in charge of the store. It’s all me. I feel a tad giddy.
—-
I must remember that when I hear about “normal” sleep routines for infants, they are talking about non-colicky children. Husband and I are gradually moving toward a going-to-sleep routine for her, but right now her sleep time is all over the clock. There is a kind of rhythm, but it shifts daily back and forth a bit (i.e., one morning she awakes at 5:45 hungry, another at 6:30). Her afternoons and evenings (until about 10 p.m.) are the worst. Lots of squalling interrupted by fitful catnaps in our arms. Sometimes she gives distinct hunger cues and we provide a bottle, only to see her take one ounce. But when your child is screaming and giving cues that look like hunger, and it’s been at least two hours since the last meal, what else to do? Dr. Spock’s book (given to me by a cousin) mentions that sometimes colicky babies can’t tell the difference between hunger pangs and stomach/colic pain. Oy.

(By the way, someone asked if I was breastfeeding. I started out trying and she got colostrum and a little milk. However, my milk never really came in despite putting her on my breast, using a Supplemental Nursing System, and pumping every two hours for many days. What little I had dried up; I never engorged, I never let down. Meanwhile we had to supplement with formula to keep her from starving; by day 12 after her birth, I made peace with this.)

We did have a lovely day up until about 1:30 p.m. yesterday. She was quite cheerful, in fact. She also had some cheerful moments in the evening just shortly after eating her small meal, before remembering to fuss again.

Well, it’s time for the Mommy show!

All the world’s a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed.

–Sean O’Casey

This post has been updated with a photo of me and Bean (in profile) below. (I don’t post photos of Husband on the blog.)

I’ve got one new photo up of Hurricane Bean in addition to the one below. After several days of long crying bouts and obvious tummy pain, we help Bean catch sleep where and when she can. The photo is how she has spent much of Saturday afternoon — on the Daddy Divan.

I’m providing a link to it, though since it’s categorized for friends and family, if you’re not a Flickr member with that status, you might not be able to see it.

But give it a try: here.

I gotta say, colic throws all hope of a routine or schedule haywire at a time when they are most needed. I’m not a fan of CIO (Cry It Out — hell, I can barely tolerate my baby’s cry), but I’m also sick of the guilt trip I feel when I read anything by the Attachment Parenting Terrorists. (That is not my term but I love it; I’ll let the person who coined it claim credit in the comments. Per the suggestion of said person, I’ve stopped reading their material.) Our doctor has said the baby is too young for sleep training, but that’s not what we want to do. We’ve needed guidance on how to ease this child into the sleep she so desperately, clearly needs. As I sorted through handouts from the class we took at our medical center, I came across a list of suggestions that seem helpful.

At the yarn store the other day, I commented on how she will not permit herself to be put down for very long. Someone said, “Why would you want to put your baby down? Why wouldn’t you want to hold and carry her?” I replied that sometimes you gotta answer the call of nature, or geeze, maybe eat something. The reply came, “Well when she’s a toddler and going through separation anxiety you won’t be able to go to the bathroom alone anyway!” That’s not the point. Since Bean fights the Infantino carrier and the Moby wrap, I can’t wear her as I’d intended. I really resent the implication in that question that I’m an unloving parent simply because I don’t want to hold my child 24 hours a day every day. It’s not just that I don’t want to — it’s also physically unfeasible. So if you’re inclined to think this way and judge me, do us all a favor and shut up already.

My mother-in-law called; she just returned at 11 p.m. yesterday from a trip to China. She wasted no time telling me she’ll come back to help out if I want her to. We may just take her offer!

I want to tell you how the past couple of days have been, but I don’t know how much detail you want about my daughter’s poop.

Let’s just say that we’ve tried three new, different formulas. One of them seems to have helped. We had one good day, and then it all went to hell yesterday afternoon and evening. We think it’s one of the formulas that upset her stomach, so we’re back to the one we used on the day she seemed better. Wouldn’t you know, it’s the one that is twice as expensive as all the other formulas on the market. Forget saving for college! We need to feed her first.

We’ve changed several things in her routine, however, so we aren’t sure which variable is working. I was probably overdoing interaction with her. She seemed hyper-alert and to fight sleeping — a sign that she was overtired. Karen very kindly shared her wisdom via phone, and she made the point that simple consciousness is quite a lot of stimulation for babies. So we’ve spent the past few days mostly in her room. We feed her there, play with her a little, and rock her to sleep, and often sit for hours while she sleeps on us. Sometimes we put her in the crib and she’ll stay asleep for an hour or two. Other times she wakes within five minutes. We’ve taken her out on one errand and on a walk, but we’re trying to control the environment a bit more. She is, after all, only five weeks old.

