True to form, I’m late on the monthly update. But this time I’m only six days late, so it’s getting better. At least the photo was taken on the exact day:
I can’t believe how big he is getting! And I think he is starting to look more and more like D. I am going to try to find some baby pictures of D for comparison.
Okay, here’s what’s happening at three months…
Stats: 13ish lbs. I weighed him in a very unscientific way of stepping on the scale with and without him and subtracting the numbers and I got about 13 lbs. I would have thought he would have been bigger by now, but I know the scale may not be that precise. Will be interesting to see how much he weighs next time he goes to the doctor, which I think should be around four months.
Sleeping: He actually gave us two nights in a row of sleeping through the night a couple weeks ago! And then just when I got my hopes up that this was going to be the new normal, he totally regressed. He’s now back to waking up every 3-4 hours, and we’re having some issues with the swaddle. He fusses and can’t fall asleep unless his arms are immobilized, yet he wakes himself (and consequently, us) up a few hours later, grunting and busting his arms out. It’s sort of a lose-lose situation. If I don’t swaddle him, he can’t fall asleep. If I swaddle him, he won’t stay asleep. I did some searching online and found a few recommendations for a product called the Magic Sleepsuit. It kind of reminds me of the snowsuit Randy wears in A Christmas Story. Supposedly it partially immobilizes their arms so they don’t flail around so much or wake themselves up with their reflexes. It’s $40, though, which would be worth it if it works (sleep is a glorious thing), but I’d be afraid of wasting my money if it didn’t help. I may check Craigslist, Ebay and consignment stores and see if I can find one used – less risk that way!
Eating: I’ve documented our breastfeeding struggles here and here. Thankfully, we seem to be getting into a better groove now! Theo is eating 4 to 5, 3-ounce bottles while I’m at work — usually four at daycare and one D feeds him before I get home. He’s taking a bottle great now, and I’m finally pumping enough to get him through the next day, and even usually have a couple surplus ounces I can scald and freeze. I’ll be going to a friend’s wedding in LA in October and leaving Theo home with D, so my goal is to have at least 90 ounces in my freezer stash before then. Shouldn’t be a problem at the rate I’m going now, which is a relief! T is still nursing every 2-3 hours when we’re home together, though I’ve noticed he sometimes gets a little fussy at the boob now. Hopefully he isn’t starting to get frustrated with the slower flow. Bottles tend to have a faster flow than the breast, so sometimes babies can get too used to bottles and frustrate easily when they can’t get the milk as fast from the boob. That would be just our luck! First he prefers the boob and doesn’t take a bottle, and then he prefers the bottle and won’t take a boob?! Knock on wood that’s not the direction we’re headed!
Personality: He is sooo much fun. Smiles all the time and just loves to look at everyone. He’s getting really interactive. If you smile, he’ll smile back. If you talk to him, he’ll babble back. Sometimes he’ll babble up at me while he’s breastfeeding, and it’s just the cutest thing. I tell him not to talk with his mouth full (never too early for manners!). Just the other day he scratched his head and it was the funniest. He’s been dealing with cradle cap and it must be itchy. I can’t explain it, but it’s just so cool to see little him do the most ordinary things. He gets more and more “human” every day!
Likes/Dislikes: Still loves being changed, and loves bath time too. He prefers to look around and be upright most of the time. We put him in his Bumbo chair for the first time a couple weeks ago, and he loved it! He used to love his swing, but he seems to be falling out of love with it, and I think it’s because he’s too reclined to really look around. He’ll still nap in it when he’s really tired, but forget about using it to calm him when he’s fussy. The swinging motion used to calm him right down, but now putting him in the swing while he’s fussing will make him quickly escalate from fussing to screaming. He is starting to like his crib more, even though he still doesn’t sleep in it. He likes to look up at his mobile, though, and sometimes I’ll put him in there while I hang clothes or tidy up his room. Lately he’s been going through a phase where he just wants to be held most of the time (upright, of course). He’ll fuss if you set him down, or even sit down while holding him, but if you’re standing and he’s able to look over your shoulder, he’s happy as a clam. I’ve been watching a lot of TV while standing up lately…
Mama: I’m feeling pretty much back to normal now, though I’m still nowhere near bikini ready and my weight loss seems to have stalled out at around 4-5 lbs over my pre-pregnancy weight. I haven’t really done much exercise, though, and hope to change that soon. It’s just so hard to find time since my workdays are long and when I’m home, I just want to spend time with my baby. I think I may start up a “Couch to 5k” program next week, though, and take Stewie running with me in the mornings on the days I work from home. I think the dogs have been feeling a little neglected lately!
That’s about all for now. I’ll wrap this up with some recent favorite photos:
Theo and his daddy in matching swim trunks.“Is that my foot?”All smiles.Talking to his great grandma.Business casual, pants optional.Sitting in his Bumbo seat.Sleeping like an angel.“Watching” the Mariners in his Bumbo seat.Bath time!Like father, like son.Nomming on his toy.My two sons.Trying out the Jumparoo.
As I mentioned in a previous post, I recently ran into a pretty big hurdle with breastfeeding: the discovery that my milk contains too much lipase, an enzyme that breaks down fats, causing the milk to go bad quickly. Well, I’m happy to say that despite having to start my freezer stash over from scratch, I’ve gotten in a pretty good routine of scalding my milk, and it’s only slightly more inconvenient than normal pumping.
Unfortunately, after going back to work last week I came to the realization that I’m not pumping as much as Theo is eating while away from me. As I mentioned earlier, he ate everything I sent him with on day two by 2 p.m. I had sent him with the entire 14 ounces I had pumped the day before. Since I had pumped three times the first day (9 a.m, noon and 3 p.m.), I decided to up my pumping sessions on day two (9 a.m., 11:30 a.m., 2 p.m. and 4 p.m.). Still got 14 ounces. On top of T eating those 14 ounces at daycare, D fed him about 6 more ounces from my meager freezer stash before I got home. So it appears I need to be pumping about 20 ounces per day to keep up with his demand while I’m away.
Well, crap.
I had no prior indication that I might have an issue with supply. Theo eats like a champ when he’s getting it straight from the boob. And he’s gaining weight beautifully, according to our pediatrician. Also, ever since he was about 4 weeks old I’ve been doing one extra pumping session per day for the purpose of building a freezer stash, and I would regularly get 5-6 ounces out of that session, which felt like a good amount to me. Unfortunately, what I discovered after going back to work and pumping 3-4 times per day is that my pumping output gets progressively smaller throughout the day. In order to continue feeling him breastmilk exclusively while I’m away from him, I need to be consistently getting 5-6 ounces from each and every session. And ideally I’d be getting more than that, so I can continue to stash some extra in the freezer for backup.
