Updates abound

Ok, so, we have Anne's naps, fun with yarn, and my nipples. Where to start, where to start...

Yesterday, I got Anne to nap in her crib for about 20 minutes. This was definitely a highlight. She loves to kick around watching her mobile in there while she's awake and I need my hands free for a short time. But sleep in there? Pshaw! Never. She still sleeps at night in our room in her bassinette, and I plan to keep her in there until she's about 4 months. We've got a good nighttime routine going; she goes to bed between 7 and 8 pm, and we're loving it. (She gets up on a usual night 2 times between then and 6 am. So, she's doing very well). I get to knit at night, read, and chat with Mike. I don't want to mess with the routine until we absolutely have to, when she's older and more over her gas issues, since the bassinette is inclined while the crib is, of course, flat. Plus, while she's still getting up twice a night, it's wonderful to have her right next to me. I don't even have to get out of bed to nurse and burb her. How I dread making the cold walk down the hall to the nursery once she sleeps in her own room.

So, today, I pushed the issue again. At first, she was very resistant, as always. She'll doze off in my arms, but the instant her butt hits the crib mattress, she's not only awake, but screaming. Finally, I realized the problem. She keeps startling herself. You would think this would have been obvious to me much earlier, since all babies have this startle reflex. You would think. But with 2 small children, my brain is operating at *maybe* 40% capacity at all times. And that's when my thought process is uninterrupted. When Henry is around, I'm down to about 25%.

Anyway, it's the summer, and there's no a/c in her bedroom, so on some days it's too warm to swaddle her in the middle of the day, but today it's pretty nice. So I swaddled her. She's been up there napping for over an hour.

*angels sing*

I really want her to get used to that being a "sleep place," so that hopefully the autumn transition to the crib all the time isn't so painful. For all of us.

So that's that. What's next? Oh yes, yarn! Well, I felted for the first time yesterday. I will devote a whole post to this in the next few days, complete with pictures. I'm waiting for my creation to dry right now, and need to put the finishing touches on today. Keep your eye out for that one. :) But also, my ball winder came yesterday, and Mike and I tested it out last night.

Oh, such bliss! I got my hank of merino wool/silk and placed it over Mike's outstretched hands. The ball winder itself is very easy to put together and use, I highly recommend it. Knitpicks. They're wonderful. It was tremendously fun, although I had the funner job, no doubt about it. Mike had to go through some contortions to keep the yarn moving and eventually had to take a break due to shoulder soreness. :) And towards the end, things fell apart a bit. Well, Anne woke up, that didn't help. I went upstairs and picked her up, and she burbed and spit up all over me. By time I got back down, Mike had developed a knot. It was towards the end of the hank, and he suggested we just cut it off, which I didn't even consider. This is silk; we're untangling the knot.

It only took a few minutes, and voila! I had a beautiful center-pull ball of yarn. I've started my scarf, and I'm perfectly thrilled with it. But I think I'm asking for a real swift for Christmas. :)

And then of course, my breastfeeding woes. I know you were just waiting to hear more personal details about my nipples. At Cam's suggestion (thanks Cam!) I checked out nipple shields. I had heard of them, but didn't really know much about them. They're thin silicone-ish shields that you place over your nipple while the baby nurses. This way, your nipple doesn't take as much abuse and can heal, but the baby is still getting milk. I went to Target yesterday with Henry (while Mike gave Anne a bottle of pumped milk, giving my breasts a break) and found a nipple shield for $7.50. I snapped it up. The only quandry was the size indicators on the package; are my nipples small or medium sized? I had never thought about it before. That decision made, I brought it home and tried it out.

Anne, of course, was pretty skeptical at first. She didn't seem to be a fan, but once she latched on it was fine. And what sweet relief! No contemplation of a shot of whiskey prior to latch-on. It was getting bad there on my right breast. I'm hoping that with a few days of use, my nipples will heal and I won't have to use it anymore. We'll see.

So, that's the latest in my world. I go back to work in about 2 and a half weeks, and needless to say, this is causing a lot of mixed emotions within me. I'll post about that more at length coming up here. I miss my work friends, especially my knitting girls, and I'll be so glad to see them again, but it's tearing me up to leave Mike and the kids at home. I'm happy to know that Anne will be home with Mike the majority of the time. She'll only be in daycare 2 days a week. And if Mike doesn't find a full-time job soon, she'll be home with him 5 days a week. We'll see. I'm feeling a tad anxious about everything, but not nearly as bad as I would have expected out of the level of Type A personality that I have. I know that God has a plan for us, and that something will work out. Somehow.

NEWSFLASH

ANNE IS NAPPING IN HER CRIB. THIS IS BIG, PEOPLE.

Our previous crib-nap record was 3 minutes. We're now at 13 minutes and counting. I couldn't be more thrilled.

Now back to your regularly scheduled activities...

