Memories....of Birth

In thinking back on Avonlea's birth, I find it amazing the things I remember strongly, and the things I seem to have forgotten.  I went back and read my birth story, and I found myself thinking, "Wow! I don't remember that at all!"

Some things about Avonlea's birth that have stuck with me through the year (warning: some of these are maybe a little gross for those of you unfamiliar with the birth and after-birth processes):

1. I remember very specifically when I was coming out of my epidural meds, and how I was so shaky I thought I was going to drop Avonlea. I made Nick take her, even though I was supposed to be doing skin-to-skin time (something I, of course, felt guilty for later).

2. Speaking of guilt, it took all of 5 minutes for the mom guilt to set in. I felt guilty for everything! I didn't do enough skin-to-skin in the first 2 hours of her life (even though for the first hour I couldn't because I was coming out of major surgery), she cried the whole way from recovery to our new room so I must be a bad mom because what mom can't get her own baby to stop crying?, I couldn't change her diapers without getting someone to help me lift her out of her bed (again, major surgery), I was so exhausted I didn't want to hold her and risk dropping her (again, major surgery), and the big one: I didn't go to the hospital when my water broke, which then pushed everything back, ultimately causing her to be born almost 36 hours afterwards, and thus probably causing her to get the infection that made her have to go to the NICU. That's the one that still haunts me.

3. I HATED those leg compression socks that they put on you after surgery!  Ugh. The Worst.

4. I was super itchy after the epidural wore off.

5. I cried through the whole surgery. It was just the most overwhelmed I have ever been in my whole life. The combination of my dad and my sister missing the birth, plus the ALL DAY drama that was my non-labor and non-contractions and stretching my cervix manually and the doctor basically wearing horse gyno gloves to work on me, plus the constant "birth plan" concessions--all of it just made me a blubbering mess.  When they finally turned the epidural up and laid me on my back and wheeled me out of the room, I had this overwhelming feeling of mom floating angel-like above my bed the whole way into the delivery, and I just lost it. Nick asked me if I was okay at one point, probably because I was crying so much. When they brought Avonlea over to me, I couldn't see her very well through the tears.

6. I got chastised by the overnight nurse my second night after surgery, for using the wheelchair to get down to the NICU to see Avonlea. She told me I should not need it anymore.  Umm...excuse me? 36 hours ago, I had my stomach sliced open, and a nearly-9-pound baby wrangled out of it, and then the incision stitched and taped--TAPED!!--back together!  I wanted to take her stethoscope and shove it...somewhere unpleasant.

7. I was right by the nurse's station, which was a blessing and a curse. Blessing, because I was right by the nurse's station! I could push my little buzzer, and someone would attend to my needs nearly immediately. Curse because, again, right by the nurse's station!  7am and 7pm were the worst, because the shift changes were SO LOUD. I mean, irritatingly so.

8. I was completely exhausted after the birth, and there is this picture of me sleeping next to Avonlea. But I was totally faking, just for the picture. I did not sleep. Like, at all. I just couldn't, for some reason. The whole first night I basically stayed up most of the night, until about 2am, when I finally drifted off.

9. I also got chastised by another nurse, and by the NICU people because when I finally did sleep, both Avonlea and I slept for 6 hours--which, is a huge no-no. I was supposed to be trying to nurse her every 3 hours. But no one was in the room with me, and I finally slept, people! The next morning, when I was supposed to have written down her poops and feeds, and they saw nothing on the chart for the last 6 hours, they talked to me like I was the worst dumb mom ever. I felt terrible.  Oh, did I mention this happened right after they told me they were going to have to take her down to the NICU?  Yeah. Icing on proverbial cake.

10. After I gave birth, I feel like I was essentially a very large bag of water. If I left any part of my body lower than my heart for more than 5 minutes, all the excess water went and hung out in that part--most often, my feet. I can't even express how completely grotesque and awkward that is--I really should've gotten a picture of it.

11. A C-Section is one of the most out-of-body, weird experiences I have ever had. I mean, you're completely numb--but you can still feel things, mostly when the things that are happening affect another part of your body that is not numb. I felt tugging and pulling during the surgery, which was gnarly. But the most weird thing was when they transferred me from the surgery gurney to the rolling bed. I could tell they were rolling me one way and another, I could tell because my head was moving around--but I couldn't feel anything! I wish there were adequate words to explain what that is like.