So, over the weekend I went on a mission to increase my supply. Here’s how:
Nurse, nurse, nurse. Best way to increase supply is to empty frequently. And the baby is the most efficient way to empty. So I’m trying to feed Theo as much as possible and am letting him eat for as long as he wants. (And now that I’ve returned to work, he’s been eating more frequently and averaging about 45 minutes per session, versus his usual 15-20 minutes)
Pump after nursing. After T finishes, I hook up to the pump for an additional 10 minutes or so. Most of the time I get less than a half ounce total, proving that the baby really is pretty efficient. But I’m combining the milk from all these bonus pumps and by the end of the day I have about 2-3 ounces that I can add to my freezer stash. Plus, even if I’m not getting much, the idea is that the pump will stimulate me to make more. Here’s hoping it pays off, because it’s super annoying. Have I mentioned how much I really hate pumping? Not to mention, once I finish one of T’s marathon nursing sessions, pump, and then clean pump parts and store my milk, it’s almost time to nurse again.
Lactation cookies. I got this recipe from the lactation consultant at the hospital after T was born, so I went ahead and made them on Saturday. They contain oatmeal, brewers yeast and flaxseed, which are all supposed to boost lactation. And they taste pretty good! Don’t have to twist my arm to get me to eat cookies!
Beer. Another piece of advice from the hospital’s lactation nurse was to drink a beer per day. Again, don’t need to twist my arm! I’ve been doing this almost every day since T was born, and now I’m definitely making sure I do.
Fenugreek. This is an herbal supplement that’s known to boost milk supply. Supposedly the side effect is that it makes your pee and sweat smell like maple syrup. I haven’t noticed anything yet, but it’s only been two days.
Water. I’ve been trying to up my water intake, as that’s supposed to help with supply. I’ve never been very good about drinking the recommended 8 glasses per day.
Oatmeal. Along with the oats in the lactation cookies, I’m eating oatmeal for breakfast every morning.
Longer pumping sessions. I was pumping for 15 minutes per session, but I’m stretching that to 20 minutes, in hopes of squeezing just a little more out. I’m thankful that I have a hands free setup and my own office with a door so I can keep working while doing so.
Unfortunately, I haven’t noticed a difference just yet, but at least I’ve had the weekend to get a few bonus pumps in so I had enough milk to send with him to daycare this morning. I just hope today’s output is enough to feed him Tuesday, or we may need to start thinking about supplementing with formula. It’s really something I had wanted to avoid, but I need to remember that formula is not the devil. Feeding your baby is feeding your baby. I just wish my body would cooperate so I could feed my baby the way I want.
Last Thursday I went back to work. There were many tears involved; mostly mine.
I knew it would be hard to leave Theo, but I actually was proud of myself for only shedding a few tears when I dropped him off the first day. It was nice to see coworkers again and I was actually feeling pretty good about getting back into the swing of things, until I got an email from D, letting me know our daycare provider had called to tell him Theo was refusing the bottle. Suddenly, all the emotions I had been doing a good job at holding back came pouring out. I had to close my door and have a good cry. Why did I have to come back to work? Why do we have to live in such a high cost of living area where we need my income? Why couldn’t I have been born in a different decade where moms were expected to stay home? And since I had no control over any of those things, I blamed myself: why couldn’t we have done a better job getting Theo used to a bottle before starting daycare?
I managed to pull myself together long enough to get through a call, and then I closed my door again and called our daycare provider to check in. She said Theo was doing a little better with the bottle, but I could hear him crying in the background. It broke my heart and I had to have another good cry in my office. Thankfully D was able to leave work early to go get him, and said he gulped down a bottle once he got T home. Who knows why he resisted the bottle so much at daycare – maybe it was just the unfamiliarity of it all – but I was finally able to relax, knowing he was at home with his dad and at least wasn’t hungry anymore. When I got home that night, he nursed for a really long time, and then wanted to eat again about an hour later and got in another long nursing session. He also woke up twice that night to nurse. I’ve heard of babies “reverse cycling” when they start daycare, and I think that might be what he’s doing. So, just when I really need to start getting more sleep, it looks like I may be getting less until T gets used to his new routine.
Thankfully D has a flexible schedule, because he ended up having to pick T up early again the next day. This time, instead of refusing the bottle, he had downed everything I had sent him with by 2 p.m. So we’re still figuring things out, and I need to make sure I’m pumping enough (more about that later). The good news is, dropping him off the second day was ten times easier than it was the first day.
So, yeah… about pumping. Pumping at work will definitely take some getting used to. Aside from carving out time in my day to do this 3-4 times, it’s just plain weird. I texted D on my first day and told him I was topless in my office. His reply: “A raise is a raise. The glass ceiling isn’t going to move itself.” (LOL). I will say, on that first day I was especially thankful to have an office with a door where I can cry and/or go topless as needed. Now there’s an odd sentence!
The good news is that I’ve set some boundaries with work that I think will make being back at work more manageable. While I used to regularly stay past 6 p.m. and not get home until 7:30 or later, I told them I would be leaving at 5 p.m. every day, and would log on again from home if I needed to finish anything up. I’m also going to work from home two days per week. Prior to maternity leave I was already working from home on Tuesdays, so I’ll continue that, and will also have a floating WFH day that I’ll determine on a week-to-week basis, depending on meetings. We’ll still have T in fulltime childcare since I can’t watch a baby and get work done at the same time, but at least I can get 3 hours back in my day by eliminating my long commute.
So, while the first day was pretty rough, I must say I’m feeling much more confident about maintaining a work-life balance. I think I can actually do this whole working mom thing!
Long before I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to breastfeed. It’s just one of those things that I knew would be important to me for numerous reasons: the health of the baby and increased immunity, the cost (formula is expensive, yo!), helping me get back in shape (can’t argue with burning an extra 500 calories a day while sitting on the couch!), and just the overall emotional bond. Not that women who bottle feed don’t bond with their babies – I’m not trying to start a mommy war here – but there is just something about holding the baby skin to skin, knowing you are providing him with all the sustenance he needs to grow… it just felt like a right of passage to me as a mother. It’s a personal choice, but my goal was to do this for one year and try to avoid formula altogether.
I wasn’t naive to think breastfeeding would be all puppies and rainbows, though. I suppose one of the benefits of being some of the last of our friends to have a baby is that I’ve been able to learn a lot through everyone else’s experiences. I can’t think of one friend who didn’t have at least a couple hurdles to get over in her breastfeeding journey. From poor latch, to engorgement, to cracked and bleeding nipples, to mastitis, to diminishing supply, I had heard it all, and so I read up on everything I could get my hands on. I went into this feeling like I was pretty well-prepared. So it’s ironic that the one issue I didn’t study ahead of time would prove to be my biggest challenge.
