February 1st, 11:20pm. 5 lbs. 13 ounces, 18 inches long.
White blond eyelashes and eyebrows and at present, a full head of dark hair. Long feet. Delicate features.
THE CUTEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE.
A little busy right now lying around watching her sleep to get into more detail or post photo albums, but to tide you over, her first post-birth round of hiccups, which was KILLING ME. She looked so surprised about it.
Hi! Sick of me yet? Sick of baby photos yet? I'm as suprised as you that I have the time to post all these, but Matilda is at present a Champion Daytime Sleeper.
I've read that babies born before their due dates tend to sleep until they're due and then they wake up. I'm hoping that's the case, because Matilda Emelia Rose over here loves her sleep. Not so much last night, but during the day, she really enjoys a good nap. Today, we all enjoyed a good nap. And don't get me wrong, I love that she likes to sleep in, but she needs to EAT, people. She's so small, she needs premie diapers and we won't even talk about the clothing situation and how big everything is on her.
*not talking about that* According to my OB/GYN's calculations, I was due to give birth on February 10th, which means Matilda will wake up on Thursday. Can't wait for Thursday!
I’m typing this one-handed after a hair-raising night (just ask the cat) of not eating and screaming and wiggling between us and the facial expressions Matilda travels through when she’s sleeping. (On me, as she is at present.)
I remain calm, so far, but our little rotisserie chicken really needs to start packing on the pounds. Here: a dirty secret. We fed her some formula this morning out of a Nyquill cup in an effort to rouse her enough to latch on. CALL THE LACTATION POLICE. But really, get off me as it worked.
A Few Things I’ve Discovered About Myself In The Last 79 Hours:
I can go without brushing my teeth a lot longer than I thought.
All that time I spent not sleeping was fabulous practice as it turns out, I’m fairing a lot better than Niclas, who is having, shall we say, some intestinal issues with the lack of REM and is in fact, right now, sleeping on a pillow that is propped up on my legs. Which means I am bed to two humans at the moment.
I have no problem spending the day, regardless of where I’m spending it, not only with a boob out, but my shirt just shoved under my neck.
A Few Things I’ve Discovered About Matilda In The Last 79 Hours:
She does this full body reflex that slays me, especially when she does it while attached to my boob and curls up around my torso.
She’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
Typing her name is enough to make me burst into tears.
She’s already losing her hair.
She’s got peach fuzz on her ears and needed a manicure when she was born.
She smells wonderful, which is sort of like baking bread but different and 100% better.
SHE IS A PILL AT NIGHT AND DOES NOT WANT TO EAT AND IT IS FREAKING ME OUT.
A Few Things I’ve Discovered About Being a Parent In The Last 79 Hours:
Our house will never be clean again.
Niclas and I have reached a new level of intimacy and that level involves a breastfeeding baby, the toilet, a squirt bottle and a maxi pad.
I'm fairly calm so far, but the nighttime not eating is bone-chilling.
We'll never stop taking pictures of her.
I was going to say parenthood has been cake so far, but then, it's taken me all day to post anything. I've got big plans to post the play-by-play and all, but so far, I have not had the time to write the play-by-play. While we're waiting for that, I'll mention that Matilda has jaundice, yes, and it's not a problem. I knew jaundice was not a problem, but the nurses kept telling me not to worry, so I guess most people don't know not to freak. I'd also like to point out that I was wrong on her measurements. She was 18.5 inches long, not 18. Hoo, am I a bad mother already? Also, her APGAR score, which I didn't even get around to inquiring about until today at the pediatrician, was 9/9. Which means she came out with bells on, even if the cord was wrapped around her neck.
Today is her 5th day and we decided to mark the occasion by taking her for her first walk. It's February, but the weather has been gorgeous. We packed her into the sling and trotted up the street to the golf course, where she sort of freaked (right after these photos were taken) and was not having any tit in nature, thanksverymuch.
She goes from zero to hysterical in 2 seconds flat and woe is the woman who does not present the nipple in that one second window. If that window passes, the hysteria begins. It doesn't usually last too long, plus she turns her already tiny mouth into a perfect "O" and sort of ohh ohhh ohhh's out the final indignity, and that face IS OFF THE CHARTS OF CUTE. Plus she's only 5 days old, so cut the kid some slack.
We've been having her sleep in a laundry basket though, so I'm not sure you should be cutting us any slack.
Her grandfather gets the couch.
Where Matilda has been, off and on but mostly on, since 1am:
Onsie today says:
I Am a Musical Robot
Food I've Spilled On The Baby:
Guacamole
Apple
Seltzer Water
And it's been less than a week so kittens know this list will only get better.
Hours She's Been Eating Tonight:
Almost four. Nearly straight since 1am.
What The Onsie She Wore To The Pediatrician Yesterday Said:
This Does Not Suck.
Where The Pediatrician Looked The Entire Time We Were There, Which Was How Much Of The Time Matilda Was Eating:
Anywhere but at me.
Nicknames She Has Already Acquired:
Sweetpea
Kitty
Cheesecake
Lamb Chowder
Fist of Fury
Squeeze Box
One-sock
Snuttgurka
I don't know how people raised kids before the internet came along and gave us something to bide the time at 2am when the baby wants to eat and you want to sleep. Just sitting in a chair, usually one that ROCKS to help put the baby to sleep but hello, that motion puts everyone to sleep, in a dark room with a small hot body attached to you is no way to try and stay awake.
