Second week

Baby is sleeping 5-7 hours straight at night at less than two weeks old. This stretch usually starts around 6-8 p.m., so I’ve been getting to bed early, and spending half of each day in bed. But as long as I do so, I’m getting a decent amount of sleep. Can this last? We’ve been incredibly lucky in getting a baby that is as easy, or perhaps even easier, than the super-chill River. I feel like I’ll jinx it as soon as I believe it.

I took my first excursion alone with Willow today. We went shopping at Target and the supermarket. Both the car and the shopping cart seemed soothing to her, I selected stores where I was likely to be able to find a place to sit down and nurse, and I nursed her at the end of the visit to each store. I was prepared for disaster, but it actually went OK. I don’t think I’m up to handling two while shopping yet, but I feel a little more freedom in realizing that as long as Willow is with me, and I’m able to nurse when she needs it, I have pretty free movement. It felt like a treat to be seated with her attached to my boob and seeing something different than my bedroom or living room.

We took our first excursion as a family to a holiday light show. It was an easy trip to make in that the lights could be viewed from the car. River enjoyed it and it was good for us to spend some time together. The next night we met some friends and their baby at a restaurant for dinner. We’re taking baby steps towards resuming a more normal life.

I am so very appreciative of the little things that people do to help out when a new baby arrives, whether it’s food, grocery shopping, a gift or flowers. When you spend much of the day alone with a baby attached to you, it’s nice to be reminded of your friends. I’ve found it hard to take people up on the offers to call them if I need anything. It feels too much like asking for a favor. But I have taken up those who call or write and insist that they want to bring something over or run an errand and it’s been a huge help. Lately I’ve been pretty good about bringing over some food or sending a gift to friends with a new arrival. I will try to continue that.

Breastfeeding continues to be painful, but I’m hopeful this won’t last for more than a few more days. Our two potential problems that could be causing the pain are thrush and/or a short frenulum. Willow and I will start diflucan together on Monday and on Tuesday, we are meeting with a pediatric ear, mouth and throat specialist about the possible short frenulum. Hopefully solving one or both of these issues will make things easier. And then I’ll appreciate the fact that breastfeeding is no longer painful. Since it wasn’t painful last time, I didn’t appreciate the relative ease.

I’m getting in a decent amount of movies, and a little bit of reading. But more intensive tasks, like finishing the exam I still have to complete, are more challenging. I might get between 15 minutes and an hour a day during which Willow is sleeping and I can recruit someone else to hold her while I work. Nevertheless, I appreciate these little chunks and know that each little bit of progress made adds up over time.

River’s adjustment continues to be difficult. It’s still a challenge to spend time with him, I’m sure he feels neglected, and his behavior reflects it. I’ve twice taken him on walks around the block with me. Even a mere 30 minutes together, just the two of us, was very rewarding. I need to be able to find more chunks of time that I can devote to him.

One of those 'holy crap' days

In the just over a week that I’ve been a parent of two, I’ve alternated between thinking this isn’t so bad, that babies aren’t as much work as I thought, and feeling strangely happy and motivated to spend the couple spare minutes I have in a day on household tasks.

The other days are like today, in which I think, holy shit, how do I manage this. Today was the first day I started to feel a bit bummed, as though this is overwhelming. Even looking at email stresses me out because I can’t imagine how I’ll find time to respond to all the messages I should answer.

First River gets sent home from preschool with pink eye, just as he has recovered from a fever. We go from him never being sick at all to suddenly going from one malady to another.

Then we go to the doctor, the whole family, and Willow’s poop explodes through her diaper for the first time, staining her sleepsack and her Bundle Me. I felt like I was a better mom this time around, as I actually brought a spare diaper and some wipes (I often didn’t with River). But as soon as I placed the spare diaper under her bum, she peed. I didn’t have another spare. Nor did I have an extra outfit. We had to go back outside with her dressed only in a t-shirt and plopped into the Bundle Me.

We’re still dealing with the thrush and now the doctor says I should look into having her frenulum cut, as it may be short and this could be causing some of the breastfeeding pain, and perhaps could be an issue with speech later. So I had to make an appointment with a pediatric throat specialist.