This post will have the word "breast" in it a lot...

So consider yourself warned. :)

Anne will be 11 weeks old tomorrow (!) and after a rough go at the outset, breastfeeding (and pumping) went along swimmingly for the past little while. All of a sudden, though, I remember why breastfeeding can be a challenge even for experienced nursing moms.

NIPPLES. I suppose I should have put a warning about that word too, in the title. Henry, though a poor sleeper and an extremely fussy baby, was a champion nurser. He did it well right from the outset, and I never had a problem aside from a clogged milk duct issue that persisted when I went back to work and my supply changed due to all the pumping. All this through about 15 months. I never even thought about formula. And I would have happily continued nursing longer if he had wanted to, but he weaned right around 15 months.

And then there's Anne. I call her my little barracuda. She's a much more demanding nurser, and my nipples are taking a beating. I noticed a few days ago that I was starting to dread nursing her on my right breast, and would brace myself whenever she latched on. I don't think we have thrush. I don't see any white patches in her mouth. I think I've just gotten lazy with her latch, and my nipples developed a soreness. I've been applying Lansinoh Lanolin religiously, and hoping that it gets better.

Right now, I'm looking to 6 months. I think that's a good and realistic goal. If we make it there, then I'll look to the year mark. I know that around 6 months, nursing gets infinitely easier with the introduction of solids, so if I make it that far, I'm pretty sure I'll make it to the full year again. But baby steps. I'm not putting pressure on myself this time.

I'm just thinking of my poor right nipple. There was some...BLOOD today. *cries* I'm very squeamish. Seeing my own blood makes me woozy, and all this despite two births. I just can't slough that off.

Anyway, if you have any advice aside from watching her latch and using the lanolin, let me know. I'm hoping we can move past this within the next few days.

In other nursing news, my Udder Cover continues to please. I used it in the middle of the mall the other day, the true test. Reading my last issue of Fit Pregnancy over breakfast the other morning, I saw an ad for a competing product called a "Hooter Hider." Now, doesn't that just seem unnecessary? They couldn't come up with a more couth name? When I showed it to Mike, he made a few comments about other potential irreverant name combinations, one in which both words started with a "B" and another more vulgar one in which the name starts with "T's." It was pretty funny, actually.

Onward, nursing soldiers...

Anne's 8 week checkup...

Today was Anne's 8 week well pediatrician visit, and with Hank at Vacation Bible School and Mike teaching, I took her myself. I was apprehensive, since these would be her first vaccinations. :(

When we arrived, she was weighed and measured. Little chunker weighs in at 12 lbs 7 ozs, and has grown 2.5 inches since birth! She's in the 90% for both height and weight. I don't know what it is, but I grow GIANT children. The doctor checked her over, said she looked great, and I asked about her spit up issue. Since she's gaining weight so fabulously, they're not worried about reflux. She just spits up more than the average baby. Alas.

Then came the dreaded moment. I hate it the most when they're this little, because they have no idea that it's coming. I held her tight, and when the first shot went in, there was this little shocked silence. I thought maybe the "delayed scream" would come into play, where their mouths open with no sound for a full 10 seconds while they gather steam to let loose THE BIG ONE. But not Anne. Within 1 second, she unleashed the ear splitting WAIL OF HORROR and began kicking her legs so hard that the nurse had a hard time finishing the rest of the shots. :)

But the instant the nurse finished and I picked her up, she was fine. I held her for awhile before buckling her back into her car seat, which she hates. Poor babe.

Now she's crying in her swing, so I must run. It's a lovely day today, so we're bound for a walk. :)

Anne at 7 weeks old

My precious Anne is nearly 8 weeks old, and I haven't posted any new pictures in a while, so I thought I'd oblige. :) She's extremely cute, and really getting big. She smiles a lot now, and tracks things with her eyes. She's also sleeping better overall (even the bad nights these days are better than when she was first born) and really showing signs of some early maturity. It's all very exciting.

I was at dance class on Friday night, and remembering how long I danced with her in my belly! Gosh, it feels so much better now. :) But still, I loved dancing while pregnant. I think it's a wonderful testament to the feminine form.

At any rate, she's here beside me, and fussing, so I'd better run. It's hot here today, boo. So we're gearing up to keep cool this afternoon. With no central a/c, the days where it gets into the very high 80's around here, with high humidity, are very uncomfortable. We don't even have any window units in our downstairs. The way our house is laid out, it's too open for a window unit to successfully cool anything. We have them in our bedrooms, and Mike calls it our "oasis" since on days like these we'll go up there at like 7 pm to chat and watch tv in the coolness. We're also having our very first "date night" since Anne was born, and going out to dinner with another couple while my in-laws watch the kids. Adult conversation - it's a novelty these days. :) We're both excited.

Talk to you tomorrow!

If the baby is sleeping...