As I mentioned previously, we had a couple small hurdles to get over at the beginning of our breastfeeding journey, including a bad latch and falling asleep at the boob. Once we got over these issues, though, we were able to settle into a good groove and I actually began to enjoy breastfeeding. I counted myself lucky for the relative ease of it. I didn’t even leak. I was comfortable feeding whenever and wherever, thanks to my nursing cover, which I love. So much easier that packing bottles, since I can’t accidentally leave my boobs at home.
When Theo was about four weeks old, I started pumping once a day. I needed to start building a freezer stash that we could use when he went to daycare, or if we wanted a night out. We gave him his first bottle, and he did okay on it. The flow was a little faster than the real deal, so I ordered some slower flow bottle nipples, and he seemed to do great. For the next few weeks, we gave him one bottle per week, to keep him in practice. Meanwhile, I dutifully pumped every day, and even though I really hate pumping, I had built up quite an impressive freezer stash, and I recently estimated I had about 300 ounces squirreled away.
But after a few weeks, we got lax on giving him his weekly bottle, and when I dipped into the frozen stuff for the first time last week to have D give him a bottle, he outright refused it. In fact, he was screaming, he was so hungry, but just wouldn’t take the bottle. I think I got my first dose of what’s known to working moms as “mommy guilt.” As I sat there listening to him cry, hooked up to my cold, noisy, mechanical pump, tears streaming down my face, all I wanted to do was comfort my baby. And if it weren’t for the fact that I’m returning to work in two weeks, it wouldn’t be so important to get him to take a bottle. I had these visions of him on his first day of daycare, scared, hungry and wanting his mommy. It was too much for me to handle, and I unhooked from the pump, snatched him out of D’s arms and put him to my breast. He immediately calmed down. It was one of the most emotional moments I’ve had since he was born. I can’t describe it, but as a mother, there’s just something so primal about the need to feed your baby. Listening to him scream from hunger pains broke my heart into a million pieces.
At first we thought the bottle itself was the problem, since we hadn’t given him one in a couple weeks. So D and I vowed to start giving him bottles more often to get him used to them again. We had a few different kinds, so we experimented with different bottles. We weren’t having much luck. After a few frustrating attempts, I wondered if maybe it was the milk, since the problem seemed to have started at the same time we started feeding the frozen stuff. I gave it a sniff and – wow – it smelled terrible! Sour, metallic, and slightly soapy. Dipped a finger in and tasted it – yuck. No wonder Theo was refusing. But, since I had never made a point to smell or taste my milk before, I had nothing to compare it to. So I quickly pumped a small amount and smelled it – no odor at all. Dipped a finger in and tasted it – it tasted sweet. Clearly something was wrong with the frozen stuff. I vaguely recalled reading about this in one of my books, so off to the internet I went. From everything I read, it sounded like I had found my problem. Essentially, some women have too much lipase in their milk, an enzyme that breaks down fat, causing the milk to take on a bad flavor in a short period of time. It varies in extremes – for some women, this happens mere minutes after expressing. Others can store their milk in the refrigerator for a few days before it starts to go bad. But in all cases, freezing doesn’t do anything to slow this breakdown, so while most women can freeze their milk and store it for months, the only way to freeze milk when you have excess lipase is to scald it first. This involves bringing the milk to almost but not quite boiling, and then cooling it quickly.
Sound like a lot of work? It is. So in addition to my anxiety about leaving my baby, going back to work and pumping 3-4 times per day, and missing the special time T and I have breastfeeding throughout the day, now I have an extra step to take in storing my milk. Not to mention, those 300 ounces of liquid gold I’ve worked so hard to pump are now useless. That part was especially devastating. Anyone who’s breastfed knows how valuable that milk is. I’ve cried before over accidentally spilling 6 ounces while transferring it to a freezer bag. And now I have to throw out 300 ounces? Kill me now. If only I had tested my freezer stash sooner, I might have been able to prevent all this waste. I have heard that milk banks will take milk with excess lipase, as it’s not harmful; it just tastes bad. Milk banks use it to tube-feed babies in the NICU, so it doesn’t matter what it tastes like. It’s also combined with other milk, so the lipase is diluted anyway. It’s something I need to look into more, but I would feel better about donating my stash than just throwing it all away. What a waste.
So, over the past few days I’ve been defrosting milk from various dates just to make sure it’s all bad (it is), and conducting a series of experiments to find out just how much of a grace period I have after pumping. If my milk will stay good until the next day, then I can essentially just pump each day at work for the following day, and on Fridays scald my milk for Monday. And any excess that I pump that is more than he’ll need the next day at daycare, I can scald for rebuilding my freezer stash, and hopefully D and I can have a date night someday. However, if my milk goes bad within less than 24 hours, then I’ll have to scald nightly. And if my milk goes bad shortly after pumping, I’ll have to find a way to scald at work, or possibly use formula while he’s at daycare. The problem with supplementing with formula, though, is that without pumping for every feed, my supply will drop, or possibly dry up altogether.
So this morning after pumping, I did my first scalding. I hope I did it right. I’ll need to pump and scald a couple times per day between now and August 1, when I go back to work, so I have enough milk for his first day and a little extra for “insurance.” It’s not going to be an easy road, and switching to formula would probably be the easier route, but this is something that’s important to me, and it’s the path I’ve chosen to take.
Well, so much for blogging more frequently. Theo is now two months old. Actually, as of today, he’s 10 weeks. So much for blogging on time too. Time is just flying by, and I can’t believe I go back to work in two weeks. In some ways I’m looking forward to it. I’m definitely looking forward to having more money again, and I’m also looking forward to some adult interaction and putting my brain back to use. But in many more ways, I’m really dreading it. I’ve grown so attached to this little guy and I can’t imagine leaving him for 11-12 hours every day, including my commute. Thankfully I’ll be able to work one day a week from home, and even though we’ll still need full-time childcare, at least I can get 2-3 more hours back in my day by eliminating my commute. I may see if work will let me do two days a week at home. If I only had to go into the office three days a week, I think this whole working mom thing may be manageable. Hard to believe next monthly update will be after I go back to work!
Okay, here’s what’s happening at two months…
Stats: 12 lbs. 6 oz.; 24 inches long; head is 15 inches around.
Sleeping: We’re getting about 4 hours at a time at night, which means if I nurse him right before we go to bed, we usually get one middle of the night wake-up around 2 or 3, and then an early one around 5 or 6. Once I go back to work, this will be the point where we get up in the morning, but for now I usually try to get him to go back to sleep for another couple hours and then we’re up for the day around 7 or 8. I’ve been better about not falling asleep with him in our bed during the night, though I do usually snooze with him in our bed for that last stretch in the mornings. It’s not a really sound sleep, so I don’t worry as much about his safety. D is also out of bed for work by this point, so I make sure T has plenty of space and is away from the blankets or anything that could harm him. He’s still not very good about napping in the crib. Every time I try to transfer him there he wakes up, and he won’t fall asleep if I put him in there awake, so it’s usually just easier to let him nap in his swing or on the couch.
