Well, it seems like forever since I've posted. Things have been really busy around here. I went back to work on January 4th. The first several times I was in my office, I was really shaky and thought I just might burst into tears if anyone looked at me funny. I really wish that I didn't have to work, but I do. Fortunately, we have schedules flexible enough that we can get by with part-time babysitters. I can work from home a fair amount even when the babysitters are here, so I can nurse Sarah while I type and take a break to put Nicholas down for his nap and things like that. I'm starting to get more comfortable with that, and I'm counting the days till summer when I can be with them all the time.
The kids are doing great. Sarah's six months old as of Sunday. She has one tooth and is working on a second. She seems to be bypassing sitting up in favor of crawling, and is far more mobile than I thought she would by at this age! She's sleeping about 12-13 hours at night (waking up several times to nurse, of course) and really doesn't like to nap during the day. At six months, she's doubled her birth weight, so she's now 16 lbs. 10 oz. and 26.5 inches long. My family is stunned, since that's what I weighed at 11 months. It's so much fun to make her laugh, and she's started patting me on the back when I pick her up.
Nicholas is almost 18 months, and we'll finalize his adoption in a month. He's starting to learn more English words. We're working on parts of the body, and he can reliably identify his belly button and usually his nose, ears, toes, thumb, and knees. What really cracks me up right now is that Mr. X "beeps" his nose, but he says "a-00-gah" when he does it. So, now Nicholas can't actually say "nose," but he points to his nose and says "a-oo-gah" all the time. He also loves to say "dog" and "woof-woof." But right now, everything says "woof-woof" . . . including the babies in his favorite book. Yesterday, I had to go in to the office, and he actually grabbed my legs, looked up at me, and shouted "mama!" I hate to leave when he's unhappy, but it seems like a good thing (attachment-wise) that he doesn't want me to go.
So, anyway, I've been a basket case since my last post about leaving them and going to work. I've been dreading it for a long time, and I've gone through such a jumble of emotions. I'm sad and worried about leaving them, guilty when I sit and enjoy a few minutes alone, embarrassed and overwhelmed with all of the tasks that don't get done, thrilled with the kids and how much I love them . . . it's been a lot to sort through.
Well, that's all for now. Time to hang up some laundry and figure out what else needs to be done before bed!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Hooray for nice nurses
Sarah had her 4-month checkup yesterday. I was getting her ready, and really wanting to appear to be Super Competent Mom at the doctor's office. Because it's so dry here, you're only supposed to bathe babies 2 or 3 times a week. It was bath day, so I was getting her all ready. I started working on her cradle cap. Hate the cradle cap! I think I've got it all, and then I'll see her head in a different light, and I'm horrified that I missed a ton of it. Mr. X thinks I'm obsessed. So, I was trying to loosen the cradle cap so I could get it off while she was in the tub. Finally, Mr. X said "um, she just has to be clean, right?" Fine, fine. Point taken.
So, I gave her her bath and got her all dressed. I grabbed an extra outfit because she did have a blowout once at the doctor's office, and I wanted to be the Prepared Mom. We finally made it (late), and I walked in . . . and realized I had left the diaper bag at home. Great. I really need to remember these when I want to impress people that that whole "pride" thing really doesn't work out for me!
The assistant weighed and measured her, and then, while we were waiting for the doctor, I nursed her. And then she pooped. Great. Thank God, I had extra diapers and wipes in the car. I ducked out of the exam room (with the baby in her diaper and wrapped in a blanket) and said to the assistant, "I'm just running out to the car. I have extra diapers out there, and she just pooped." The guy in the waiting room was laughing as I ran by. At least he wasn't laughing in a mean way.
