Time to change pediatricians

We’re going through a tough week. River got his Hep-A vaccine a few days ago. Perhaps it was a mistake to give it to him with a cold coming on, but it has been affecting him very strongly. The fussiness, arched back of being upset and sore body parts came immediately after the shot (when the kind passserby told me I should be reported to the police for allowing him to cry). Since then, the cold symptoms have increased (runny nose, not eating like usual) together with pretty constant fussiness, clinginess and fitful sleep.

It was the flower-shaped raised rash-like thing on one of his hands that caused me to call the doctor.

We’ve gone to a pediatric group since he was born that I have been less than thrilled with. I put up with it because River hasn’t had any major medical issues since his early thrush and this office is a 20 minute walk from our house. I figured we’d stay for convenience sake as long as he was receiving frequent vaccines.

Until Mark took River to his 12-month appointment and the doctor told us that no, we couldn’t separate the MMR into three shots because they didn’t order it that way. Mark asked if there was another place we could do it and the doctor didn’t offer any ideas.

So I finally had a reason to call around. I found a small office only a few blocks further away that would separate the MMR. Not only that, they’d give River a Hep-A shot (for travel we are planning) without making me fill out paperwork and wait a week for an unfriendly nurse to evaluate my request.

So we went to the new doctor, a Russian woman, for the shot. Initially, I thought we’d go there just for the shots. It’s a hassle to change over completely, and of course a risk we’d tick people off and not be able to go back to the first group.

So when I had a question today, I called our original doctors first. They have a nurse on duty for questions and that easy availability is one thing that attracted us to the practice. Though I wasn’t too impressed with her answer a few months ago when I called after River’s first allergic reaction. “Neither sesame nor tuna are common allergens,” she told me. A quick Google search proved that wrong.

I gave them another chance today. Without asking River’s name or looking up his file, she immediately told me that what was wrong with him “has nothing to do with the vaccine.” I don’t think I even told her which vaccine we got. She said 100 is not a fever and that he must be teething. I told her he doesn’t act this way with teething and she said he must be getting a molar.

I called the new doctor. She herself called me back, an MD who remembers River and his particular circumstances. Her take was that it’s a combination of a cold or virus and the vaccine. She said his body is probably developing an immunity to hepatitis A and that is why it is acting as it is. Of course, having a cold prior to that didn’t help. She suggested we give him Tylenol and plenty of fluids. We should watch the thing on his hand and if it’s still there in a few days bring him in.

I see a reaction like this to one vaccine and I’m reaffirmed in believing that three live viruses at once is too much for his system to handle. The second doctor agrees. She thinks my concern of an overload to the immunological system of having to fight off too many viruses at once is valid.

The first office makes me feel like a pesky mother, which I’m not. I think I’ve called three times since he was born, including today. They also make me feel like I’m incompetent and can’t possibly evaluate options for myself. They go by the book, which doesn’t take into account individual circumstances. They have a my way or the highway policy. Worst of all is that they have given me WRONG information at least three times now.

I’m ready to make the move to a small, friendly, individual-oriented practice. It may not have the factory-like efficiency of the larger office nor the variety of expertise available. But we will be seen as people. We can develop a relationship with the doctor and become more than scheduled appointments. Someone will listen to us, as parents who care and do our homework. And we can listen to the doctor with more trust, knowing that we’re not just being recited a textbook. As a bonus, I like that she’s Russian and is able to look beyond what the U.S. AAP recommends, which I think can be limiting.

It’s taken me a while to get here, but now I feel relieved.

How have you found your doctors? Do you feel your pediatrician listens to you?

Flying with a year old baby

I was afraid of the four flights that made up our holiday itinerary. As I thought, it wasn’t easy, but neither was it horrible. Here are some ideas I collected and tips I learned.

1. If at all possible, travel with someone else. Having Mark there made it very manageable, if at times challenging. Doing it alone would have been exhausting.

2. Pack a lot of diapers, drinks (milk) and snacks. Those are things you don’t want to run out of. If using cloth diapers, airport travel might be a good time to make a disposable exception, unless you have extra room for soiled diapers in your carry on.