When you're the parent of a baby or toddler, sleep is paramount. You need it, yet these small creatures that you love seem determined to wrest it from you. I seem to remember someone telling me once that in a national survey of women, more than *anything*, such as romance, a money tree, yachts, expensive and extravagant vacations, world domination...the thing women wanted the most, more than anything else, was more sleep.

And when the baby is actually sleeping, you will do anything to keep them in that state. At night, there's not much you can do except swaddle them, nurse them, comfort them, and pray. But during the day, I try my darndest to, well, control the behavior of those around me. Numerous things thwart me in this endeavor.

Offender #1 = my son. I think this is a universal kid characteristic: lack of understanding of personal space.

"Honey, don't touch the baby when she's sleeping!"

"Honey, don't be right in her face!"

"Honey, the baby is sleeping, don't blow on her!"

Offender #2 = all people who ring my doorbell when the baby is napping.

If Anne is napping, NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO BREATHE. Let alone RING MY DOORBELL. Yes, that means you, Mr. UPS Guy. Friendly neighbor, perhaps. All of you must secretly hate me.

Although, I plead guilty. When the baby is napping, I'm probably not sleeping. I'm likely to be frantically doing laundry, showering, mopping the kitchen floor, or trying to get in a few decadent minutes of knitting. But I need to do those things too. :)

At any rate, we do what we can. We're still at that newborn point where Anne would rather die than nap in her bassinette or crib. Heaven forbid. It's like she has a radar if you set her down in there during the day. Thus, she naps in her swing, bouncy seat, or in our arms. Hence, being more susceptible to the offences mentioned above.

Alas.

4th of July weekend in the Catholic Librarian's world...

Even when not working outside the home, holiday weekends just feel different to me. Friday started out with my first belly dance class since I delivered Anne, and it felt wonderful. A tad rusty, but everything came right back. We're going to be starting a new choreography, and I'm plotting a new solo. It's super fun.

The rest of the weekend was good, albeit accompanied by the expected foibles of having 2 small children:

*vacuum cleaner roars, directed by Mike* *Catholic Librarian fends off Henry to grab a few blissful minutes of knitting as baby sits in her swing* Anne loves the vacuum cleaner. Apparently it reminds her of being in the womb. It always soothes her.

*vacuum cleaner stops*

*baby wails*

"Mommy, Daddy! I put some poo in the toilet!"

All glamour over here. Speaking of "down the toilet," that pretty much sums up our past two nights. I told you, right? Every 2 hours the past several nights. I rather expected it. Anne is going through the 6 week growth spurt. We weighed her yesterday, and she's just shy of 12 pounds. (!) She gained over a pound in a single week.

Yesterday evening was a nightmare as well. Nearly 2 full hours of inconsolable sobbing. I couldn't even nurse her. She's latch on, flail about, pop off, sob, and then repeat that process ad nauseum. Just a common evening with a 6 week old, unfortunately. Alas. This too shall pass.

Sunday, my mom and I took Henry to see the new Cars movie. I think I can sum it up by saying that it's not nearly as good as the original. I actually found it hard to follow. I thought it was just me, when my mom leaned over and whispered,

"Isn't this kind of hard for little kids to understand?"

I was busy resisting the intense urge to pee given the sheer volume of my "small" drink, and readily agreed. The "small" being small only if you consider a tanker truck small.

Anyway, we did have a good time, even if not totally in love with the movie.

And...there's my baby, sobbing again. :) Off I go. I hope everyone had a great Independence Day weekend!

Postpartum belly dancing :-)

Today is a day that I've been looking forward to for some time - my return to dance class. :) I'm positively thrilled. I had my 6 week postpartum visit to the ob/gyn yesterday, and everything is all healed, so I'm cleared for all of my regular pre-baby activity. I'm within 3 pounds of my pre-pregnancy weight; I was hoping to have lost it all by now, but alas. Breastfeeding seems to hold on to a few pounds, no matter what, until you wean.

But I can't wait for class tonight. I've been pumping my little heart out, and have plenty of fresh milk in the refrigerator for Mike to use tonight plus a budding freezer stash. So, Anne will be fine, and I've been longing for this "me time" for awhile now. Dance is just such a creative and social outlet for me.

I've also been working on that pair of socks, my other creative outlet. :) The first sock is done, and I just turned the heel on the other one. It's going very well. The gusset vexes me a bit, but otherwise, it's cake. Well, except for that kitchener stitch thing on the toes. It doesn't look as "seamless" as I'd like, but I'm getting there. Practice makes perfect. :)

A sleeping breakthrough?! And library story hour...

I'm kind of afraid to say anything, because it seems like bad karma or something. Even though I don't believe in karma. But the past two nights, Anne has slept for 5.5-6 hours at the beginning of the night. I actually feel *rested*. That's like a miracle right there, people. She's 6 weeks now, and this is the week that allegedly babies start producing melatonin and are able to sleep longer stretches, so could it be?! I'm sure now that I've written this, she'll be up every hour and a half for the next 2 years. Just you wait and see.