Eating: He is getting much better about eating efficiently and staying awake through a feeding. He is spacing his feedings out closer to 2.5 to 3 hours now during the day, and 3-4 hours at night. During the day he will eat from both sides for about 10-15 minutes at a time, though we occasionally have a marathon session, where he nurses for up to an hour, half-asleep, mostly pacifying. I don’t mind, since I usually don’t have anywhere to be, and the nursing isn’t uncomfortable to me anymore. In fact, I really enjoy nursing now. Hate pumping, though, and I’m not looking forward to going back to work for this reason. I’ve gotten pretty comfortable nursing in public, thanks to my nursing cover. I find myself nursing in parking lots quite often since he always seems to get hungry while we’re out running around!
Personality: He is really getting fun, and his personality seems to develop more and more every day. I think he will be a very active baby, despite previously thinking he was going to be very chill. I do still think he will be pretty easygoing, as he doesn’t seem to fuss nearly as much as other babies I see. He does not like to sit still, though, and he constantly wants to be looking around. He is smiling a ton these days, and it never gets old. Each smile gets me so excited as if it were the first time. I’ve heard of baby smiles described as “parent crack” and it’s absolutely true. I find myself making a fool out of myself with silly faces and voices, just to get that fix and one is just never enough. He is cooing and “talking” to us quite a bit now too, and it’s fun to carry on “conversations” with him. He doesn’t really like his tummy time, and the pediatrician said that’s something we need to work on more. He has good head control when he’s upright but he should be getting close to the point where he can push himself up and support himself on his elbows while on his tummy, and he isn’t doing that yet.
Likes: Still likes having his diaper changed. I mentioned this to our pediatrician and she said her son was like that too, and that they called it his “reset button.” It’s a good description, because even when he’s fussy, he’ll calm down and give me a smile when I change him. He is really starting to like bath time too. I’ve started giving him a bath once a day and it’s so fun to watch him splash and smile up at me. He also really loves to stare at his own reflection. Can’t say I blame him – he’s a pretty handsome dude!
Dislikes: He seems to have regressed a bit on taking a bottle, which is something we’re working on – we need to get this problem fixed before I go back to work. The bottle thing is turning out to be quite an issue, which I’ll go into detail more about in a separate post. His gassy issues we were dealing with last month seem to have subsided, thankfully. He still gets a bit fussy when he has a big burp or fart he can’t seem to get out, but he’s gotten more efficient about working them out himself, I think.
Mama: I’m feeling pretty good these days. Still about 5 lbs. away from my pre-pregnancy weight, but my clothes are definitely fitting better. Still won’t be rocking a bikini anytime soon, and I’ve got a little bit of a gut that wasn’t there before getting pregnant, but I feel pretty good about my ability to work that off. I just got my IUD placed today, and that was SO much easier than getting it placed the first time around. I had heard that it would be less painful after having a baby and boy, was that the truth! The first time I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. This time it felt about as uncomfortable as a PAP.
Looking forward to some of the next milestones, such as laughing, rolling over, and getting some more head control! Every day he becomes more and more like a little person, and less like a cute little lump. As cliche as it sounds, he is truly growing up before my very eyes!
Today the U.S. Supreme Court ruled DOMA (defense of marriage act) unconstitutional, forcing the federal government to recognize same-sex marriages in states where it is legal. I’ve always been a proponent of gay rights, and becoming a parent has only reinforced this for me. Looking at Theo’s sweet face and wondering what sort of a man he will one day become, I can’t imagine him being denied the right to one day marry the person he loves, whether that person be a woman or a man. It breaks my heart to know that other parents have lost their precious children to things like hate crimes and suicide because people can’t accept people for who they are. I like to think that Theo will grow up in a more tolerant society.
The following song/video from Macklemore and Ryan Lewis was released a while back, but in light of today’s news, seems appropriate. A beautiful tribute to love in all forms.
Can’t believe my baby is one month old! Well, he is actually 6 weeks old. I’m a couple weeks behind on writing this, though the photo was taken June 9, at exactly one month old. I’m officially resolving to blog more often, even if it’s just quick posts/photos. I think the idea of trying to capture everything in a big update is keeping me from writing in a timely manner. It’s just simply too hard to find time to sit down and write a long post, especially since he’s been going through a bit of a fussy period lately. It’s sort of hit or miss as to what kind of a day we’re going to have. When he’s happy, I hate to ignore him, and when he’s fussy, he doesn’t like to be put down. Either way, as soon as he falls asleep I have to decide whether I want to shower, pump, clean, nap or do something for myself. Usually there’s only time to do one before he’s awake again. As of right now he has fallen asleep on the couch and I’m afraid to move or I’ll wake him up. But maybe I can finish the post before he does!
(Side note: it’s now three days later – he only gave me about 20 minutes in the photo above and I’ve only had a few minutes here and there to write since then!)
Okay, here’s what’s happening at 1 month…
Weight: 11.4 lbs
Sleeping: We’re only getting about 3 hours at a time since he wakes up to eat frequently, but he has gotten to a point where he usually goes down easily at night, and will go right back to sleep after eating. Sometimes we both fall asleep while nursing, since I’ve mastered the side-laying feed. I’ll wake up and realize it’s been over an hour and we’re both snoozing, sometimes with my boob still in his mouth. While it’s helping me to get more sleep at night, it does make me a bit nervous when I fall asleep like that since I’m afraid of smothering him with my giant boobs. He’s sleeping well in his Pack and Play next to our bed and I’m trying to get in the habit of having him nap in his crib during the day, but most of the time he ends up falling asleep on the couch, in our arms, or in his swing.
Eating: He’s eating like a champ. Still gets a bit sleepy at the breast, but will usually make up for a sleepy feed by pigging out at the next feeding. We’re feeding on demand but he tends to eat pretty regularly every 2 hours during the day and every 3 hours at night. He’s given us a couple 4 hour stretches at night and one 5 hour stretch, though. The extra sleep feels awesome, though my boobs feel like they’re going to explode when I wake up.
Personality: It’s fun to see little glimpses of his personality developing, and I’m excited to find out what kind of a person he turns out to be. I think he will probably be pretty chill. He tends to get fussy in the evenings, but he also has been burping and farting a lot lately, so I think a lot of his fussiness is due to gas. Otherwise, he mostly only cries when he needs something – usually a boob or a diaper change. He definitely has days where he’s fussier than others, but I heard the average baby cries for 3 hours a day and he’s nowhere near that. So even on his “bad” days, I know he’s really not that bad. He is really easy to take places, since he tends to sleep great when there’s a lot of noise around him.