Last night was not a great one. I have no problem, yet, with being up at all hours to feed Matilda. When she's nursing, she's so sweet and peaceful. The night before last, when the nursing started at 1am and pretty much lasted all morning, I took her downstairs and set up shop on the couch with the laptop. Was easy. But last night. Last night, I fed her and left her with Niclas while I tried to get a head-start on some sleep. He brought her upstairs an hour later and the SCREAMING WAILING THRASHING AROUND began. She was acting like the Hungry Man's All Day Breakfast would not tide her over till brunch. SHE WAS STARVING. But would not take my boob HYSTERICAL THRASHING FIST AND FEET OF FURY. Anything I did to calm her was temporary. Once she was quiet, she'd start rooting again and then would refuse to eat and OMG WHAT IS GOING ON. I was wracking my brain. We had salad for dinner! It had onions in it which I tried to pick out but I can taste them I ATE RAW ONIONS AND SHE HATES THEM. So I had Niclas whip up some formula because I'd rather have her full then starving, even if formula does smell disgusting and ruins her Fresh Baby Scent.
She put up with a bit from an eye dropper, but didn't seem that interested so back to the boob except of course SHE WOULD NOT TAKE IT for more than a few minutes at a time HYSTERICAL OVER HERE. During one lull in the hysteria, Niclas took her temperature and changed her diaper, all with her on me. No fever, now clean diaper and STILL HYSTERICAL.
The learning curve for new parents is about as steep as it is for newborns. The first night home with her was embarrassing. We were so inept I can't even tell you about it. Last night, I was trying to fix a problem when it turns out there might not have been a problem to fix and maybe I just need to get some earplugs so she doesn't burst my eardrums when she is HYSTERICAL in my arms with the fist and feet of fury.
She'll be a week old tonight, and I was not aware that that was old enough for The Crank to set in. THE INTERNET LIED TO ME. Because I thought we had a few weeks before she established her Hysterical Time, last night threw me. Obviously, I prefer it when she's calm:
But if I did that all day, I'd probably have to scream it out once in a while too.
P.S. Photos of her for the month of February can be found here.
P. P. S. I've been calling her Fist of Fury? And before she was born, I was calling her Mrs. Bruce Lee? And I did not even realize that Fist of Fury IS A BRUCE LEE MOVIE. OMG WE'VE BRED THE REINCARNATION OF BRUCE LEE.
*excited*
She snorts like a pig when getting comfortable and nods her head like a rabbit when she's eating. She curls up like a pill bug when she's naked and laid on her back. When she poops, she kicks her legs out like a horse. She doesn't sound like a rooster per se, but she can wake up the neighborhood.
Phone call to the Birth Center 5 days post-partum:
"Hi, I was in there on Tuesday to give birth? And I was wondering if there was any way the cathater from the IV could still be in my hand."
"Oh! I don't think so. The device is all one piece. But I guess anything is possible."
"Because see, it's mighty sore right past the insertion site."
"That's normal enough. It's a fairly invasive procedure."
...
"Getting an IV in my hand was the least invasive thing that happened to me on Tuesday."
"Yes, I'd say you might be right about that."
Right, considering these had to come out the other end:
February 1, 2005:
2:45am: Wide awake. *tap tap tap* Lying in bed *sigh* another night of not sleeping. I am weary of the not sleeping.
3am: Up to pee.
3:05am: Back to bed. *tap tap tap*
3:55am: Up to pee.
4am: Back to bed....wait. What? I just went to the bathroom. Can't have to pee again WHY AM I WETTING MYSELF. OMG I'M INCONTINENT. *pause* No. Wait. NO WAY.
4:02am: Back to bathroom with mirror.
4:03am: OMG NOT INCONTINENT. (Note: was a trickle and not a deluge and not in bed, not even on the floor.)
4:05am: "Niclas? Wake up. My water broke. It broke! WATER BROKE!"
*blank stare*
Niclas: "Gna?"
Me: "Gna. Right."
4:10am: Manage to figure out how to work my cell phone to call OB's office:
"Hi, this is Duane."
"Hi. My water broke."
"Who's your attending?"
"Dr. Weaver."
"And why are you calling?"
"Well Duane, because my water broke."
"And how far along are you?"
"Almost 39 weeks."
"And your attending?"
"You hate your job, don't you, Duane? DR. WEAVER."
*tap tap tap*
4:15am: Phone rings. "Water broke! I wasn't sure I mean I thought I had just gone incontinent but I'm not incontinent! Also, not in labor! ...Yet!"
4:16 - 6:30am: Lather, rinse. No really, took a shower and experienced my first real, not practice, contraction. Had breakfast, a few more contractions, one a Whopper With Cheese, and headed off to the hospital with three bags, one yoga ball, two books, a Wired magazine, one camera, two lenses and one giant flash.
6:31 - 9am: Random contractions, three walks around the L&D floor, one blue Italian ice, visit from Dr. Weaver and her 4 year-old daughter. "Hi Grace!" *hides behind mother's legs* Contemplate turning on the TV, bored, come on come on, bounce on yoga ball to speed things up. Niclas gets some food. Omelette, egg and cheese sandwich, pear, Diet Pepsi.