12. The nice thing about being so numb is that you don't feel the lovely (read: horrible) uterine massages they give you after birth. At least, you don't feel the first few. If, however, you're like me, and you just don't seem to stop having things flow out of you, then they will continue to do them over and over, even after the epidural has started to wear off. Whoa. Not fun.

I realize now that most of these things have to do with having a C-Section. I don't feel like there is adequate information out there about what you should do if you have a C-Section. In our childbirth class, there was about a 15 minute blurb about it from our teacher. I was totally unprepared, physically, mentally, and emotionally for the C-Section. I felt like I had failed Avonlea by not being able to birth her naturally (d*&n cervix!), and by having to do things in this "unnatural" way.

On Turning One

We celebrated Avonlea's birthday yesterday. She turned one on Friday. It is really surreal to look back at this year and to see how much she has changed--and how much she has changed me.

Many people shed tears on the first birthday, but I didn't. To be honest, I am glad she is one. I am glad she is getting older. I really didn't do well with her as a baby. Many people pine for the babies, and say, "Oh, I wish my baby was teeny tiny again!" I might smile at those people, but on the inside, I am thinking, "You are crazy. Do you REMEMBER what it was like with a newborn baby?"

Babies are No. Fun. As a mom, you're sleep-deprived, you're totally confused as to what you should be doing, you're paralyzingly lonely while simultaneously surrounded by people wanting to help you, sometimes you're in extreme pain from surgery, other times in extreme pain from pushing a child through your lady bits. The kid you've waited so long for is all wrinkly and kinda deformed-looking. When you look back at baby pictures later, you think, "I really thought *that thing* was cute?" because honestly, 99.9% of newborns are uhg-ly.  And yes, mine is included in that. Avonlea had weird tufts of hair, and super skinny legs and arms, and terrible baby acne for the first several weeks that made strangers ask what was wrong with her.  I, of course, was so hopped up on drugs and natural love-inducing hormones that I thought she was the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen.

I took this kinda weird-looking newborn home, and spent the next 4 months trying to figure out why it wouldn't stop crying non-stop. Or throwing up non-stop. Or pooping out of these ridiculously expensive diapers that are meant to hold poop.  (I mean, seriously. It's the diaper's ONLY JOB. We can send people to the moon, but we can't figure out how to contain baby poop in a diaper? Someone figure this out already!)

All of this to say, I was thrilled when she grew out of her incessant crying. That shark was making me cray-cray. I was overjoyed when she figured out how to stop throwing up everything she ate. I breathed sighs of relief when she could hold her head up by herself, so I didn't feel like I was going to snap off her head all the time. I loved the day she could follow a toy around with her eyes, and then the day when I could sit her down under a play mat and do something without holding her for 10 minutes. The day that she sat up on her own, I had a dance party for myself. (No, really, I did. I danced to Disney music. It was great.)  When I realized she could go 3 hours between feedings instead of an hour and a half, I rejoiced.

Basically, she went from a baby I could barely tolerate, to a baby I could figure out and truly appreciate. Believe me, it's not that I didn't love my baby. It might sound that way, but that is not the case at all. I just don't do well in situations where I have no control--and having a newborn baby is precisely that kind of situation. So I didn't do well.

But over the last few months, we have really come into our own, and I am really enjoying her. And as she gets older, and starts to be able to communicate even more, it will just get better. I love the stage she is in right now, and I don't wish to go back at all.

Now, I might not want to go forward after this...but that's another blog. :)

Visiting Family

A whole month without writing?? Egads!

I have a couple of posts that I started, but have just "saved" for later. There are just some things I want to brew for a little while longer before blasting them out.

We just got back from a wonderful weekend in San Diego. We met up with Ashley, who was in town for the weekend for a conference. We were able to stay together in the hotel one night, and then our friends graciously hosted us for the rest of the weekend, so we could be together as much as possible.

It's hard to believe that Ashley has only been able to see Avonlea three times so far. Growing up as we did in Ohio, surrounded by family all the time, I never thought I would raise my little one so far away from others in my extended family, especially not her immediate family.

I know that we are supposed to be here in LA. And I really do love it. But I do *not* love that Avonlea is growing up without them. It sucks, to put it mildly.

