One year ago tonight I went to a burlesque show with great hope of finding some loving, sexy energy that would slide my baby out from his comfortable nest within.  My water broke during intermission.

One year ago tomorrow, I became a mother.  I’m sad to report that I haven’t been to a single burlesque show (or show in general) since.  I am happy to report the following:

Axelrod has been with us for a year.  He is amazing.  He is sweet and hilarious.  He, like the other people I am attracted to and love, is already somewhat complicated and layered.  He somehow manages to embody the adjectives slow, easy, feeling, introspective and observant while also being silly, stubborn, persistent, curious, and happy.

Today, while I sat and typed a gratuitous email on my iPhone, Niko cruised around our coffee table with a crumpled dollar in his hand.  Trying to get my attention, proud of his acquisition, he waved to me.  I smiled and continued to type while watching him from my periphery.   He reached the end of the coffee table, grinning, and took three steps towards me.  These are his first multiple steps!  He did them without any encouragement.  It is so like him to wait until we don’t expect him to do something, then get right into it.  He laughed, we laughed.  We all knew we were having a moment.

To prepare for those three steps, his sleep has been difficult lately. When I say “difficult,” I mean to the tune of hourly + wakings a night.  Every 2 hours, I seem to be able to handle.  Every hour?  Not so easily.  It is a testament to how awesome this kid is when I tell you that we continue to survive and continue to laugh with him for the majority of our day.  We trust that his second year will bring more rest to the whole family.

This year, I have learned so much.  I don’t know how to put it all into words.  I am practicing patience.  I am navigating the wilds of marriage with new added richness and responsibility.  I am learning, through my child, how to be more authentic and true to myself.  I am learning how to forget about an afternoon of stress and, instead, just go to the playground!  I am learning to let go, while holding together so much.

I never knew my heart could be so full.  I never knew that the simplest children’s books could make me cry so much.  I never knew how much one very small person could change my life.  I never knew that hard work could be so gratifying, or that something so gratifying could be so difficult.  I never really understood how much being a parent could change me; I realize that no one could ever know.

Obviously, I am so glad that we decided to walk down this road.  I love my little family, utterly, and can not imagine my life without this husband or baby.  I am so thankful to have both of those spirits in my life.  I feel totally fortunate.  Even in my darkest, most resentful moments (believe me, I’ve had many), I feel grateful.

Thanks so much to all of you for following us along on this journey.  And!

Happy Birthday, Axelrod!

Hello everyone! Happy New Year!!

I was stopped so many times in the past few weeks and asked about this blog! I didn’t realize that there were so many people following our story and want to thank you all so very much for your support!

We haven’t been updating over here for a few reasons. First of all, Milton has started a new company and is really dedicating every second of his time to making that company work. If you’re interested in checking out those digs, I would really recommend it, especially if you are resolved to improve your health during 2011.

Second, I have been in sleep deprived mommy swirl. I barely remember these past few months. I have skimmed every book that anyone ever suggested to try and get our Crane to sleep more than an hour at a time, with little success. He’s just not a good sleeper. Yet!

Here is a comment I shared in an entry below that I thought should be shared on this blog, in general:

The whole sleep regression never really ended for us. We’re just maybe, sort of rounding the bend now, when our guy is almost 8 months of age.

I have had a lot of thoughts about sleep and parenting in the past few months. I’ve felt mentally ill. At my worst, I’ve felt that mothering was an exercise in misogyny. I’ve had 3am mommy meltdowns that have SHAMED me when 9 am rolled around again and I made myself a cup of coffee.

I’ve rallied, again and again, telling myself that I CAN handle it! If he only wakes every other hour, I CAN handle it. And it’s true, if he only wakes every OTHER hour, I can do it and still go to work and smile and cook and go for walks. But where does that leave me when he wakes every hour? Every 30 minutes? Because, believe me, that has been more the norm than him waking every other hour.

Two things that have recently helped me:

1) Calms Forte. This is a homeopathic sleep-aid that my naturopath suggested I try. I take three every night before bed. They have helped me avoid MOST mommy meltdowns and have kept me groggy through all the feedings, whereas before, my sleep deprived brain would get mighty anxious and keep me awake with all its incessant and bitchy blather.

2) This is a new development, but now Milton is taking a long middle of the night parenting shift. We are going to gradually start night weaning so that Mr. Crane ultimately doesn’t ask for it between 12 and 7am. Last night I fed him at 11, and then again at 2. Then, Milton came up from his couch and I went downstairs. Between 2-7, Mr. Crane punched his pop when he woke, but knew he couldn’t get any, so ultimately went back to sleep. I fed him again at 7 and we had family bed time until 8.

I feel GREAT today. This might just work for us. I am closing my ears to anyone who tells me that I shouldn’t night wean until he is a year old because I really don’t think that my crazymaking stress hormones are good for any of us. Mr. Crane is a 25lb 7.5 month old, and he will get through this alive and sweet, I am SURE.

I hope to be blogging a little bit more over here once my brain is kept clear for a bit longer. Until then, here is a holiday photo of our lovable dude:

Mr. Crane meets Santa for the first time!

Oh internet, where does the time go? Oh! Wait! I know where it went…

I lost it to the so called 4 month sleep regression. This, of course, came in tandem with my triumphant return to the VAIN beauty world and our baby’s first cold.  Seriously, the world of baby parenting decided to throw me three difficult things at once and see if we would sink or swim.

We swam.  We swam our hearts out!  We swam even when we felt we were sinking.  We adults navigated through exhausted rows with each other, necessary naps that were foiled by the ever-present boogers, and nights peppered with our sweet baby waking every 45 minutes to nurse.  We swam because we had to.