Likes: He HATED having his diaper changed for the first couple weeks, but now he loves it. In fact, if he’s fussing, he’ll actually calm down now when you change his diaper and will stare attentively at you while you change him. He likes his pacifier okay, and it will sometimes calm him when he’s fussing, but he won’t always take it, and he tends to spit it out quickly. He really likes his swing and his activity mat, and loves to stare up at the dangling toys. Above all else, he loves the boob. Even when he isn’t hungry, that’s the one surefire way to stop him from crying. Unfortunately, he tends to get a bit frantic and gulp a lot of air while he sucks when he isn’t hungry, which causes more gas, which makes him fussier, so I try to find other ways to calm him if possible when I know he isn’t hungry.
Dislikes: He’s a pretty easy going guy, so there isn’t a lot he doesn’t like at this point. He isn’t afraid of being held by other people, and isn’t even fazed when the dogs bark. About the only thing that really pisses him off is gas. If he needs to burp or fart (or poop), his face goes beet red and he fusses and grunts until he can get some relief. Poor guy. I may ask our pediatrician if there’s anything we can give him to help with the gas. I’ve heard mylicon drops can help but haven’t looked into it enough yet.
Mama: Recovery for me has been a bit rough, and slower than I expected it to be. At 6 weeks postpartum I’ve only recently started to really feel like myself again, though there are some things that are just… different than before. I think I’ve pretty much destroyed all my pelvic floor muscles and those will take a while to rebuild. I’m not loving this postpartum body and I still have about 7 or 8 lbs to go before I’m back to my pre-pregnancy weight. I have my six week checkup with my doctor next Tuesday and I’m hoping she’ll clear me for exercise so I can start getting back in shape. As of right now I’m feeling pretty squishy and weak. I went bathing suit shopping yesterday which was seriously depressing. I knew I would definitely be wearing a one-piece this summer, but I hadn’t realized how hard it would be to find something I’m comfortable in. I did finally find a suit at Nordstrom that was WAY more money than I would have normally spent (usually I can find cute cheap suits at Target or Old Navy). I’m having some pretty serious buyer’s remorse and will probably keep the tags on until I really need to wear it, and keep my eye out for something cheaper before then so I can return it.
Okay, I’m going to wrap this up before Theo wakes up from his nap!
Two things I said I’d never do: give a pacifier before breastfeeding was well-established, and bring the baby into our bed at night. Guess what we did within the first week? We gave a pacifier on night two and brought Theo into our bed to sleep on night four. I think the rule of thumb when it comes to being a new parent is to never say never, and even though I could have punched every person who gave me some variation of that advice, the truth is, they were totally right.
Another thing I didn’t anticipate? That it would take me two weeks to find time to write another update since my last post! Theo is now three weeks old. Time flies. I have tried to update this blog multiple times over the past couple weeks, but caring for a newborn is more time consuming than I had ever imagined. Not only that, but between feeding and diapering round the clock, and not going to work or having any sort of set schedule, I’ve lost all concept of time.
Picking up where I left off last time, Theo gave us quite a hard time his first two nights. Actually, nights are still a bit of a challenge, but those first two nights were exceptionally rough. By the time we got transferred to our postpartum room that first night, it was about 2 a.m. and we had been up for almost 22 hours straight. We were beyond exhausted. Unfortunately, newborns tend to be VERY awake immediately after birth, and Theo was no exception. The first dilemma we were faced with was a poopy diaper. After some “wait, how do you do this?” conversation, we figured out the diaper, but then we couldn’t figure out how to swaddle him back up. Funny, we had learned how to both diaper and swaddle in our newborn care class, but suddenly neither of us could remember how to do either of those things in the moment. Theo broke out of our half-ass swaddle in a matter of minutes, and, as it turns out, having free arms is an alarmingly frightening thing to a newborn. He was sure to let us know just how displeased he was. The next morning the nurse came in and remarked about all the crying she heard coming from our room last night. Gee, would have been nice for her to offer some help! But I suppose the nurses tend to err on the side of letting parents figure things out for themselves unless asked. Duly noted.
Good morning! Never mind I just kept you up all night.Uncle Robbie and Theo (and mama’s first beer in 9 months!)
Since D’s dad and step-mom were coming to visit at 10 a.m., I figured I should get showered in an effort to feel human again. The hot shower was glorious, but the showering experience was a bit frightening, upon realizing just how torn up my poor lady bits were. But still, after a hot shower and a touch of makeup, I almost looked like my old self again, even if I didn’t feel it. After D’s dad and step mom, our friends Deanne, Brandon, Daren and Erin came by around noon, followed by my brother and sister-in-law around 3 (they brought me my first beer, which was glorious!), our friend Matt, and then my friends from college, Rachel, Kelly and Margaret around 4. D’s mom, sister, brother-in-law and niece came by around 7. It was a long day, but the steady flow of visitors made the day go by faster, as we were beginning to feel like prisoners in our hospital room. Theo was a perfect angel all day, but we soon learned we were in for another long night of crying. Turns out he had his days and nights flipped, which is common for newborns. (Side note: this is also what caused us to bring him into our bed to sleep a few days later, as someone had suggested this to help him regulate his days and nights. It definitely helped, and a week later we started the process of transitioning him back to his bassinet. I’m hoping to not set a precedent of him sleeping in our bed that will only be harder to break later!)
Unfortunately, that second night, I came to the painful realization that Theo had a very shallow latch when it came to breastfeeding, and my poor nips were already starting to blister from the constant (incorrect) nursing. After being unable to console him for the second night in a row (thankfully we figured out the swaddle, at least), we called in a nurse for help. She helped me some with my latch, but the damage was already done by that point. We tried nipple shields, which he didn’t like at all, and since he was mostly nursing for comfort at this point, we reluctantly introduced a pacifier. As I mentioned earlier, I really had wanted to hold off on that, but after only about 2 hours of sleep in 48 hours, we were desperate. The pacifier calmed him some, but it would fall out when he fell asleep, and that would wake him up and make him start crying again. So I spent most of the night popping the pacifier back in every time he would spit it out. I didn’t get much sleep, but at least my poor boobs got a bit of a break, and by the next morning, I was at least able to nurse again without crying from the pain.
After being checked out by the hospital’s pediatrician, we were finally given the green light to go home that day. We had a few other things to take care of first, including a newborn photo shoot, hearing test and visit from a lactation nurse, but by 1 p.m. we were finally on our way home!
Daddy and Theo, ready to go home.
I sat with Theo in the back seat of the car and remember being so terrified of every other car on the road. I think it’s going to be a while before I feel comfortable with him in the car. When we got home, my brother and sister-in-law had decorated the entryway with balloons and welcome home signs.
Welcome home, Theo!
I can’t even describe how good it felt to be home. We introduced Theo to the dogs, which went beautifully. They were mildly curious, but ignored him for the most part. An ideal situation, really. They have plenty of time to become friends.