3. If you are doing elimination communication, offer baby a chance to take a pee in the toilet.

4. Taking a carseat is a pain that is best avoided. However, if you must take one, as we needed to, it has a few benefits. One, if you can get an open seat on the plane, it’s easier to strap baby into a carseat with hopes that he’ll stay there than it is to strap her into an airline seat. You might get more hands-free time on the plane. Two, the Go-go kids travel device is really as cool as I’d heard. It converts a carseat into a rolling piece of luggage, basically like a stroller. It’s lightweight and easy to roll through the airport and River was quite content being pulled in it. When you have to board shuttle buses and the like, you don’t have to disassemble a stroller, but instead just push down the handle, pick up the child in the carseat and carry it on board. It’s expensive, so it would be a better deal used, but it’s a very helpful travel tool, especially after baby has outgrown the bucket seat and stroller frame option.

5. Waiting areas offer great entertainment. The space and the interesting people around were enough to captivate River for a long time, with little need for extra toys. Another benefit of traveling with another adult is that one adult can sit with the luggage while the second follows the child’s wanderings. We had one woman approach us and thank us for making the two-hour flight delay enjoyable for her and her children. She said they entertained themselves by watching River run around and play with Mark.

6. This is just a money saver I recently learned about – long-term parking lots outside of the airport area. Longtermparking.com has a good listing of options at various airports. It’s child friendly in the sense that the shuttle buses will take you right to and from the gates – and it’s cheaper than other options.

7. As I’ve written before, do whatever you need to do to get that open seat available on the flight for baby. Two adults plus baby plus stranger in a row of three narrow seats = hell. Avoid it however possible. Also keep in mind that carseats generally are only allowed to be put in window seats.

8. To increase the odds of getting an extra seat, head for the back. If traveling with another, book a window and an aisle in a row of three and leave the middle open. Someone stuck in the middle is generally willing to trade. If you feel annoyed by the extra time or hassle it takes to head back and to get off last, remember that the survival rates in crashes are highest in back.

9. Try to board when they offer boarding to people who need special assistance if you feel you need it. If you don’t, board last and let baby run around as long as possible before having to be constrained.

Diaper Free Afternoon

“You’re a brave girl,” Mark said, when he saw me carrying bare-bottomed River. “Or you don’t like your clothes.”

“Both,” I said.

I’d wanted to have a diaper free day, or half day as it was, for a while now. During the week, I have River in the mornings, which is not his peak potty period. On the weekends, I’m usually running around with him on Saturday mornings and on Sundays we often go out and do something. Today we switched the schedule – I ran around on my own in the morning and took care of River in the afternoon.

Why did I want to have a diaper free day? 1. I wanted to see River’s patterns and signals, especially with his pees, which are harder to get than the poos. 2. I wanted River to have some time without a diaper covering him so he can begin to get a sense of what that’s like. I figured it would help with the little redness he’s had lately and maybe he’d enjoy the freedom. 3. Even if I missed the pee (as I usually did) I wanted to be able to put him on the potty immediately afterwards so that he could see that a pee and a potty were associated.

We’ve done OK with getting results when we put River on the pot. If he has something, he’ll usually go. However, we haven’t had much success yet with him communicating to us when he needs to go. We’re also going through more diapers in a day than I’d like.

To start off the experiment, I put him on the potty and nothing came. Then I put him in his highchair for lunch. After his first bite of food, a waterfall of pee cascaded off the highchair. Admittedly, that was rather gross. I tried to focus on what I learned – that perhaps food is a prelude to urination. But I also learned that it’s not much fun wiping up spills.

Nevertheless, I continued on. I kept him fenced into the kitchen for most of the day. It’s easier to clean up the tile floor there than the wooden floors elsewhere. I was busy cooking lasagna and he was busy pulling everything out of the cabinets. We had two more accidents though (none on my clothes) and I successfully caught one pee.

It was tiring because I had to pay much more attention to see if something was coming or to prevent an accident on my shirt. That was probably the main benefit of keeping the diaper off – forcing me to be much more attentive. I also had to keep him in a small area and make sure he didn’t get onto furniture or any carpets.

I hope it had a small effect by showing him that pee equals an immediate sit on the potty, moving toward an association between those things. It’s quite possible it did nothing beneficial besides giving us cute images of River scurrying about, completely and beautifully oblivious to his nakedness. And perhaps it extended my grossness boundary yet another notch.

It's Over

The breastfeeding is done – for good now. We had one rare substantial feeding during our Christmas visit home. I took River into my parent’s Jacuzzi bath and the bubbling waters must have soothed him enough to lose focus on the outside world enough to breastfeed, because it was at least a 10 minute feeding, which hadn’t happened in ages. I had that nostalgic feeling of isn’t this sweet, it’s so beautiful to look at him and spend this time with him. At the time same, the old feeling of – how long is this going to take? Are we almost done? crept up on me.