So, she's 14 lbs. 15 oz. How serious are the bassinet makers about that 15 pound weight limit? She's in a cosleeper bassinet in our room (just for when I'm not in the room--when we sleep, she's in the bed with us), and then we have a pack-n-play set up as the bassinet, and she likes to look at the mobile and roll around in there every once in a while. But, of course, they both have a 15-pound limit. I don't know what to do in the bedroom once the bassinet's gone. Her crib's a little bit big to fit next to the bed. We've thought about just putting rails on the bed so that she can sleep on the bed if we're not in the room, but the mattress is soft enough that we worry about her being in the bed unsupervised. (When I'm in the bed, she lies on her side, right up against me. If I move even an inch or two away, she scoots over in her sleep until she's right next to me again. And she's still swaddled for sleeping, so she really can't roll in her sleep yet, since her arms are constrained.) Right now, I'm thinking of putting a firmer mattress (like a little pack-n-play mattress or bassinet mattress) on top of our mattress and then putting rails on the bed. Oh, well. We'll see.
She's also 25.5 inches long, which means she's long for her weight--and tall! Clearly, she takes after her father. She'll probably be taller than me by the time she's 10.
Today, I took her for her immunizations. Because of our insurance, we take the kids to the HMO instead of to our family doctor (my NaPro doctor) for their immunizations. Thank God, we got a good nurse. We're doing the Dr. Sears staggered vaccine schedule, so she's had immunizations at 2, 3, and 4 months now.
At 2 and 4 months, she's had the DTaP shot and the oral rotavirus vaccine. At the 2 month appointment, I didn't know what to expect, since I hadn't done this before. I had Sarah on my lap, and the nurse stuck the ampule with the rotavirus vaccine into her mouth, squirted all the liquid in at once, and then squeezed her jaw shut. The poor little thing screamed, and half the liquid came out, and the nurse said "that's fine. That always happens. She got enough of it." OK . . . Then, she had me put her down on the table for the shot, and she cried and cried.
Today, we had a different nurse. She squeezed a little tiny drop of the rotavirus stuff into her mouth and let her taste it and swallow it, and then gave her a little bit at a time until she'd had the whole thing. It took a couple of minutes, but she was happy and got a lot more of the vaccine inside of her. I mean, it's sugary, so most babies should like it if they get to actually taste it, shouldn't they? Then I held her on my lap for the shot, and she didn't cry at all! I couldn't believe it! Not one little tear. She immediately turned her head and started rooting, so she definitely wanted to be comforted, but there was no crying! What a difference! It really made me annoyed with that first nurse, though.
Next week, Nicholas has to have his second dose of H1N1 vaccine and the varicella vaccine. Ugh. He's really good about getting shots, but I hate to see him cry after he's had the shot. He's amazingly tough for such a little guy. He cries, but only for a few seconds, and then he's back to his happy little self. But, especially since he hasn't been home for very long, I hate to hold him while they give him the shots, because I feel like he's just learning to trust me.
So, wow--two posts in one day! Pretty crazy. I should run. The kids are asleep, and I want to make some progress on the screen we're making to cover the railing in our living room where the spindles are too far apart. Here's hoping for a good night's sleep!
So, I gave her her bath and got her all dressed. I grabbed an extra outfit because she did have a blowout once at the doctor's office, and I wanted to be the Prepared Mom. We finally made it (late), and I walked in . . . and realized I had left the diaper bag at home. Great. I really need to remember these when I want to impress people that that whole "pride" thing really doesn't work out for me!
The assistant weighed and measured her, and then, while we were waiting for the doctor, I nursed her. And then she pooped. Great. Thank God, I had extra diapers and wipes in the car. I ducked out of the exam room (with the baby in her diaper and wrapped in a blanket) and said to the assistant, "I'm just running out to the car. I have extra diapers out there, and she just pooped." The guy in the waiting room was laughing as I ran by. At least he wasn't laughing in a mean way.
