1 Mother 2 Another

My recent blog on the whole birth experience started me thinking back on the recovery part a bit more. These days, someone says to me, “Oh, you had a c-section? How was it?”

And I smile and say, “Oh, it wasn’t so bad, really. Not bad at all.”

And my husband looks at me as if to say, “Woman, are you CRAZY? Do you not REMEMBER???”

And the truth is, no, I don’t, fully. I’ve blocked the bad bits out.

But when I dig deep and force myself to go back through those memories, I have to admit, yes, it was bad. And at the same time, not so bad. C-sections are terrifying; you’re having major surgery and then are immediately expected to care for a newborn! And the whole recovery thing is often glossed over by the doctor; they’ll go into graphic detail on the fantastic method they use of closing your incision, but talking about recovery will simply say, “The first week will be bad.”

Bad as in how? Bad as in 80’s hairstyle-bad? Or bad as in repeatedly run over by a truck bad?

First off, I have to say that somewhere out there a guy googled those keywords in the title and was vastly disappointed to arrive at my website.

Now to the blog –

As I mentioned before, Maddie spent the weekend running around in just a diaper while Mommy and Daddy watched her spots spread. It was good times for everyone, I say with only a slight bit of sarcasm, and Madeleine especially enjoyed the freedom and undivided attention.

So the first night Maddie had a fever (see previous blog) she woke up a couple times in the night.

And may I just say, getting up at night is way harder once you’ve experienced an uninterrupted night’s sleep.

Maddie’s sleep problems (I’m pretty sure I spent a good month talking about them) seemed to resolve around 11 months, and we’ve had almost a couple months of luxurious nights with Madeleine not getting up until at least 6 a.m. Let me tell you, I could get used to it. In fact, I did.

Going to bed the first night Maddie had a fever I knew she’d probably get up and I vowed not to be angry. I promised my husband I’d try very hard not to take it out on him, to which he responded with a skeptical and jaded roll of the eyes. I was prepared to forgive everyone for an interrupted night.

Everyone, that is, except the cat.

Madeleine’s achieved another milestone –

Her first
illness.

I’m shamefacedly admitting that Madeleine is over a year
old and has never been sick. Not because it makes us bad parents or
anything, but because I know all you folks out there who have
experienced the trauma of a sick child don't want to hear any bragging
like that. We’re pretty happy with her health record- not looking
forward to vomiting and diarrhea and sleepless nights – and were hoping
to continue the streak a bit longer.

And we sort of can, but sort
of can’t.

 This week’s poll is up and running! I want to know: how often did you
call your pediatrician in the early days? Did you talk only at
well-baby visits? Call around once a month with a new parent question?
Are you on a first-name basis by now? I want to know! And FYI –
there’s no right answer. Pediatricians are used to hearing from anxious
new parents, so don't be embarrassed.

As always, you don’t need
to be a registered user to vote; simply click and submit to have your
voice heard! The poll’s up all week on the right-hand side of the page,
just below my navigation buttons.

The results of last week’s poll are in, and this has to be the most evenly-voted poll yet!

I was interested in hearing how you all dealt with that newborn fussiness, and every item I listed was voted for pretty consistently; there was no clear winner.

What does this mean?

It means when you’re desperate, you’ll try anything, and no amount of baby gear is too much if it buys you five minutes of peace.

“American Baby” recently published a good
article summarizing three different “methods” of parenting and
dealing with the sleep issue: co-sleeping, scheduling, and
self-soothing. It’s up on their website now, and is a decent look at all
three ideas.

My girlfriend Bev was interviewed for the
co-sleeping part of the article. Her family is a fantastic example of
how attachment parenting works for some people. And for the record, her
son Danny is almost 2 years old now, and moved to his own bed recently
with no problem.

I wouldn’t be, well, me if I didn’t weigh in on
the article’s three methods, so here goes. 

Summer is officially here, and Madeleine’s discovering the joy of water.

I’ve been wanting to get her into swim classes at the YMCA (might as well put that monthly membership fee to good use!) for a while now, but it occurred to me that I might simply take her into the pool on my own, and save myself a bit of embarrassment if she screamed like a banshee when entering the water for the first time.