My breasts continue to produce a little milk, as though they are preparing for just in case. I have to accept it’s over though. I should be glad that I was able to give him some breastmilk as long as he wanted it – that the weaning came from his initiative, not mine. Still, little nagging thoughts ask whether if I did something differently we might have continued through the winter. Since we’re not, I’m now giving him one bag of frozen breastmilk a day until that’s all gone. We’ll stretch the immune protection out for another week or two.

“Mom excrement,” Mark called it, as he thawed a bag of it today. I never got much out of the pump, but still, it seems kind of unreal to see bags of liquid that have come from me emerging from the freezer.

So now that I’m no longer tied to River by breastfeeding, this should be the time for me to go away. It is time to find a job and I’m looking. But just when I’m able to go away, I no longer want to very much. Or, I do want to, but I don’t necessary want to be away from River. He’s so sweet and loving, he brightens my day. He’ll hold out his arms to ask for hugs during a meal, or even while on the potty. The other day he started to tap my back during the hug.

It’s no longer just me holding him while he suckles at my breast. We hug and kiss and play games and roll balls and laugh together. While losing the intimacy of breastfeeding is sad, this stage is fun enough for me to want to spend more time with him.

The Ideal Meal

Whole Foods is expensive, so I don’t go there often. But every once in a while, I like to make a trip to their salad bar, where I fill a box up with toppings. With these, I’m able to make at least two salads at home for myself, and River gets an excellent meal.

Today I piled tofu in some kind of sauce, curried cauliflower, broccoli in mayonnaise, roast turkey, edamame beans, garbanzo beans, jicama with mandarin orange, cabbage and beets onto his highchair tray. He was allowed to eat as he pleased from all the choices and a wide variety of vitamins and minerals. Such extensive choice is not practical with mom preparing the meal.

I figure the markup is worth it in order to keep his palate exposed to and liking a wide variety of foods that I’m not able to prepare very often.

Those Horrible Parent Moments

Today I had one of those horrible parent moments – the kind when you think you must be the worst parent out there. The kind when you feel sorry for your child for ending up with you. Do you get these? What inspires them?

I had made plans with a friend to meet for coffee or a walk. We arranged to meet at a coffee shop. If the weather was bad, we’d go inside. If not, we’d take a stroll.

When we met, it was chilly, but not uncomfortable, so we decided to walk. We meandered into an unfamiliar neighborhood with curving streets. A little bit of snow began to swirl through the air. The amount quickly increased, until we felt like we were walking in a snow globe. We asked a passerby how to get back to the main street and she guided us.

As we headed in that direction, the wind picked up. It was now coming directly at us, blowing cold snow into our faces. Poor little River didn’t even have gloves on. His hands were bright red.

I joked to my friend how so many parents have super fancy strollers that wrap their offspring in a bubble, protecting them from all the elements.

“Now is the one time I could use one,” I said. Not only was I negligent in not putting mittens on River (I still can’t figure out how to get mittens to stay on his hands, so I generally don’t bother) but I was negligent in not getting a sufficiently weather-proof stroller.

“Then again,” I thought out loud. “How many of those parents are out walking with their babies in blizzards?”

“Not many,” my friend said, reassuring me that maybe the bubble wasn’t so practical after all.

River twitched about a bit, so I picked him up and carried him while my friend pushed the stroller. He’d occasionally blow raspberries of frustration as snow landed on his cheeks and eyes, but generally seemed willing to trust me. I felt awful, but there was nothing I could do but try to get us home as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, we had over a mile to go.

When we passed the same lady on the street again, who must have also been out for a stroll, thinking the weather would be OK, she offered to drive us wherever we were going. It was kind of her, but we didn’t want to bother her, so we continued on.

River is close to 30 pounds and I couldn’t carry him into the wind for long. After a while, I put him back in his seat. We put my friend’s mittens over his hands and I gave him the little remainder of a bottle I had with me. We walked at a trot as the harsh wind blew straight into our faces. I pulled down the top of the stroller as much as possible, but River’s jacket was still covered with snow.

Once the little bit of milk was gone, he lost it and began to cry. I felt horrible. A deep sense of inadequacy. A confirmation that I’m doing things wrong. An understanding of how large the responsibility of parenting is. A great pity for River. I tried to hurry.