Food Frustrations

I didn't give Avonlea solids until 6 months. It wasn't some kind of weird stance or anything--it was mostly because I was (let's face it) lazy. It was just easier to cart Avonlea around without a bunch of other food and equipment, and with how my brain is working lately, I would forget half the time, anyways.

At 6 months, we started giving her solids. Purees, mostly--apples, peaches, pears, peas, carrots, sweet potatoes (of which she is now allergic). I would also give her slices of apples and carrots to gnaw on, which worked well.

She took to purees pretty well. She wouldn't eat a lot at one sitting, but she was still being breastfed, so I wasn't worried about the calories.

She figured out how to use the pouches at 9 months, sucking the food out on her own, which was nice and helpful. Again, she still wasn't eating a lot, but she was trying out new foods, and seemed to enjoy whatever we would give her (well, except peas. She hated eating peas by themselves.).  She did show signs of stubbornness--if I gave her a spoonful of something she didn't like, she wasn't eager to try anything else from a spoon that meal. It was like she didn't trust me or something.

About a month ago, she really hit her stride. She figured out how to hold the pouches, and could eat everything in it (or almost everything). I was excited because we were finally to the point where we weren't throwing food away!  She would be quirky, and one week not eat from a spoon at all, and only eat from a pouch, and the following week, it would reverse--but she was still eating.  I continued to give her bits of "real" food, too--a stalk of steamed broccoli, apples, some rice puffs, a bit of pancake, a cracker, some goldfish, some Cheerios.  She would gnaw on them, but she wouldn't swallow anything solid.  If it was too big, she would just work it with her tongue until she could spit it back out.

Well, about 3 weeks ago, she decided she no longer wanted food. Nothing. No purees, no solids, no finger foods.  She won't let me feed her, and she won't take purees from a pouch herself.  I will put some "real" food in front of her, and she will play with it, but next to nothing goes in her mouth (the dogs have learned to sit by her high chair, because she will often drop the food off the side).  If I try to put something in her mouth, she turns her head away quickly, or spits it out immediately--she doesn't even taste it.

Around 9 months, when she got on the food kick, I slowed down her breastfeeding during the day--but as a result, she was waking up every couple of hours at night to eat.  Since she's been on the food strike, I am breastfeeding her more during the day, and she's letting me sleep 5 hour stretches at night. Yes, I know she should be sleeping all night. I KNOW. I was hoping that by bumping up her calories during the day, she would sleep better--but that is blowing up in my face.

I am just really frustrated. I try new foods, she won't eat them. I try "favorite" foods, and nothing. I try purees from a spoon and from a pouch, and I may get her to eat one bite or one sip from the pouch, then she won't eat any more. She won't eat ANYTHING chunky. I have been a successful getting her to eat Greek yogurt--but if she gets any fruit bits, she works and spits them out.

We're on a strict budget, so I HATE buying food that she ends up not eating, and then I have to throw out.

Did any of you experience this problem? Should I just ride it out, or should I worry that I'll be serving my baby a pureed 1-year cake?

Before I had a kid, I was an idiot.

Before I had a kid, I was an idiot.

I wasn't stupid. After all, I got a decent score on my ACTs. I graduated with an acceptable GPA from my high school and college. I graduated from grad school with a 4.0. I have fun impressing people with my Jeopardy! knowledge. I'm a smart girl.

But I was an idiot.

That's the only way I can figure how I would think I had any reasonable idea as to what to expect when I had my own living, breathing human being to take care of day in and day out. "I'm not going to do that." "My kid won't do that." "My baby will be doing this."  Blah, blah, blah, fishcakes.

I wrote recently about how I don't feel like I will ever really have the parenting thing down. I get one thing together, and something else inevitably falls apart.

But these days, I feel like every. single. thing. I am doing is screwed up in some way...and it is my fault.

See, I thought that in order to be a "good mom", I had to do it all. Well, maybe not do it all, but try to do it all right.  Keep the house clean, keep the kid clean, breastfeed exclusively, get her on a schedule, make sure she sleeps in her own bed, don't worry about giving her solid foods until she's 6 months, get dinner on the table every night, yadda, yadda, yadda. Every single thing I was doing I was doing it as well as I could, but also simultaneously feeling like I was doing it wrong.