At any rate, I'm grateful. Although, when she wakes, she eats so heartily that she gives herself gas and is then up for an hour. But at that point, it's about 4-4:30 am or so, and I've had a decent stretch of sleep (shows how much you lower your sleep standards as a parent when 4-5 hours of continuous sleep is labelled as "decent") and don't mind bouncing her around and burping her for a bit. It's going good.

In Henry news, today was our first public library children's story hour. It is targeted at 3-6 year olds, so I knew he was at the upper end of the age range. I was hoping that he'd like it, since it's free and something for him to do each week.

Well, the first challenge was getting out of the house this morning. I've had both kids by myself a number of times now, and I'm definitely getting used to it. Notice that I didn't say that I was getting *good* at it, but I'm getting used to it. Mike was teaching, so I showered while Anne napped in the swing (I try for the crib everyday, but so far, that has been an epic failure) and Hank watched tv. I had to dry off, put some makeup on, and pull my hair into a clip. I managed all that before Anne started to wail. I nursed her while watching Dora with Hank. Anne allowed me to put her under her mobile in her crib so that I could throw a load of clothes in the washer.

Then I realized that it was 10:15 (story hour begins at 10:30) and I panicked. I had to lug the stroller out to my car, and given that it's nearly as large as I am, that's no easy feat. I got the diaper bag ready, and in a fit of ambition, also packed my knitting bag in case Anne slept the whole time. I brushed a reluctant Hank's teeth and tore him away from the tv. I strapped Anne into her car seat ("WAH WAH") and got her and everything else out to the car. I felt like Super Woman. Then I saw that it was already 10:26. Oh well. I do my best.

We arrive, and although Anne had fallen asleep in the car, she woke up immediately upon the cessation of movement and began to sob. I had to lug the stroller out of the trunk, get her snapped in, get our bags, and hustle Henry along. We arrived just a few minutes late.

Already, Henry seemed less than enthusiastic. Most of the kids were younger than him, but he gamely went to sit on the rug. I had to walk Anne around outside a bit to get her to fall asleep. Blessedly, she did.

I was able to sneak in and sit down with Anne beside me in the stroller sleeping. Immediately, I could sense Hank's boredom. The age level was definitely below where he's at. But he's well trained enough to not express dissatisfaction until after we're out in the car. I knit a sock quietly while thinking how grateful I am that I'm not a children's librarian. I do like children, but I have a hard time being around a large crowd of them all at the same time. :) That's definitely not my calling in life.

Once the kids were done making their story-related craft, we headed out to the car. When I asked Hank what he thought, he said:

"I didn't care for it, Mommy."

I was very impressed with his articulation. So, alas. I don't think we'll be going back to the library story hour. Frankly, it exhausted me, so maybe that's not a bad thing. His swimming lesson went great, and Mike can take him to those while I stay home with Anne, so it's a lot easier. Plus, he has Vacation Bible School in July. We've been keeping him entertained pretty well. The summer is actually flying by.

I go back to work in 7.5 weeks. :( I can't believe it. And my 6 week postpartum visit with my ob/gyn is today. Holy smokes. Where did the time go?

6 week growth spurt

Anne has been just a little cling-on these past few days, and I suspect she's beginning the 6 week growth spurt. She hasn't wanted to be anywhere but in someone's arms, so it's tough to get anything done. But I persevere. We had a long night last night too (see post below, infra), with her up every 2 hours.

Henry has been good, but it's a handful having both of them. He's been playing well independently in his bedroom with his Transformers. Often heard from the vicinity of his room:

"*I* am OPTIMUS PRIME!"

BUT, I did go to Target yesterday with both of them BY MYSELF. *gold star* It went pretty well, actually. Toting children reduces your efficiency in doing errands, and the thing is, it doesn't merely double your time investment. You're operating at something like 20% capacity. Alas.

I hear a crying baby. My 5 minutes is up. Sigh. Off I go!

Summer at the home of the Catholic Librarian

Well, things are in full summer 2011 swing around here. Henry finished school last Tuesday, and Mike began teaching a summer section of Introduction to Philosophy at a local Catholic college, so I'm home with both children for about 3 hours every day. I know all the stay at home moms are snickering at me, and rightly so, since they are on duty by themselves so much more than that, but for me, this is a big change from my regular routine. Happily, the adjustment has been going well.

It's challenging to keep Henry occupied, but so far, so good. We've had a lot going on with my grandfather's passing, lots of family in town, so the visiting helped. We have him signed up for swimming lessons that begin tomorrow. Just a half hour per week for 6 weeks. He expressed an interest in swimming at his new Catholic school next year, and so I thought he's enjoy some formal lessons so he didn't have to rely on an inflated device anymore. He's also going to be doing T-Ball for 45 minutes a week for 6 weeks. Mike is going to field this one, he thought it would be a good introduction for him. I want him to find one thing that he likes, and then we can pursue that more formally for him. We figured this summer was a good time to experiment. I'm going to take him to the public library's story hour for an hour a week (well, Anne and I will) and he has Vacation Bible School in July. All should be well.