9:01 - 9:29am: Visit from Dr. Weaver. 4 cm. dilated, 100% effaced and once she's done with me, probably more like 5 cm. dilated. She tells me the 2 to 4 cm. dilating is the worse. I don't believe her. She also tells me we'll be done by dinner time. Want to believe her. Have to lie in bed long enough for the check, a fetal monitoring and the insertion of the Lego IV drip.
9:30 - 9:59am: One more walk around the L&D floor, IV on squeaky useless pole that Niclas tries to dismantle but the ceiling height won't let him.
10 - 2:29pm: THINGS SPEED UP. Contractions go from random to two and three minutes apart. Some are doubles which certainly last three times as long. Discover that the yoga ball is my friend. Want to marry yoga ball. Will do anything to avoid having to lie in the bed.
2:30 - 2:59pm: Niclas gets a roast beef sandwich and a bowl of strawberry ice cream which he eats from the side of the bed while I heave out contractions on the yoga ball from the foot of the bed. No photo of that meal are you kidding CONTRACTIONS ARE NOT MESSING AROUND.
3 - 3:09pm: The contractions start in at a minute apart and WHERE IS THE MAN WITH THE EPIDURAL. Shaking, not calm, can't get it together between contractions. Anesthesiologist makes Niclas wait outside and has me sign the consent form after the needle is in place. Smart.
3:10 - 3:50pm: Take a nap.
3:51 - 6:29pm: Contractions I can't feel. *yawn* Bored.
6:30 - 6:44pm: Dr. Weaver comes in to check my progress. 8cm. Guess we won't be making the Early Bird Special for dinner. Dr. Weaver says it's time to pull out the pit drip. I am hooked up.
6:45 - 7:44pm: Contractions. I can feel the pressure but not the pain. They feel like the Braxton-Hicks contractions all over again.
7:45 - 8pm: Feeling sort of sick. Tell nurse I'm not going to, but I feel like I could vomit. Know what this means.
8:01 - 9pm: Start pushing. Niclas has to hold my right leg as it feels like a pork loin to me. So much for him staying above my waist. Nurse has the other leg. Dr. Weaver arrives to check things between contractions and INSERTS A CATHETER. The indignity of it all and Niclas is watching over her shoulder "So that's where that is!" I welcome him to the one part of my anatomy he was not previously acquainted with. Also, tell someone to close the armoire doors on the TV at the foot of the bed my god the surface IT'S REFLECTIVE. Conversations between contractions with nurse, such as:
"Do a lot of women come in here with Birth Plans?"
"Some, sure. They all end up having c-sections."
9:01 - 10:45: Pushing. Dr. Weaver is in and out to check progress. When not with us, she's down the hall with her kids. Have to snap fingers to get attention of Niclas and nurse to hold my legs. *snap snap* "Contraction coming." "I don't see it on the monitor," Niclas says. "BUT I CAN FEEL IT HOLD MY LEGS." Nurse is all "Push! Push harder! Come on Michelle, you can do it!" Niclas counts to ten on each push. "One, two, three, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." And I'm thinking, YOU'RE BOTH SO BUSTED.
10:46pm: Dr. Weaver lays down the law. I've got 14 minutes to get this kid out or she's going to use other measures. (Other measures: vacuum or c-section NO PLEASE NO I'll push the Chrysler Building out of my vagina to avoid a c-section.)
10:47 - - 11:10pm: *PUSHING* Dr. Weaver leaves the room and for the first time since I met her back in June, I don't want to see her again.
11:11 - 11:20pm: *SWEARWORD* She is back and all business. She should consider coaching weight lifters. "Push. HARDER." Calls in the troops and all of a sudden there are 5 other people in the room. "Do you think we need one more?" "I think we need one more." One more nurse comes in and grabs the suction end of the vacuum while Dr. Weaver attaches the cup to the top of the baby's head. *PUSHING* Legs over head, hollywood light on private parts, Pediatrician in the corner with bed-head. I can feel her head IT IS RIGHT THERE and then I hear "I need to cut" and then, THEN, *SNIP SNIP* and pop, the head is out, then the body, 11:20pm.
11:21 - 11:30pm: Nose and mouth get suctioned and we hear the first sounds from the Fist of Fury as she's whisked across the room to the Dr. with bed-head. Niclas follows and tells her our story in Swedish over the Pediatrician's shoulder.
11:31 - 11:50pm: Dr. Weaver pulls out the placenta like she's playing tug-o-war and shows it to me -- the sac membrane feels thin and sturdy. Then she sews me up. The sewing takes forever. "You're going to have to tell me later how bad things are down there." "Oh, it's not that bad, I'm a perfectionist." Want to believe her.
11:51: Fist of Fury is in my arms, Dr. Weaver is out the door. Bright lights are shut down, crew departs. "It's a wrap!"
Next Installment: I try to walk on Dead Legs.
Quick! Have two hands free! Think fast! Write something!
Let's see.
Matilda is PACKING ON THE OUNCES. We've been watching her get chubbier by the day. Double chins appearing! Chipmunk cheeks! Fat fingers! Hardcore feeding sessions. Hours at a stretch. I woke up this morning worried that she had DRAINED MY BOOBS DRY.