We have 2 dogs, and one saying that we tried to maintain throughout the puppy years was, "If you don't want the dog doing _____ when they're 150 pounds, don't let them do it when they're 15 pounds."  So, Waldo and Gus don't get on the couch. They get in and out of the car and the bathtub without help. They sit when they come in the house if it's raining, so that I can wipe off their paws.

I feel like with Avonlea, I've screwed up so much, and I've made things so hard on myself. She's a figurative 150lb dog that I didn't train right when she was 15lbs.

I worked so hard on breastfeeding that now, she will only eat from me. She spits out anything with texture, so she doesn't get any nutrients from "real food", and I am wasting tons of money on baby food that she eats one or two bites from. I also feed her before putting her down for a nap, or down for bed at night, so now she will scream if she doesn't get fed before bed.  Know who that messes up? Definitely not the little munchkin happily fed and sleeping in her bed.

I was lazy in the beginning, and once I found out she wasn't going to take a bottle anymore, I didn't press the issue. I didn't work with her to take a bottle. So now she doesn't take one. She does do a sippy cup and a cup with a straw, but I have never tried feeding her with that before putting her to bed. I never tried to have Nick feed her before putting her to bed. So now I am the one who has to put her to bed every night.

Avonlea still only sleeps in 2-3 hour stretches at night. I know I should sleep train her. I do. I have all of this guilt that she's keeping Nick up and he has to work and I get mad because I just want to stinking sleep already, but my boobs hurt if she goes really long between feedings because she eats every 2 hours at night that I just get up and feed her and she goes right back to sleep. And if I don't feed her then she screams for 1.5 hours, or maybe more but I don't know because by that time I lose my mind and just get up and feed her. So now I have a 10.5 month old who gets up at least 3 times every night and so I can't go do anything past 10pm because my kid will wake up and want to eat. Nick and I have tickets to see my favorite musical group on Sunday, and it's going to be a train wreck (pretty sure I can't convince them to only have the concert between 7 and 10pm).

My baby is a sweet, adorable, snuggly pair of handcuffs, and it is all my fault.

I'm already saying, "Oh, I'm going to do things so differently with the next kid," and then I stop myself and think, "Next kid? Oh, #*#& no!"

A Typical Day

My New Year's Resolution was to write more often, and here it is the beginning of February, and I think I have written less.

Part of the reason is that I am enjoying my girl. This week she has napped much less than normal, so I have been spending more time with her during the day. This is great, because with as much as she usually naps, I don't feel like I get enough time with her. Isn't that crazy? I see her all day, but I still feel like I don't see her enough.

Another reason is that to be honest, a lot of our days are kind of similar.  Here's a typical day:

7:30am - Avonlea is up for the day. I bring her into our bed with a couple of toys (or a box of tissues or a water bottle will suffice, too). She'll hang out in bed with us while I either read my Facebook feed or Instagram for a few minutes, or try to catch a few more zz's.

8:15am - By this time (at the latest), I am up for the day, making breakfast for she and I. I have also started making lunches for Nick, since we're on a budget and he can't go out to eat every day anymore. Avonlea eats solids at her high chair in the doorway to the kitchen while I make food.

9:00am - Avonlea is usually ready for her morning nap. I breastfeed her, then she goes down for anywhere between an hour and two-and-a-half hours (if I'm lucky).

While Avonlea is napping - do laundry, dishes, clean family room, check emails/FB, watch a couple of YouTube vids. I am trying not to be on the phone or on the computer while Avonlea is awake.

Whenever she gets up (usually 11:00am) - Playtime! She has a basket of toys that we get out, and she sits on the floor playing with me. These days, it is a little bit of playing, and a whole lot of crawling around the living room, exploring new areas she has only been able to look at for 9.5 months.

12:00pm - Usually in the afternoon we'll go to the park, or go to the library and the park. I pack a lunch while Avonlea is napping, and we'll go sit there for an hour or so. Avonlea loves the library already, which makes me so happy. On non-library days, we'll run errands during the afternoon.  I feed Avonlea solids at the park, or while we're out.

1:30 or 2:00pm - Avonlea is ready for her afternoon nap. I breastfeed her, then she goes down again for an hour or two. Though, this week, she has taken either the morning OR the afternoon nap, not both. Hopefully this is just temporary--I'm not ready for her to give up her two nap schedule yet!!