So I planned carefully (shocking, I know) the day I would take her to the pool for the first time.  Baby swim cap (required by the gym) purchased?  Check.  Baby swim suit, and swim diaper purchased?  Check.  Swimsuit for mommy tried on to make sure mommy won’t weep in the locker room?  Check.  I picked a day when I wasn’t working later, in case it was traumatic.  I knew it’d be a tight fit, getting to the gym for Family Swim Time (the only time they allow people under 18 into the pool outside of a class) because Maddie’s nap runs pretty close to it, and then comes lunch.  So while she napped I had her lunch all made, swimsuit laid out, bag packed, ready to go.

Well, life happens, and one super-long nap, ill-fitting diaper, parking-spot-stealer, and line-to-check-into-the-gym jumper later, we were in the locker room with a mere five minutes left on Family Swim Time.  I crammed our gear into the locker and raced to the obligatory pre-swim shower.

Mistake number one:  not introducing Madeleine to a shower before this point.

Ok, remember how I said I had a weaning
plan ?

New plan, for a couple of reasons.

On
the introducing cow’s milk front, I was having no luck last week. I was
offering it before, during and after a meal, either in a straw cup or a
“grown-up” cup. I offered it cold, not wanting her to expect Mommy to be
heating her milk every day for the next seven years. She’d take a few
sips, grimace, and that was it for the rest of the time period.

I
then tried offering it cold, in a bottle, right before a traditional
nursing time. I thought she’d be sleepy, used to drinking white stuff
from a bottle . . . and just putting it in a bottle was a compromise for
me, let me tell you. I’m reluctant to get her associating cow’s milk
with a bottle – she only takes two bottles a week as it is, and I’m not
too keen on keeping her on a bottle at this age anyway. But I thought it
was worth a shot.

Alas, it was not. 

Brian received a bittersweet gift on Father’s Day.

Madeleine
started walking.

She began cruising – walking around holding on
to furniture or people – since she was 8 ½ months old. And at the end
of May she began taking tentative steps on her own – two or three at a
time – and standing without holding on to anything. We counted that as
her first step, but not as walking. See, she’d only walk unassisted if
she didn’t realize she was doing it; it was more of a cutting-corners
sort of thing than a deliberate attempt to get somewhere unaided.

Sunday,
though, she kicked it into high gear.

This week’s poll is in honor of all my girlfriends who are expecting
their first this year.

Not their first baby.

Their first
experience with colic.

I know, I know, it’s not a medical term.
And I know that many kids who seem to have colic actually have acid
reflux or an allergy to something in mom’s milk. But for the moms who
had the good ole fussy-for-two-hours-a-day baby, fill us in on what
worked for you.

Did you drive around endlessly? Run a white
noise machine, or hair dryer, or shower? Wear the baby? If you had
more than one thing that worked for you, please vote more than once.
And if I don’t list your particular magic bullet, PLEASE write to me and
let me know so I can pass it on to everyone!

And if you click
“My baby never had colic”, please know that we’ll all hate you. Just a
little.

Remember, you don’t need to be a registered user to vote;
simply click and submit to have your voice heard! The poll’s up all
week, listed underneath all my menu buttons on the right. 

Last week’s poll was all about your birth story: did you have a
c-section? Was it scheduled? Did you go natural, or have an epidural?

Exactly
50% of you had an epidural; the other 50% was almost evenly divided
between natural childbirth, a planned c-section, and an emergency
c-section. None of you wrote to me with your birth stories, which
disappointed me: believe it or not, I love to hear that stuff. I’m also
a nut for wedding stories, by the way – and I cry at both.

I’ve
been thinking about birth stories recently for a couple of reasons.
First, as I believe I’ve mentioned only about a gazillion times,
Madeleine just turned one and since I woke up on her birthday I’ve been
thinking, “This time last year I was – climbing up on the operating
table – in recovery – checking into my room – coming home from the
hospital – spending our first night without medical staff on hand –“ and
so on. Reviewing my birth story in my mind brought all the memories and
feelings back full force. 

As part of the big Weaning Plan (see yesterday’s entry) we’ve started
introducing Madeleine to cow’s milk. Being the Paranoid New Mommy that
I am, I sent out a focus group poll to my girlfriends to find out how
they did it. I mean, it seems like there are so many variables involved!

For
instance, do you mix it with breast milk or formula to get them used to
the taste? Do you serve it room temperature, to seem more like breast
milk, or do you serve it cold so you don’t spend the next three years
heating up your child’s dinner drink? Do you offer it in a bottle, to
seem more familiar, or do you offer it in a sippy cup? Before meals,
when they’re hungry and more likely to drink? After meals, so they
don’t fill up on it and have room for solids? At a nursing time? 