Stewie meets Theo for the first time
Since we’ve been home, we’ve had plenty of visitors, which is great since it’s given us something to look forward to (and a reason to shower!) each day. We’ve also hardly cooked anything since bringing Theo home since everyone keeps bringing us food. My parents flew in on the following Saturday, and while my dad could only stay for a few days, my mom is staying for three weeks and has been spending most of her time with us. It’s been nice having the extra help since D went back to work and Theo has gotten plenty of grandma time.
Theo and his grandma.
As I mentioned earlier, we had a bit of a rough start with breastfeeding. Once we got the latch issues corrected, the next dilemma we faced was a narcoleptic nurser. Every time I would put him to the breast he would take about 2-3 sucks and be out like a light. I would spend the remainder of our nursing session trying to wake him/keep him awake. I mistakenly assumed he was still getting enough milk, until he was weighed at his first pediatrician visit the day after we were released. While it’s normal for babies to lose some weight in the first few days, Theo lost almost a full pound, which was concerning to our pediatrician. Actually, our first clue that something may be wrong was the night before when we saw what looked like blood in his diaper. We were pretty worried and called the pediatrician on call and were told they were uric acid crystals, a symptom of dehydration.
First pediatrician visit.
So our pediatrician told us feed every 2-3 hours round the clock, even if it meant waking him, and to do everything possible to keep him awake while eating. We had another weight check two days later, followed by a third check two days after that, and a final check a week after that, and I’m happy to report he is gaining weight like a champ. It’s still a bit of a challenge to keep him awake at the breast, but he’s getting better. He’s now back to his birth weight and we were given the green light to feed on demand now. He still usually wakes on his own every 2-3 hours, but we’ve gotten an occasional 4 hour stretch at night, which feels like heaven… that is, until I wake up and my boobs feel like they’re going to burst if I don’t feed him immediately!
Other milestones these three weeks have included his first grocery store trip, his first shopping trip to Nordstrom (mama needed some new bras!), and our first dinner out (I had been dying to eat sushi again, but we tried somewhere new and it was a bit disappointing). He’s been to Target, the vehicle emissions station, and we even took him on a 2-hour drive to our friends’ cabin in Cle Elum for the day. He does great in the car and hardly fusses when we’re out, with the exception of a minor meltdown once in the Target parking lot. Turns out he was just hungry, so I hopped into the backseat, whipped out the nursing cover and took care of that problem. Overall he’s a very happy baby, with the exception of his “witching hour” (he tends to get fussy in the evenings). At first it was between 10 p.m. and 2 a.m., and it’s gradually been shifting earlier and earlier. Now he usually starts fussing around 7 or 8 and calms down around 11 p.m. or midnight. It’s frustrating to try to get him to calm down when we are dead tired and ready for bed around 10, but it means he usually sleeps pretty well after midnight and we can get some sleep too. He still wakes to eat, but will go right back to sleep afterward with little to no fussing. The great news is that he really likes to sleep in, so what I lose at the beginning of the night, I can usually make up in the mornings, and we’ve been sleeping in until 9 or 10 most mornings. Since D is back at work and I have the boobs, I end up with the night shift. Once I go back to work and we’ve introduced a bottle we may start sharing night duties.
Okay, this is turning into another marathon post, so I’ll cut it off here. I will try to write more often so I can keep these posts shorter! I’ll leave you with some more photos from the past three weeks.
Theo and mama go bra shopping.First dinner out.Theo and his great grandma.Discovering his reflection.All dressed up in honor of Daddy’s first day back at work.First real bath – loved it!Fascinated by his play mat.
Wow, hard to believe it’s been over a week already. Also, it’s amazing how a lack of sleep can make day and night run together and cause you to lose all track of time. I started this post several days ago, but it’s been hard to find time to write about Theo’s birth story, especially since I knew this would be a very long post. I know this is all way more detail than anyone would care to know, but since all along this blog has mostly been for me, I wanted to capture every detail for the sake of my own memorabilia.
If you just want the short version of the story: Theodore Claude Hoffman was born at 11:18 p.m. on Thursday, May 9, 2013 after 19 hours of labor that began with my water breaking early that morning. He was 4 days overdue. Theo came out screaming mad after 2 hours and 8 minutes of pushing and weighed in at 8 lbs, 3.6 oz. He was 20 inches in length. He has a full head of blond hair, blue eyes, adorable dimples and rolls of chub. We are in love.
The (very) long version is…
On Tuesday, May 7, I had hit my wall. I had been bumping against the wall for a couple weeks now, but by Tuesday I had officially hit it. Face first and hard. I was physically uncomfortable, but that wasn’t what bothered me the most. Even though I knew that going past our due date was completely normal, the psychological effect of being “overdue” was harder on me than I ever imagined. I think it was the lack of control I had over the biggest event in my life. And even though work wasn’t stressing me out as bad as some things were, I decided work was one thing I could control. So I went into work on Wednesday and told them that would be my last day in the office, that I would work from home Thursday and Friday, and if baby wasn’t here by then, that would be my last official day. Originally I had said I would work up until I went into labor, but the ambiguity of when that would be was causing me more stress at work and I wasn’t doing myself or my employer any favors by dragging it out longer than necessary. With that decided, I found that I was able to have a productive day at work on Wednesday, and left with a small sense of relief and closure. I went to bed Wednesday night with horrible abdominal cramps and occasional contractions, but didn’t think much of it, since I had been experiencing irregular contractions for a couple weeks now.
Thursday morning, I woke up around 4 a.m. to pee, which in itself wasn’t strange… except for the fact that Stewie was pacing the room when I woke up. I remembered hearing that dogs can often sense things before they happen and remember thinking, jokingly, that maybe Stewie was sensing I was about to go into labor. And then I laughed at myself. Went pee, got back into bed and started feeling crampy again. I sat up because of the discomfort and suddenly felt a huge gush, like I had peed the bed. No doubt about it, my water had broken. So I woke D up and he hopped in the shower while I called the doctor’s answering service and started packing up while waiting to get a call back. A few minutes later I heard from my doctor, who told me to take our time and get something to eat, take a shower, and plan on getting into the hospital around 6 a.m. I took a nice long shower, threw the sheets in the wash, ate some breakfast and then we loaded everything into the car. It felt surreal leaving the house.
On our way to the hospital we called my brother since he and his wife would be staying with our dogs, and I called my parents to let them know today was the day. I had several contractions during the 35 minute drive, but they weren’t coming at any regular intervals and were only mildly painful. We checked into triage and they hooked me up to the monitors and checked my cervix. I was 2.5 cm. Unfortunately, the baby’s heart rate kept dropping with contractions, so they monitored me for two hours, before deciding the baby was handling the contractions better. About this time, a doctor came by to introduce herself, and let me know she was an associate of my doctor’s and would be delivering our baby, as my doctor was just finishing up a 24-hour shift. I was disappointed that my own doctor would not be delivering me, but I already knew this was a possibility. Besides, from what I had heard, the nurses do most of the work, anyway, and the doctor essentially shows up at the end to catch the baby.