There were days when I wondered how I was even standing by the end of my shift at work.  There were even days when I dove right into a glass of wine as soon as the baby went down.  But one thing that came out of it was this:

The further we went down the path of no sleep, the further we went down the path of shifting the baby from one partner to another to facilitate sleep before a productive day at work…  the further we moved from fighting with each other to actually working with each other.

I meditated soundly on keeping my mind quiet.  Every time my exhausted brain tried to tell me some story about why things weren’t working for ME, I went for a walk, took a bath, or just left the stupid laundry and dishes to fester.  In the meantime, my husband, who is really so amazing, did his absolute most to give me a break when ever I looked like I was going to break.  We worked better on the mechanics of parenting together, and I would say that ultimately this month of sleep regression/boogers/work has come out making us much stronger.

Of course, it helps that our child looks like this:

I mean. Seriously.

I had certainly heard of 4 month old sleep regressions, and then I suddenly found myself in the midst of one, confused.  As if the 4 month regression wasn’t supposed to apply to me.

For nights on end, my little bubbly crane has been waking me at least every hour, screaming to nurse.  It was so startling.  And then, after days, I found myself exhausted and questioning things like co-sleeping, nursing, and parenting in general.  I was worried that I was making the wrong sleeping decisions for our family, and asking Milton every day what we could change so that we could all get some sleep.

Most startling was the scream he would wake with.  As if I wasn’t right there, next to him.  I worried that he was getting demanding with the boobs, thinking about all of those “cry it out” instructions and all of those people who ever told me that co-sleeping wouldn’t work.  I didn’t know quite what to do because, hey! we live in a studio.  Crying it out would be crying it out for the whole family, and I can’t have that right when I’m about to go back to work.  Plus I can’t bear to hear it from my awesome baby.  If he’s crying, he needs me.  And we needed sleep- not exhausted tears!

The worst was last Saturday night.  I was getting ready to go out for my very first dancing night on the town since, goodness, last New Years Eve, and our little crane was nuts with screaming.  I’ve never heard anything like it.  We had been out all day and he was certainly sleepy, but he had gotten some naps in and shouldn’t have been feeling as if he were being murdered.  Eventually, he fell asleep in Milton’s arms… Milton shoo’d me out the door… and I went DANCING.  I felt horribly guilty, but it certainly renewed my confidence and efforts through the all night long nursing.

As sleep regressions are supposed to be coupled with big developmental surges, I watched our crane for scooting, which he’s doing a little bit of, but that sort of brain activity didn’t seem to count towards screaming.  Little guy is too sweet for that.

Finally, yesterday at bath time, he pulled a my finger to his mouth.  He loves tasting the water on my fingers.  Water is a crazy curiousity to him, right now!  He likes it, but hasn’t figured out that it can be fun.  It’s scary, interesting… and it tastes good.  He chomped down on my finger and OMG!  TOOTH!!  His lower left-hand front tooth is poking out!

I cried my eyes out and gave him his first breast milk popsicle.  I’m going to cherish every last one of the gummy bites on the right side of his mouth.

I was extra patient through last night’s nursing.  Poor guy.  Teeth hurt!  I was really hoping we had more time without them.

In other news, he is rolling over! He started about 2 weeks ago. Above is a photo I managed to snap right after his first time getting to his belly on his own. I asked him how he felt! He said I FEEL TOUGH.

Since he’s such a big boy now, I put him in the main seat of his stroller for the first time. It was hard for me to do because I love to have him face me in his infant seat so that I can watch his every funny expression… but I thought we’d try it out. I’m happy to report that he was also skeptical about not seeing his mom all the time…

Also of note… our guy now weighs 20 pounds. I know! Right?

In the beginning, we decided to use disposables for a few weeks so that we could learn our Little Crane’s schedule… and figure out how to change diapers in general.  Our plan was to switch to a pre-fold diaper service after the trial disposable period, which was supposed to last for 2 weeks.

We started off with Pampers Swaddlers because someone had brought over a few and they seemed to work well.  After a short while, I was totally disenchanted with them.  If he wet himself an awful lot, the diapers would ooze bits of the gel inside that contained the wet.  The gel was hard to clean off and really grossed me out.  What is in this gel, anyway?  I didn’t know that I wanted it near my son’s bits.  Also, the Pampers had this crazy crazy diaper stink.  The kind of smell that comes out of a public bathroom, where they try to contain all that nasty with detergents that we all now associate with more nasty.  Every time the lid to the diaper can (which was OH SO CONVENIENTLY next to our bed during the first 3 weeks) came up, my sensitive noise balked and my gag reflex engaged.

Luckily, he quickly grew out of size one diapers and we switched him to Whole Foods brand size 2 (for some reason the ones were not available).  These don’t use nasty gel to contain the wet, and do a pretty awesome job without it.  I’ve never had a problem with leaking unless our son has been obviously neglected (I won’t get into those afternoons when maybe we weren’t as attentive as we should have been).  Also, they don’t try to hide the fact that poop stinks with a fragrance that frankly, stinks.  So, in my opinion, the diaper pail was easier on the nose.

By now you’re probably thinking that we used disposables far beyond the reach of 2 weeks, and you’re right!  We were a little bit daunted by the idea of cloth diapering during that first month.  The second month, I procrastinated a little.  Finally, some friends of ours gave us some Thirsties brand covers to try out.  My mom also generously offered to pay for several months of our diaper service.  I finally started using the pre-folds with covers about a week ago!

I have to say… it’s really easy.  I’m sort of ashamed that I didn’t start a little sooner, but at least I know that we don’t have to fear the cloth!  A pre-fold service is probably the easiest way to go if you’re turning to cloth.  I don’t have to handle any more laundry in our tiny studio; all the dirty diapers magically disappear once a week and get replaced by clean diapers right outside our door!  Once I got the knack of folding and positioning the fold, I got pretty darn quick with it.