She's also worked out the plumbing and enjoys putting it to use when we take off her diaper. Last night, she almost POOPED ON MY FACE. I was changing her on the couch from my seat on the floor and was making sure she was squeeky clean when the legs locked and projectile poop, HEADED RIGHT TOWARDS ME. She missed, but only because she had just filled her diaper and had used up the high pressure squirts previous. Then she peed all over the place and I've now had to change her outfit three times on account of naked peeing. It won't be funny real soon, I'm sure, but the memory of her first few nights and not eating is still fresh in my mind. I'll take the overzealous plumbing over the scary BABY IS DEHYDRATED crystals in her diaper anyday.
What else. Well, I gained 35 pounds carrying her, and as of this morning, I still have 15 I need to drop. Not quite sure how I gained so much, seeing as less than 6 pounds of it was her. No, wait. I know. CHOCOLATE CAKE. Which I am delirously happy to report I don't Need anymore to make it through the day. I seem to have my normal appetite back, which means that chocolate cake, while never a Bad thing, is no longer a staple. *wipes brow* Seriously people, if my postpartum eating remained the same as the pregnancy eating, I'd be well on my way to Obesity.
One more thing: Matilda recieved her first piece of mail today. The first piece addressed to her, I should say. Packages have been landing on our doorstep at a rapid clip ever since we brough her home (thank you notes coming, bear with me), but thus far, while for her, they were addressed to us. Tonight, one arrived addressed to her. And I burst into tears.
Don't have much in the way of a coherent thought today, so instead, some photos.
How we've been working things thus far:
My HAM HOCKS and the nap we squeezed in yesterday:
There's a world out there at the bottom of these steps:
(Fourth visit to the Pediatrician this morning, so I know about there being a world out there. Matilda is gaining about an ounce a day, which might explain why I'm drinking water like it's going out of style and NOT SLEEPING AT ALL OVER HERE. Which is actually mostly ok, but this morning I'm a little tender and I might just try her trick of screaming with the fist of fury.)
11 days postpartum. I keep stepping on the scale expecting the 15 pounds of chocolate cake to disappear. No such luck. Looks like they are real and not PHANTOM POUNDS like I was hoping. I've been wearing my first trimester pants and Niclas' button down shirts and I feel better than I look, so this morning, I pulled out all my pre-pregnancy pants and TRIED THEM ON. Well, I tried to try them on, but nothing was fitting over the thighs. Hint #2 that the pounds are real. *SWEARWORD*
Good: I've managed to shave my legs and take a shower every day so far. I gave myself a pedicure -- my feet! I can reach them! My boobs are like Olympic athletes and are showing no signs of wear with the near constant sucking. My stomach was a built-in Boppy Pillow the first week postpartum, so I didn't need the real Boppy Pillow.
Bad: Night Sweats due to hormones and needing to change my clothes before the 3am feeding. Having to wear a pad and feeling like I'm going to get diaper rash before Matilda. The 15 pounds of chocolate cake, 'natch. The built-in Boppy Pillow my stomach was the first week postpartum, but also the fact that it's gone now and I need to start using the real Boppy Pillow. Also, unrelated, but I might be bleeding out from what appears to be a bug bite on my neck.
Fascinating: When Matilda pulls herself off my boob and has MILK ALL OVER HER FACE. I made that? Honestly, the fact that my boobs are making milk that is feeding her and filling in her cheeks is almost weirder than the fact that she grew inside me for 9 months and then was heaved out of my vagina. *blank stare*
Handy: Said boobs for telling me if I got any sleep or not. Yesterday, I woke up with deflated air-bags flapping around on my chest. Verdict: Matilda ate well, I didn't sleep. This morning, I woke up with alarms going off on my boobs *Caution Overflow Imminent* Verdict: We both slept well, she wanted to eat from 10 to 12, once we all got up.
It's Saturday, see. We slept in:
Add to Bad list: The fact that Niclas and I both look like bloated pink monsters with sandpaper skin and manhole pores that could swallow the baby whole.
There are some foods you're supposed to wait a few years before introducing into a baby's diet. One of those foods is peanuts. Another one is strawberries. We have dropped both of these ON THE BABY'S FACE in the last week.
That's it, pretty much. I'm just going to let that swing in the breeze and follow it up with some bath shots:
(Please Note: It took me 7 hours to get this post up.)
Three Days Ago: Took Matilda to Babies R Us to pick up a few odds and ends and had to block two old ladies from SHOVING THEIR HANDS INTO THE CAR SEAT all *touchy touchy* "IT'S A BABY!"
Two Days Ago: Put Matilda in her car seat, put the cat seat in the stroller frame, and took a walk around the block:
Yesterday: Waved baby in front of Niclas and said Happy Valentine's Day. "Look what I got you!"
Last Night: Matilda's friends in the computer sent her awesome, appropriate gifts:
The Phantom Tollbooth is one of my Top 10 Favorite Books of All Time and Niclas loves the heavy metal. Also, handmade baby blanket! *SCORE*
This Morning: Managed to remain in bed till almost 6am by feeding Matilda while lying down.
At Present: Keeping an eye out for Baby's First Cold as my mother, who was here yesterday, turned up with a sore throat this morning.
Matilda is two weeks old today, and she's well into the swing of things. She naps and snacks all day and all night and has two Marathon Feeding Sessions, one when I want to eat breakfast and the other when I want to eat dinner. I'd rather have her eating when I'm eating then eating when I'm trying to sleep, though, so it's all working out.