The best part of my day was getting the medicines at the pharmacy because I got to walk home, spending a good 20 minutes alone, outside, in the sunshine.

From that point on, Willow has been on my boob for a solid five hours. It’s already like a knife going through me when she attaches, especially on the left side. Even better when I get to spend five hours with her going from one side to the next and back again. We had a sitter around all afternoon, but I couldn’t give her to the sitter and take a break because every time I did, she’d start rooting again.

At the same time, River was freaking out about the drops I had to put in his eyes and nose, and begging for mom to read him a nap-time story, give him his medicine, pay him some darn attention. With the exception of a single storytime and a 30-minute walk in the snow yesterday, I have spent no time with him in the last week. It’s painful to him and to me and is just one more thing stressing me out.

I was getting exhausted and frustrated and felt glued to the chair. My back is killing me from constantly bending over to breastfeed. Finally, I figured out that she couldn’t possibly be eating for five hours straight and that she was using me as a pacifier. I pulled out the pacifier we got from the hospital and voila, she sucked calmly. Why didn’t I think of that earlier?

I’m crossing my fingers that since she spent the whole day awake and sucking, that will result in some good sleep for both of us tonight. I need it. I can’t fathom how I’m going to finish my exam, or do anything else of substance, at this rate.

This too shall pass, I remind myself, and she will only be my 7.5 pound baby doll now. I am trying to treasure it.

OK, it's getting hard now

Mom is dealing with:
-Lower parts that are still sore and swollen and results in her walking like an old lady
-Anti-fungal medications for thrush
-Breasts that are functioning, but sensitive due to overuse, milk flow and possible thrush
-An underarm abscess
-Lack of sleep

Then River wakes up with a 104 degree fever for the past two mornings – the first time he has ever been truly sick.

After virtually not seeing the pediatrician for about a year, we are probably their most frequent patients this week.

We are utilizing divide and conquer, with Mark taking charge of River and me in full charge of the baby. We were trying to keep the baby away from River, and now I have to keep her away from Mark as well.

It is horrible to watch River with this fever. I can’t imagine the effect of a one-week old getting it. So I spend most of my time in the bedroom, breastfeeding, drinking liquids, doing a little reading, sleeping when I can. It is so painful to hear my child sick for the first time and to not be there for him. Last night he screamed out “No more! No more!” as Mark and his mom applied cold cloths to him to reduce his fever. I cried at not being there to hold and to comfort him. Talk about abandonment. Not only is mom less available with the arrival of the new baby, but now she’s virtually disappeared, and just as he’s going through an experience where he really needs love and comfort.

The in-laws have been lifesavers and Mark’s mom was a soothing presence to him. They left this morning, so we are now on our own.

The good thing is that the baby is still easy. She doesn’t cry without cause. Silly as it sounds, I’m trying to acclimate her to sleep at night by using a tight swaddle only at night and letting her move freely the rest of the time. She slept from somewhere around 1 a.m. until I woke up from River’s screaming and woke her around 4:30. Then she slept again from 5:15 until after 8 a.m. I felt terrible going back to sleep while everyone else in the house was up helping River, but I knew I couldn’t go near him and figured I was of better use rested. Those two chunks of three-hours of sleep really made a difference. I’m crossing my fingers that she continues not having prolonged periods of wakefulness at night. It makes the whole newborn stage so much more manageable.

And I’m still enjoying watching her and being with her. Looking at the variety of facial expressions she can make can keep me occupied for hours. I marvel at the shape of her body and how she swims in her 0-9 month My First Christmas sleepsack. She has little smiles, which I know are probably just gas, but heartwarming nonetheless. And I feel like she is recognizing my touch and voice, which is comforting.

The one challenge is that, like River, Willow** wants to be in someone’s arms at all times. That makes it hard to leave both the kids with anyone. But I’m hoping when River gets better, I can leave Willow with someone and take River with me on my daily stroll around the block, getting in some one-on-one time with him.

**I wish I could share her name, because I really love it. But I change everyone's identity on my blog to protect their privacy. So I'll call her Willow here.

Newborn day 4

I’m feeling very lucky in many ways.