Sadly, the Thirsties didn’t last more than 2 days.  The extra small size was just too small on our gentle giant.  Luckily, I had a bunch of Bum Genius covers that had been lent to us from an old friend back east.  I tried them on a few weeks ago with the inserts she sent along before we started getting pre-fold service and they were pretty giant on him.  We immediately had a terrible blowout that managed to somehow work it’s way all around the house!  I put them away for a while, thinking that they would maybe fit when he was 6 months old.  But, well, when I decided that the Thirsties didn’t fit and that I didn’t want to buy a whole ‘nother set of 6 diaper covers right away… I tried the Bum Genius covers out again, this time just using the pre-fold against his skin, rather than stuffing the pocket.  I know that’s not the way you’re supposed to use them, but they seem to be working just fine!  We haven’t had a single accident in the past week, which is more than I can say for any other week with disposables.

Now our guy lets us know EVERY TIME he is wet.  IMMEDIATELY.  He does NOT like to be wet.  Luckily, the wet voice is has a pretty obvious tone.  It sounds like he’s saying, “Hey!  WTF?  I’m not comfortable and you need to take care of it.”  It’s not a cry!  It’s an uncomfortable alert that will eventually turn into a cry if we don’t change him within around 15 minutes.  Now I’m finding that this guy generally needs changing every 45 minutes to an hour during the day.  This is actually pretty awesome because I feel as if it will ultimately make our communication with each other much better.  I am hoping to start watching for cues during the next few months so we can try our hands at Elimination Communication for a few hours every day and perhaps give him an early start to taking care of business on his own.

Because he gets so upset about wetting himself, we are still using disposables during the night and when we go out for long spells in not very kid friendly venues during the day.  I’m just not willing to stress the whole family out by taking on multiple diaper changes during the night.  We are enjoying sleeping for a few hours at a time!  We are also enjoying the mornings, when I bring our Crane to bed at 5,  just roll over to nurse him at 7, and sleep until 9.  That delicious morning time wouldn’t be possible without his sporting those disposables.

Here he is just yesterday in a Bum Genius cover, as I swaddled him to take a nap and he thought about how to torture the cat once he gets full control of his hands:

Swaddle Times

(Please ignore the fact that his outfit does not match.  It made sense before I took his pants and jacket off for his nap!)

“Is he sleeping through the night?”

I must get asked this question at least 4 times a week.  The first person who asked it was asking when our little baby boy was only 2 weeks old!  ”Of course he’s not!” I answered.  Had he been sleeping through the night at 2 weeks of age, I would have been ripping my hair out wondering what was wrong.

According to every book I read about infants and sleep, he won’t be physically or mentally prepared to sleep through the night until he’s about 4 months of age.  This is universally accepted from the rigid Baby Wise to the attachment parenting guru, Dr. Sears.  So?  Why am I being asked this question about my 8 week old?

About 4 nights ago, our Lucky Crane slept for a full 6 hours.  I, however, have not gotten 6 hours of full sleep since he was born.  For the last 2 hours of that 6 hour stretch, I laid on the couch next to the pram, dozing and waiting for him to wake with my huge aching breasts, telling myself not to worry and NOT to wake the sleeping baby.

So, you see, he’s not the only one who’s not quite ready to sleep through the night.

We have adapted pretty well to the strange new parent sleeping cycle.  I try to let Milton sleep through most of the feeding shifts because he has to have brains enough to work with during the day, whereas I can (and often do) take a two hour nap in the afternoon right next to the baby.  The biggest physical problem I’ve noticed in myself after a couple of months of sleeping in 2 hour bursts is that I’m grinding my teeth quite a bit and spending a lot of my day with an aching jaw.  I’m hoping that my next acupuncture appointment can relieve some of that pressure.  I know for a fact that quitting coffee would also relieve some pressure… but I’m not sure how to do that just now.  I tried to quit right after the birth, but was so plagued by the withdraw headache that I went right back to my cup in the morning and have not felt one ounce of guilt.  This isn’t a huge problem, though, the headaches from coffee withdraw are far far worse than the occasional headache from my jaw being troublesome.

I get a lot done in the middle of the afternoon and early evenings when our guy sleeps for long bursts.  And I get a lot of cuddle sleepy times in between 6am and 10am, when we both wake and sleep in each other’s arms between bursts of cluster feeding.  This has become one of my favorite times of the day!  I truly believe in breast feeding on demand, and feel very connected to him through this process.

So.  No, our boy is not sleeping through the night.  But we’re feeling pretty alright about that for now.

Sleepy men

So.  I want to lose 10 pounds of baby weight by the end of the summer.

I kept in pretty good shape through my pregnancy!  I did yoga very regularly and walked everywhere.  My eating habits are pretty darn good, too.   But, still, I gained 35 pounds.  2o of that came off right away, and then 5 more were sweat into the bed in the first week or two after his birth.  That was great!  I had never undergone such a physical change so quickly.  There were days when I looked into the mirror and said things like, “I can’t believe I EVER thought I needed to lose a single pound before pregnancy!”  After all those weeks of growing bigger and BIGGER, I felt so tiny in those first weeks after labor and delivery.

That said, my skinny feelings are over.  Like, really over.  Nothing fits.  I have a closet full of pretty dresses that won’t zip over my anything.  I have a shelf full of size 28 jeans that can barely fit around my ample thighs.  It’s not horrible.  It’s not earth-shattering.  It’s certainly not a deep and meaty thing to talk about… but it I do feel a little disheartened.

I am stoked to be a mom, but I want to be a hot mom!  I want to be a mom with something that resembles my old body.  I realize that I’ll have a little bit of extra that requires me to wear my Spanks a little more often, but I at least want my dresses to zip.

SO!  With all of this in mind, I have eaten my last almond croissant for a while and I am getting down to business with proper eating.  I’m sure that I’ll feel like eating the floor often enough, and I’m also sure that I’ll let myself eat the floor since I am breast-feeding a boy who is above the 95th percentile for size… but the floor had better be made of whole grains, veggies, and lean proteins.  No more fish and chips from Ivar’s, no more sneaking cookies, and no more rationalizing french toast for breakfast.