Also, I'm two weeks into the recovery end of things, and it's strange. I'm SO GLAD I'm not pregnant anymore. Strange because I didn't really mind being pregnant while it was happening. I was enjoying the science experiment of it and was only truly uncomfortable the last two days. But now that I'm not pregnant? I never want to be again, and it's not even because my recovery has been hard or the labor was brutal, because neither has been the case.
My labor was longer than I expected, but it really, honestly, was not that bad. In the weeks leading up to it, Niclas would ask me if I was getting nervous about it. I wasn't. I was all, Eh. It'll be fine. And if it's not, I'll just get the epidural. Which is exactly how it went down. Granted, I was a mess the following day, but after that, I was more or less fine. Stopped taking the Midol because I just kept forgetting. By the time we brought Matilda home, I was feeling great. Still am, though I will admit to being a bit tired and certainly out of shape as a walk around the block winds me ever so slightly. But basically, I can't wait for the all clear so I can start going to the gym. Plus, I have HIP BONES again!
The baby won't stop eating. WON'T. STOP. EATING. She's a marathon runner and not a sprinter, that's for sure. But OMG she won't stop eating. And eating. AND EATING. My boobs are finally sore and I want some time alone. Not as in, in a room by myself, just sans baby strapped across my chest. It's almost 10pm and I've been trying to get her to sleep since 6:30. When she was eating. And she keeps eating. She eats LIKE A PIG and then pops herself off, milk all over her face, and falls asleep. BUT THEN SHE WAKES UP AGAIN AND WANTS TO EAT. And I'm like, woman, WHERE ARE YOU PUTTING IT.
*SWEARWORD* I need to go feed the baby.
I know this stage is not going to last. I know that if not by 6 weeks, then definitely by 2 years, I'm going to be wishing for this stage all over again. But 2 weeks and 3 days into Life With Matilda, when I'm not incredibly tired, I'M BORED. All she's been doing since Tuesday is eat and eat and EAT and then fill some diapers and every once in awhile, she naps? But basically, she eats. Off of me. I'm getting bed sores from sitting on the couch. I've started Tivoing A Baby Story and then watching A Baby Story. Points to TLC for consistently tossing in gay couples on their shows, but demerits to so many of the couples on this show for scheduling c-sections for the hell of it. Also, demerits to me for watching this crap. Lawd knows it's not giving me much to write about. BECAUSE I'M BORED.
No one told me about the boredom and the idle time with one arm free. I knew about the sleep deprivation and the laundry, but these first few weeks are pretty boring and NO ONE WARNED ME. It's a good thing we have Tivo and On Demand so I can watch The L Word -- 3 hours straight so far -- when I run out of A Baby Story.
Also, no one told me that THE BOREDOM would sap my brain and make me so stupid. I have nothing to say. Not that there is nothing to say, I mean, Matilda lost her umbilical cord stump and OMG HER BELLYBUTTON IS SO CUTE. When she's not nursing like gangbusters, she's wiggling around and stretching. She sticks her tongue out all the time and wrinkles her forehead and she's got a widow's peak and WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM? I'm sure she weighs more today than she did yesterday and yesterday I tried to measure because I was sure she was longer. Unfortunately, she was not willing to cooperate because she hates being naked and curls up like a pill bug. Also, she's either losing her hair or her hair is turning lighter at the roots.
Mostly, I see her profile when she's chugging milk out of my breasts like a frat boy with his lips wrapped around the keg spigot. (And I'm getting good at living with one hand.)
Now I'd like to move onto the next stage, which hopefully involves some scheduled nap times and actual feeding times as apposed to the current state of 24 Hour All You Can Eat Buffet.
How to start the weekend:
Sleep in till 9:30 because the baby lets you. Wake up feeling rested because as it turns out, feeding the baby at night is easiest when you're both lying down. Get on the scale to find you're down 2.5 pounds. Put the baby in the shower with Niclas and watch her either not hate it or be too shocked to complain. Finally get a shot of her with milk all over her face:
Have friends come visit for lunch. Adults! In person! And not on TV!
My boobs are failures. Underachievers. Matilda has been chewing on them for a week now. No, I mean a week, STRAIGHT. As soon as she pops herself off, she wants to get right back on and let me tell you something. Nursing 23 hours a day IS NOT A GOOD TIME. Today, finally, we did three things. 1) Niclas went out and got me some fenugreek pills to up my milk production. 2) We gave Matilda a bottle. Of formula. And SHUT UP I know that was the right thing to do because she sucked it down like I'd like to suck down a martini. The poor thing was STARVING and my boobs were not filling her up. Obviously. (However, being full of formula has in no way curbed her desire to nurse off of me. Hello, human pacifier.) 3) I tried to pump. And proved my theory right (boobs are empty) as the pumping got me nothing, save a dribble. And after about 3 minutes, the dribble stopped. I am RUNNING ON EMPTY. Also, really hoping these pills pump me up, because Matilda is three weeks old tomorrow and I'm not prepared to stop breastfeeding her at such an early age.
I feel like such a failure. I was sure breastfeeding was going to be a snap. It never occurred to me that I'd hit a snag or have a baby that would quite literally suck me dry. Or that I'd want to give her a bottle because I was thisclose to bursting into tears. It's not like I never had milk, it's just that her appetite picked up way before my boobs could keep up. So now I'm playing catch-up to a 3-week-old newborn that weighs anywhere from 6 to 7 pounds, according to our highly unscientific bathroom scale weigh-ins.
