Feeding Babies

Warning: Don't read this post if you don't want to see the word "breastfeeding" several times.

I just thought I'd share my experience with breastfeeding Clark, because a lot of people are a little overzealous about "breast is best" and need to realize that it's not always so black and white. One of my friends here adopted her baby, some women have to go back to work right away, and for some people it just doesn't work.

 I was dead set on it from the beginning. There was just no other option in my mind. At first it was the most difficult and frustrating thing ever--all discomfort aside. Clark could NOT figure out how to latch. Isn't that supposed to come naturally? Long story short, we kept on because I was determined that this was best for us. Finally he got it, and all was well.

Fast forward three months and for whatever reason (Drs say reflux), he was done. Refused to breastfeed and arched away from me screaming every time I tried. Eventually when he was losing weight, grumpy, and starving, I decided it was more important for him to just EAT. We got a special gentle formula and instantly he was back to his normal happy self and eating plenty. But I felt so guilty, and I spent a lot of time stressing and crying about it. And a lot of that guilt came from all the rude, self-righteous comments I'd heard about women who don't breastfeed being selfish and formula being of the devil. And then all the "facts" about how kids who drink formula have lower IQs and aren't healthy. How about my formula-drinking nephew reading and solving math problems at the age of 3? Or my own kid who's just as bright as any kid his age?

Anyway, I had pretty much gotten over all the negative feelings when I went on a trip with Clark. I gave him a bottle as I waited for my flight. (Sidenote: feeding a baby in public is a lose-lose. Breastfeeding in public will surely get you some dirty looks--really people?--and bottle-feeding will win you some critical looks and comments.) A middle-aged woman came over to me and patronizingly asked, "Have you ever considered breastfeeding?" I can't believe I didn't punch her in the face or make some snarky remark like, "WHAT? My boobs can feed my baby?! I had no idea!". Instead I politely said something like, "ya, that didn't work out for us". Do I know you? It's none of your business! (And that goes for all aspects of parenting. Please people-of-the-world, enough unsolicited parenting advice to complete strangers.)

I very quickly learned to just laugh at or ignore any comments people made, but it's all just a little much. Yes, we should be educated on how important breastfeeding is, but we should also be a little more understanding about when women have to fall back on Plan B.

17 Weeks and Cinco de Mayo

Aside from the size of my belly, really not much has changed this week. I love this part: I don't feel crumby, I look pregnant instead of just bloated, and am still not so big that it's hard to be comfortable. I also really love getting to feel little baby movements. I'm excited for how wild things are gonna get in there with two!

I'll even be so kind as to include my dainty profile this time ("yes, we've all got daddy's mommy's nose"):

It's nice when you're unloading groceries and remember you bought yourself a donut. And wearing pants that look like you forgot to wear pants from far away. 

 And here's the yummy Cinco de Mayo dinner Jacob made for us. We also celebrated by attending church and going to bed at 10 PM.

Clark loves our post-church photo shoots

Vain Sidenote: I HATE my hair right now. The "pixie" grew out so, so bad. Any suggestions?

Part Two

I guess I feel like my blog hasn't been embarrassing/juicy/revealing enough lately. So, I bring you the much-anticipated...
Confessions, Part 2

1. I spend a lot of time doing full blown interpretive dances to the corny jingles that come out of Clark's swing. It keeps us both entertained for at least 15 minutes at a time and is a pretty good work out.

2. The other day I was trying to use a computer at the library and couldn't get it to log in. Turns out instead of my card number, I was typing in the library's phone number printed at the top of the card. Over, and over, and over again.

3. I have a very wild, irrational imagination so I freak myself out all the time. Once at a sleepover, I was sure that someone trying to break into our friend's house so I convinced Olivia to hide in the bathroom with me for over an hour, heated hair styling tools at the ready. (This is why I cannot watch scary movies).

4. Lots of people think or have thought I hate them (this is ironic since I can't think of even a single person I strongly dislike). I attribute it it to one or a combination of three things: a) I have a naturally "sour" countenance. My out-of-it face looks a lot like a you're-the-worst face. b) I'm a little shy and a lot socially awkward, especially in big groups. c) I have a pretty dry sense of humor. So if you don't know me very well and think I don't like you, I do. Let's be friends.

5. My favorite Olympic gymnast was the Russian girl with really beautiful ballerina legs. I'm such a traitor.

Now, feel free to share some deep secrets with me.

lessons

Last week was rough. I won't get into all the boring details; babies just have lots of issues that they can't explain to you, and there's nothing more upsetting or frustrating than seeing your kid suffer and not knowing why or how to fix it. And not having hot water all week was the cherry on top. But the real purpose of this is to remind myself of all the good thoughts and insights I got from church yesterday and while taking a walk today:

* Stop praying that he'll take all the hard things away, stop the pain, change the situation and instead pray for him to change me, to give me strength to get through the hard stuff and develop a better attitude.

