Life with Baby...the first 3 months

Forty weeks of bliss. Forty weeks to daydream of little feet, little hands, little smiles, and little coos. My baby ~ my precious son ~ would almost certainly eat every 2 hours like all the websites said and then he would sleep for long periods of time in his crib, peacefully. Then, we would change his diaper, I would feed him again (30 minutes tops), and he would sleep some more (in his crib) until his next feeding. I would sleep when the baby sleeps, and the sun would shine just a little brighter every day and all would be well. Not much would change except that I'd have to feed, change, and lay a baby down for his very long naps every couple of hours.

That was pregnancy. When we first brought Kameen home, he did sleep and he did nurse for very brief periods. I thought to myself, "This is a piece of cake!" ~Then, my milk came in about 3 days postpartum. And, the night it did, he nursed for 2 hours until I finally unlatched him and wondered what in the world was going on. I figured, ok, my milk came in and he's just getting used to this new taste and new sensation; soon he'll even out and nurse like all the books say. Boy was I wrong. From that point on it seemed he NEVER unlatched from me unless I took him off. When I took him off he cried and cried. I looked at Chris helplessly, wondering out loud if nursing him for 2 hours straight was normal. My mission became trying to figure out what was wrong with my son. It seemed that unless he was nursing, he was crying. We tried 4 different kinds of pacifiers (big NOPE), swaddling (Happiest Baby on the Block ring a bell?), walking, baby wearing, driving in the car (it worked 2nd to nursing as long as he had just been fed), rocking, white noise (black noise, blue noise, you get the point), and on and on. When we laid him down, he woke up. One day he would sleep on the Boppy (without me) for an hour, and the next day his eyes popped open the minute I set him aside. We were on 24-hour duty, and most nights, we co-slept (something I said I would never do, except to feed baby and put him back in his bassinet).

Finally, we took him to the pediatrician because he seemed to have some trouble with spitting up. She agreed he probably had some reflux issues. So, we put him on medicine. And, I stopped eating dairy because of the way he cried and the little bumpy rash he would get when I ate dairy.
All the while, I felt a little crazy. Was my son colicky? Did he really have reflux? Why didn't he want to sleep? What happened to my life? What happened to my body? Who was this little person, and why did he always seem so angry and tense? All these thoughts swirled through my head every moment of every day. On top of all this, my body was still healing. I was in a lot of pain most days, and even though I did sleep when he slept most of the time (picture him on the Boppy nursing, me topless with my head back on the couch, mouth open), I still felt completely out of sorts and tired.

Every day, while sitting on the couch nursing him, I would surf the net trying to find answers. I went to my message board where all the moms I'd gone through pregnancy with were now asking the same questions that were in my head. But there seemed to be NO real answers. I just kept waiting for the "milestone" weeks (like 6-8 weeks things were supposed to improve, hah!). I kept telling myself to enjoy these moments because they wouldn't last long. But, there were days when I just wanted him to go away because he cried and cried and nursed and nursed and then cried some more. I would wear him in the Mobywrap as often as I could, but it made my body hurt to be up walking with him a lot (and that's the only way he would be in the Moby was if I was moving).


And then, right around 2 1/2 months, he started to get better. They weren't significant changes, but somewhere along the way he figured out that there are other things in life besides nursing (just like the book said he would). He slowly started spending longer periods of time playing and less time crying. To this day, I'm not sure if it was reflux medication and the avoidance of dairy, or simply the passage of time that got us through those first 3 months. I truly believe in the fourth trimester. Next time I'll know more and hopefully be prepared (don't quote me on that though.) :)

Birth Choices Article

I could go on all day long about choosing a natural birth, and how Chris and I came to do so for our first pregnancy. This article from Mothering Magazine gives an almost identical depiction of our journey to a natural birth at the birthing center. I left my doctor at 32 weeks. It CAN be done. I encourage ALL women to take control of their births - IT'S YOUR BIRTH, not an OB/GYN's. :)

http://www.mothering.com/articles/pregnancy_birth/birth_preparation/off-her-back.html

An Amazing Birth

It was Friday morning (11/16) when I went in to see the midwife at the Austin Area Birthing Center. My Wednesday (11/14) due date had come and gone to no avail. I had been madly cooking and freezing food for 2 weeks, and was running out of recipes. Because my blood pressure remained just high enough to alarm the midwife, she ordered me to go out and rent a breast pump to get my labor going. I was fine with a natural induction because by this point I felt like a football player who had watched all the film he could and was anxiously waiting for the coach to put him in the game. I had packed on 50 lbs., and everything in my body ached.