I'm also totally unfunny and dead in the eyes. Three weeks is apparently the time-frame for me to hit the sleep deprivation wall. Matilda was crying earlier. I picked her up and brought her face up to mine and mimiced her cry back at her. It quieted her right down because she's dead in the eyes as well. She's as sleep deprived as I am, what with the all day all night eating.
Matilda has some serious bed-head today. As Niclas pointed out, it only makes sense as she spends so much time lying around. She also feels heavier in my arms, but seeing as how she's always in my arms, maybe that's just because my arms are getting tired.
Her eyelashes are longer today than they were yesterday, and yesterday they were longer than they were the day before. She's already discovered her hands and enjoys sucking on them. Twice I've caught her sucking on her thumb. She's very advanced for her age.
Everyday, she spends more time being alert. She loves to stretch rattle and roll. She grunts like a frat boy and punches the air. Also, makes her mouth a perfect O for any number of reasons. Niclas and I always respond by mimicing her expression. It's impossible not to.
Her Moro Reflexes are hilarious. Hands up and out! Eyes wide! It's like she's saying "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?"
We started discussing her poop at length before we even left the hospital with her. Last night, after Niclas changed her diaper while I took a minute to brush my teeth, he asked me if I wanted to see it before he threw it away. I did, actually. Nugget of truth: Everyone says newborn poop does not smell. This is not technically true. It does smell, it's just not that bad. But if she's got a dirty diaper, you can bet I can tell without having to take it off.
On Sunday, with the help of my mother, I made a double batch of skor bar candy and Niclas, Matilda and I walked it over to the hospital to deliver it to the nurses who helped deliver Matilda. Unfortunatly, the woman behind the glass at the L&D ward in the pink scrubs and black eye make-up was not someone we met while there. She did not seem to think Niclas' joke was funny, ("We'd like to return this one?") and was visibly unsettled by the BAG OF CANDY I handed to her. Here's hoping it, along with the note explaining who it was from, made it to the staff and not the dumpster.
skor bar
1 cup sugar
1 cup butter
3 tbsp. water
handful of chopped almonds
chocolate chips
powered almonds for topping
Combine sugar, butter, water and chopped almonds in a heavy pot. Insert candy thermometer into mixture (making sure it doesn’t touch bottom of pot). Stir constantly with a wooden spoon over medium heat until it reaches 300 degrees (About 20 minutes). Pour out onto cookie sheet and spread thin with wooden spoon. Drop chocolate chips over candy and spread out as they melt. Sprinkle top with almond dust.
You know what's funny? A three and a half week old baby FREAKING STRAIGHT THE FUCK OUT. Last night, after dinner with Shannon (Hi, Shannon! Thanks for the socks!) and a couple of hours of nursing/being a human pacifier, we all retired to the bedroom. (Aside: Remind me to tell you about our continuing adventures in pumping.) Matilda was fine with bedtime for 45 minutes maybe, but then she realized that since we all went to bed at the same time, she had been denied her nightly Freak Out with Niclas in the living room while I tried to get in a nap before bedtime. This realization caused her to start The Freaking and OMG, SO FUNNY. She screams and screams and kicks her legs and thrashes the fists and did I mention the piercing, eardrum-shattering screams? She screams and her tiny head turns bright red and the mouth is wailing and she arches her back all the better to SCREAM LOUDER and screams and screams and then winds down to look around all calm with the O face. Then she winds back up and Lather. Rinse. Repeat. until she falls asleep with her fists in the air.
I've decided that the best way to deal with these Le Freaks is to wrap her up in a blanket and hold her and let her just work it out on her own. (This post and the comments are quite timely, as at least a few of the responses mention not rocking/rubbing backs.) The way I figure it, she's freaking out because her brain is the size of a clementine and after a full day of growing, having to listen to CSI: New York just put her over the edge and she's got too much to contend with. So rocking or bouncing or SHHHHH-ing her are only going to add to her feelings of being overwhelmed.
So there we sat last night, her in my arms belting it out. And I was having a hard time not laughing at her because The Fury was really something else coming from something so small and young. It's not like she knows who the President is. What's she so upset about? But every time I let out a laugh, she'd tense up and scream louder. So I had to hold it in and just watch her mini face contort with beet-red rage. When she was finally done and passed out with her fists in the air, she slept for four and a half hours. Le Baby Freak! It's good for something.
Ok, the pumping? Is going much better. I tried it again yesterday morning (after remembering that the milk supply is lowest at night, which would explain why Matilda nurses from 7 to 10pm, and also why my first attempt to pump, after dinner, got me exactly nothing) and got an ounce. Was pleased with that, for a second attempt and not much time spent. Was also pleased that Niclas was able to feed it to her while I cooked dinner. I have not been able to cook dinner since she was born, because dinner-time is smack in the middle of her Nightly Feeding Frenzy. So that was lovely, and the expression on her face was *surprised* with all that milk landing in her mouth at such a rapid rate.
Please Note: Nursing does not hurt. Pumping is uncomfortable, more so if you watch your nipple getting sucked down the neck of the pump. Clogged Milk Ducts TOTALLY KILL. Nursing makes them go away faster, but those first few pulls on the clogged breast are almost as bad as contractions. *OW*
Niclas vacuumed the house yesterday with Matilda sleeping in a sling around his neck. Was pretty cute.
Today we took her to the mall because we needed a new L key on the laptop. Was also pretty cute.