I realize that experienced mommies everywhere are laughing simply at the
title of this entry – as if I can make a plan for this sort of thing and
stick to it. And more importantly, make Maddie stick to it.

But
she’s a year old now (I can almost say that without stuttering) and
we’re at the date we planned to begin weaning, way back when we were
young and innocent and thought babies cared about plans.

Our
pediatrician said at her one-year visit that we want her to be getting
most of her nutrition now from solids, not liquids, and gave her
blessing to both introduce cow’s milk and wean Maddie off breast milk.
She cautioned us against giving her too much milk, not wanting her to
fill up so much on cow’s milk that she didn’t eat a balanced meal. But
otherwise, we’re good to go. 

We’ve survived Madeleine’s one-year doctor’s visit. I went in with my
shortest list of questions to date, which made me feel like a pro now at
the mothering thing. I’ve got a one-year-old! I know what I’m doing!

Well,
sort of anyway.

I’ve really been looking forward to this visit,
odd as that may sound. For one thing, she’s got her chicken pox vaccine
now. It still boggles my mind that my daughter will never have to
experience chicken pox – with its sleepless, itchy nights and stinky
baths, its humiliating (and useless) pink calamine patches, and its
potentially life-threatening implications. I was maybe four when I had
the chicken pox, and the best part about it was being allowed to watch
way more t.v. than ever before. Other than that, it sucked. 

I’ve survived it. And the good news is, I’ll never have to go through it again.

The bad news is, I’ll never get to go through it again.

I’m talking about Madeleine’s first birthday, of course. I’ve been moping (vocally, and at great length) about it for a while now, and it’s happened. Over. Finito.

She’s now officially into the been-there-done-that part of her life. Maddie can look back and think to herself, “Now, let’s see, what was I doing this time last year? Oh, yes, pooping and sleeping. Man, I was such a baby.” And as for me, I now get to compare her today to where she was a year ago, and stare in disbelief for a few minutes every new morning.

This week’s poll is up and running so check it out. In honor of
Maddie’s first birthday and my tendency these days to wallow in memories
and watch her hospital videos, I’m asking about your birth experience.
Did you go the natural route? Grab an orderly and start your own IV
line for an epidural? Have a c-section? Or maybe you had a crazy birth
– the middle of a traffic jam, perhaps.

So speak up – I
want to know! Remember you don’t have to be a registered user to vote;
simply click to have your voice heard! The poll will be up all week, on
the right hand side of the website under the category buttons. 

Last week’s poll focused on breastfeeding: how long you did or didn’t
breastfeed your child. Most moms answered in the “12-18 months”
category, while the rest were all over the map. This was one of the
least-voted polls so far, and I’m guessing it’s a combination of two
things: first, many of us (myself included) are still in the early
stages and haven’t weaned yet. And second, a lot of women feel exposed
talking about how long they breastfed; they fear judgment and lectures.

I’m
not here to lecture anyone on her breastfeeding choices. It’s no secret
from my website that I support breastfeeding and believe it’s superior
to formula in terms of physical benefits, ease of access, and financial
cost. Doctors strongly urge you to nurse your child for at least six
months to give your baby the most benefits as far as allergy resistance,
a strong immune system, the list goes on. Since doctors also say that
baby’s primary nutrition for the first year should come from either
breastmilk or formula, my goal with Madeleine was to never need to
supplement with formula; I’d nurse her until she didn’t need it for
nutritional reasons, and assumed I’d be weaning around one year.

We’re inches away from Madeleine’s first birthday: it’ll be here before I know it and I’m digging in my heels, being dragged kicking and screaming towards that invisible line where my baby becomes a toddler and toddles off away from me.

I’m finding that most companies make an arbitrary delineation for kids: under one year and you’re an infant, over one year and you’re a toddler. I have to tell you, I’m not ready for her to be a toddler. I’m still getting used to the fact that she does more than sleep and poop, that she has opinions and preferences, favorite toys and sleeping positions.

This automatic reclassification of my child feels so abrupt for me; one day, she’s a cuddly newborn, next day she’s pondering pre-school choices and having playdates. For some reason, though I know that it’s been in the works and I’ve seen the date circled in red on the calendar, this has sneaked up on me. I need an easing into it, a gradual transition if you will. 