So, she's 14 lbs. 15 oz. How serious are the bassinet makers about that 15 pound weight limit? She's in a cosleeper bassinet in our room (just for when I'm not in the room--when we sleep, she's in the bed with us), and then we have a pack-n-play set up as the bassinet, and she likes to look at the mobile and roll around in there every once in a while. But, of course, they both have a 15-pound limit. I don't know what to do in the bedroom once the bassinet's gone. Her crib's a little bit big to fit next to the bed. We've thought about just putting rails on the bed so that she can sleep on the bed if we're not in the room, but the mattress is soft enough that we worry about her being in the bed unsupervised. (When I'm in the bed, she lies on her side, right up against me. If I move even an inch or two away, she scoots over in her sleep until she's right next to me again. And she's still swaddled for sleeping, so she really can't roll in her sleep yet, since her arms are constrained.) Right now, I'm thinking of putting a firmer mattress (like a little pack-n-play mattress or bassinet mattress) on top of our mattress and then putting rails on the bed. Oh, well. We'll see.
She's also 25.5 inches long, which means she's long for her weight--and tall! Clearly, she takes after her father. She'll probably be taller than me by the time she's 10.
Today, I took her for her immunizations. Because of our insurance, we take the kids to the HMO instead of to our family doctor (my NaPro doctor) for their immunizations. Thank God, we got a good nurse. We're doing the Dr. Sears staggered vaccine schedule, so she's had immunizations at 2, 3, and 4 months now.
At 2 and 4 months, she's had the DTaP shot and the oral rotavirus vaccine. At the 2 month appointment, I didn't know what to expect, since I hadn't done this before. I had Sarah on my lap, and the nurse stuck the ampule with the rotavirus vaccine into her mouth, squirted all the liquid in at once, and then squeezed her jaw shut. The poor little thing screamed, and half the liquid came out, and the nurse said "that's fine. That always happens. She got enough of it." OK . . . Then, she had me put her down on the table for the shot, and she cried and cried.
Today, we had a different nurse. She squeezed a little tiny drop of the rotavirus stuff into her mouth and let her taste it and swallow it, and then gave her a little bit at a time until she'd had the whole thing. It took a couple of minutes, but she was happy and got a lot more of the vaccine inside of her. I mean, it's sugary, so most babies should like it if they get to actually taste it, shouldn't they? Then I held her on my lap for the shot, and she didn't cry at all! I couldn't believe it! Not one little tear. She immediately turned her head and started rooting, so she definitely wanted to be comforted, but there was no crying! What a difference! It really made me annoyed with that first nurse, though.
Next week, Nicholas has to have his second dose of H1N1 vaccine and the varicella vaccine. Ugh. He's really good about getting shots, but I hate to see him cry after he's had the shot. He's amazingly tough for such a little guy. He cries, but only for a few seconds, and then he's back to his happy little self. But, especially since he hasn't been home for very long, I hate to hold him while they give him the shots, because I feel like he's just learning to trust me.
So, wow--two posts in one day! Pretty crazy. I should run. The kids are asleep, and I want to make some progress on the screen we're making to cover the railing in our living room where the spindles are too far apart. Here's hoping for a good night's sleep!
Birth Story Part I
When I went to bed on Wednesday night (July 22nd), I was really hoping we'd be going to the hospital the next day. My induction was scheduled for 6am on Friday, and I really, really did not want to be induced.
I woke up at 4am. I had been having contractions off and on since the 10th, but the contractions were finally starting to feel uncomfortable. I decided to time them. I dozed off and on while sort of timing contractions until 4:30. By then, the contractions were about 3-4 minutes apart. I got up for water and to see if changing position slowed them down. It didn’t. I got back into bed with the Bradley method book to check out the signs of labor. Mr. X half woke up and we had the following conversation:
Mr. X: Are you OK?
Me: I think this might be it. The contractions are uncomfortable, and they're three or four minutes apart.
Mr. X: OK (rolls over and goes back to sleep).
Hmm. Clearly not really awake.
I kept on reading the Bradley manual and timing contractions. Then, at 5:05 I felt a sharp pain. It felt--really--like the baby had punched me in the cervix. Then I felt the water come rushing out.