Miss Anne is going to be 6 weeks old on Wednesday, and I can hardly believe it. She's starting to smile at us, and she's getting SO much bigger! She's very precious.

Our nights have actually gotten a smidge better. For a number of different reasons, the nights are not slowly sucking the very life out of me like they did the first time around. Anne is starting to go a long stretch of 4 (occasionally 5) hours at a time, and she sleeps very well in her bedside bassinette, meaning that I'm very comfortable between her wakings. I'm still up several times per night, and the evenings are still a big fuss-fest, but all in all, it's going very well.

When she does wake, and I'm startled out of a deep sleep, I always think of the other parents of tiny babies that are going through the same thing as me. I'm sure that for them, the following is also true:

Let's play a game of "A or B?" It's 2 am. You are in dreamland, asleep since your head hit the pillow from sheer exhaustion. Shaken from your dream, you hear something in your bedroom:

(1) A squeaking sound. Is it, (A) your baby, about to work her way up to a full out wail? or (B) a family of refugee mice?

How bad is it that I would much prefer the sound to be (B)? I don't think it's that bad. I know that many parents would agree with me, I see you out there. Just admit it.

(2) A "liquid sound." Is it, (A) your baby, erupting a geyser of spit up? or (B) a babbling brook suddenly running through your bedroom?

The answer is clear in this instance. (B), hands down.

(3) A cranking sound. "Is it (A) your baby, about to make her hungry anger known, or (B) a homicidal maniac in your bedroom revving up a chainsaw?

All right, in this case, I'll go with (A).

The point being that no matter what, night wakings are hard on the parents of young children. If they outgrew it at one week, well, then I think we can all agree that it would be no trouble. But weeks and months of nights without an uninterrupted night of sleep? It's tough stuff. And a side note: anybody that tells you that their baby slept through the night the day they came home from the hospital? Judge that person. God will smite them somehow, for sure.

But I am grateful that I'm faring the nights better this time. It's the little things, you know?

Routine? What routine?

My grandfather passed away peacefully yesterday at 11 am. He was a wonderful, wonderful man, and I hope that he continues to pray for me in heaven just as he did here on earth.

As you can imagine, things have been chaotic this past week with family coming to town and lots of visiting. I'm so grateful that I'm off from work right now, because I am more available to help my mom and was able to visit the Hospice at my whim. The caveat being that I always have a newborn in tow, but still, I'm glad for this current flexibility.

When I first started my leave, I made up this ambitious schedule for myself. I liked my work routine, and didn't want to allow myself to wallow in postpartum depression without a regular routine as solace like I did after I delivered Henry. I figured I could be all anally organized and have different tasks for each day of the week. One day I could do laundry, another I could alternate mopping the kitchen floor and the side hallway, another I could weed the garden, another I could do general cleanup house maintenance, and the last weekday I could reserve for whatever came up and needed my attention and possibly grocery shop. Mike cleans the bathrooms, vacuums and dusts (yes, I know how lucky I am).

Well. HA! For one thing, a single laundry day. *gauffaw* We do laundry 5 to 6 days a week. We could start a rating system for Anne's spit up events. "That one had some air under it, much higher degree of difficulty. And I think it traveled a full 5 inches before making contact with the couch." Sometimes, each of us needs 2 full outfit changes in a day, and that doesn't include Anne, who has many, many more.

And the floors? Oh good Lord. I'm ashamed to admit that since the week after Anne was born, I haven't gone near the floor with a mop. I've swept, and we keep up with the vacuuming of the rugs, but the mopping gets sadly neglected.

And weeding? In Tiffany versus The Weeds: Weeds 10, Tiffany 0.

I do keep the house picked up, I can't help it, that's something that I obsess over. And we squeeze the grocery shopping in where we can. That's the extent of my housework. The rest of the time, I'm nursing Anne or otherwise doing Anne-maintenance. And to add to the fray, yesterday was Henry's last day of school. So I now have him in tow, too. Much, much fun being had over at the house of the Catholic Librarian. :)

Update, and hanging in there

Sorry I didn't get to post yesterday. It's been just a blur, things have been so crazy. It feels like I barely sit down these days except to nurse the baby. Which is a blessing (my poor, poor nipples excepted) since it lets me sit down. :)

Anyway, my grandfather is in a Hospice facility and is still hanging on, but the doctors tell us it won't be long. We've all been up to see him several times, and he's had someone with him 24/7. It's all very sad, but he has led a long, wonderful life and he knows how much we all love, adore, and appreciate him. It's going to be tough this week, especially for my mom who I know is taking this loss very hard, but we'll get through. My grandmother is a tough lady, and I know she'll be ok too. She has a strong Christian faith, and I know that that will be a great solace to her in the coming months.