When we got home, I rushed him inside and found that his pants were wet and had leaked – just one more chill for him in the stroller. I changed him and got him a bottle, then cradled him in my arms as I massaged his frozen hands and cold limbs. I wanted to provide him as much warmth and comfort and security as possible. I was more patient than usual. I would stay there as long as he needed me. I understand how Mark must have felt after River fell off the bed in his care. I related to how he let River fall asleep in his arms and remained there with River until he’d awaken and was back to himself.

I did eventually carry River up to his crib and tucked him under an extra blanket. He awoke a few hours later, having skipped lunch, but cheerful and inquisitive as always. He didn’t seem to remember what he’d gone through in the morning. If he did, he’d decided to move on with his life. I guess I should too.

(the photo is from a happier stroller ride - yesterday)

On a Roll

It’s time for me to accept now that River is definitely getting into everything. A couple of days ago a newly married friend looked at me and said she was surprised that I didn’t seem stressed or tired. She told me about her cousin, pregnant with her third, who is exhausted from watching her two kids, especially her 1.5 year old boy, who is into everything.

Initially, I’ve looked into his curiosity with support. I’m an explorer myself, I expect that he may be also. I tend to think that he has a certain knowledge of his boundaries. Even if he doesn’t, I know that going outside those bounds is how he learns.

But I’m now learning that along with learning, comes getting hurt. There was his fall off the bed last week. This morning he caught his fingers in the cupboard. Though I rescued him within seconds, I think he still felt substantial pain. After a walk, during which he stood up in his stroller for the first time, I brought him inside. Our babysitter, Grace, was already there. There were about 30 seconds during which River crawled on the floor and neither of us were watching him carefully.

When Grace came to him, she saw a little blood on his finger. I thought it was from the cabinet incident that morning. Then we both saw a fairly deep scratch on his nose, with blood emerging from it.

Mark closes off the dangers by putting gates at the kitchen entrance and the base of the stairs. I understand that we need to do that sometimes. However, we have a small place. With those two areas closed off, River has only two small rooms to move through. It’s a very limited space for a growing boy.

Mark thinks this acknowledgement means we need a bigger house. I think I need to figure out how to balance River’s need for exploration with my responsibility to keep him safe. I imagine this is something that many parents struggle with. How do you manage this?

I think I’ll also need to bring him to areas with more space – outdoors when the weather improves – to the library or the mall until then. Especially once he starts walking, he’s going to need some room to move.

Missing my River

Today Mark and I went snowmobiling with the family. We were away from home for ten hours while my mom watched River – her first full day babysitting solo.

By four-five hours away from home, I was thinking of River and missing him a bit. Two or three hours later, I was really missing him.

“You’ve only been gone eight hours,” my brother said when I mentioned that I looked forward to seeing him.

“She hasn’t been away from him for that long in a while,” Mark said.

I spent a day in New York a few months ago, though I was with River for a couple of hours before leaving, unlike this morning, when I left shortly after he awoke. Besides that, I really haven’t been away much since my nine-day absence this summer.

By the time we were heading home, I was starting to get nervous that we wouldn’t get there before he went to bed.

“I can see River written all over your forehead,” my 11-year-old niece said, accurately.

I recognized, even then, that my missing him is like anything else I crave. Yes, it was a little difficult. But I knew that if I had to be away that once I passed that difficult moment, things would get easier again before I began to feel pangs for him again. We may have more absences from each other in the future. But for now, I’m there every day and am glad.

We did get home, just as River was going to receive his evening bottle. He smiled and danced a little happy dance when he saw me. I was able to play with him a bit and then give him his bottle. As I lay with him in a dark room, feeding him his bottle, he smiled up at me as he reached the end. Then he cooed in delight.

Perhaps it was happiness at fullness, warmth and comfort. Or perhaps, as I like to imagine, it was happiness at being in my arms, at feeling the depth of my love for him. In any case, I was happy to be with him. To wrap my arms around him, to see his smile, to feel his velvety pudginess and hear his sweet, high-pitched laugh is enough to calm me until the morning.

The pain of baby's pain

Today River had his worst ever accident and I learned how incredibly painful it is for mom and dad, as well as for baby, when baby gets hurt.

Mark was watching River while I played Scrabble with my grandma. River loves to crawl up and down beds. He’ll crawl to the foot of the bed, squeal with joy, then turn around and crawl to the headboard. Mark brought him to the bedroom so that he could relax on the bed and River could entertain himself this way.

I heard a crash and a pained “Oh no!” from Mark. It sounded like a piece of furniture fell. I imagined River crushed. I drew in a sharp breath, then waited to release it. I hurried to the bedroom and saw Mark, still on the bed, holding River upright next to it. River screamed in heart-wrenching sobs of pain. This was real pain, not the kind that would be assuaged by showing him a ceiling fan.