This time, I woke up Mr. X for real and told him “this is it—contractions are 3 or 4 minutes apart and my water just broke.” I managed to scoot myself out of bed and walked like a penguin (with my knees together, that is) to the bathroom and into the tub. I managed not to ruin the mattress or the carpet, thank you very much.
Once I was in the tub, I was a bit concerned because the water was light brown, like weak tea, and there was a lot of it. It really broke with a gush. Mr. X called the doula to let her know what was up. I talked to her, too, and called back a few minutes later because I was concerned about whether there was too much pink in the fluid—she told me it was normal and that we should wait for a good pattern of active labor before going to the hospital. In spite of all my reading, I wasn't sure what that actually meant. She told me that, at that point, I wouldn’t be able to talk to her while I was having a contraction.
I hung up and got back in the tub. I was a bit worried because I hadn’t felt the baby move in a little while, and I wasn’t sure if she had moved since my water broke, so I started drinking a root beer in hopes that the sugar would make her move around. I started to feel her move pretty soon, so that calmed me down a lot. Mr. X brought me a stool to sit on in the tub. After each contraction, more fluid came out. I realized that my fears that my water would break and I would think I only had wet my pants were groundless, since there seemed to be tons of it. (Apparently, the body keeps producing amniotic fluid until the baby's actually born--I didn't know that before.)
Mr. X brought me a chicken sandwich and a sports drink so I’d have some energy, and I ate them in the tub. After a little while, I showered and put on the clothes I had put aside for labor—yoga pants and a t-shirt—and got back in bed. Mr. X started timing contractions. The contractions got to be stronger and more uncomfortable, but not closer together. During the relaxation practice we did for our Bradley classes, back rubs and guided relaxation/massage (where he would say “you’re in a hot shower and the water’s running down your arms . . .” while massaging my arms, and that sort of thing) were what I liked best. Mr. X did some of that in between contractions, but during contractions I was OK with him just keeping a hand on me, not doing anything that would jostle me at all. Between 9 and 10, we decided to get ready to go to the hospital. Mr. X loaded the car and called the doctor and the doula. The hospital’s about half an hour away. My parents were all excited and decided to follow us to the hospital after a little while, expecting there would be a baby by afternoon. It turned out to be quite a bit longer than they expected . . .
I woke up at 4am. I had been having contractions off and on since the 10th, but the contractions were finally starting to feel uncomfortable. I decided to time them. I dozed off and on while sort of timing contractions until 4:30. By then, the contractions were about 3-4 minutes apart. I got up for water and to see if changing position slowed them down. It didn’t. I got back into bed with the Bradley method book to check out the signs of labor. Mr. X half woke up and we had the following conversation:
Mr. X: Are you OK?
Me: I think this might be it. The contractions are uncomfortable, and they're three or four minutes apart.
Mr. X: OK (rolls over and goes back to sleep).
Hmm. Clearly not really awake.
I kept on reading the Bradley manual and timing contractions. Then, at 5:05 I felt a sharp pain. It felt--really--like the baby had punched me in the cervix. Then I felt the water come rushing out.
This time, I woke up Mr. X for real and told him “this is it—contractions are 3 or 4 minutes apart and my water just broke.” I managed to scoot myself out of bed and walked like a penguin (with my knees together, that is) to the bathroom and into the tub. I managed not to ruin the mattress or the carpet, thank you very much.
Once I was in the tub, I was a bit concerned because the water was light brown, like weak tea, and there was a lot of it. It really broke with a gush. Mr. X called the doula to let her know what was up. I talked to her, too, and called back a few minutes later because I was concerned about whether there was too much pink in the fluid—she told me it was normal and that we should wait for a good pattern of active labor before going to the hospital. In spite of all my reading, I wasn't sure what that actually meant. She told me that, at that point, I wouldn’t be able to talk to her while I was having a contraction.