On the homefront, we've been hanging in there. I've been schlepping Anne to the Hospice, since Mike has started teaching a summer class. Newborns are very portable, which is nice, since they sleep a lot of the day, but they're also very unpredictably fussy, which isn't so good in this type of situation (WAH WAH WAH reverberating through the otherwise serene hallways). Our nights have reached a comfortable rhythm. Anne is actually starting to show signs of going a longer 4+ hour stretch at night, which I'm praising God for this very minute. Unfortunately, her gastrointestinal issues persist (poor babe) and so this keeps us all up quite a bit of the night once she does wake. But honestly, it's not that bad, and I've gotten quite used to it. As we approach week 5, I feel much more like myself, just with a new baby in the mix. It's a very good feeling.

I know lots of new things now. I'm reading Anne's cues a lot better, as in when her cries mean she's hungry versus tired versus wet/dirty. As well, I know what time the birds wake up. Do you know this? The answer is 4 am. I know this, because I'm always awake then too. :) That seems to be Anne's current morning witching hour. Everything goes to pieces at 4 am. But it's ok.

That's the update for now. I'm very grateful for your prayers, and to this blog for providing me with a wonderful network of Catholics and friends. I appreciate you all so, so much.

Baby steps, and pumping for success

The other day, I achieved a milestone: I did errands alone with Anne. Now, if we had added Henry to the mix, I think I would have deserved a medal, but I'll settle for this victory right now.

I got her into her car seat, lugged the stroller out into the trunk (no small feat, the thing is nearly as big as I am) and out we set for *3* different stores. Babies R Us, the Salvation Army, and the lactation store.

Upon arriving at the Salvation Army, I wrestled the stroller out of the trunk, got Anne snapped in, and wheeled into the building. In a move that impressed me greatly, I found a flowy thing that I can use as my belly dance costume cover-up for $2.99. Score. I made the naive mistake of continuing to browse after finding my prey, and Anne promptly proceeded to wail. I quickly made my way to the register, and in my fluster, nearly forgot my bag of purchases as I tried to squeeze the stroller containing the wailing baby out of the door, but I persevered. I was sweating a bit as I snapped Anne back into her car seat (glamorous) and hauled the stroller back into the trunk, but I made it out alive.

Then I went to Babies R Us, which is cake with a baby, since everyone there is either hugely pregnant and uncomfortable enough to not really notice your screaming baby, or toting their own screaming baby or melting down toddler. Kindred spirits. I needed a few nursing supplies and some bibs for Anne. I have never seen a baby spit up with the degree of intensity and difficulty that Anne achieves. We are never without a flotilla of soon-to-be-saturated burb rags in every room in the house. But I digress. I fetched the stuff and headed out on my way without a single wail.

My final stop was the lactation store, where I was in search of a hands-free pumping device. I'd been dreading the dusting off of my breast pump, since pumping is, well, a bit of a pain in the ass. But I have an awesome pump, a Medela Pump in Style Original, which I acquired while nursing Henry. I took it out for a test run the day before, and the thing still runs like a champ. It's the Honda of breast pumps. But I have no hands-free device, and this time, I knew that I needed one. It's no fun sitting there for 10-15 minutes while balancing those ridiculous looking cones in one hand and trying to turn the pages of your book with the other. Upon arrival, I hauled Anne's car seat tote out and dragged her in. The lactation lady immediatly knew what I was talking about and whipped out this bustier thing that you stick the breast horns into and voila! Hands-free pumping. Unfortunately, such bliss costs $40, but it was totally worth it. I can email and read now while pumping.

I got back home, all aglow. I haven't had to wrangle a newborn in many years, and I feared that I'd lost my touch. Xanadu.

Dishcloth afterglow

I woke up this morning tired, but happy. :) We had a hard time getting Anne down for bed last night, but after that, we actually had a good night. She was only up twice to nurse, although she woke me several other times with some cranking. At the end of the summer/beginning of fall, we plan to move her to her own room, which will be like a dream. :) She's a very noisy sleeper, so that will a good thing.

But she's adorable, and I love her. She's alert a bit more now, which I love, and she'll be 4 weeks old tomorrow! She weighs in at a whopping 10.1 pounds!! As Mike always asks me, "what the heck is in your breast milk?!" Apparently super powered baby growth hormone.

Mike: "What's that smell? Oh right. Vomit."

That's pretty much our life theme right now, but we're navigating it rather well. :)

In other news, I got to work on my dishclohs yesterday, and they're going awesome. I found that I can crochet AND nurse the baby (as long as I use the Boppy Pillow) at the same time! I am: Super Multitasking Crafty Mommy.