I picked him up and heard enough to understand that he’d fallen backwards – from a high bed onto a hard wooden floor. Perhaps I need to learn to modify my emergency reactions, but I couldn’t bring myself to look for injuries. All I wanted to do was to comfort him, to hold him, and to make him feel safe. I held him and walked slowly around the house, making soothing noises in his ear. In the meantime, my heart was crying in pain as loudly as his sobs.

My poor baby. How did I fail you enough to not protect you from this hurt? I’ll do whatever I need to do to help you feel better, to help you recover, to help you have faith in us again. Mark felt similar awful, though I was so wrapped up in River’s pain that it took me a few minutes to realize it. He walked with us, looking at River intently and asking me to give River to him, but I wouldn’t. River loves us both, but he’s had a bit of a preference for mommy lately. At a time like that, I wanted him to have whatever made him feel best, even if it made dad feel a bit worse.

Then, when Mark commented that River had blood in his mouth and I looked down enough to see a little bloody spittle running down the side of his mouth and red blood amidst his two front teeth, my heart broke just a bit further. He was really injured. The only times I’d seen his blood were when I clipped his fingernail a little too close in his first weeks, and when he’d been playing with the recyclables and cut his finger on a can. But he hadn’t even seemed to notice the second incident.

Still, I didn’t force his mouth open and inspect what was wrong there. I only felt panic and sadness to know that he was injured and I wanted only to calm him, thinking that we could deal with the injury a bit later. Eventually, he settled down a bit, and eventually, I allowed Mark to take him.

I knew that Mark probably felt a similar urge to make amends to River and I needed to allow him the space to do that. So I reluctantly went back to the Scrabble game with my grandma, where every whimper I heard sliced through me like a knife.

Once River had settled down, Mark asked me to prepare a bottle for him. I did so and River fell asleep in Mark’s arms. They sat there together for a while, then Mark put River in his crib and lay in a nearby bed beside him, unwilling to let him out of sight, unwilling to let anything happen to him again.

It turned out the blood was from River biting his tongue during the fall. Once River settled down, Mark touched his head in various places and it seemed all was OK there. When he got up from his nap he was back to being his energetic, happy, exploratory self.

But still, it was a horrible, awful experience to go through. I’m sure my heartrate was elevated for quite a while. It reminds me that even a big, strong baby like River is still fragile, that so much careful care can suddenly go down the tubes with a single accident.

I lean more on the let him explore and learn from the world than the overly cautious side. I’ve had at least two close calls with him almost falling backward (one off of a swimming pool ledge). Both times I managed to catch him with a quick grasp of his legs. Mark was less lucky this time, but it could be me next.

I think back to kids in my childhood who spoke of breaking their bones or needing stitches or other injuries and illnesses. I think of adults who recount those times from their youth. But only now, for the first time, can I understand what it’s like for the parents. I can understand the sheer panic my mom describes my dad experiencing when I fell over the side of a canoe as a toddler or when I fell through the space between a bench and its back. I can understand the panic I remember on my father’s face when my brother was choking and he quickly turned my brother upside down by the feet and pounded on his back. It’s a primal, carnal fear, a terror of so much love and so much investment lost in an instant, an acknowledgement of the child’s helplessness and a realization of the immense responsibility held by the adult.

In the same way that my love for River is deep and overwhelming and powerful beyond description, the way his hugs and his reaching out for me with a smile fill me with a radiant happiness that touches my core, seeing his pain has the opposite effect. Equally deep, equally overwhelming and powerful enough to jolt me to the core.

River's First Word

I think I’ve been hearing him say it for a while now, but in the past day or two, it’s been made official with others hearing and recognizing it as well.

River now says mama, with a clear indication that it’s me he wants.

“Congratulations,” Mark said, on me being his first word.

I suppose it’s nice and it definitely makes me feel good to see that he wants me, to know that I can comfort him and make him feel better. Those signs of affection are enough and I wouldn’t have minded if he said daddy first.

What excites me most is that he’s beginning to communicate. Soon, we’ll see the results of my experiment in bilingualism. I know other babies that are talking earlier and I have to remind myself that we can expect an average delay of two months because of him learning a second language.