I hung up and got back in the tub. I was a bit worried because I hadn’t felt the baby move in a little while, and I wasn’t sure if she had moved since my water broke, so I started drinking a root beer in hopes that the sugar would make her move around. I started to feel her move pretty soon, so that calmed me down a lot. Mr. X brought me a stool to sit on in the tub. After each contraction, more fluid came out. I realized that my fears that my water would break and I would think I only had wet my pants were groundless, since there seemed to be tons of it. (Apparently, the body keeps producing amniotic fluid until the baby's actually born--I didn't know that before.)
Mr. X brought me a chicken sandwich and a sports drink so I’d have some energy, and I ate them in the tub. After a little while, I showered and put on the clothes I had put aside for labor—yoga pants and a t-shirt—and got back in bed. Mr. X started timing contractions. The contractions got to be stronger and more uncomfortable, but not closer together. During the relaxation practice we did for our Bradley classes, back rubs and guided relaxation/massage (where he would say “you’re in a hot shower and the water’s running down your arms . . .” while massaging my arms, and that sort of thing) were what I liked best. Mr. X did some of that in between contractions, but during contractions I was OK with him just keeping a hand on me, not doing anything that would jostle me at all. Between 9 and 10, we decided to get ready to go to the hospital. Mr. X loaded the car and called the doctor and the doula. The hospital’s about half an hour away. My parents were all excited and decided to follow us to the hospital after a little while, expecting there would be a baby by afternoon. It turned out to be quite a bit longer than they expected . . .
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Hello again
Wow, I can't believe it's been more than two months since I've posted! Time just passes so quickly. If I don't respond to e-mail immediately, then by the time I get back to it, weeks have passed. So, before the next thing happens, here's a super quick update.
Things are going pretty well around here. Mr. X has gone back to work and even went on a week-long business trip. Our little guy is sleeping through the night (mostly) in his crib in his own room, and the baby is still cosleeping with us.
I've been wavering on what to call the kids, since I don't want to use their real names, so I'm just going to give them names that I like but can't actually use because they don't work with our last name. Their blog names are hereby Sarah and Nicholas.
So. Nicholas started walking a month ago and is getting to be really good at it. In the three months he's been home with us, he's cut eight teeth. Eight. Teeth. Two of his eyeteeth came through last night. He's working on his molars and eyeteeth simultaneously.
Sarah is four months old. About a month ago, she discovered her toes and rolled from back to front on the same day. She rolled front to back two days later. She also started teething a bit before she hit three months. I didn't think babies started teething that young, but both grandmas saw her drooling and gumming everything in sight and declared her to be teething. When both grandmas say so, there's no arguing with that. No teeth yet, though.
The kids were baptized, which was amazing. We had them baptized at mass, which our parish rarely does. Nicholas was an angel and charmed the whole congregation when he clapped along with them after the baptism. Sarah was a bit fussy because she was hungry and wearing an uncomfortable dress. By the way, the christening gowns you can buy today are slippery! The one I wore when I was baptized was a sweet, simple cotton dress (that was way too small for Sarah), but I couldn't find anything like it!
The kids are adorable and happy, and they seem to like each other, too. Sarah loves to watch Nicholas play, and she gives him some of her best smiles and giggles. Nicholas actually talks baby talk to her. Of course, with the language change, he doesn't say many words yet at all, but he babbles constantly. We can tell he's talking baby talk to Sarah because he smiles and his voice gets very high-pitched. It's so stinking cute! He is very gentle with her (most of the time) and offers her his Cheerios, which are one of his absolute favorite foods. He's doing really well with the transition, and in the last few weeks, he's been giving me lots of big hugs, calling me "mama," and even gave me a kiss for the first time.
So, I'm going to try to post again. I'm starting to get a handle on things. I have the first installment of Sarah's birth story saved on blogger, but it's so boring! I wrote it right after she was born, and it's bare bones because I was just trying to write down the facts so I would remember them. I'll try to make it a bit more interesting and then post it. We'll see how that goes!