When I mentioned all the babyproofing we did throughout the house a few
months ago (see this
blog and this
blog), I forgot to talk about one room – our family room. We’ve
got one space that is multi-purpose in the extreme: it’s Brian’s 9-5
office, my desk area, our “guest room”, the wrapping paper/craft area,
and the party room replete with disco ball, twinkle lights, a
Playstation 2 and multiple remote controls. I took one look at its
plethora of extension cords, surge protectors, and exposed bulbs and
knew babyproofing the area would be hopeless.

I wanted to be able
to bring her in there, though, since I use the computer regularly and
need to be able to be hands-free in that room. So I came up with the
only solution I could think of – corral the kiddo. 

You’re pregnant. You are in the beginning of your third trimester.
You’ve narrowed down your list of potential pediatricians to two or
three. What’s next?

Believe it or not, job interviews.

Most
pediatricians will offer some sort of pre-natal consultation or
get-to-know you appointment. They fully expect new parents to want to
meet with them and, well, put them through their paces a bit. Such
appointments used to be always free; some doctors now charge a
small(ish) fee for them. Our doctor’s practice offers a third
alternative: a group interview. Some offices will offer “open houses”
of some kind a few times a month. It’s a way to see a lot of people in
a short amount of time. 

Madeleine’s coming up on her one-year check-up soon and I’ve been
working on my list of questions to ask the pediatrician. See, I write
down all the things I’d like to ask her so that I 1) don’t forget and
sit there panicking saying, “I know I had a question but can’t remember
what it is!”; and 2) I don’t feel the need to call the doctor once a
week: I write the question down and if finding out whether or not she
needs sunscreen specifically formulated for babies seems urgent I’ll
send it out to my focus group. I’m sure my pediatrician appreciates the
lack of calls she gets from us between visits, though I’m guessing she
inwardly rolls her eyes when I pull out my list every appointment.

She’s
incredibly patient, though, and I realized how lucky we are to have
found her. I know many people who go through two or three doctors
before finding one they are comfortable with. And with so many friends
anticipating a new arrival this year, I thought this might be a good
time to talk about how you go about finding a great pediatrician.

All
that, and because my brother point-blank asked me to write a blog on the
topic. Someone’s wife gets pregnant and all of a sudden Sister’s
website gets a lot more interesting . . .

At any rate, here we go.

This week’s poll takes a look at how long you breastfed. A few weeks?
A few months? A few years? Never? I’d like to hear how it worked out
for you. And don’t worry – this is a safe place, and no one will jump
down your throat for choosing not to nurse until your child went to
kindergarten. With Maddie approaching one year I’ve got an eye on
weaning and wondered where everyone else fell, that’s all.

As
always, you don’t need to be a registered user to vote; simply click to
have your voice heard. And if you’ve got an interesting story about
this week’s topic I’d love to hear it, so drop me an email.

Last week’s poll was about what sort of labels we use for ourselves as mothers: stay-at-home mom, work-outside-the-home mom, work-at-home mom, primary caregiver with part-time job, and so forth.

Almost half of you called yourself a 24/7, stay-at-home mom. Everyone else weighed in as working outside by necessity, work-from-home but around kids’ schedules, or primary caregiver with some other sort of time commitment outside the home. I think the primary caregiver one is the label I’d most easily choose for myself, but I’m not real thrilled with any of the options.

This topic has been on my mind a lot recently, partly because I’ve been reading a bit on the subject. Mommy Wars is a collection of essays in which working moms and stay-at-homes square off in the ring and defend their positions. I was drawn to some essays more than others, partly because of writing quality and partly because of the point of view. One of the sections that stuck with me most, actually, was the introduction; the editor dissected our apparent need as mothers to pick apart the people on the “other” side of the fence. Why do we feel the need to make the other moms out there feel bad if their situation’s not the same as ours? Why do all working moms seem to look at stay-at-homes and think, “What does she do all day? Is she really that lazy?” while stay-at-homes regard working moms and think, “My gosh, how guilty she must feel at leaving her kids all day. Why have them if she isn’t going to raise them herself?” These attitudes are bound to come through in our interactions and conversations, making both sides feel horrible.

We’ve moved in our daily life, Mad and I, to the audience participation
part of the show.

Madeleine’s spent much of her life being the
infant royalty carried around from production to production; she enjoys
her days watching a “show” unfold before her. She’s interested and
entertained, but doesn’t really see that it requires much back from her.

In
the past couple of months, though, our activities have become a
partnership.