I am also glad to have the green light to work out to my heart’s content again.  Mind you, my heart’s content isn’t all that much… it’s usually just enough.

To help my workouts, I have made a promise to myself to be more outdoorsy. We live in the Pacific Northwest, and this is absolutely stunning country.  When I moved here, it was my intention to get more in touch with my love of nature.  I had lost touch with the land after all of those years living in New York City!  It can’t be helped!  So I figured I’d get back in touch with mother nature in the Olympics and the Cascades, no problem.  Yet, I’ve been here for two and a half years now and have only been on ONE single hike.  It’s just hard to get moving in the great outdoors when you’re a total downtown dweller with no car.

I vocalized all of this to a friend recently, and she let me know that she too needs to be more outdoorsy!  AND!  She actually has a car.

We made a date to head out to our first hike today with another girlfriend in tow!  It wasn’t a huge hike, but it was still a pretty impressive feat for our first time out.  We hiked the trail to Rattlesnake Ledge, which is 4 miles, roundtrip, and about a 1200 foot elevation gain.

Axelrod rode in his Ergo carrier, which is so perfect for longer walks.  He fared pretty well!  I had to stop in the middle of the climb to nurse him.  Once we got to the summit point, I changed him like a big brave hippie with all of these totally stunning views around us.  Then, he lay there on the rock with us, wide eyed.  He really loves being outside in the sunshine!  He gets so alert and I wonder just what he can see out there.  He always cries when I pick him up to move to our next destination.  I love that he can sit still and enjoy himself so much, and don’t take a moment of that peace for granted.

On the way down the mountain, he got a little difficult and I figured out how to nurse him in his Ergo while hiking down the mountain.  I felt very proud of myself, like the La Leche League should give me a special advanced nursing badge or something.  And now?  I guess I’m fully a PNW mom.

I did learn a few things for our next hike.  Like!?  Maybe I should have had pants and booties on the baby to keep his little legs and feet away from all of those mosquitos.  And maybe I should have brought a banana with me, because I sure wanted one.  Maybe I should have brought a little pad for him to lay on (though laying on the Ergo seemed to make him happy enough).  But we did a pretty good job, and boy am I ever tired tonight.

And, all that diet talk aside… and I totally ordered a beer when we went out for lunch after our hike.  Gosh, was it ever deeeelicious.

Burping on the trail

We three got all gussied up last weekend for a lovely wedding! It was my first real night to play dress-up since our boy was born, and I really tried to represent for all new and exhausted moms out there.

I bought a new dress, dictated outfits for Milton and Axelrod (they only rolled their eyes at me a little), and hopped up the street to the salon I work in to (finally) get my legs waxed earlier in the week. The day of the wedding, I even had my makeup done at VAIN! Thank goodness it’s only a few blocks away and my girl Belinda can work fast on under eye circles.

The bride walked down the asile to Spiritualized’s Ladies and Gentlemen We are Floating in Space and I about crumpled in a thousand romantic tears.  I even missed the perfect shot of her walking down the aisle because I was just so overwhelmed taking in the beauty of it all.  Admittedly, it doesn’t take much to set me off these days.  All anybody ever needs to make me cry is a mix of love, family, and gorgeous music … add some pretty dresses on a sublime Pacific North-West day and a couple making a life-long commitment to each other and I am done for!

We took some photos of each other holding the baby in all our sunny day finery!

My Handsome Gentlemen

Getting used to his monkey suit

Sadly, the little vintage romper that our little boy is sporting barely fit his baby flub!  I had to leave his zipper partly undone.  I’m so glad he got to wear it out once!  He’s growing out of his adorable duds way too quickly.  Between the both of us being so chubby, I don’t know how I’ll ever keep up with finding outfits that work.

I have to admit!  I made one big fat mothering mistake with our outfit planning.  I couldn’t find a dress that I liked that was good for nursing.  Milton and I figured that we could just bring a few bottles to the wedding with us.  I don’t mean to sound cold when telling you that I choose fashion over nursing, but the boy doesn’t really have a problem taking bottles from his dad in the middle of the day or in the evening when I go to the gym!  But, apparently! nothing but a boob will do for his 6-8pm bedtime witching hours.  Now we know!  I spent a good portion of the wedding reception in the bathroom with my pretty dress around my waist and my baby at my breast.

That lesson learned, I think that I’ll be going out in our neighborhood once a week this summer so that Milton can show him just how great it is to be dadded down with a bottle!

Once I momed him down, we put him straight into the Ergo on Milton and had ourselves some cake and dancing times.  We were home by 10 for a final bedtime, enjoyed by all, high on love and romance.

This Guy

Please don’t crucify me for admitting this to the public at large, but I was a little worried all through my pregnancy that I wouldn’t bond with our baby.  It’s not that I didn’t want to be a mother… getting pregnant and extending our family was something I worked pretty hard at doing for a while.  From making sure I was healthy in every possible way to making sure I was somewhat financially sound before walking down the road to parenthood- I planned everything.

The thing is, I planned everything on a suspicion.  I suspected that becoming a mother might be a good step for me as a woman.  I suspected that having a child would be a great experience for Milton and me.  But like so many other times in my life, my faith was constantly questioning.  Would I be good enough for this guy?  Would I love him enough?  Clean our house enough?  Engage with him enough?  I even wrote to Milton in the middle of my pregnancy with worries that I would leave him with the baby, trotting back east to resume my selfish city girl high life because I just couldn’t take the parental heat.