That pattern booklet I'm using is 2 Hour Dishcloths, available from the Annie's Attic web site. You can also get it in print, but the electronic download is only $7.95. There are 12 beautiful patterns in it, so I consider it a very good deal. My favorite is called "Wee Bobbles." I made one for my mother-in-law last year, and she requested another because she likes it so much, to use as pot holders. It's nice and thick, so also makes a good trivet. Hers is rose pink with a variegated pink and white border. I'm making one now that is turquoise blue with a summery yellow/blue/green trim. It's really got my crafting mojo going again. I'm loving it.

Acceptance

This will be my last "whine" post, since it's easy to get yourself down when talking about such things. We've had a week of long nights, but tis par for the course with a 3 week old. I've been reading lots of infant sleep books from the library while I'm nursing Anne, and the consensus is that there is pretty much nothing you can do to make a newborn sleep longer. They either will or won't, but things will improve by around 12 weeks. They may even slightly improve around 6-8 weeks, but certainly by 12-16 weeks. So, we can hang in there that long. And accepting that this is the way things are going to be is easier than constantly longing for something that I cannot have right now, which is a night of full or limited interruption sleep.

It's tough, because sometimes I think that Anne is actually *fussier* than Henry was, who was a *very* fussy baby. That seems monumentally unfair to me, but whoever said life was fair? Mike and I just don't seem to breed these calm and miraculous long sleeping infants. But all newborns are fussy in the evenings, so it's just one of those things.

I'm just trying to get through the days and nights right now, and honestly, it's not going that bad. I have Mike here to help me, thank God, and we're already over 3 weeks in. I return to dance 3 weeks from today, and I have lots to look forward to.

In other news, Anne's baptism is this Sunday, and I'm very much excited about that. I will post a picture on Monday. :)

I'm still alive

Well, I think I've come to somewhat of an acceptance of the long nights. At least this time, I know they won't last forever. They'll just feel like they do.

We haven't had a good night since I last posted, but alas. We've fared it pretty well. We're exhausted, but hanging in there. I'm trying to focus on the positive. And pretty much everything else is all positive. Anne has been awake more during the day and very lively. She has a very cute personality. I'm just counting the days until she's 12 weeks old and past the worst of this fussy stage. :)

In other uplifting news, I'm feeling happy with my postpartum weight loss. I gained a total of 27 lbs. this pregnancy. That's 2 pounds less than I gained with Henry. The first 20 or so always come off very easily. As you hone in on your prepregnancy weight, the loss gets much more difficult, especially when breastfeeding. Breastfeeding spurs that initial weight loss (excellent) but always wants to hang on to 5 extra pounds or so (not so fun). I have about 3 pounds to go, which I'm very happy with. I've been walking every day, which has the added benefit of getting me out of the house for some fresh air. It's been wonderful.

I started dancing again at home, and it feels *superlative*. I loved belly dancing while pregnant, but now I love being the only one in my body. :) My costume even fits again, although the top is *tight*. My rib cage may not have fully shrunk back in yet, I'll have to wait 3 more weeks on that, so see what it's going to be. But the bottom fits good. As well, I have more "going on" up top than usual, so there's a bit of a va va va voom! factor that I normally don't have. But it feels good to see myself as I was before pregnancy. My "new normal." It's a very good thing.

A tale of much spit-up

Well, as I'm sure you could tell from Friday's post, I wasn't in the best of spirits going into the weekend. And unfortunately, the weekend bore up that early prediction. It was a rough one.

We had two really bad nights in a row, and I was in that sleep deprived newborn haze of seeing pacifers and burb rags strewn over every available surface in my house and walking around with dried spit-up covering my blouse and in my hair. In our "TMI alert" for the day, my nipples were killing me and I felt teary and trapped. Saturday night was particularly bad. The baby was extra fussy and seemed in some clear discomfort and was up every 20-30 minutes throughout the night. I was a basket case by Sunday morning.

Yesterday, I had an epiphany: I think Anne has, to some degree, acid reflux. The sheer volume that she spits up is comparable only to a geyser. I did a little research, and come to find out, *all* newborns have some acid reflux. Their esophoguses are immature and they all spit up for the first 6 to 12 months of their lives. Anne's might be a bit more advanced than some, so I considered calling the pediatrician. But I read a bit about home remedies, and apparently if you incline them after eating, and while sleeping, this can help. I did that yesterday, and lo and behold, we had an excellent night last night and a much better day today.

Last night, I was able to put Anne down by 8:30 pm, and she slept for 4.5 hours. That's the most sleep I've gotten since she was born. After that, she slept for 3 hours, and then was up at 6 am for the morning to nurse again. That's excellent for a newborn.