1. Having family here to support us has been so very helpful. They have been able to provide River with fun and individualized attention at a time at which he would otherwise likely feel ignored. They have also been helping with housework, errands, and food, which reduces the burden on me to be able to focus on the baby. The first time around, that seemed pretty overwhelming. Now that seems fairly manageable.

2. It’s early and perhaps things will change, but so far, the indications are that we have hit the jackpot and got a second easy baby. The pediatrician commented that she is very calm, she sleeps most of the time, and so far, has not cried more than about 10 minutes or so per 24 hours. I’m able to get through the whole night without her crying more than a few minutes, which means that everyone in the house except me is able to get a good night’s sleep.

3. I’m enjoying the newborn period even more this time around. Last time I was anxious for interaction. This time, I better recognize how fleeting these days are. I know it won’t be long that my daughter will be only seven pounds, that her fingers are such tiny, precious little strands, that I can watch the beautiful expressions that fleet across her face as she sleeps. I trace the perfect curl of her earlobe, stroke her soft cheeks and marvel at how her thin little legs and tiny organs are able to function. I hold her against my shoulder to burp her and touch my cheek to hers. I try to save the moment forever.

Though overall, things are going well, there are definitely challenges with number two.

These include:

1. My new relationship with River. I’m glad the grandparents are here to allow us a little space to figure this out. He now appears gigantic to me, his hands and feet as though already fully formed. He makes up songs about caca (poop) and uses nonsense language, which no longer impresses me so much. But he also knows facts about squid, hippopatomuses and tyrannosaurus rexes. Hearing him discuss these things with his grandparents makes me marvel that he also came out of me as a tiny babe, not so very long ago.

Unfortunately, our first substantial interaction upon my returning home was disciplinary. He took his grandfather’s newspaper apart and scattered it across the floor. I gave him a time-out and asked him to apologize to his grandfather. He wouldn’t, so he received three subsequent time outs. The most we’ve ever done before is two in a row. Four was miserable. Even more miserable when he peed his pants during one. When I asked him to apologize to his grandfather, he looked at me with such defiance and contempt. It reminded me of how I looked at my mother during our battles of my teenage years. It was also such a contrast with the look of complete understanding we shared until just a few days ago.

I think he was overtired, because the fourth timeout turned into a long nap, with none of the usual preambles. Grandma helped with the baby so that I could be the one to get River up from his nap, to read him a story, and to spend some positive quality time with him.

He realizes things are going to be different and I understand this is rough on him. I also know things are going to be different and I find it stressful. As much as I want to be there for him, to go out and do fun things with him, as long as the baby is attached to my breast, I am limited. I know this will get better with time, but I am glad I took him on so many excursions in the final weeks of the pregnancy. I wish we’d had another week or so of mom and River time.

2. Breastfeeding has been more challenging this time around. Last time the challenge was a long delay (about a week) in the milk coming in, but it wasn’t painful at any time. This time it’s been painful from the beginning. I spoke with several lactation consultants at the hospital, who said her latch is fine and that her suck is like a vacuum extractor. When I look in the mirror, I see holes in my nipples, where scabs have formed and then come off. For the first several days, it was so painful that I panted with pain, as though back in labor again, every time she latched on.

It’s getting a bit better now – perhaps my nipples are toughening up. And my milk came in last night, which reassures me that I won’t repeat the low supply issues. But her tongue is white and I have an underlying fear that she has thrush and will transfer it to me, repeating the miserable process of infection and reinfection I went through with River. I got some Nystatin, which was not effective last time, and am crossing my fingers I’m wrong about this. This time, I’ll be quicker to head to the powerful antibiotics.

3. I seem to have an extra supply of adrenaline this time, or perhaps it’s the gift of her not being alert, except while feeding, during the night. I don’t think I’m getting a whole lot of sleep, and I don’t find I can sleep during the day. There are times at night when I feel exhausted. Too exhausted to read certainly. But I’m so grateful that I’m not dealing with a screaming or wakeful baby that I tell myself it’s not so bad.