Things are going pretty well around here. Mr. X has gone back to work and even went on a week-long business trip. Our little guy is sleeping through the night (mostly) in his crib in his own room, and the baby is still cosleeping with us.
I've been wavering on what to call the kids, since I don't want to use their real names, so I'm just going to give them names that I like but can't actually use because they don't work with our last name. Their blog names are hereby Sarah and Nicholas.
So. Nicholas started walking a month ago and is getting to be really good at it. In the three months he's been home with us, he's cut eight teeth. Eight. Teeth. Two of his eyeteeth came through last night. He's working on his molars and eyeteeth simultaneously.
Sarah is four months old. About a month ago, she discovered her toes and rolled from back to front on the same day. She rolled front to back two days later. She also started teething a bit before she hit three months. I didn't think babies started teething that young, but both grandmas saw her drooling and gumming everything in sight and declared her to be teething. When both grandmas say so, there's no arguing with that. No teeth yet, though.
The kids were baptized, which was amazing. We had them baptized at mass, which our parish rarely does. Nicholas was an angel and charmed the whole congregation when he clapped along with them after the baptism. Sarah was a bit fussy because she was hungry and wearing an uncomfortable dress. By the way, the christening gowns you can buy today are slippery! The one I wore when I was baptized was a sweet, simple cotton dress (that was way too small for Sarah), but I couldn't find anything like it!
The kids are adorable and happy, and they seem to like each other, too. Sarah loves to watch Nicholas play, and she gives him some of her best smiles and giggles. Nicholas actually talks baby talk to her. Of course, with the language change, he doesn't say many words yet at all, but he babbles constantly. We can tell he's talking baby talk to Sarah because he smiles and his voice gets very high-pitched. It's so stinking cute! He is very gentle with her (most of the time) and offers her his Cheerios, which are one of his absolute favorite foods. He's doing really well with the transition, and in the last few weeks, he's been giving me lots of big hugs, calling me "mama," and even gave me a kiss for the first time.
So, I'm going to try to post again. I'm starting to get a handle on things. I have the first installment of Sarah's birth story saved on blogger, but it's so boring! I wrote it right after she was born, and it's bare bones because I was just trying to write down the facts so I would remember them. I'll try to make it a bit more interesting and then post it. We'll see how that goes!
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Tough Day
I feel kind of bad even posting this with all the blessings I have, but today was a little bit rough. I woke up just feeling overwhelmed and inadequate. I mean, Mr. X and I have both been home with both kids for almost four weeks now, but I feel like we're barely taking care of things. The kids are happy (well, the little guy is as happy as he can be in this adjustment phase), healthy, fed, and clothed, which I know is the important thing. It just makes me nervous for when he goes back to work--and for when I go back to work. How are we going to do everything? And then I really hate the thought of someone else taking care of my kids! I'm feeling better now. After having a stupid argument with Mr. X, I finally told him I was feeling overwhelmed, and talking about it helped.
The babies are doing really well. The little guy is adjusting to us, and he really is just such a happy little boy! He cracked me up today when I came out of the bathroom (where I had been crying) and saw that he had put his favorite ball inside a little plastic bin and then squeezed his feet in there, too, and tried to sit down. When he saw me, he smiled and started bouncing up and down where he was sitting on the edge of the bin. The baby is doing great. She gained 13 ounces this past week, so I think we are out of the woods for now with the weight gain concern. She's getting chubby cheeks and multiple chins, so that's a good thing. Right now, we're trying to figure out how to keep her diapers from leaking. I have to admit that we haven't gotten the cloth diapering going. We put a cloth diaper on the baby for the first time when she was five days old. It was the middle of the night, I know I didn't get the diaper on her right, and she woke up two hours later with her clothes and sheets soaking wet--and that's when we saw that I was hemorrhaging and went back to the hospital. So, figuring out the cloth diapers became a low priority! Mr. X brought up the idea again a couple of weeks ago, but I suggested that we wait until our son was home a month before revisiting it--and that's coming up in a few days, which is kind of hard to believe. The issue with the baby's diapers (I think) is that she's not a round, chubby baby--she's thin for her height. So I think the issue is that the elastic around her belly and her legs just is not very tight, so when she has a really full diaper, it just goes everywhere. Right now, we have her in a disposable diaper (we just moved her to size 1) with a diaper cover over it. I think it's kind of funny, but it seems to help a bit.