This morning, I feel like a new woman. Getting some rest does wonders for ones physical and emotional health. We decided to observe her for at least a few more days before calling the pediatrician. She hasn't spit up nearly so much today, and I credit the inclining after feeding. Her bassinette is also slightly inclined, and that must be why she prefers to sleep in there. Side lying nursing is a total disaster for her. She gets all kicky and archy, and seems to have a hard time breathing well in that position, so I never feed her in that position anymore. I always have to sit up to nurse her.

So, I'm feeling better. I've also taken a gigantic amount of pressure off of myself with breastfeeding. With Hank, I never used formula. I didn't even know how to mix it until about a week ago. Feeding Anne has been so much more of a production, and my emotions (and poor, poor nipples) have taken a real beating. We've given her a few bottles of formula, and I feel SO much better knowing the pressure isn't always on me to feed her, sore nipples and all. A little formula isn't going to hurt her, and I'm just feeling BETTER.

I know supplementing can affect my milk supply, but, well. This time, I have a different perspective. My mental and physical health is not less important than Anne being exclusively breastfed. She's getting plenty of breastmilk (she's gained nearly 2 pounds since she's been born, up past 9 lbs, little chunker!) and receiving the nutrition that she needs. That's all that is important.

So, this morning, I'm feeling grateful for the hope that I feel today. That everything is going to be ok.

Officially inaugurated as mother of a newborn

What would that sign be?

Wait for it...

Evenings are tough right now. With Anne now just over 2 weeks old, she's getting into that "evening fussy phase," which I remember vividly from Hank, and well, it can be a bit of a nightmare.

Last night, she was wailing as I walked her around the house, trying to soothe her. Mike was upstairs giving Hank a bath. I had her kind of sitting in my arms, facing forward. Suddenly, I heard that ominous squirting sound. All of you parents know precisely what I'm talking about. Mike could hear it even from upstairs. What's worse, I *feel* something touch my hand. Uh oh.

That's right, poo on the floor. And on my hand. Our first official 'poosplosion'. You heard it coined here first.

Her diapers have generally been much, much easier to handle than Hank's. With boys, pee gets everywhere. Up in an arc over to the adjourning piece of furniture. Up their back. Down onto the changing pad and their legs. Possibly up onto your face. And Hank always had explosive poo diapers. You know it's a bad one when not only does the baby need a fresh outfit, but *you* do too.

Anne usually keeps to her diaper. Until last night. I guess everyone falls prey to it sometimes.

I cried last night for only the second time since bringing the baby home. I consider that a victory. With Hank, I cried everyday. I just felt overwhelmed for a spell. Which is totally normal with a new baby. I miss having some time to myself and not feeling so anxious all the time. I miss my routine. I miss my friends and my dance class. I wish my life felt like "mine" again. But, as with all things, this too shall pass. I'm just going to try and keep hanging in there.

Things going slightly better at the feast of the Ascension

Yesterday, as I pulled out of our driveway headed for the feast of the Ascension vigil Mass, I realized that I was reaching a new milestone: it was my first time out alone with Anne.

You wouldn't think it would be that big a deal, given, you know, that I already have a kid. But since he's five and a half and does everything from getting dressed to buckling himself into his booster seat by himself, it really is a big deal traveling with an infant again.

I had to get myself ready amidst her demands to nurse. Then I had to get her ready, and she seems to be perpetually covered in, and smelling of, spit up. Hank was home from school and was bouncing off the walls; Mike fielded him. I had to pack her diaper bag and get her carrier ready. I had to strap her into her car seat tote amidst her protesting wails, and haul her out to the car. I wasn't yet up to attempting Mass with both children on my own just yet (I'm kind of terrified, to be honest) so I left Hank home to have dinner with Mike and get his evening bath.

Once I got out to the car, I realized that I couldn't squeeze her seat into the rear driver side door given the space constraints of our garage, so I had to switch her seat position with Henry's booster seat. That took at least 5 minutes. Finally, I had her snapped in and headed out. Since it was work let out time, it was a tad trafficy.

Eventually, I arrived at our parish and parked. I had to grab all the baby paraphenalia, get her out of her seat (wail, wail) and into the carrier. My back hurt before I even got into the church. :) The opening hymn was finished by time we arrived, very unlike me. I looked down, and she was wide awake, very worrisome. She did crank as soon as I got into the pew, but thank the Lord above, I had the foresight to pack a pacifier in the diaper bag.

So, the end result is that I made it through my first Mass with a newborn in quite some time. My back was killing me, but I made it. I got tons of stares and comments about the tiny baby ("why aren't you home resting?") but honestly, I simply cannot sit at home in bed. The best thing for me is to resume as much of a sense of normalcy in my daily activities as possible. And going to Mass is key amongst those things.

In 'Anne and Tiffany Battle Thrush Episode 1', we had another bad night the night before last, but last night was much better. I think our thrush medications are working. We have to keep at it for another week, but I'm happy that it seems like progress is being made.

Already, this week feels different than last week. More like "this is me, just with a baby." We're getting there. :)