Since my contractions were still coming at irregular intervals, the doctor sent us to walk around the hospital and told us to check back in after two hours – or sooner if I was able to get my contractions coming every 5 minutes for an hour. After grabbing a bagel for me and a coffee for D, we started walking. Within about 20 minutes the contractions were coming between 2-5 minutes apart. After an hour of that, I wanted to check back into triage, but we decided to take a seat to see if they kept up their frequent intervals once we stopped walking. Unfortunately, sitting down caused them to slow to about 7-8 minutes apart, so after a quick rest, we were up and walking again. The contractions were progressively getting more painful. D was good about keeping me in good spirits and when a particularly strong one brought me to tears, he joked, “don’t worry, I’m sure that’s the worst one you’ll have.”
By 9:50 a.m. the contractions were coming one on top of the other, even while sitting, so we checked back into triage. They were happy with the progress, so admitted me and got us checked into our birthing suite. The room was really nice and spacious, which is a good thing, since little did we know, we were about to spend a looong time there. They checked my cervix again and I was only at 3 cm, which was a bit disappointing after all that contracting. Any movement would send me into a contraction, yet lying still on the bed made the contractions feel worse, so I had no choice but to keep moving, essentially having nonstop contractions. The nurse called it a “twitchy uterus.” I tried everything the birthing suite had to offer in an attempt to get comfortable – the shower, the birthing ball, leaning over the bed, the jacuzzi tub. I had wanted to hold off on the epidural for as long as possible for several reasons: first of all, I was terrified of the idea of being paralyzed to the bed, and knew that once I got the epidural, there was no turning back. I was also afraid of the epidural stalling labor. Finally, I was petrified of getting a giant needle stuck in my back and any possible complications that could arise from that. But by 1 p.m., after 4 and a half hours of active labor and little rest, I had reached my breaking point. I wanted the epidural and I needed it now.
The anesthesiologist arrived relatively quickly – within about 10 minutes – but those 10 minutes were pure agony. Remember, my contractions were coming right on top of each other, so I had to endure about 8-10 more of them while we waited, with each one progressively worst than the last. Worst pain I’d ever felt in my life. I honestly have no idea how women do this naturally. While we were waiting for the anesthesiologist, the nurse explained the procedure and warned me that I’d have to sit perfectly still while the doctor was inserting the needle into my spine. She said it was very likely I would have a contraction during the procedure and that it was imperative that I didn’t move. We decided to take the next couple contractions to practice holding perfectly still. It was impossible, which terrified me, but what other choice did I have? Fortunately, the anesthesiologist was amazing. He was able to prep the site during a particularly painful contraction and had the needle ready to go the second it subsided. He worked quickly, and by the time the next contraction peaked, I was all done and taped up. I could have kissed him. And the needle wasn’t even that painful. I’d had worse IV stabs and blood draws that day alone. The nurse warned me that it could take up to 15 minutes to take effect, but after only 5 minutes I suddenly realized I hadn’t felt a contraction in a while. Worried that I had stopped contracting, I asked the nurse. She pointed to the monitor and told me I had just had a monster one. I hadn’t felt a thing!
From that point on, the entire vibe of the room changed. My legs felt heavy and fuzzy, and I suddenly realized just how exhausted I was. The nurses dimmed the lights, D made some phone calls and took a nap, and I alternated between snoozing, chatting with the nurses and updating friends via text. I also talked to my parents and gave them an update. I remember at this point thinking how much I loved epidurals. They checked my cervix again and told me I was at a 5 and 75% effaced.
Unfortunately, after a few hours on the epidural, the nurses were concerned with my lack of progression. My contractions had slowed (as I had feared they might), and they were becoming weaker and slower. I was disappointed when the nurse suggested starting a Pitocin drip. I was fearing an epidural-Pitocin domino effect — where the epi slows contractions, which needs Pitocin to pick them up again, which makes contractions stronger and requires more epidural to relieve the pain, which leads to more Pitocin… eventually this can lead to “failure to progress,” resulting in a C-section, which I so desperately wanted to avoid. The nurse assured me they would start with the lowest dose possible, though, so I agreed. I’m not one to argue with medical professionals, though the fear was definitely in the back of my mind. Well, after an hour or so on the Pitocin, I was feeling contractions again, so I did end up upping my epidural. This caused my right leg to go completely dead. While I could wiggle the toes on my left foot, and could still move my leg just a little bit, my right leg was completely paralyzed. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to push effectively with the dead weight on my right side. A couple hours later they had to up my Pitocin yet again, and then I could feel the contractions again. But between the fear of the domino effect and the dead leg (which was honestly worse than being able to feel the contractions through the epi), I decided to just deal with it.
In addition to feeling contractions again and dealing with dead leg, we were also starting to get concerned with something a little more serious: infection. It had now been 12 hours since my water had broken, and the nurse had been periodically taking my temperature to make sure I wasn’t developing a fever. Well, at one point, my temperature was a little over 100, which was concerning. Especially since I had been given acetaminophen (Tylenol) intravenously an hour earlier for a headache. Since acetaminophen is a fever reducer, who knows how much higher it would have been without the acetaminophen. They drew some blood and there was some talk about giving me antibiotics, but to this day I’m still not sure what ever came of that. No one ever seemed to have an answer, though both the baby and I were very closely monitored throughout our stay at the hospital for signs of sepsis (thankfully we passed and were released on time).
By now it was around 5 p.m., and I was feeling incredibly antsy. The nurse checked my cervix and told me I was around 8-9 centimeters. Knowing I was so close (or so I thought) to finally meeting my baby made me really impatient. The nurse told me we would probably get to start pushing around 6:30. Well, 6:30 came and went, and I was still around 9 cm. They told me we’d push around 7:30. That came and went, and I was ready to lose my mind. About this time, the nurse’s shift change happened, and we had to say goodbye to the nurse and nursing student who had been tending to me all day. Before the nurse left, she gave me a pep talk about poop. She said that so many women irrationally fear pooping during delivery, but that if I’m pushing correctly, I WILL poop. She said everyone poops during delivery, and if they claim they didn’t, they are either lying or don’t realize they did. That or they weren’t pushing correctly. Her final words to me before she left were something like, “Remember, I want you to poop. Don’t fear the poop.”
Finally around 8:00, they checked me and I was 10 cm. They wanted me to “labor down” for an hour (let the contractions move the baby down without pushing to conserve energy), and then we would start pushing at 9. The new nurse explained the pushing process while we labored down, and I was surprised to learn it would just be the three of us in the room – the nurse, D and me. For some reason I always pictured there being multiple medical staff in the room and a generally more chaotic vibe. But the lights were still dim, and it was quiet and calm in there. She started talking about D holding one leg while she held the other, and D almost passed out just talking about it. I explained to her that he was really squeamish and she said it was no problem. I could labor on my side and we’d just hold one leg up. It sounded odd to me (I always pictured pushing in a semi-sitting up position), but this actually worked out well, since my right leg was still totally dead. I would lay on my right side so I wouldn’t have to move that leg, and then I would pull my left knee toward my chest and with my hand, while she simultaneously pushed on my foot. Around 9:10 we were ready to start and when she told me to push, it felt like this weird out-of-body experience. We were actually doing this, and yet it was nothing like I imagined it would be or like you see in the movies. There was no screaming, no cursing D for getting me into this mess… well, at least not coming from our room. There was a natural birth going on next door and we had just listened to some woman scream her head off for the past hour. I felt bad, but D and I couldn’t help giggling about it. Now that was straight out of the movies! Dead leg aside, I was sooo glad I had gotten an epidural.
The other thing about pushing that I hadn’t anticipated was that it takes a really long time! For over 2 hours I pushed three times with every contraction, with about a minute of rest in between. It was incredibly exhausting, but I was working as hard as I possibly could. I wanted this baby out already! I kept remembering what the nurse had said about not “fearing the poop” and I really do think it helped me to push effectively and without inhibition. To this day I have no idea whether I did or not, but the point is that I didn’t care. Not one bit. Funny how of all the things that were going through my head during this time pushing, the one that stands out the most for me is just how hungry I was. I hadn’t been allowed to eat anything since about 8 a.m. that morning and I was working harder than I’d ever worked in my life. I felt so weak. Then again, I can see why they don’t want you to eat, because I ended up throwing up during my first several pushes (between pooping and puking, giving birth really isn’t very glamorous). The nurse said the vomiting is very common, and I’m glad there was nothing in my stomach besides water to throw up.
The pushing was beyond exhausting. The nurse was very encouraging – almost too encouraging, though. With every push, she made it sound like we were almost there. I felt like this baby would never come out. Finally, I could feel that the baby was crowning. Even with the epidural, I felt like I had a bowling ball between my legs, and could feel what’s known as the “ring of fire” as the baby’s head was coming out. Aaaand… it was at that point where the nurse told me to stop pushing so she could call the doctor in. Wait, WHAT?! Let me tell you something about giving birth: when the baby is right there, you can’t not push. It was torture.
The doctor arrived about 5 minutes later, and then spent an additional 5 minutes putting on what looked like a hazmat suit. Finally she was ready, and about three pushes later, Theo was born. He came out screaming mad – my first vision of him was his face coming toward me as the nurse handed him to me with his mouth wide open, screaming his head off, lower lip quivering. I love that lower lip quiver and it makes it hard to get frustrated with him when he cries because it is just so darn cute. Despite D’s squeamishness with the birth, he was right there with the camera as soon as Theo was out. One thing we both noticed was that he was not as gross looking as some babies are when they are first born. Yeah, yeah, I know. All parents probably think that. But really, despite some massive cone head from being in the birth canal for so long, he was otherwise a very cute baby right from the start. His skin was pink, not gray, and he wasn’t covered in vernix like many babies are. The nurse put him on my chest, skin-to-skin, where we stayed for the first hour of his life. They were able to clean him off while he was on my chest, and we got to try breastfeeding (wasn’t terribly successful, though we’re doing great now). I was so enamored with him that I was only vaguely aware some time later that the doctor was stitching me up. I asked her if I tore badly and she said it was a second degree tear in two places, along with some “abrasions” that wouldn’t need stitches but might cause me some pain. D and I looked down at Theo’s already long nails and D surmised that he was probably clawing his way out (ha). About this point I realized that I hadn’t even noticed that I had delivered the placenta. For some reason I had pictured that feeling like a second birth, but I hadn’t even noticed it happening. After an hour of snuggling our new baby, they took him to the other side of the room to take his measurements and give him his first vaccines.
After they returned him to me, we spent another hour snuggling him, and then they transferred us to our postpartum room. It was significantly smaller than our birthing suite, but we were so exhausted that we didn’t care. All we wanted to do was get some sleep. Of course, we would soon learn that Theo had other plans for us that night…
Whew! That was a marathon of a post so I’ll cut it off there. I’ll plan to write another post soon recapping our first week. To be continued…
Love at first sight.8 lbs. 3.6 ozThe trademark lip quiver.
Made it to 40 weeks. Made it past 40 weeks. Ready to have this baby already. I swear, everyone I know is calling, emailing, texting, IM’ing, Facebook messaging, sending smoke signals… asking me how I’m doing. I know everyone means well, but I’m cranky about being overdue and it just sucks to have to keep telling people, “nope, not yet.” I even posted on Facebook this morning www.haveyouhadthatbabyyet.com … you know, just in case anyone was wondering.
I really hope this is my last weekly update. At 40 weeks…
Baby has been served his eviction notice. He’s ready for the outside world and is just being stubborn now. He still rolls from side to side, though he seems to definitely prefer my right side. My belly is no longer round and cute. It’s frequently lopsided due to his right-side preference. It’s also very large and very low. I’ve carried pretty low this entire pregnancy, but with him dropping recently he takes low to a whole new level. The good news is, he isn’t in my ribs as much anymore, though he does work a foot up there every now and then and it HURTS because he’s so big. Mostly he just puts a LOT of pressure on my bladder and cervix with his giant head and he likes to play with my hip bone, which feels weird.
Mama has perfected the pregnant waddle. I just can’t help it, he’s so low! Lost .2 lbs this week for a total gain now of 29.2 lbs. Still no stretch marks or major swelling, though I have had to take my rings off a few times recently with the heat wave we’ve been having. It was in the high 70s to low 80s all weekend, which is very warm for this time of year in the Pacific Northwest! But other than a bit of heat-induced swelling, I do feel very fortunate that I’ve managed to escape the major swelling and “cankles” many women get toward the end of their pregnancy. Of course, it’s not over yet. Come on baby, get out already!
This weekend was spent doing a lot of walking and eating spicy food. I know they may be wives’ tales, but I’m ready to try just about anything at this point. Last night I experienced what I thought might have been the start of labor. I was getting contractions pretty consistently about every 10 minutes for over an hour, but they were mostly Braxton Hicks, with a few painful ones thrown in. I went to bed, figuring I would wake up if they got any more intense, and by this morning they were mostly gone. I’ve had a few irregular contractions this morning, but definitely not as frequent as they were last night. If it had been the real deal they would have progressively gotten stronger and closer together.
I can’t believe how big he is getting! And I think he is starting to look more and more like D. I am going to try to find some baby pictures of D for comparison.
Keeping up with the Hoffmans 