Anyway, I have to run and get some sleep myself. I'm trying to hire someone as a mother's helper to come in just a few hours a week. Right now, that's definitely pushing it financially, but we can probably afford just a few hours, and I think it could make a big difference. Just to be able to get a few more things done, having someone to help so Mr. X can paint the bedroom doors, or someone to clean a bathroom or fold the laundry, or watch the kids while I shower, would be such a great thing!
I hope I'm not coming off as too whiny, but I think it's good to acknowledge the realities of the situation. I talked to a good friend when their twins (adopted as newborns) were about six months old. We had commiserated about our fertility problems and lost babies, and I was thrilled for them when they adopted. Six months in, she said to me "hard-won babies are still hard." I talked to a (married, with small children) Catholic missionary after mass on Sunday, and he said that he likes to make sure the college students he works with understand that marriage and family life are about sanctification--he said he tells them that you shouldn't get married because you want to, but because you're ready to die to self. Those have been good reminders when I feel like "we waited and wanted these babies so badly, we should do everything perfectly and be happy and grateful all the time." I do try to be grateful all the time, and I love these babies more than I knew was even possible, but it's still harder than I imagined!
The babies are doing really well. The little guy is adjusting to us, and he really is just such a happy little boy! He cracked me up today when I came out of the bathroom (where I had been crying) and saw that he had put his favorite ball inside a little plastic bin and then squeezed his feet in there, too, and tried to sit down. When he saw me, he smiled and started bouncing up and down where he was sitting on the edge of the bin. The baby is doing great. She gained 13 ounces this past week, so I think we are out of the woods for now with the weight gain concern. She's getting chubby cheeks and multiple chins, so that's a good thing. Right now, we're trying to figure out how to keep her diapers from leaking. I have to admit that we haven't gotten the cloth diapering going. We put a cloth diaper on the baby for the first time when she was five days old. It was the middle of the night, I know I didn't get the diaper on her right, and she woke up two hours later with her clothes and sheets soaking wet--and that's when we saw that I was hemorrhaging and went back to the hospital. So, figuring out the cloth diapers became a low priority! Mr. X brought up the idea again a couple of weeks ago, but I suggested that we wait until our son was home a month before revisiting it--and that's coming up in a few days, which is kind of hard to believe. The issue with the baby's diapers (I think) is that she's not a round, chubby baby--she's thin for her height. So I think the issue is that the elastic around her belly and her legs just is not very tight, so when she has a really full diaper, it just goes everywhere. Right now, we have her in a disposable diaper (we just moved her to size 1) with a diaper cover over it. I think it's kind of funny, but it seems to help a bit.
Anyway, I have to run and get some sleep myself. I'm trying to hire someone as a mother's helper to come in just a few hours a week. Right now, that's definitely pushing it financially, but we can probably afford just a few hours, and I think it could make a big difference. Just to be able to get a few more things done, having someone to help so Mr. X can paint the bedroom doors, or someone to clean a bathroom or fold the laundry, or watch the kids while I shower, would be such a great thing!
I hope I'm not coming off as too whiny, but I think it's good to acknowledge the realities of the situation. I talked to a good friend when their twins (adopted as newborns) were about six months old. We had commiserated about our fertility problems and lost babies, and I was thrilled for them when they adopted. Six months in, she said to me "hard-won babies are still hard." I talked to a (married, with small children) Catholic missionary after mass on Sunday, and he said that he likes to make sure the college students he works with understand that marriage and family life are about sanctification--he said he tells them that you shouldn't get married because you want to, but because you're ready to die to self. Those have been good reminders when I feel like "we waited and wanted these babies so badly, we should do everything perfectly and be happy and grateful all the time." I do try to be grateful all the time, and I love these babies more than I knew was even possible, but it's still harder than I imagined!