I was worried that I would be one of those women who just didn’t connect with their babies.  Maybe I worried because having a baby was never a really concrete part of my life plan.  Maybe I worried because I have a hard time keeping up with my own business, much less the business of someone else.  Maybe I worried because I was so free and easy with abusing my body and burning the party candles at both ends for so many years that I wondered if I could really, REALLY be a responsible parent.  For whatever reason, I really worried about taking the heat and giving this guy the responsibility he deserved.

Being a responsible parent, to me, means being a loving parent.  Babies beg for love.  The children, teenagers, and adults they grow into beg for love.  Parental love is the first love any of us can beg to get.  If you care for a child, you are responsible for fulfilling all of that child’s needs, especially the need for love.  I wondered if I could possibly have enough love in me to put up with the spit, the diapers, the plastic baby gear, the aching back, the sleepless nights, or the belly that would lay beside me like a sad puppy after pregnancy.  I figured, if I can adapt to these MAJOR life changes, maybe I could hack my way through the other many years of parenthood.

Today, I am happy to report that I woke up on the second morning of our child’s life, after going through the shock of childbirth and the barely remembered haze of his first 24 hours, and saw my baby’s face in the first morning’s light.  He looked like such a sweet little buddha laying there, stirring in his swaddle and newborn cap!  I felt a surge of LOVE that I couldn’t believe, referred to him as Mr. Snugglepants, and kissed him all over his beautiful face.

Since then, I’ve only gotten worse with the doting.  This guy and I are bonded, for sure.

So, I’ve been waiting and waiting for my newest nursing tanks to arrive in the mail.  I’ve been using Bravado tanks since he was born, but only ordered 2 of them.  Two tanks and one nursing bra?  Yeah.  3 options are not enough for me.  Wanna know why?

WELL!  I just got the tanks from Glamourmom in the mail this morning.  I tried them on and I like them OK, but they’re not perfect.  I can see the nipple cut out contour through the fabric and I really don’t like lines.  So I thought, I’ll think about this for just a minute.  I was torn between sending them back and ordering more Bravado tanks or just keeping them because I’ve been waiting SO long and the lines aren’t totally terrible.  I mean, I usually wear a cardigan or vest of some sort with my nursing tanks, anyhow.  I also thought I should try them out with some different breast pads to see how that looked.  So, I looked around the house for some breast pads, and then my kid started to squirm and squeak in his bouncy seat.  So I looked at my kid, and wow, he is SO SO cute.  Can you believe this cuteness?  I am just beside myself with baby joy when I look at this guy…

Joy

Anyhow, I take a look at this guy and get all fluttery inside because HE IS PERFECT AND AMAZING and I decide that he is going to sleep for a little bit longer while I find a breast pad and look at the lines in my tank top when BAM, I look down and this has happened….

I Guess I'm Keeping This Top

Milk everywhere.  Breast pads are no where to be found.  This top is going straight into the wash and staying in my wardrobe because there are no longer any other options.

And this is how nursing is going for me!  My fountain runnith over.  My faucets are constantly ON.  The tiny breasts that enjoyed so many lusty summers flying perky and free under scant, flimsy silk tops and camis have become mountains of femininity.  I can now make pornographic cleavage out of a rack that once only enjoyed a small “woopsie” when  part of the package popped cutely out of my itsy bitsy tini wini.

I have been trying and trying to go without breast pads all week because these fountains of mine are supposed to regulate by now… but, seriously, I don’t know if the fountain is ever going to stop.  I pumped yesterday after yoga because Milton feeds our dude with a bottle when I go to the gym.  My breasts were so soft when I was done that I could’ve sworn that I wouldn’t leak… but leak I did, just 5 minutes later.  And, honestly, I don’t have to look at my kid’s cuteness in order to spring a leak.   I am pretty sure that Savasana is an oxytocin inducing wonder because I run from class three times a week with two sand dollar sized circles on my tank.  I’ve even started bringing my cardigan into the yoga studio so that I can cover up as soon as the lights go on after class.

I realize that lots of woman have lots of problems with breast feeding, and I am SO thankful that my kid is feeding well enough that he seems to have doubled in size over the past 5 weeks.  But, man, as petty as it sounds, I sure wish I didn’t have to worry so darn much about wet spots in conspicuous areas.

UPDATE:   While I was finishing this entry, Axelrod woke up.  I nursed him.  I was then spit up on in rivulets half a dozen times while still wearing this same tank.  If any of you pregnant girls out there were to ask me, “How many nursing tanks should I get?”  my answer would be, “As many as you can afford, if your breasts and your kid are going to be anything like mine.”

Baby on one knee... iPad on the other.

With the exception of our nursing and napping enabler, the marvelous iPad, we’re both super sensitive to baby gear.  Most of it is junk.  I see it in the store and immediately visualize it in a landfill.  It’s pretty much all badly made molded plastic crap, and much of it requires a batteries.  Gross.  I cringe at the use of even a disposable water bottle or plastic shopping, so you can imagine how all of this other stuff makes me feel.

I tried to get around the baby gear issue by only registering for very few things and buying vintage.  The furniture I bought to house Axelrod’s little onesies and pajamas is midcentury stuff that matches all the blonde wood we have in our space, refinished a little with some fabric that will eventually translate well into his own room (someday, someday!).  Our pram is a fantastic mid-70s vintage.  We co-sleep when he’s not in the pram, and hope to totally avoid ever owning a crib.  The little books and toys we’ve gotten for him are stashed in bins on the blonde wood shelves.

The big, amazing, SUV style BOB stroller is the big item in one of our only big closets.  The ugly Graco infant seat was my one plastic concession in our living room, along with a vibrating chair that is on loan from another family.  We found that we could strap him into the car seat and rock the seat with our foot, creating a swing effect, OR put him in the vibrating chair.  They both work, depending on his mood.  I thought it’d hold out through the infant swing phase nicely.

And then he started to get fussy in ways that only a good rock would suffice.