4. I came home from the hospital full of rules. It’s great they do education there, at the time when people need it. But I’m just too tired, or too lazy, to implement some of them. Wake the baby every 2 to 3 hours to feed. When it’s 4 a.m. and she’s already been sleeping three hours, no I’m not waking her. Sorry. I worry that will have an adverse effect on my supply, but I’m just not willing to give up the sleep to do it. Nor I am willing to record and/or track feedings and/or wet diapers. It’s a small step, but anything extra at this point is cut. For the past two nights, I’ve taken on all the feedings and allowed Mark to sleep through the night, but that also means I haven’t changed her diaper during the night. I feel negligent, but I’m tired and just can’t bring myself to remove her from her swaddle and wake her when she is quiet and restful. Nor do I really want to get out of bed. Luckily, both nights, she had only a bit of pee each morning. Once she’s getting more milk and has more bowel movements, I imagine I won’t be able to slack off so much there.

5. I’m in better shape physically than last time around. I avoided an episiotomy. But I do have a second degree tear and several smaller lacerations. It still hurts. I took my first walk outside today, around the block, and felt like an old lady, barely moving one foot in front of the other when I normally stride at a rapid pace. The continued pain below, plus the pain in the boobs makes me feel like I’m in pretty poor shape.

6. The weight is not disappearing as fast this time around. Last time I seem to recall dropping about 25 pounds right after the birth. This time I’m only about 10 pounds lighter than I was the day before she was born. That’s almost 30 pounds above my starting weight. Granted, from two hours post-birth on, I’ve been eating like a fiend. I’m trying not to worry about it too much, figuring I need nourishment for breastfeeding. I’ll try to focus on slowly reincorporating physical activity into my routine and perhaps replacing my current midnight snacks of Christmas cookies with some healthier options. But for now, I’m trying to focus on getting sleep, taking in adequate fluids and nutrition, and generally doing whatever makes me feel good to get through this physically and mentally rough period.

our current favorite toy

I recently took River over to play at a friend’s house, where the dad engaged both River and his friend with this super awesome toy, the Battat take apart airplane.

I rarely buy new toys, but this was cool enough that I wanted to consider getting it for River. I asked the parents what it was called and where they got it.

“Don’t worry about it,” the dad whispered. “I’ve got two more in the basement and one will be appearing at River’s party.”

Though we had requested no gifts, they brought this 4x4 for River and I can’t complain as it is without a doubt his favorite toy. It comes with a cool battery-powered screwdriver that both removes screws or screws them back in, depending on the setting. While Mark initially had to help River, he’s now able to completely dismantle and reassemble this 4x4 by himself. I think it’s pretty empowering for him to be able to do that and the drilling is great for both hand-eye coordination and for figuring out how to put things together.

Still in our friends’ basement, and soon to be headed to another birthday boy, is this crane.

That’s going to be a happy kid.

our first posada

River and I attended our first posada and I think I’ve found a new holiday tradition. I hadn’t heard of the Mexican tradition of posadas until I saw this one advertised. But a Mexican woman I spoke to there told me it’s a major tradition where she comes from. It is meant to recreate the process of Mary and Joseph seeking lodging and it ends with a celebration. She said that where she comes from, a block of attached houses are all occupied by various relatives, so people will go door to door along their block, acting out the ritual with their family.

It was so much fun! Everyone was given a candle and we carried the lighted candles as we walked from one site to another, recreating the scene of Mary and Joseph looking for lodging. At each of the three sites, we sang and some people pre-planted at the sites sang back.

I told River we were looking for a place to sleep, which he didn’t seem to understand entirely. But he didn’t care much, as what just-turned-three-year-old wouldn’t be thrilled to be allowed to carry around a lighted candle? He loved watching the flame dance in the breeze and being allowed to share his flame with others whose candle blew out.

After the singing was a party with hot chocolate, sweet tamales and tres leches cake. Then came the best part, heading back outside to break two piñatas. River was thrilled to be able allowed the opportunity to swing at it, though his gentle touch didn’t so much as loosen a strand of crepe. But when some older kids broke the piñatas, he liked scavenging for candy.

There was only one other little girl there as young as he was, and the fact that he didn’t look Hispanic, but spoke fluent Spanish, attracted people’s attention. Everyone was very nice to him and several children offered him candy that they had collected from the piñata.

The other three-year-old, a Mexican child, was a friend of ours, who attended River’s birthday party last year. We hadn’t seen her or her family for almost a year and I had on my long to-do list to try to call her mother. I was wondering how they were doing.