His babbling has definitively taken on the sound of a foreign language lately and it’s clear he’s trying to communicate. I hear an Asian ring to many of his words – such as do-ying or digalits. I wonder if it comes from the Chinese babysitter he had during his first two months or whether that’s just how baby talk sounds. Mark thinks it sounds African, like Swahili, so maybe it’s just a matter of perspective.

Mama could be either English or Spanish, so it’s unclear where he’s headed in terms of embracing the two languages. I’m eager to hear him say his first word in Spanish and I’m curious to see what it will be. I wonder how many of his first words will be in English and how many in Spanish. I wonder how he’ll mix them, how he’ll distinguish between them, whether or not he’ll use them with the people who understand that language.

I wonder how he’ll accept it when he realizes I do speak English, just not to him. I wonder if he’ll appreciate learning a second language without really having to work at it or whether he’ll resent me and fight it.

For now, I’m trying to ensure that he has other people in his life who speak Spanish besides me (Mirena is also being raised bilingual and when she comes over, the language in the house is Spanish), especially since I’m not a native speaker. Grace also speaks to him only in Spanish. Right now, he’s probably hearing more hours per week of Spanish than he is of English. Since I know that will change as he gets older, I hope he can take advantage of it now.

At the same time, I’m thinking of taking him to Russia later this winter. We would probably stay with my friends there and be largely immersed in a Russian environment. I wonder how that would impact his language learning skills, if upon hearing those harsh, strange five-syllable words he might just throw up his hands and say, forget this, I think I’ll continue with the point and huff for a while longer. Luckily, mama would be understood, even in Russian.

Argh!

Yesterday was one of those Argh! days – the kind I had early on when I lacked sleep, the kind I had in the spring and summer when River didn’t nap and the kind I’d been happily without for a while as River was napping up to twice a day and able to happily amuse himself.

1. He is down to one nap, which is in the afternoon, when the babysitter is here.
2. He has been especially anxious, cranky and needy this week.
3. He is highly mobile now and able to get into everything, which means I have to be on increased guard for his safety and I’m constantly having to clean up after him.

A typical morning play time – River pulls all the groceries I bought the previous night out of the bag and scatters them on the kitchen floor. Then he gets into the garbage can and pulls things out piece by piece, smearing the mango skin on the floor after waving it around a bit. Next he opens a cabinet and pulls out all the baking goods, examining the bags of flour, sugar and corn starch in the process. Then he races up the stairs, heads to his toiletry shelf, and proceeds to pull each one of those items off of the shelf.

Today I handled it better because I asked Grace to come earlier and I knew my shift was limited. But she didn’t come until 1 yesterday and I was counting down the minutes to her arrival like I did during River’s first weeks. I spent too much time dealing with poop, pee, food, whines and pick-ups and I couldn’t handle any more. Please take him! I wanted to call out. I need a break.

I have great respect for the people who can take care of children all day. But yesterday reminded me that I’m not one of them. I’d go batty.

Even as I recognized I wasn’t enjoying it, I felt bad for feeling that way. Just after a disgusting poop or a tiring pick-up, he’d so something so incredibly cute (like imitating Mark in being a monster, raising his hands and growling as he leaned in the most baby-like menacing way he could into me) that I’d wonder how I could tire of being with this little creature.

In the evening, when Mirena’s mom, Carmen, came to pick her up, I told her about my frustration. I was happy to hear that she understood, doubly so now that she’s pregnant with her second and not feeling well.

“You’re lucky in that River is usually so calm,” she said. “But Mirena has always been a demanding baby. By the time David gets home, I pass her off to him and tell him she’s all his. I can’t deal with any more. David has more patience than I do.”

David is also struggling right now since he’s working on his doctorate as well as working part-time and putting in substantial baby-care hours, even more now that Carmen is pregnant again. “If I can read 10 pages while I’m watching her, I’m lucky,” he said. His tired face told me that he was at a similar point of feeling he’d had enough.

It made me feel better to hear someone else admit that even though they might love their baby to pieces, at times they need a break. For me, knowing I fully control at least a part of almost every day, knowing that there will be a period in which I can do something that doesn’t involve taking care of someone else, helps me immensely in getting through the times when the care seems overwhelming.

How do you get through the rough patches?

The Anxiety Sets In

At River’s 9-month checkup, the doctor warned us that separation anxiety was going to set in. He said that River might still be willing to smile at him at the 12-month check-up, but we could expect him to be decidedly unfriendly towards the doctor at 15 months.