* Stop feeling sorry for myself and do something! Even if it's awkward and scary, I need to put myself out there and find ways to serve people.

*Ether 12:27  "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their ^aweakness. I ^bgive unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my ^cgrace is sufficient for all men that ^dhumble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make ^eweak things become strong unto them."

* Quit doubting my ability to be a good mom. I stress way too much about all the tiny details of what parenting style is best and end up going back and forth about things that won't even matter in the long run. What he really needs is love, consistency, and confident parents he can rely on.

* I went into this role with the wrong attitude. As bad as it sounds, I was trying to make the baby's impact on my life as small as possible (i.e. let's get him to sleep through the night ASAP). And while helping him get into good habits is a good goal, it should not be the focus. I mean, how stupid to have a kid just to try to minimize his existence. He's a gift, not a burden!

I guess now I sound like a terrible person, but I promise all these negative things only come out in my weaker moments (all of last week). So much opportunity for growth!

Advice?

 

I should preface this by saying that I love my baby more than I ever knew I could, and most of the time I feel like the luckiest person. But I'd be lying if I said that I was thoroughly enjoying being a stay-at-home mom. I'm just so used to working or being in school or both that it's really hard not to feel a bit useless even though this is maybe the hardest thing I've ever done. I'm content/happy on days when I stay really busy running errands and stuff. Then on days like today, when I can't think of anywhere I need to go, I just feel so blehh and wonder if I'm cut out for this. I don't think it would necessarily be a bad thing if I'm not, but this is what I've always wanted to be. I'm sure to a lot of people it seemed like a pretty pathetic dream next to all the future doctors and astronauts or whatever, but it's just what I genuinely wanted to do.

So now I'll cut to the chase. I'm giving anyone and everyone permission to preach to me, because I truly want to know: How can I enjoy the day to day more? How can I feel like I'm not doing absolutely nothing just because I don't see the fruits of my labors right away? What kind of things can I do to keep myself busy/sane? (I don't think it helps that we have NO friends or family near by). I think I'm just really bad at the whole "finding joy in the journey" thing. I'm always trying to get to the next step. I don't want to be that way, I'm just not sure how to change my attitude. So help me out all you smart, experienced people!

The After Party

Continued from here.

For my whole life, whenever I thought about giving birth, I only imagined it up to the part where I get the baby. All the labor stuff made me a little nervous, but then once they hand you the baby it's happily ever after. Wrong. I was so wrong. One too many romantic comedies or episodes of "A Baby Story" I guess.

Much to my surprise, birthing baby was the easy part. Then there was shaking uncontrollably, a fever and chills, wearing a diaper (which goes along with a whole world of unpleasant stuff that I won't get into), painful failed attempts to breastfeed, and passing out when the nurses tried to take me to the bathroom--I guess I had lost a bit too much blood right at first. Most of all I was more exhausted than I'd ever been in my life. All I wanted to do was sleep, but nurses kept coming in to check my whatever and push really hard on my stomach. Hi, I just had a baby.. that hurts! And then it took me about a week before I could walk without hunching over and feeling like I was going to pass out.

But the really worst part was probably the emotional roller coaster they call "baby blues". It's such a happy, exciting time but also really scary and overwhelming. Add crazy hormonal imbalance, and it's a mess. I would burst into tears over the tiniest things and sometimes for absolutely no reason at all. I wasn't at all interested in anything that I usually love (food, reality TV, Pinterest). And the very worst of all was every evening when the anxiety would hit. Even though I was dead tired those first few nights, I couldn't sleep because of the awful, unshakable anxiety. If you've ever had a moment where you're scared for your life, and your heart's beating out of your chest, that's how I felt ALL. NIGHT. LONG. But each day it got a little better, and I cried a little less. I'm incredibly grateful that it was temporary and didn't develop into full-blown PPD. I  have a lot more empathy now for anyone who deals with that or any kind of anxiety/depression.

So now it sounds like it was all just the worst experience ever. Parts of it were. But there were moments in that first really, really hard week that were the best ever. Like falling asleep to general conference with my baby boy curled up on my chest. Or seeing Jacob instantly become the best dad ever. Or when he would sit right by my hospital bed during those long anxiety-filled nights, hold my hand, and tell me we could take turns staying awake if it would help me feel better. And all of this making me realize that God knows me so well that he gave me a husband who is more perfect for me than I ever could have known. Seriously, if I wasn't married to someone so helpful and involved, I would have lost it! I also would have lost it without my mom there the first week to be my slave, answer my worried-new-mom questions, and get me out of the house, even though I had to use one of the motorized shopping carts for old folks.