It turns out they went through an immigration nightmare and had an order of deportation against them. They have been in the country nine years, both of the children were born here and they are kind, hard-working people. The ordeal began in June and it was just that day, the same day as the posada, that they went to court and the judge allowed them to stay until the spring of 2012. Hopefully that is enough time for them to get things in order.

The mom almost cried as she told me this. She said that November was the worst month of her life, that she had been depressed, and that the court order was like a weight physically lifted from her. I didn’t have the chance to ask what she was thinking of doing with the kids, but I imagine she considered leaving them here, and can’t imagine the pain she must have gone through to imagine being separated from them. It made me sad to know they had suffered so much over the past months.

I know the legal fees were a great hardship to a family that didn’t have a lot to start with. But I was grateful for the encouraging result, glad that the children could sing and clap and dance and chase the candy, not afraid that they or their parents would be put on a plane and sent to a place they had never seen before. I’m glad they will remain in our neighborhood and be River’s friends and classmates.

Third birthday dinner

I let River choose whatever he wanted to eat for his third birthday dinner. When I asked the question open-ended, he didn’t know. So I offered some suggestions of things he likes – pizza, spaghetti, sushi, chicken, beef. If anything, I was hoping to lead him towards macaroni and cheese, because that’s what I’ve been craving lately. But he went for sushi – the item I craved a lot in the first two trimesters, but am over now.

Here is my birthday boy with his birthday sushi dinner. Perhaps an unusual request for a three-year-old, but I think he’s wonderful.

Fire truck birthday cake

Evolution of a fire truck cake:











Lessons learned:

1. This recipe makes for a delicious cake, but it’s not ideal for molds. Though I greased the pan well, it’s so moist that a lot of it still stuck, only giving me the bare outlines of lines to follow. And a lot of little crumbs came off in the process of frosting it, making it tough to keep the white frosting white.

2. Make the cake the morning ahead and give it lots of time to cool (if you have room in your freezer to freeze the cake, that would be ideal, otherwise chill it in the fridge). I did the white frosting the night before the party and the rest the morning of. The good thing about this cake is that due to its moistness, it’s great a day later.

3. These directions are excellent. I followed them for making the frosting and doing the decorating. Even a non-artistic person like me can come out with something resembling a fire truck.

4. I invested in this cake carrier, which was a really handy way to both have a surface to frost it upon and have an easy way to cover and store it in the fridge. It also comes with a tray that holds either cupcakes or mini-cupcakes, so I’ll be using it in a few days to send River to preschool with birthday cupcakes.

5. Next time, I’d thin the frosting a little more than the recipe suggests. Perhaps it was too thick, or perhaps it was still too chilled from the fridge. But I had a very hard time working with the yellow, which was the first color I used. I was panting with exertion, my hand was cramped and I started to think I needed to call Mark and ask him to pick up a cake at the supermarket. Luckily, the other colors were much easier to work with. When the frosting flows quickly out of the tip, it makes all the difference.

First holiday tree

Was put up last weekend. Along with the first decorations. These are meaningful because they were decorations given to my mother, by her aunt, for her first holiday tree as a married woman. Though Mark wasn’t eager about a tree, he kindly put it up. River was thrilled to help with the decorations. He looks at the tree with magic and appreciation in his eyes, and that alone makes it worth it.

I feel like I’m turning into a boring, stereotypical adult, taking on the rituals of holiday cards, a tree, and a soon-to-occur cookie exchange. But the truth is that I like it. I like the soothing glow of the lights, the family history represented in the ornaments, the beauty it adds to the room. I’m glad number two will come back to a place that looks welcoming and that she’ll see photos of her early days that reflect the season when she was born.

I like that River takes pride in his home and his environment. He’ll make comments, entirely unprovoked, such as “Our house is so big and beautiful. There is so much room to play.” (It’s actually not very big, but it’s larger than the place he spent his first 18 months).

Or “I don’t like (insert name of neighboring street).”

“Really?” I ask. “Do you prefer (insert name of our street)?”

“Yes.”

It’s good to have a base, a shelter and a family, where we all feel safe and comfortable and warm. I appreciate that now.