After 1 hour of nipple stimulation, I started having contractions. It was very exciting. I just knew we would be holding our son late Friday night or Saturday morning. So, I continued my nesting chores, excited by each contraction. Friday night came and went, as did all day Saturday. The contractions stayed, but they did not progress. By Saturday night the contractions were stronger, and when I spoke with my doula she was almost sure she'd be at our house before the night was over.

Sunday morning...all night contractions...heating pad and Bradley breathing...exhausted. Call doula...she suggests I call the midwife at the birthing center. FINALLY, I am given the go ahead to do something! The midwife tells me to meet her at the birthing center at 10am. Chris goes out for a breakfast taco (he has slept almost the whole night). When the midwife checks me, I am 4-5 cm dilated. So, we stay. Now, I know we will be holding our son by day's end. My doula arrives and keeps me company while Chris goes back to the house to gather our things. It was not exactly the rush to the hospital scene they show in the movies.

After a couple of doses of herbal potion to bring my contractions closer together, the midwife checks me again. 7 cm! I am in transition. My doula runs water in the birthing tub. As I get up, my water breaks. It's very warm and strangely soothing as it runs out of me. I get into the tub, and it feels wonderful! Chris cannot leave my side. He puts his cheek on mine through each contraction. He walks away for a moment, and a contraction comes...I feel lost and alone. He rushes back over and doesn't leave me again. I am leaned over the tub squatting on my knees. Finally, my body just starts to push. When the midwife checks, I'm not quite there, but I still push because it feels good. I push in the tub for awhile.

We move to the birthing stool. The baby's heartbeat drops drastically; I'm quickly moved to the bed. I am told to breath because the baby's heartrate keeps dropping very low. Chris hovers an oxygen mask over my face. "Breath, Lori. Breath for your baby!" Everyone keeps encouraging me. With every push I feel the midwife stretching me, wider and wider. She is not happy with my progress, so they make me go to the shower for squatting. I squat all the way down to the floor. I have to stay there. It seems like forever, and I am so tired. I keep my eyes closed most of the time, but all the encouragement keeps me going. "Push your baby out, Lori!" "Breath!" I make good progress, and they move me back to the bed for the final pushing. It seems like forever. I am given a ski rope to pull during each contraction. It is so hard. I am so tired. Finally, I hear everyone say they see hair. I reach down and feel the top of his head. It is warm and wet. Then, his ear! Moments later, he is out. 9 hours since we had arrived at the birthing center. 2 hours of pushing....I am exhausted...and so energized all at the same time. Chris is in tears. He kisses me, and we both kiss our son.

A Family of My Own

It was one year ago this week that I shared the news with Chris (my husband) that our happy hour rendezvous had finally been successful in getting me pregnant. Yes, when Chris walked in the house after being at a SXSW party for the 4th night in a row and saw my nifty display in the doorway (picture a plate on a stool with pink and blue icing that said "Love You Daddy" and my positive pee stick neatly balanced on the edge of the plate) he could not have been more thrilled. Of course, my wishful thinking led me to use a bit more of the pink icing than the blue as frilly dresses and soft curls danced in my head. I just knew we'd have a girl! Afterall, it is the current trend in Chris's family, and my sister had already given us two nephews. Certainly we would be having a girl. All this before I'd even seen the little blob on the sonogram monitor.

All my life I've waited to be a mommy. I know most little girls dream of their wedding day and their prince charming, and I suppose I knew that had to come first. But, I wanted babies. I LOVED raising my babydolls. I was an excellent mommy to them (ask them if you don't believe me). Who cares how they got here or who the father was? All that mattered was that I had someone to take care of...a little someone. Don't get me wrong, once I got older and boys became an all important part of life, I forgot all about being a mommy. In fact, I tried hard not to become one too soon! (Yes, I made some mistakes in my teen years, go figure).

So, when I found out I was pregnant, I was determined to make it the pregnancy I always dreamed of. No one would take this first pregnancy experience away from me. I got downright mean about it. I was a very pushy pregnant lady. I went to work late and left early (for the record, I did not claim more hours than I worked), I slept A LOT, and I yelled at a doorman in New York (I'll talk more about that later).

Once we found out it was a boy, and the idea of having a son slowly sank in, I got very excited and really started connecting with my growing belly as such. And when he arrived, my joy could not have been more complete! He's rounding the corner to his 4th month next week, and he is a delight of all delights. I should definitely create a dessert in his honor because he's the sweetest thing in my world. So, come share in my experiences as a mommy to this little gem, Isaac Kameen.