He’s generally not a fussy guy.  He doesn’t cry unless he has a really good reason.  He cries when he’s hungry.  He fusses when his diaper needs changing.  He cries when he has gas.  The thing is, that whole gas issue?  Yeah.  That happens a LOT.  He’s always working something out, be it a man sized burp or a series of charming farts.  He grunts and pushes and cries.  I can’t blame him.  Digestion issues are the devil.  We use a little Gripe water from time to time, but this stuff certainly doesn’t put him down for a nap, hands free.

The thing about infants is that they get all worked up.  They’re happy and gorgeous and smiling, and then something will happen to tip the scales and you could be looking down a rocky road for the next few hours of family peace.  It’s not that he screams, really.  We are very fortunate to not have a baby with colic.  He just fusses.  He grunts.  He squeaks.  He squirms.  If it goes on for two long, the scales get tipped and his head gets all messy and refuses to sleep.  You’ve got to reset that baby brain with some white noise and swinging to lull him off to sleepy time, thereby lulling yourself off to some precious sleepy time.

For us, the worse time is in the morning.  It starts to happen any time from 4am to 6am and can sometimes (luckily not often) last until 2pm.  He starts to get gassy and he starts with the grunting and the squeaking.  Sometimes, this makes for parental shambles for the whole rest of the day.  A baby who nurses at midnight, 2, and 4 and then decides to be mostly awake until late morning or early afternoon makes for a parent who is trying to survive the day on only 2 hours of sleep.  Exhaustion makes everything worse.  We will start to snip at each other and argue about areas where we generally feel peaceful.  That’s not a pretty way for new parents to go!

Enter… my bratty foot stomping insistence on buying a baby swing.  I was lucky to have the backup of my mother and sister-in-law on the swing front.  They were all visiting- Milton was uncertain of this ugly plastic monstrosity, but it’s rather hard to argue in the face of so many mothers.  Our family needed a swing- it was decided.  We headed to a local baby gear consignment shop and put our fussy baby into some of the ugliest swings I’ve ever seen to test them out.  In the end, Milton and I decided to come away with the cheapest one.  His sister used the same model for her little girl, and it worked for her, that was good enough reason for us!  We bought it and brought it home.  My mother sent me to bed for a much needed nap and commanded absolute silence from my very young sisters and step-father.  She scrubbed the swing while I slept.  It now looks practically new and now doesn’t have that sweetly rancid other-people’s-baby smell that I associate with day care centers and baby consignment shops.  Phew.

Today is the first day we’re getting to test the swing.  His little head flops around a little in it, so I’ve got him supported with an adorable purple elephant that a good friend of ours knit.  I put him in that swing when he was grunting, squeaking, and badly in need of a nap… and he went down for the count.  After 10 minutes, I moved him to his pram for a proper sleep and breathed a sigh of relief.

The swing will go right back to that consignment shop in a few months.  Our living room will look worse for the wear in the meantime, but we three will get some sleep in the meantime.  We’ve learned that a sleepy baby by day means a sleepy baby by night… so I don’t doubt he’ll be lulled to many naps in this thing.

Once he grows a little more and can focus on some different things, I’ll tell you all about the ugly playcenter hand-me-down that was dubbed by it’s previous owner as the “Neglector 1000.”  We’ll use that thing (currently stashed under the couch) and pass that right along to the next baby, too.

In baby world, the fussbucket motto must be, “By Any Means”. Even if those means are plastic.

A Night of Hemingway

I was up all night last night with 45 second long contractions that started every 2.5 minutes.  It was very similar to a bit of false labor that happened last Sunday, but last Sunday’s hours of excitement and discomfort followed a cervical sweep, and this night did not.  This particular false labor followed a walk around the 3 mile path of GreenLake.

The walk was REALLY difficult, which surprised me.  Just a couple of weeks ago, I had no problem keeping up a terrific pace around the lake.  One week ago, I had no problem mounting the hills of Seattle on an hours and hours long walkabout with my husband.  This time I crept along at a snails pace.  The last mile of the lake about killed me.  Aching knees, aching feet, grumpy pants.  I could have curled up on any old patch of grass for a nap, but then I would have gotten to the car (and ultimately my bed) even later.  I can’t believe the difference one week post your due date makes!  I’ve always been in great shape, and feel a little broken.  I feel detached from my body in a way that I never have before.  I am watching my lumbering from afar.  Sometimes I wake from a nap and wouldn’t know I was pregnant… until I have to move and roll over to somehow make it up and to the bathroom for my every 10 minute trip to the toilet.  Everything is taking so much effort that I’m a little concerned about what a long labor is going to be like.  Having strong Braxton Hicks for 8 hours straight is not at all painful, but is absolutely exhausting.  Will real labor take even longer?  Will real labor be 10 times stronger… or 100?

We went in for a 41 week ultrasound today.  The baby looks great!  His cheeks are chubby like mine and we think he has his father’s eyes (which is how I always pictured him).  I felt as if I was cheating a little bit with our sneak peak, but placated myself with the knowledge that we were doing this to make sure everything was ok.

(Honestly, I knew everything was ok.  He’s totally chilling out in there.)

I’m exhausted today.  I just woke from a 4 hour nap and, having eaten a sandwich, am thinking about retiring for 4 more hours.  Maybe I’ll wake up in for real labor some day soon.  My sleeping schedule is totally screwed so I must be ready to be a newborn nursing mom, right?

We don’t have any.

Oh you guys! Honestly, we don’t need labor inducing tecniques. I get acupuncture needles all over my body, have been inserting Evening Primrose Oil for weeks, love awkward pregnant intimacy with my husband (even if I don’t want to talk about it on our blog), have had cervical sweeps, walk all the time, spend lots of time meditating, eat pineapple sprinkled with cayenne (ok mostly because that’s delicious!) and on and on and on and on and on and on. And then on. And on. Really. Truly. Madly. Deeply.