I acknowledged it was possible, but I held out hope that River would beat the odds. He’d barely shown any crankiness from teething, though many babies seem to suffer. He was as willing as anyone to be dropped into another person’s arms at a moment’s notice. If anything, I feared that he’d actually be just fine without me, that if anything happened to me, he wouldn’t really need me. Which of course, is a gift for his sake, but a bit of a bummer to a parent that likes to think of themselves as necessary.

His ease at being left continued on to 12 months. I have a friend who belongs to the same health club as I do and has a son who is one month younger than River. She can’t take advantage of the handy childcare facility there because her son won’t allow her to leave him. That really sucks, I thought to myself, and felt grateful that River allows me to put him down, then promptly occupies himself without paying any attention whatsoever to where I’ve gone. That was the case only two days ago. Even today, at his 12 month appointment, the doctor commented that River was unusually lacking in anxiety.

However, little signs of increased neediness have popped up. River likes to climb up my pant legs, like a little kitten, then will make signs indicating he wants to be picked up. Sometimes it’s clear he just wants to be in my arms, being held.

This morning, when I wanted to leave to go work at the library, he did this repeatedly. Every time I put him down, he’d go right into the climb pant leg, pick me up please routine. When he saw me put on my coat, he became agitated and whiny. Oh no, the separation anxiety is here, I thought.

Today was unusual in that our babysitter came in the morning instead of the typical afternoon. I don’t know whether or not that had anything to do with it. What I do know is that it’s painful to see River upset and know that I’m the cause of it.

I can recognize that it’s natural. I realize it will probably only last a moment. I regularly see Mirena throw a fit when her parents leave, only to settle down to happy play one minute later.

Still, it makes me sad and anxious to walk out of the house knowing that he’s upset. At a time when I’m thinking that the end of breastfeeding means I can start to work more and travel, at a time when I’m applying for jobs that could require me to be away from home for weeks at a time, it would be easier to know he’s calm in my absence as he used to me.

Mark took River to his 12-month checkup today and reported that the doctor said we could expect the separation anxiety to get worse in the near future.

“How long did the doctor say it would last?” I just asked him.

“He didn’t say,” he said. “But I’d think late – years and years and years.”

Really? What have your experiences been with separation anxiety? When does it peak? When does it get better? Any tricks for handling it?

Crabby mom

I’m in a foul mood tonight. Cranky and negative for no apparent reason. Cranky enough that Mark offered to go buy me some dark chocolate, which I had expressed a craving for. That did seem to help.

I wonder if I might be PMS’ing, something I haven’t experienced in a while. Or I might be feeling blue because the breastfeeding is really reaching its end. I know I’ve written about this before. But it seems this might be the end end. There is still milk in both breasts, though River will only take the left, if that. I later discovered that the milk from the right breast now has a salty taste, so I can understand why he goes for the other.

In the past few days, he either sucks for a very short period of time, or he’ll see the breast and either turn his face away or shake his head no. Like “No mom, I’m over that now.”

OK, I’ll accept it. I really will. He’s 12 months old. He’ll be fine. I will probably have another child someday so it’s not the end of the breastfeeding experience. I will have extra freedom, like not necessarily having to get up for the morning feeding, not having to return before his bedtime feeding, not worrying about breastfeeding if I want to go out of town for a few days. Nevertheless, there’s always a certain sadness in being rejected. And a nostalgia for the special time we shared together and that he’s now moving beyond.

The new little musician

River has recently been demonstrating a clear interest in music. He’s gotten bored with his Leap Frog table, which fascinated him for a long time. He pretty much leaves it alone these days, except when he wants some music. Then he’ll touch a button that causes music to play, abandon the table and come over to me. But just before he gets to me, the music stops. So he returns to the table to push the button again and repeat the cycle. By the time he’d gone back and forth five or six times, it was clear he was just trying to get the music to play.

Yesterday a neat birthday present arrived from his grandparents – a six-sided ball with an activity on each side. One side has animals. You can push their bodies to hear the sounds they make. The other side has a keyboard. When you push the keys, you hear the notes. A few seconds after you stop pushing keys, a song will play.

River was pretty fascinated by this toy and last night, by the keyboard especially. He’d wait for the song to play, then shake his booty as he stood alongside the coffee table, or move his arm up and down to the beat.

“Look, it’s like he’s a conductor!” Mark exclaimed. “That’s amazing!”

I was impressed too, but I knew it probably wasn’t indicative of genius. I’d seen Mirena do a pretty good boogey before River did.