No photo, but when we got back home today, I made banana bread with Matilda sleeping in the sling around my neck. Niclas wanted to know why I wasn't making something he'd like to eat as well, but I was all, we've got all these bananas that need to be used? So I'm making banana bread.
And yes, Matilda is wearing the same outfit in both of those photos, taken on two separate days.
Niclas is getting good at slinging the baby around the place.
Baby is squishing your head.
Also getting used to sucking on fingers
and looking charming.
Another weigh-in for Matilda today.
"What is she, a wrestler?"
"No, but she is up 4 oz. in 5 days."
Also, is 20 inches long, but she's still swimming in all of her clothes. Her legs are like toothpicks sticking out of the leg holes in her onsies. She still only fits in her newborn sleep sacs. We have to roll up the rims of her hats twice so they don't cover her nose. They still sometimes cover her eyes.
I mentioned to the pediatrician that while she'll take a bottle from Niclas (of the one ounce I'm able to pump a day), it never seems to quiet her down enough to sleep. He said that's because she's HIGH MAINTENANCE and I was like, "Wait. What? You mean some babies are easier than this? We got a high strung one?" "Well, yes. It should peak in the next week or so." *slack jaw*
See, her constant eating and the fact that she is rarely ok napping when not drapped over one of us? Plus the fact that the only way I've found to GET SOME SLEEP is to pull her into the bed with us because she just cries in her laundry basket and wants to snack all night? Is hard and sure I'm tired, but I think we're fairing pretty well with all this. So the fact that she's not exactly an easy baby made me feel better and not worse. Tired, but we're decent parents afterall.
Plus, right now? She's sleeping. IN HER CAR SEAT. So I have two hands free!
By the time we brought Matilda home from the hospital, I was So Excited to have my body back that I felt like spending the night in gold hot pants at Studio 54 spinning in Disco Inferno circles and spilling my cocktails all over the dance floor.
...OK not quite, but pretty close. Basically, I was shocked at how much I was loving not being pregnant, seeing as I didn't mind being pregnant. I mentioned to Niclas that I never wanted to be pregnant again. "Can we adopt the rest of them?" Knowing full well that he would not go for it. "But look how cute this one is!"
I always said I'd rather adopt (after I stopped saying I never wanted kids) and I still would like to, but I'm discovering that adopting is like raising kids in New York City. You really have to be loaded to pull it off. We're not. And since we don't seem to have any problems getting pregnant, I'm guessing I'm going to be going through all this a second time.
Which (sort of) brings me to my point. These last four weeks (Almost. Matilda is a month old tomorrow!) has seen me swing from one end of the spectrum to the other. Sometimes I look at Matilda and I can't wait to get started on the next one because this one is so gorgeous and adorable and every day she discovers something new to BREAK MY HEART INTO A BILLION PIECES. Other times, I look at my flabby stomach at 3AM when I'm up and in the middle of a 2-hour feed and can't imagine putting myself through this again. Flip. Flop. Except honestly, I know I'll be putting myself through this again and if I don't want to spend more money on maternity clothes, we'll be trying come next May or so. *Heart Palpitations*
We took Matilda to the pediatrician's office today to weigh her. She's up to 6lbs. 3 oz., which means my boobs are working and she's right on track. I spoke to the lactation consultant on the phone last night when we were setting up a time for the weigh in. The conversation went something like this:
Me: I'm convinced my milk is not keeping up with h...
Her: It's fine.
Me: Oh. But my breasts don't have time to get engor..
Her: It's fine.
Me: But she nurses ALL the ti...
Her: That's normal.
Me: But I'm talking 20 minutes of and 20 minutes off?
Her: Sure, that's normal.
Me: WELL WHY DIDN'T ANYONE TELL ME THAT THREE WEEKS AGO.
So things are starting to look up. Between the LC being all, "It's all normal. YOU'RE NORMAL." and the fenugreek I've been taking, Matilda and I have worked it out. In fact, she just popped herself off and OMG she had 2, TWO milk drips on her chin.
The added bonus is that my chins are melting off of me and onto her. *SCORE*
I smell like maple syup. Who wants pancakes?
Matilda is one month old today. We're still working on a one-way street (we give, she takes), but this morning she pulled a new trick out of her bag. Thus far, I've been able to stay in bed with her as long as I wanted. I could just pop a boob in her mouth and drift back off to sleep. This morning, that worked once but then she was all, "No see, I'm AWAKE. You're required to get up and ENTERTAIN ME." *chop chop*
Gna. Which was a bummer as I was (still am) tired. But ok I got up with her. And seeing as she was in a great mood, I dropped her in her crib and turned on her new mobile. And you know what? She was totally content in there, looking around and listening to the baby Bach.
After I brushed my teeth, I came back to find her STILL CONTENT. I stood there watching her at a loss. I'm not sure what to do with myself when she's content and not strapped to my chest. She threw me and it's only Month One. We're SO IN FOR IT.
Remember when I said we were so in for it? Right. I had the audacity to put Matilda in her laundry basket so I could shower today. She had been sleeping peacfully in the sling prior to this obviously terrible idea, but the second her head hit the mattress, ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. And I let it.
I'm all for this Attachment Parenting thing, TO A POINT. I'll carry Matilda around in the sling and I'll feed her on demand and co-sleep (out of desperation more than anything), but hell if I'm going to forgo showering or shaving or brushing my teeth to appease the little machine.