We know. We hear you! We read the books you recommended. We talked to our midwives. I get calls, texts, emails, facebook wall messages, gchats, facebook chats, and even pretty snail mail cards from everyone in our community. We love you all for that, but are feeling a little overwhelmed. And, honestly, we understand that none of it really works if the baby’s not ready.

I am trying to relax and not feel exhausted by pregnancy. I am madly looking forward to the batch of babymoon hormones I will get when our little crane decides that it’s high time he arrives. In the meantime, my best friend is going to arrive via plane tomorrow! We hadn’t been intending to have her here at the birth… but that could be awesome if it happens. Whatever comes with our imminent futures will be awesome as long as everyone remains in good health and high spirits.

Ok, it’s true.  The end of pregnancy gets weird.  I once read a tweet from a recently pregnant girl that said something along the lines of, “It’s like waiting for a houseguest who hasn’t told you exactly when he was coming, who will stay for 18 years.”  That’s true.  On top of that, there are all of these amazing hormones that a lady has to deal with.  Alternately, they have me spaced out, bone tired, become a weeping madonna, or they cause me to buzz about like a squirrel in November making last minute preparations for hibernation.  I’ve had me some manic episodes, but never combined in quite this way.  Usually, the buzzy squirrel (by far my favorite hormone-induced personality manifestation) comes after 10pm, and often stays until 2am, after which point I find myself meditating my way to sleep, which is great hypno-breathing practice.  Without a great effort towards breath meditation, there is no way I would even sleep after 2am.  We no longer sleep before 2am in this house!  We also no longer get out of bed before 11.  It’s just not possible.  This baby dictates these hours from within.

World, did you know that you can walk around with your cervix 3cms dilated, while breathing through non-progressive (and not painful) 30 second contractions that come every 2.5 minutes, for a whole day, without being in labor?  I did not!  My uterus has been doing lots of work without really bothering me too much.  Hopefully this means that when showtime comes along, I will need to work a little less.  I don’t really know.  The whole birthing process is still such a great mystery to me, even after reading all 50 of the books on our shelves and having a somewhat solid base understanding of the science that goes on behind the madness.

I am on my way to get some acupuncture at my midwifery office.  We are hoping to nudge this little crane down a bit.  He doesn’t seem to understand yet that, while it’s great that he’s comfortable, a bit more pressure on my cervix will bring him to his second home- The Outside World- where we spend a lot of time laughing, dancing, and cuddling.  Milton keeps telling my belly, “You can come out now.  There are warm blankets here!”

This video touched me to tears this morning. I found it on the Offbeat Mama blog, along with Offbeat Mama Ariel’s story.

We got only a small taste of infertility when trying to make our little crane. Making this baby led me down the road to a heart-breaking miscarriage and 9 months of treating my body and our sex life like my own personal science experiment. Ultimately, we were very lucky. We did get our little crane to plant himself naturally. But the what ifs that I got a taste of during that year of trying were quite a life lesson.

Let’s hear it for all of those women out there re-defining motherhood, shall we? Let’s hear it for modern science, infertility research, and a healthy dose of awareness. Let’s hear it for all of you folk out there who are NOT pressuring lady friends by constantly asking if they are pregnant. You never know if that woman is letting the What If’s plague her. You never know how many different mothers rest in the hearts of different women. We don’t all have to give birth to realize that goddess within.

I had the hardest time sleeping last night because of a relentless windstorm… and a bit of a storm in my mind that I’ll keep to myself as far as this blog is concerned.

I woke up today at noon, after a few hours of rest, and am still exhausted. I’m so low energy today that I’m boring myself. Finally just drug myself to the mirror to put on some lipstick a minute ago, and am looking forward to a walk with my husband, and then a movie with friends.

I just thought to myself, “If I’m really right about having this baby right around my due date, I’m going to be a full on mom by this time next week, for certain.”

That’s just crazy. And awesome. And hilarious!

boredpants. waiting and anticipating.

Reposted in part from a friend in New York due to give birth at home next week:

Basically, in new york state midwives need to have a written practice agreement (WPA) with a institution or a physician. most of the homebirth midwives here had a practice agreement with st. vincent’s, which was essentially the best/most progressive hospital to birth in in new york city. unfortunately it was in a lot of debt and earlier this month it was decided that it would shut down. so as of friday all the homebirth midwives are without a WPA. which means all the homebirth midwives are kind of screwed and have been scrambling to figure out what to do. apparently there is legislation in the senate already to remove the WPA requirement and the only real thing to be done in the meantime is to have a “health emergency” be declared by the governor so that the midwives can continue practicing until either the legislation goes through or they find someone to sign a WPA. of course, the department of health is saying this is not an emergency because all we homebirthing women can and should just give birth in hospitals anyway.

This is really horrible up news, people. Pregnant women in NY will be denied a right to choose their births if something isn’t done very quickly. Hundreds of women are right now planning home births in New York, and have worked for months to provide their families with the comfort and medical assistance they need. Also, there will be several midwives completely out of work for an undisclosed amount of time, forced to send their patients to OB (surgeon!) strangers for labor and delivery!

Please call Wendy Saunders, Executive Deputy Commissioner for the NY State Department of Health, appointed by Governor Paterson. The goal is to flood them with calls tomorrow. the governor’s office number is 518-474-8390. Leave a message with her staff explaining that with the closing of Saint Vincent Hospital in NYC, there are hundreds of families now stranded and it is your understanding that the governor is the only one with the authority to declare a Health Emergency and to issue an Emergency Executive Order waiving the provision of the law that requires midwives to have a written practice agreement.

Please pass this message on to anyone from NY state that you know and encourage them to call!!!

I’ve finished working!  Which of course brought about a round of emotions last night at dinner.  I can’t recall the last time I straight up didn’t work for 4+ months.  I must have been about 10 years old.  As soon as I finished my last client yesterday, I felt a wave of “What in the heck am I supposed to do now?”

Of course, I have a long list of things I need to get done before the baby comes.  After the baby comes, that list dissolves into all the things that are completely imminent!  Breast feeding.  Burping.  Swaddling.  Rocking.  Catching whatever sleep I can.  Rinsing and repeating until something changes in the overall baby scheme and I have to reformulate my parenting style completely.  Intellectually, I am aware of all of this.  I’ve read about 100 books and talked to at least 100 moms.  I’ve got all the stories, all the supplies, and all the information.  Of course, I have no real knowledge of what having a newborn will actually BE like, because I have never had a newborn.  I’m looking forward to experiencing something altogether new, but am of course a little apprehensive about being the best possible parent I can be.

My mother suggested recently in a facebook comment that it’s ok to be scared.  I immediately felt defensive!  Defensive is my go-to emotion whenever anyone suggests that I am, in any way, vulnerable.  Goodness forbid I should appear to be vulnerable!  Luckily, I am able to afford being self-aware, and was thus able to step back from my defensive stance and investigate.  Am I scared?  I don’t really think I am.  I don’t think that’s why I’m crying here and there, all overwhelmed with emotion.  Frankly, I think I’m crying here and there because my hormones are peaking with impending babyhood…. but that’s not to say that the emotions that are coupled with the hormones are anything but totally viable.  I am emotional because my time alone with my husband as my only immediate family (side note: my parents and siblings are technically immediate… but live 3k miles away.  This is less… immediate.  Obviously).  I am emotional because I have no idea what the life ahead of us will be like.  On a lesser scale, I am emotional because I missed the Wedding Present perform Bizzaro at The Crocodile the other night (alas, I am too pregnant for shows right now) and because I can no longer just skip out into the city to catch shows or grab drinks at bars.  I am emotional because I might never have visible abs again.  Everything is changing!  When you can afford to be self-aware, you can’t help but well-up a little with emotion.

I’ve said it before, many times.  Pregnancy is  a long time.  A whole lot happens in 40 weeks!  There is a whole process that we have gone through as a family to prepare us for the next step.  I’m not feeling emotional because I haven’t prepared myself for life on baby island.  I’m 34 years old and filled with all the love and capability that is necessary.  Arguably, I am a fantastic candidate for a mothering job.  I’ve worked out all my kinks, gotten jollies in my career, let the ants in my pants make me break dance, lived in several desirable cities, and generally ensured that I’m not going to freak out and wonder if there was something I didn’t DO before building a house on baby island.  I’ve got a solid loving relationship with a partner who is a fantastic candidate for a fathering job.  I’m also seasoned enough to know that I’ll DO plenty more as my child grows and my family progresses.  I’m ready.  But until the time comes and the whole transformation occurs- I am over here feeling grateful, reflective, and emotional.

I’ve never had food poisoning, rarely had heartburn, and acid reflux was only a problem when I occasionally went so BOLD on my spicy foods that even the heartiest belly would object.  Granted, I’m lactose intolerant, soy sensitive, and can’t really digest much red meat… but it’s not like I’m shoving these things into my system.  I can’t wait for this little man to drop down a little and give my stomach some room to digest.

2)  In other news, I started taking these herbs last week.  My midwife said, “I’m not going to say they work, I’m not going to say they don’t work.  Some people like them and swear by them.  You can try them if you want.”  I did some research online, found some reviews, and the reviews basically echoed everything the midwife said.  I decided to order them because I am petrified of carrying 2 weeks or more past my due date.

As directed on the package of pills, I upped my dosage of the herbs on Saturday.  I am having LOTS and LOTS of contractions.  I don’t mind them at all!  They usually don’t bother me a whole lot.  In fact, they make me happy.  I feel as if my body is practicing for this labor.  When my belly contracts, I instantly leap into breathing and meditation exercises, which help so much.  Even Milton is getting so used to the contractions that he rolls over in his sleep and starts to practice touch relaxation exercises with me.  If he can do it in his sleep, people, imagine what a magical birth partner he’s going to be when the real deal comes along!

Anyhow, I left the pills at work yesterday and haven’t taken any in about 20 hours.  Thus, the contractions have slowed down quite a bit.  I’m still not sold on these supplements being a great thing or a not so great thing, all told.  I don’t want to have this baby early (no Aries men in my house, please- no offense meant to Aries men), don’t want to have this baby late, just want to have this baby on or around his due date.  It’s just that my mother carried so so late with both of her children… and my torso is so roomy… I can totally imagine kiddo hanging out, taking his sweet time, and going so far overdue that it’s too late for my highly anticipated home birth.  What to do?

3)  We hired a lovely cleaning woman!!!!!!!!!  This is an idea I have been flirting with ever since I started working a whole lot after moving to Seattle, but I kept putting it off and putting it off because, frankly, I didn’t want to spend money on something I figured I could do myself.  The fact is, yucky floors make me feel so sensitive, and I’m always convinced that no one sees the grime in the bathroom as well as I do.  Here I was, all sensitive, starting to resent the grime.  The more pregnant I got, the more I couldn’t reach grime without grunting, resenting, and working myself all up into a blood pressured tizzy.  Who has energy enough for grunting, resenting and pregnancy?  Gross.  Finally, we called a cleaning woman and she did SUCH an amazing job that I nearly cried when I came home from work yesterday.  So so worth it!  I imagine that this will be such an amazing help when the baby comes.  We don’t have any family here to help us out in Seattle, and will both be so busy figuring out how to take care of our new family member.  Thank goodness we can afford the ease of this wonderful woman coming over to take the pressure of cleaning off our backs!  It is definitely a luxury that I am now happy to pay for.

Here is a photo of myself earlier this week that is somewhat unpleasant for me to post, but par for the course, I suppose:

Hugeness