His appreciation for different music also seems to be increasing. Yesterday in the car, he was fussing on the way home, tired after a playdate. The Spanish songs I was playing weren’t doing anything for him. So I changed it to the funky beat of Regina Spektor. He quieted immediately and by the end of the first song, was asleep.

It’s fun to see him react to and appreciate stimuli beyond his parents or caregivers. He’s increasingly an independent part of the world and it’s exciting to see him take it in and experience it.

I’ve been trying to resist the music classes that so many parents in my community sign their babies up for. Up until now, I didn’t think he’d appreciate it much. And it’s not really in our budget at the moment. Now that he does appreciate music though, the classes start to become more tempting. I’d be glad to send him to the classes with Mark as quality daddy time. But if Mark does any classes, he wants to do Gymboree.

I guess for now I’ll try to expand the music I provide him with beyond the morning NPR and the children’s music I play in the car. I’ll try to teach him that music can continue for longer than a push of the button. But given that our CD player is broken and I usually carry my ipod with me, it might take more effort than is realistic in the near future.

One thing I think I can do a better job of is taking him to free concerts and musical events, at the library and in the community. We started yesterday by attending a jazz quartet playing at the library and listening to the high school choir sing carols on the street. Fun for us all.

Things to be grateful for

River’s birthday seems like a big marker to me and is leading me to take a look back at this life-changing year. More than anything, I feel a great deal of gratitude.

I’m grateful for River’s presence in our lives.

I’m grateful for his health and sweet, easy demeanor

I’m grateful for how he has taken me out of the rut of adulthood and helped me to look at the world in a new, refreshed way

I’m grateful we’ve had to the resources so that I haven’t been forced back to a job before I was ready

I’m grateful that relations in our family of three are good. We are all happy. We all love each other.

I’m grateful that I made it breastfeeding to 12 months. I now feel free to let it drop off and enjoy the new freedom

I’m grateful for the excellent help I’ve had, both from Mark and from our babysitters as well as friends and family

I’m grateful for the library, which offers wonderful programming for children from birth

I’m grateful for my pre-natal yoga classes, which put me in touch with like-minded moms expecting around the same time as me

I’m grateful that I’m recovering myself, physically and professionally

I’m grateful that we are living centrally and River and I can use a bicycle or stroller for most of our activities.

I’m grateful for the love I’ve received, from River, Mark, friends and family.

I’m grateful that I think I’ve done a better job at being a mother to River than I expected.

I’m grateful for the basis of a loving relationship that we’ve set.

Birthday letter to my baby

For the past seven months, I’ve been writing short letters to River at the end of each month. These are summaries of what I’ve seen in him during that month that I’m collecting to use in his baby book.

Here is the final letter from his first year:

Happy birthday my dear baby! Just one year ago you appeared in our lives. We wondered what you’d be like as a one year old – what you would look like, what your voice would sound like, what you would be capable of.

Here you are. You are a beautiful, loving, fun and happy little boy that brings so much joy into our lives. Each day you learn something new or develop a new skill. We love to see the world fresh through your eyes. Your enthusiasm is contagious. You like to start your mornings by pointing to the items on your medicine shelf. Mom hands you them one by one – your aspirin, brush, lotion, etc. and tells you what they are. You touch them briefly, play with them, then hand them back to mom, one by one, to be placed back on the shelf. You love your foil balloons, you are excited about the bus with students and a driver you received for your birthday. You enjoy being outside and will sit calmly during walks, even for two hours or more, checking out the scenery around you.

You and Mirena, who comes over twice a week, are now friends and play well together. You have a strong bond with Grace. You offer her a big smile each time she comes and she feels a similar bond with you.

You are comfortable moving now. You crawl quickly, you pull yourself up easily, you walk along surfaces, you crawl up the stairs, you love to walk with your push walker. We think you’ll be walking any day. Like all your other skills, we expect you to just wake up one morning and be on the move.

You seem to understand what we are saying these days. You are very good at indicating your wants with pointing and huffing, as well as shaking your head no. You respond to visual signals, such as a washcloth extended to wash your hands after meals, or hand extended to help you off the potty. You are now able to go potty and get yourself up when finishing, without tipping the potty. You hold out your hands when you want mommy to pick you up. Both mom and dad treasure your hugs more than anything.

You are starting to understand that are your own person. You get excited by the surprise of seeing your reflection in the oven and you seem to know that the people you see in the oven are the same people you are interacting with. You are more and more like a toddler, a little boy instead of a baby, each day.

We thank you for a wonderful year. You are our sweet child who we love so much. We can’t wait to see who you become in the next year.