Most of the time, she's pretty quiet, BECAUSE IT'S HARD TO YELL WITH A NIPPLE IN YOUR MOUTH, but once in a while she's given the opportunity to check her lungs. This morning was one of those times. Thing is, once I got out of the shower and went to pick her up? She had actual tears. Up to yesterday, her eyes remained dry in the midst of the most outrageous You-Are-Cutting-Off-My-Leg-With-A-Rusty-Razor red-faced hysteria. But now she's added real wet tears to the equation, which obviously ups the guilt factor. *SWEARWORD*
If something happens three days in a row, does that mean it's a routine? Because the last three mornings, Matilda has woken up and been all "I'm awake. Let's get a move on." And the last three days, I've gotten up and put her in her crib while I went to the bathroom. These last three days, she's put up with it and folks, I think that means we have a routine. It only lasts 10 minutes, but it's 10 minutes that I'm not required to hold her. My arms thank the routine.
This morning, after The Routine and the morning nursing, I handed Matilda over to Niclas and fled the house. I went to the gym because I figured, hell, I feel great! And these pounds are not just melting off on their own. Guess what, though? 15 minutes on a cross-trainer and I was pretty much cross-eyed. BUT. Niclas managed to get The Fist of Fury to nap, in the sling, around 10AM. It's 1:26 and she's Still! Napping! On him! Which means I've had my limbs and my boobs to myself all morning and now well into the afternoon!
He got her to take a pacifier somewhere in the middle of this epic nap. This is good and bad. It's good for now as it means we're not required to be within boob or finger reach from her, but it also means she might get used to the pacifier and then we'll have to break that habit down the line. But one step at a time here, and right now I'd like that step to involve a little sleep.
What if I told you I have a cold but Matilda, as of yet, does not? Would you suggest I start pumping breast milk for my own consumption as clearly that's what's keeping her from getting sick? Because I'm not about to drink breast milk. But having a head cold on top of The Parental Tired is so not fair.
Matilda is five weeks old today. We went to bed last night a little after 10, after Matilda slept on our chests through some CSI and L&O. She began her nap on me, but Niclas kept edging closer and closer to me until he was almost in my lap and because Matilda was already on my chest, I WAS A LITTLE SHORT ON SPACE. So we moved her over to him. But then he got a little overheated so we shuffled her back to me. ANYWAY. We went to bed and it's not like I expected to sleep through the night, but I certainly didn't expect the first feeding to start at 12:15 and still be going strong at 2:15. Nor did I think it would entail two diaper changes (so far), impending crank every time she finds her mouth missing a boob and SOMEONE spitting up milk all over my top.
Maybe this is a growth spurt. It better not be a new sleep pattern.
'Round these parts, Saturday is Shower Day for the very small. This Saturday, we finally remembered to take the camera into the bathroom along with the baby, two hooded towels, washcloth, baby shampoo, giant baby-safe q-tip, baby body cream, clean diaper, wipes, clean onsie and sleep sac and Safer Bather (which we don't use as directed, but instead use to lie the baby on before and after her shower).
Matilda's Swedish Grandmother and Aunt arrived on Thursday night. I was a little worried that all they were going to see of Matilda was the back of her head for a week and a 1/2, what with the previous four weeks of constant eating. Thankfully, Matilda has been in rare social form so far. Niclas changed her diaper and with an audience of 6, she kicked her chicken legs and made adorable infant faces and basically was as cute as humanly possible in something not nearly big enough to be considered a human. *wipes brow*
She's also continued to use the pacifier. I think this is the first official instance of I Can't Believe I Have a Kid Who Does That. And I can't believe I'm the mother who gets up from the dinner table to shove the pacifier back in her mouth when she pushes it out and starts making noises. Am totally that mother. What? It's either that or I'm eating risotto with my boob hanging out and I'd really like to keep The Mystery alive for someone I meet in the next few months. My only hope is that we wean Matilda off the pacifier before she hits the toddler years.
Now we can talk about me. Went to the gym again yesterday. 20 minutes on a cross trainer and aside from having to blow my nose the entire time, it went a little better. The yellow brick road is long, but at least I'm on it. Plus, I made an appointment to color my hair. Last time I did this was 11 months ago, so you can imagine how overdue this is. VERY OVERDUE.
- In a blue lighted Billy Bed sleeping bag to counteract her jaundice
- Forced to lie on a travel-size Billy Bed spatula-like light at home for one night
- To the neighborhood golf course
- Around the block twice
- Back to the hospital where she was born, to delivery candy
- To my OB/GYN's office to drop off some books
- To the pediatrician 5 times (two different Doctors, one Lactation Consultant, two locations, same practice)
- To Babies R Us, Marshall's, Whole Foods, Star Market and the mall, twice
- To a Mexican restaurant and a seaside pub for lunch (she nursed at the latter, slept through the former)
- Introduced to three different kinds of pacifiers (she is only interested in the one that came from the hospital. Good thing it's got a website url on it so we were able to order more for when we LOSE THIS ONE. Because you know that will happen)
- Put down for a nap in two different laundry baskets (unsuccessfully)
- Put down for a nap on Papa, myself, Ninnie (Swedish grandmother) and in her carseat (successfully)
- Dressed in the same two newborn-size sleep sacs as they were the only things that fit her until her Ninnie breezed into town and took in some of her outfits to make them small enough for The Walnut to wear: