The Labor Lady Gets Pregnant

The Language of Motherhood

2012-02-23T09:48:00.005-05:00

Moby. Boppy. Binky. Bippy. Nuk. Bladaladaladalal. Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa. Pumpkin. Punkin pie. Punks McGee. Punkadoodle Roo. Punkadoodle Brown. Mama, Papa, Nana, and Poppy. These are all words used to describe objects used by the baby (or refused and spit out by the baby), sounds I make to get him cooing and smiling, names I call him and names he will eventually call us. I feel like I've started speaking a new language. Also I speak in third person a LOT. Go figure, he likes the sound of my voice and will let me set him down in his bouncy seat if I carry on talking. So everything is done with a running third person narrative. It's fun when I'm cooking, I practice for having my own show on Food Network. Anything else sounds ridiculous. "Mommy will be right back, she just has to go potty REAL fast!" "Mommy's brushing her teeth, brushing your teeth is very important so you don't have to do anything at the dentist but cleanings every six months" (there's fabulous Raffi song that goes with brushing though, it's rather fun). "Hang on Bubby, Mommy has to find and put on her pants! Where are Mommy's pants? Oh where or where are Mommy's pants, oh where oh where could they beeeeee?" This goes on all day. When Hubs arrives home, I'm just thankful that he can pick up the narrative (his is much more creative than mine, they talk about basketball and our superhero family called the S'Mores Family which borders on racist considering it's all based on our skin colors...).

Friends teased me pre-baby about my tendency to end up talking about poop. I think this is normal as a nurse, our conversations are notoriously inappropriate. But NOW - it's all about boobs, breastmilk, whether my breastmilk has butter in it or is pork flavored (that last one came from my sister-in-law and made me laugh hysterically), how my birth went blah blah and finally - what a newborn's poop should look like (mustard with seeds in it - super fun when you change a diaper and then sit down to eat a sandwich Hubs has made with copious amounts of mustard on it). Hey, at least my friends are used to me being inappropriate...

In case you don't know the Brush Your Teeth song (you should):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TSy0Pp2kTbo
You really only need to know the tune, G has heard MANY versions of this song.

Ode to Nana

2012-02-22T11:47:00.004-05:00

My mother is my hero. I think with the events of the past few months that the feeling may be mutual, but if I've been heroic - it has everything to do with my support system. Aside from having a truly amazing husband who is so obviously LOVING his role as father and husband, I have a really fantastic mom - G's Nana.

Nana came to rescue me from uncomfortable boredom three weeks before my son arrived. I honestly believe that he should have arrived at least week (but maybe even two) before he did. When he came out, to my nurse's eye, he looked a lot more overcooked than three days. That would explain all the work my body did attempting to get him out. Mom was there for every tired step I took. She made sure I was fed, hydrated and entertained. She single-handedly doubled (probably tripled) G's wardrobe and filled our house with all the little things her experience told her we'd need (like a nursing stool, extra boxes of nursing pads and a new coffee pot for my husband). When she showed up for her last visit, she brought other priceless items with her - my favorite is the bouncy seat that allowed me to take a shower without waiting for daddy to be home or the baby to be asleep. He sat peacefully in his seat on the floor outside the shower while I talked and sang my way through my morning routine. Mom figured since I was such a fan of my bouncy seat, my son would be as well - she was correct. As usual.

The best part of having my mom drive the seven hours from Ohio and sacrifice time with the rest of her/our family wasn't the stuff she bought for us (although greatly appreciated by both us and Discover Card). The best parts were the little tidbits of knowledge she'd give me before G was born and in the weeks after. Knowing what was about to happen to my body while breastfeeding made the first tortuous month bearable. When my boobs were exploding with milk (literally, I woke up having soaked the bed underneath one side), she calmly assured me the worst wouldn't last more than 24 hours and to just keep nursing and drinking TONS of fluids. She's the one who quietly noticed that what I thought were milk spots (I'll NEVER live this down), was actually thrush. If I'd let it go, the few days of stingy nipple hell could have lasted weeks. My nurse brain often threatens to overtake my intuition, thankfully my mom routinely encourages me to follow my intuition. G wasn't sleeping more than 45-90 minutes at a time in his bed, on his back. Mom gently reminded me that I slept on my stomach from birth, in their bed and that Graham would be ok if we let him sleep the way he was most comfortable (the boy could flip onto his belly from birth). When we flipped him over and tucked him in between us for the first time, we all slept for six straight blissful hours and I started to regain my sanity. I've learned that if I go off and a tangent and Mom quietly hums "hmmm", she's trying not to step on my thought process. But if I want to make things easier on myself, I need to just ask her what she thinks - she's right 98% of the time. The other 2% are times when my knowledge of my own kid negates something she's read about babies in general. She NEVER fails to congratulate me for paying such close attention to my child, which always gives me a nice confidence boost.

My mom and I have always been very close, but our relationship has not always been perfect. We've done a lot of work to get where we are and I'm SO incredibly thankful that we are still close. I don't think mothers and daughters should be friends during childhood, daughters need strong parental guidance (as I had) to get through the tumultuous teenage and young adult years. Although challenging to get through the transition painlessly, I've discovered that you CAN have an awesome friendship with your mother once you become an adult child. You can have someone who knows you very well standing behind you as you enter parenthood, praying for you, cheering for you and calmly humming "hmm" when she knows you need a smidge more parenting. Love you Mom!

Malibu Nursing

2012-02-13T14:16:00.003-05:00

I don't whip out my boobs in public. Granted, those in my church's small group may beg to differ, but in general I am not a public nurser. This is another facet of motherhood that surprises me. I had all these preconceived notions about the kind of mother I'd be and half of them turned out to be the complete opposite. Cloth diapers are an example...I bought all these adorable cloth diapers (I picked gDiapers) and go figure, my giant son didn't fit them. The newborn ones were immediately too small and by them time his umbilical cord fell off, he didn't fit the small ones either. Disposable diapers were in!

Anyway, back to my boobs. I was contemplating my tendency to find a private corner to nurse in when we're out yesterday. I was snuggled in the backseat of my husband's car with a very hungry little boy. We were out to lunch with friends that are notorious for turning lunch into a 4-hour affair. It's wonderful, but with a quickly growing breastfed kid, he's not waiting until we're back home for food. I COULD have whipped out a boob, the restaurant was basically empty, but instead I scurried off to the car.

I have a couple of logistical reasons for not nursing in public. My son HATES head coverings - he could never be Jewish...he literally whines when we put a hat on him, even when I calmly explain that the temperature outside necessitates head gear. He doesn't care. The one time I attempted to cover his head and my boob, he tossed his head furiously while keeping a firm grip on the nipple. I was not amused. That crosses using a tasteful cover off the list! The other issue I have is that I don't have tiny breasts. Between my giant adorable baby who garners a ton of attention and my giant not-as-adorable boobs, I'm not sure we're capable of discreet nursing without a cover. SO into the car we go.

I like nursing in the car, it's cramped back there and therefore easier to maneuver us into position. Strange, I know, but true. I also like nursing in private. I know that it's just fulfilling one of his basic needs, but it's also a private activity for us. He looks at me out of the corner of his eyes and occasionally breaks into a grin. He bats his hand around until it's in place on my boob above his mouth. It's our time to reconnect after several hours where he's taken in tons of new info and probably gotten a little overstimulated. Breastfeeding is something I've looked forward to for YEARS. After a month of torture, a lot of tears, and horrible moments when I grudgingly admitted to myself that I didn't like it, nursing has FINALLY become calm and peaceful. Engorgement feels nice - the girls know G is hungry before I do! It's not an activity I want to do in front of strangers, it's one during which I want to be fully present. It's difficult for me to pay attention and gaze at him when I'm in a restaurant or surrounded by random people. SO many people remind me (almost daily) that this time is precious and flies by. (G reminds of it daily as he's only a month old and already in six month clothing!!) Sometimes I think "yeah, yeah I get it, savor every moment blah blah blah", but when I get settled in to nurse my little buddy, I get it. So unless I'm in the living room of our small group leaders, I prefer to hole us up in the privacy of the Malibu :). Meanwhile, the monster has woken up, it's time for us to snuggle into our favorite couch corner!

*End note: I wrote this before my mom came to visit and rescued us from inappropriate "head coverings". She heard me complaining about G's hatred for anything over his head and wanted to know why I was covering up his head. Then she lovingly demonstrated the PROPER way to discreetly nurse in public and helped me try it out over our Valentine's Day lunch. Thank God for tenting, now we can go out and I can be confident that if I MUST, I can nurse in public without exposing the girls too much. I figured I'd publish this anyway...gotta be able to laugh at yourself right?

The Fog and The Nevers

2012-02-10T14:57:00.004-05:00

I'm starting to come out of the first month fog. That first flurry of blogging was due to my child taking 2-3hr long naps each morning. He doesn't do that anymore. He takes cat naps in the morning and takes his long nap in the afternoon - typically on me (his preference, he immediately starts snuffling around if I put him down). I'd be annoyed but I know this time will quickly pass me by and before I know it he'll be a little boy running around that I have to BEG for snuggles. And so, much has been put on the back burner - blogging is just one of the things. Let's not talk about the fact that there is still a stack of baby announcements waiting to be sealed and stamped...

A couple of things kept occurring to me through the fog, most likely because I was asked so often about our birth story and I discovered I was breastfeeding a nibbly little tiger shark (his teeth have since retracted). There are a couple of things that will never cross my lips when I'm speaking to a new mom-to-be.

"Contractions are just a muscle working very hard and if you can relax your body enough, it doesn't have to hurt (as long as you and baby are healthy)." Some might say that my view of labor is skewed because I wasn't "healthy" (taking into consideration my tiny abruption and brewing uterine infection) - fine, write me off as unhealthy and therefore unqualified to dispell this myth. Go for it. Meanwhile, I will never say that again to a mom. Here's the problem. Labor IS just a muscle working very hard to do what it was designed for - but have you ever done squats every five minutes for several hours and not been in pain? Regardless of how perfectly you yoga-breathed through them, told yourself it would be worth it when you fit into those cute shorts, used the roller thingy to break up lactic acid etc? Labor is a workout and yeah, it's probably gonna hurt. And even if it doesn't hurt, it's INTENSE. It requires serious concentration and it requires that you LET GO of everything you thought about the process and just go with it. What I will tell moms is all the things you can do to help yourself have a powerful birth. And that the purpose of childbirth education is so that you know your options ahead of time so you don't have to waste energy taking in too much new info while dealing with squats every five minutes ;).

"If the latch is correct, breastfeeding doesn't hurt!" What. A. Crock. Of. CRAP. Breasts were designed to nourish babies. I'm not arguing with the Creator, but I don't think nipples were designed to have tiny vacuums attached for 20 minutes or more at a time. Thank GOD my mom and dear friend told me to hang with it and just wait for the month mark. At two weeks, when I was still crying during the latching process, this sounded like an ETERNITY. At five weeks now, they were right. And the books that include that ridiculous statement above are correct. When your baby is a month old, if the latch is correct, breastfeeding won't hurt. Well...either that or by then your nipples are so "broken in" they don't notice pain anymore! So I'm not setting moms up for that expectation. It hurts. However, it's totally worth it. I'm a pretty accomplished woman - I graduated top of my class in nursing school. But nothing, NOTHING has made me feel more accomplished that seeing my son fatten up because of the milk I'm making and feeding him. Nothing is sweeter than having him settle in with his sweet little body curled around mine to eat or hearing that adorable singing noise he makes when he first starts eating (as if the milk is SO delicious he must sing about it). He's started a new habit and it's ridiculously heartwarming. Lately, after he's done eating and is up on my shoulder for a burp, he backs up to look at me. I always smile at him and say "hi buddy!" Last night, middle of the night, he smiled right back at me and giggled a little. Did it again today. Those two little moments made that whole month of torture worth it.

Right after G got here, I wasn't so sure I wanted anything to do with the birth world. A lot of things that used to make me smile when I saw them were pissing me off. I felt set up - I really struggled during labor thinking that I HAD to be doing something wrong, labor wasn't supposed to hurt! Same with breastfeeding, I MUST be a failure at getting him to latch, it HURT. I felt like I'd flat out lied (misled and arrogant as I was) to my past clients. I have pregnant friends looking to me for advice and answers and my inital reseponse (post-G) was "I don't know crap, do whatever you want." I've calmed down as I've emerged from the fog. We childbirth educators say things like "it doesn't have to hurt" etc because we are trying DESPERATELY to counter the fear of childbirth that is bred into our culture. Yes, childbirth hurts. No, it isn't something you should be afraid of. As intense and painful as it can be, it is so very empowering and so very worth all the effort. It's bigger than running a marathon or anything else in life. It's also just one day (or so) and more importantly, it's just the beginning of something truly amazing.