At first I felt a little guilty for not being euphoric every moment of every day. It felt like every new mom in the world felt that way while I kept thinking "Is this really the rest of my life?"  "Will I ever get dressed again?" "Will I ever sleep again?" And while I'm beyond grateful, I think it's OK to feel overwhelmed and even sad sometimes. This is a huge change and so physically and emotionally draining.

Luckily, things are already so much better. We are starting to get into a groove that works for us, and I'm becoming a tiny bit more confident every day. The crazy postpartum hormones are waning, we're all getting more sleep, and I've even showered and gotten dressed a few times. The good moments are definitely outweighing the bad, and we love our little guy more than anything.

Labor and Delivery

I've been putting off writing about the whole experience of going into labor and giving birth because I know it's going to take a while, and free time is very precious these days! But I know I'm going to want to remember all the details someday so I should write about it before I forget everything.

So Wednesday March 28 was my due date which came and went as I expected it to. We kept telling the baby to wait and come on Thursday or Friday since my mom was flying in on Thursday; we didn't want him to come before then, but we also didn't want her to have to be waiting around for a week. Well, I guess the kid is pretty obedient.

On Thursday morning I had my weekly checkup with the OB. I was about 3 cm dilated, but had been for weeks so nothing too promising.  She said she could strip my membranes (ya, it's about as pleasant as it sounds) which can sometimes get things moving, and I figured it was worth a shot. Right after my appointment Jacob and I went to pick my mom up from the airport. I noticed that my contractions were a little more painful/intense than Braxton Hicks, but I knew that could go on for days or that I might just be "crampy" from the membrane-stripping business.

For the rest of the day I tried to get stuff done, but kept getting distracted by the contractions, timing them, and hoping they would get closer together. No such luck. I was determined to go into for real labor so I made my mom go on a pretty long uphill walk to campus with me. That seemed to make the contractions a little more intense.

That night we went to bed around 10:30. By 11, I was waking up every time I had a contraction but tried to sleep through it. As soon as sleep was impossible, I went into the bathroom to start timing them on the "Contraction Ap" Jacob downloaded onto our tablet. I REALLY didn't want to be one of those people that goes to the hospital and gets sent home, so I waited for an hour until the pain was getting pretty intense about every 3 minutes. I had to take a bath about halfway through to calm myself down (is this really happening?!) and try to ease the pain.

At 12:45 I woke up Jacob and told him I thought maybe we should go to the hospital but I wasn't quite sure.  I called my mom and asked if the pain should be absolutely unbearable if I was actually in labor and she said no, so we decided to just go for it.

1:20 AM we arrived at the hospital where, to my dismay, I was told I would have to be monitored for an hour to see if I was really in labor before I got admitted. The nurse later told me she thought for sure she'd be sending me home because I was so "stoic".Me? Ha. Anyhow, that was the longest hour ever. I tried to stay distracted by playing Draw Something and sucking on ice cubes, but every few minutes I had to just stop and take deep breaths until the contraction passed. Not helpful-- Mom and Jacob watching the monitor and saying "Woah! That's a big one!" every time I had an especially painful one. Uh yes, I can feel it!

not a happy camper

So by 2:30 I had made progress (to 5 cm, I think) and was admitted! She asked if I would want the epidural right away. I absolutely did. That was the part I had been most scared of, but at this point I was so over the labor pains. Jacob had to leave the room for this part since he doesn't do well with needles, but my mom stayed with me and talked to me the whole time to keep me from getting nervous. And what do you know? It was completely painless!  After that, we all tried to get some sleep. I made very little progress in the next hour which was discouraging. But then sometime between 4 and 5 my water broke, and things took off from there. I was too excited to sleep after that.

Around 7 AM I was fully dilated so they called my doctor. She arrived around 7:20 and it was time to start pushing. I was so ready to meet this little guy and so determined to get him out without giving him a cone head! After being up all night, I didn't have much energy left but I used every bit of it to push. I had no idea if I was doing anything at all since I couldn't feel it, but everyone just kept encouraging me, and we got that guy out in 20 minutes. I  was sure seeing a child come out of me would be the most miraculous, tender moment ever, but it was really just so weird.

BUT it was sweet to get to hold him after he was all cleaned off especially since he stopped crying right when they gave him to me. And I felt so grateful for how smoothly everything went and for my healthy, beautiful baby.

"E.T. phone home"

To be continued...