I tried the Moby Wrap with her, but she’s having none of that! At least, not at this age. Maybe once she can support her head it will work. The Miracle Blanket (swaddle) has helped some, but unless she’s really exhausted and stressed, she kicks her legs out. This child is just so changeable, it’s difficult to know what will work. What helps one day doesn’t the next, or even within the same day.

Everyone’s comments on the last post have been most helpful, especially the reassurance from those who have walked this path before.

[Via Emy. Thanks for pointing the way!]

After deliberating several days, Husband and I decided to extend his leave one more week. We have a few appointments this week anyway. My back has also improved, and this does much to increase my confidence. (Husband’s backache went away the day after he got it, thankfully.) I know I’ve got to face being on my own. Everyone’s feedback on the last post has been heartening. This week Husband and I will do a “trial run” of the schedule we’ve agreed to handle. (Not that Bean can be scheduled, but we’ve decided which of us is “on duty” with her at various points of the day and will implement that schedule this week.)

We had a really rough day with Bean two days ago. Around noon she ate, after which she cried hard on and off for the next eleven hours. She exhibited hunger signs every two hours but would only eat an ounce at a time, and she was super alert and would not nap at all. Finally at one point (the 11 p.m. meal), Husband changed the position to burp her and she let out three huge belches. (We often laugh at the size of the sound emanating from her little body.) After that she was cheerful and ate two more ounces. Saturday she ate heartily and we vigorously burped eery time. So it seems as though we need to be more aggressive burping her. We’ve also started to keep her swaddled while feeding her, and this seems to keep her more calm.

To that end, we ordered The Miracle Blanket (as the Kiddopotamus SwaddleMe doesn’t quite work for me as well as they do for Husband). I also ordered a Moby Wrap, which I hope Bean will accept being carried in. She often won’t sleep very long alone in her crib. She loves her big swing and will sleep in it, but it’s not suitable for leaving her alone, and it’s too big to be portable in the house. She’ll accept the vibrating bouncer, but only for short periods of about 20 minutes. She’s a very particular child! After her difficult day Friday, I spent 3.5 hours of Saturday morning holding her in the rocker as she slept (poor baby was so exhausted she had big bags under her eyes), with only a couple of minutes spent dashing to the bathroom and to get a mug of brewed coffee. I’m learning how to eat and drink one-handed.

Other minor things… While it doesn’t guarantee protection, I felt an urgency about getting a flu shot, and I did get out alone to Costco Friday and received it for $20. And then, treat of treats!, I also got a haircut. Nothing fancy — I’m a Supercuts sort of gal. It just felt so pleasing to get out alone and get it done. ~ I picked up a scarf I stopped knitting back in May. My hands didn’t go numb or tingle in the five minutes I knitted, so I’m optimistic. Knitting simple things will be a relaxing way to pass time; anymore I’m too scattered to read very long, but I want something in my hands when they aren’t full of a baby. ~ I’m behind on email, as usual. However, my power cord in the living room is wonky. Something punctured the casing and exposed the wire. I discovered this when I picked it up to examine what looked like a dirt spot on it and a spark flew out. It got unplugged from the wall immediately, and now the laptop lives mostly in the office.

This is not much of a post — it’s more a diary entry, filled with the mundane. Hope your weekend has been a good one.

Husband is scheduled to return to work on Monday the 15th. He has two remaining weeks of family parental leave that he could use, though we have a whole year to do that. He wanted to save them for “in case” — in case I get the flu, or something major comes up that requires his daily 24/7 presence.

And I’m resisting this, clinging to him. My back is still injured — some days are better than others, some movements are riskier than others. I can’t imagine being on my own with this child all day, five days a week. I’m up alone with her until noon-ish as it is, and the relief I feel when he wakes up (he’s not a slacker, he doesn’t get to sleep until 5 a.m.) is huge. When he returns to work, I’ll still be up with her at 5:30 a.m. He’ll go to work around 9:30 a.m., but he won’t get home until 7:00 p.m.. Holy hell! How am I going to entertain her/get a shower/coordinate an evening meal/get out of the house/do laundry without someone else around at least part of the day (during daylight hours)? She’s more alert now, awake for longer periods, but her attention span is short, and this means changing up our play every few minutes: a crinkly toy, followed by the baby gym, then a book read, then a rattle, then some holding and rocking. She lets me know when she wants a change or has had enough by crying. Keeping a baby occupied is more challenging than one would think.

In a fundamental way my life hasn’t changed. I can still sit on the sofa with the laptop while Pixie sleeps in the swing (a preferred place for napping). I tended to be a homebody before she was born, and I wasn’t much of a housekeeper or chef. Yet now I have this idea that I should be doing tasks I formerly let slide. Moreover, it’s the idea that I can no longer go anywhere (in the house or outside) without considering someone else’s safety and well-being that daunts me.

We need to discuss and decide before Friday. I know he needs to return to work, and that he wants to. Last night I went out with her alone and drove to the local yarn store to visit. (I was nervous about going out by myself and while successful, I felt a little stressed when I returned home.) You know, I had this idea that because I’m in my mid-40s, I’d be a confident, mellow mother, all centered and Mother Earth, yadayadayada — y’know, a grown-up. That has proved to be completely false.

The world is round; it has no point.

–Adrienne E. Gusoff

A couple new photos of Princess Pixie are up at Flickr. One features a grin!

Yesterday at the doctor she weighed in at 8 pounds, 7 ounces; two weeks ago she was 7 pounds, 15 ounces. She’s still pretty small (in the 32nd percentile). But she is gaining, and that’s all that matters.

Today, she devoured 4.5 ounces at her 9:15 a.m. meal — the biggest amount yet. Maybe she’s revving up for a growth spurt? Some days she snacks, other days she’s ravenous. That meal was so big she is still asleep over three hours later.

I got my first very tentative smile today!! I fed Bean at 9:45 a.m. She ate 3.25 ounces. Then I changed her. After, I held her in my arms and made mouth noises: clicking sounds with my tongue, “S” sounds, popping my lips. She stared at me, fascinated, and then I smiled and cooed at her. Her lips curled up in a slight smile for a second! Then I praised her with a happy voice and made more mouth noises. Then I smiled at her again, and she again returned with the briefest little grin. I swaddled her after this and put her in the swing, where she is sleepily swaying back and forth.

Yesterday she was fussy, fussy, fussy all afternoon. That’s Husband’s “shift” so to speak. I hope she gives him this little reward today.

One serving a day if I feel like it. (And I nearly always do.)

More Bean photos up at Flickr…

I suppose the novelty of this wears off at some point. But she changes so much so quickly! At her doctor visit on Monday, she weighed 7 lbs., 15 oz. and had grown half an inch since birth. By now I’ll bet she’s over 8 pounds. It certainly feels that way when I hold her. 🙂

It begins already: the doubt, the questioning whether I am doing something wrong, the anxiety.

They say that it’s important to help one’s baby learn to fall asleep on her own. They say to put children in bed when they are still awake, and they will learn to self-soothe into sleep and more quickly sleep through the night. Who are They? The book guides to a child’s first year, the pediatrician’s advice on the pamphlet given at the office visit, the websites.

My baby loves to be held. She falls asleep in my or Husband’s arms, and then if we are careful to gently put her in bed, she will usually stay asleep. If we put her down when she’s alert, or even sleepy and dozing, she awakens and fusses. So already I feel anxiety that we are setting ourselves up for frustration and failure, that our child will not learn to sleep on her own.

But she’s only 17 days old, for cryin’ out loud! I can’t leave her to “cry until she settles.” After a few minutes (no more than five) we pick her up. The world is huge. We can only imagine she needs comfort and security.

Also, since last Thursday her head has been congested. She had no fever. The doctor advised us yesterday to put saline drops in her nose prior to each feeding to make it easier to eat, and also to put in drops before a long nap. In addition, we elevated one end of her bed so her head is slightly higher and can drain more easily. Her respiratory rate is at the high end of normal (55-60 breaths a minute), and she is so very small. It’s hard for her to breathe.

Bean is particular. When she is awake, just after eating and changing, she wants to be held in different positions and to see different things. She communicates clearly when she’s bored and it’s time for a change by fussing and crying. Sometimes she enjoys the bouncer or swing, but most often it’s our arms she wants to be in. And it takes time to get her to settle down into sleep; this baby does not take after her father in sleep, she’s a light sleeper like me.

I’m not worried I’m spoiling her. I’m just worried I’m doing something that will set up a habit we have difficulty changing. I’m also worried about my own wants and needs and feel guilty for having them. But how can I eat, shower, etc. with her in my arms?

And to be honest, I’m scared. I was up this morning at 4:30 a.m. By 10:00 a.m., after three feedings, several diaper changes, two brief naps (hers), lots of holding and singing, I cried.

Because her need is relentless. How am I going to meet it, all day every day? How am I going to function once Husband returns to work?

And how will I make peace with her crying? I find that almost unbearable. Yet I also know that’s how babies communicate; it’s their only language. And that crying won’t damage them. And that rushing to stop the crying, especially when I’m driven by anxiety, while it feels like a loving act, also sends a subtle message: Hush. Be quiet. Expression is not acceptable.

I need a tougher heart.

[A side note: Empathy and suggestions are welcome, but please, no strident positions. We are not doing the family bed. We aren’t steeped in attachment parenting philosophy, but neither are we rigid and attempting to structure her life as suggested by the likes of Gary Ezzo (with whom I disagree on so many levels).]

This post has been updated.

More Bean photos are up for friends and family at Flickr.

My life is managed now in small chunks of time.

5:00 a.m.: Bean awakes and I feed her.
6:00 a.m.: Done feeding, change the diaper, have a little interaction, try to let her sleep again. Use the secret weapon if needed, so I can get my coffee, peanut butter toast, and glass of milk.
7:00 a.m.: Bean stirs awake again and is hungry. Feed her, change her, play with her, lull to sleep again.
8:00 a.m.: Use the bathroom, get dressed. Write one thank-you note.
9:00 a.m.: Feed the baby, change the baby, play with the baby, put the baby down for a nap.

And if need be, put down the half-eaten toast, abandon the coffee, and set the pen aside if she is fussy and requires some TLC.

Lather, rinse, repeat. Husband participates as well, of course. We’re working on a sleep system. The doctor approved us letting Bean sleep for one five-hour span each 24 hours. She seems inclined to do this from around 1 to 6 a.m. or so, and we’re cultivating this habit. I go to sleep at 9:30-10:00 p.m. (and hopefully fall asleep, which can be hard for me) and arise at 5-6 a.m. when Bean awakes. Husband does the 10 p.m. and 1 a.m. feeding and puts her to bed, then he sleeps until about 9 a.m. This way each of us gets 6-8 hours of sleep a night.* This suits his work schedule and sleep habits as well, so we can continue this when he returns to work. I, on the other hand, am a night owl who is learning about an entirely different world that revives in the early morning. As long as I’m rested, I actually don’t mind getting up that early. Good thing, too, because that’s my job!

Grandma (Husband’s mom) left this morning. It was wonderful to have her assistance and to introduce her to Bean. I was sad at her departure. Yet I’m also ready to move forward with building our daily family life, and Grandma will return anytime we ask.

By the way, I neglected to mention this before, but Husband is an awesome man. He’s so loving to Bean and me, and his support of me throughout the labor, birth, and aftermath was steady, patient, and nurturing. I’m learning a new aspect of him, as I’m sure he is with me, as we settle into our life with Bean.

Update: *Of course, as soon as I wrote this post I was proven wrong. She awoke at 3:30 a.m. voraciously hungry. We’re still up and it’s 5:00 a.m. Every day is different; never boring!

Update: The title of this post has been changed from Dispatch #1 From Motherland at the suggestion of my sister-in-law, L. Excellent idea, my dear!

Things I have learned:

• I’m still not ready to visit via phone (I can’t believe I’m so loved by so many), so it’s not personal and I’m not ignoring you. I am depleted and need to give what I have to the one little being who needs me most. In-person visits from select friends are brief and usually involve bringing food or running errands. The only person I want now is my Mommy to talk to (and we do). (And it’s easier to steal a few moments to quietly write my thoughts to share here.)
• The last ten days have been the hardest of my life so far.
• My mother-in-law’s presence has been a blessing and I will be ever grateful for this.
• I have never experienced the present so immediately, relentlessly, and urgently. There is no time to think about past or future.
• I’m hopelessly far behind in reading other people’s blogs and worry that this makes me a “bad blog friend,” because I’m not as interested in what y’all are doing and writing about and don’t know if I ever will be again. But this is not a primary worry. I just want to let you know I still care.
• The cat is not overly curious about Bean, but is vocal about her desire for attention (Pet me, I beg you!).
• Feeding the baby with a supplemental system plus pumping after every feed to stimulate milk production as often as required feels like getting ready to go to the airport eight (or more) times a day. It’s exhausting.
• I’m aware that even a century ago my labor likely would have resulted in my and/or Bean’s death (pre C-section era). Same with the feeding problem (my body is not producing). I’m thankful for scientific and medical technology.
• As events, projectile baby spit-ups rival Old Faithful in performance.
• Sometimes the body can’t provide all that is needed.
• Mommy’s well-being (especially mental health) may be more important than providing breast milk. I am coming to terms with this.
• Babies have prolific digestive systems, and I think about poop far more than I ever thought I would.
• Bean has a sweet disposition and is very alert and interested. (Of course, by writing this I have jinxed myself, and the People in Charge of Irony will cause me to repent my hubris.)
• She utters little Cindy Lou Who coos that make my heart clench in adoration.
• The place where Bean’s earlobe meets her head is so tender and kissable.
• As is the nape of her neck.
• The incredible lightness of her being makes me love her so hard it hurts.

I’m making an exception to my “no baby photos on the blog” rule.