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Result
About five minutes to fall asleep, and a 2 1/2 hour nap in the crib! No way!
Jen asked where he's been sleeping--he's been on an air mattress on the floor with Mr. X for the past three weeks. Mr. X tried to get another crib nap out of him, but he wasn't really tired, so that didn't work so well--but it wasn't mutiny, just playing for a while and then whining.
In other news, I made it more than 24 hours without ibuprofen! And I have been wearing my favorite pre-pregnancy jeans--yes, they stretch, and no, I'm nowhere near my pre-pregnancy weight. Of course, I'm not trying to get to my pre-pregnancy weight right now--I've started eating more to promote milk production and, as a result, I gained a few pounds this week. But I now love my favorite jeans even more because they are so forgiving :)
And I realized I've never posted a picture of the little guy, so here are two from his first experience with Cheerios:
Contemplating this new food . . .
And declaring it good!
Jen asked where he's been sleeping--he's been on an air mattress on the floor with Mr. X for the past three weeks. Mr. X tried to get another crib nap out of him, but he wasn't really tired, so that didn't work so well--but it wasn't mutiny, just playing for a while and then whining.
In other news, I made it more than 24 hours without ibuprofen! And I have been wearing my favorite pre-pregnancy jeans--yes, they stretch, and no, I'm nowhere near my pre-pregnancy weight. Of course, I'm not trying to get to my pre-pregnancy weight right now--I've started eating more to promote milk production and, as a result, I gained a few pounds this week. But I now love my favorite jeans even more because they are so forgiving :)
And I realized I've never posted a picture of the little guy, so here are two from his first experience with Cheerios:
Contemplating this new food . . .
And declaring it good!
The Crib
Oh my. Mr. X just put the little guy in The Crib for the first time. We'll see how this nap goes . . .
It's not actually the first time--we had the crib on the high setting before the little guy arrived. We used it for his little sister for her first couple of weeks for naps and for part of the night (my mom slept in the babies' room for a while and would take her for a feeding at night), so we had it on the highest setting. We still haven't stained the second crib (which, it turns out, is fine, since we have the bassinet and the baby is co-sleeping with me now), either, so we just have the one crib in the babies' room. Since the little guy got home, we've used it just for diaper changes and sponge baths. So, the little guy is used to being in the crib for that reason.
This morning, Mr. X lowered the crib mattress to the lowest setting and we put the little guy in it to see what he thought. At first, he thought it was great fun, and if Mr. X reached his hand through the slats, he would squeal and scoot to the far corner like this was a great new game. Then he got a little fussy.
So, right now he's in the crib for sleeping, and Mr. X is on the mattress next to it. I don't hear any sounds of carnage yet . . . I'll report back later, though!
It's not actually the first time--we had the crib on the high setting before the little guy arrived. We used it for his little sister for her first couple of weeks for naps and for part of the night (my mom slept in the babies' room for a while and would take her for a feeding at night), so we had it on the highest setting. We still haven't stained the second crib (which, it turns out, is fine, since we have the bassinet and the baby is co-sleeping with me now), either, so we just have the one crib in the babies' room. Since the little guy got home, we've used it just for diaper changes and sponge baths. So, the little guy is used to being in the crib for that reason.
This morning, Mr. X lowered the crib mattress to the lowest setting and we put the little guy in it to see what he thought. At first, he thought it was great fun, and if Mr. X reached his hand through the slats, he would squeal and scoot to the far corner like this was a great new game. Then he got a little fussy.
So, right now he's in the crib for sleeping, and Mr. X is on the mattress next to it. I don't hear any sounds of carnage yet . . . I'll report back later, though!
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