Whenever she gets up (usually 4:00pm) - Playtime! Usually at this point of the day, she is tired of her toys, so we play games together. She LOVES to dance and sing, so we'll do that for a while. She also loves to be tickled and she loves to play with my face, so we'll sit eye-to-eye for a while and just chat.  After a little while, we're just in survive-until-Daddy-gets-home mode. :)  I'll feed Avonlea solids again around 5 while I'm getting dinner ready.

6:00pm - Bathtime when Daddy gets home, or just hang out with Daddy while Mommy finishes dinner.

6:30pm - Depending on how her afternoon nap went, she'll either be ready for bed now or at 7, so I do bedtime routine. I breastfeed her before she goes to sleep.

10 or 11pm - Avonlea gets up to breastfeed.

2:00am - Breastfeed
5:30am - Breastfeed
7:30am - Start the next day!

Pretty much this is what every day looks like, which is why blogging is kind of a last-on-my-mind thing. Other than detailing her developmental changes (of which there are a lot), I don't have a lot to say. Or, I do have a lot to say, but I don't think about writing it down. *sigh* New mommy problems.

Scheduling note: Yes, she is still getting up several times at night to eat (last night, it was every 2 hours). I think I need to breastfeed her more during the day, so she's getting more daytime calories, but if I feed her more during the day, I feel like I'm feeding her all. the. time (either solids or breast milk). Hmm...

It's the Little Things (Letter to Baby)

Dear Avonlea,

It's midnight. I should probably go to bed, because the night is short, and you'll be raring to go in a few short hours.  But I just fed you, and now I can't sleep.

I can't sleep, my girl, because I am in awe of you.

As I was looking at you while you nursed, I just had an overwhelming feeling of peace and happiness.  And I just had to come and write it down, because sometime in the near future, I am going to have a very specific moment of UNhappiness. And I am going to wish for peace with every fiber of my being. And before that happens, I want to make sure I write this down so that I can return to it and remind myself of the wonder that is you.

Little girl, I love every single little thing about you.

The way your hair gets crazy on both sides after you nap because you sleep on your tummy.

The way you cross your feet when you sit, and it makes you look like a little lady.

The way you stick your tongue out when you encounter something new, and your little brain is just working, working, working to figure it out.

Your soft skin. Often, I will just "pet" your arms and legs while you nurse just to feel the softness.

Your eyelashes, and how sometimes, I wonder how they don't get tangled in your eyebrows, they're so long.

That little pointer finger that is always the first to explore something new, and how you just pick, pick, pick at that something. Just the other day, you worked on a sticker for 20 minutes, stick, unstick, stick, unstick.

How, when you're laying on the floor, and you can't hold yourself up on all fours anymore, you flop onto your belly, arch your back, put your arms and legs in Superman pose, and then pump them back and forth, like an upside down turtle. You'll crawl soon, little girl.

Your little giggle, usually reserved, but released at full strength when you're being thrown in the air, "thrown up on", or "stepped on". You're going to be a daredevil.

The way your little tongue is working so hard to form new sounds, and how you are fascinated with my teeth.

How, even though you can't crawl, you can still manage to get from one side of the room to the other with your cute little roll.

And how you get stuck under the coffee table and cry for me to rescue you.

Your little tooth that has popped in, and how I hear it scraping on all your toys as you figure out what this new invader in your mouth is.

The cute little "inny" belly button you have that always looks a little bit dirty (just like mommy's).

The way you wipe your entire face when you want to itch your nose--the way that mommy and Aunt Ashley do that drives Daddy crazy.

The way your little cheeks get super-pink if it's too windy, or you eat something new, or you get too hot--you always look like a little cherub.

I even love the things about you that can be kind of irritating, like how scratchy your nails seem to be *all the time*, or how you always seem to have sock fuzz between your toes, no matter how well I wash.


For these reasons, and so many more, I praise God for the wonder that He has given me. You are my treasure, little one. But more importantly, you are God's treasure. You were created in His image, and He made you just the way He wanted you to be. I want you to know how much I adore you. You may not always like everything about yourself. You may hate your hair, or your nose, or your eyelashes, or the way you do something--I remember feeling that way about myself many times. But, little girl, today I want to tell you that you are perfect just the way you are.

I'm so glad I get to be your Momma.