6 Months, Sisters

6 Months

Poppy is 6 months old now.


She can't sit up on her own just yet, but she's getting there.


One thing that is holding her back from sitting up on her own is her strong desire to lean forward. Her spinal erectors can't pull her back up, yet!


Isn't she gorgeous? She's been called the Gerber Baby. :-)


Sisters

The sister bond is developing.


I don't push it. I'm sure this will change later when Poppy starts crawling and getting into things, but for now I don't badger Rosemary to watch her sister for me. If Poppy is crying, instead of straight-up telling Rosemary to entertain Poppy, I problem solve with her: "Aww, Poppy's crying. What do you think is the matter? Is she sad that she can't reach that toy? Do you want to give the toy to her? Oh, look at how happy that made her!" This way she feels more like it's her idea, or something that she wants to do, instead of just grudgingly obeying what Mommy tells her to do.


I love watching their relationship mature.


Catch y'all later.

Breastfeeding Issues

Poppy does breastfeed, but we are having issues. She spends much time awake and uncomfortable (read: screaming) whenever I eat dairy, and even with removing dairy from my diet she spits up multiple times after most meals, arches her back after feedings, is very gassy, and she pops on and off the breast. You can see we're having fun over here, right? Here are some problems we are possibly encountering:

Dairy Sensitivity
The dairy problem was easy to diagnose. I'm still figuring out just how sensitive she is. Milk and cream are definite no-no's, but are cheese, yogurt, and butter okay? I don't know. I need to cut them out and gradually add them back. In the meantime, Senpai stocked the fridge with soy milk, ice cream, cheese, and yogurt for me. Except that babies can be sensitive to soy, too. (!) For now, I think we're okay with soy. Maybe after I address some of our other problems, if Poppy still seems uncomfortable, I'll continue trying to eliminate more things from my diet and see if it makes a difference.

Reflux
The frequent spitting up and back arching point to baby reflux. I will address this with our pediatrician and see if she thinks Poppy would benefit from medication. I can say that it definitely is not as bad a case as Rosemary had. Rosemary needed to be either reclined or lying on her stomach to comfortably fall asleep, whereas Poppy is perfectly content lying flat on her back. Rosemary didn't spit up like Poppy does, but they both are and were very gassy babies. Yay for preemie reflux! :-/

Fast/Overactive Letdown
This problem is on my end, obviously. Poppy's spit up, gassiness, and popping on and off the breast also point to fast/overactive letdown of my milk. I know this problem is exacerbated by pumping. I have reduced how much I pump to only about three times a day, based on how well Poppy breastfeeds, but it still seems like I have too much milk for her. I have to pump because she doesn't always breastfeed well, and those days require me to put milk in the fridge for bottles for her. It's a difficult balancing act of milk in the breasts vs. milk in the fridge vs. happy awake baby or sleepy disgruntled baby. I wish I didn't have to juggle these factors, but I do. I need to schedule an appointment with the lactation consultant and see what can be done. I guess I'd feel better if I had more of a concrete plan to follow, as opposed to being at the mercy of these separate but related elements.


So there's the plan for now: eliminate dairy (working on it), see the pediatrician (appt. scheduled for the 10th), see the lactation consultant (need to call tomorrow). I really hope we can iron out these issues so Poppy can be a happier baby and so we can have an easier time breastfeeding.  

Comments

As any new mom knows, it's impossible to take your newborn out in public without garnering comments from passersby. My favorite, from when Rosemary was still an itty bitty preemie, is, "She's fresh out of the box!" I posted it on Facebook to which a snarky friend replied, "She's fresh out of YOUR box." :-p

Poppy is not as tiny as Rosemary was, but people have still commented on her age. One woman said, "She must be a few days out of the hospital!" It was too long-winded for me to explain, "Well, she's a month old, but she did spend most of that time in the neonatal intensive care unit. So in that sense you're right, but, really, she's been home for a week already." I just smiled politely and went back to my shopping.

The comments that bug me, though, and I've gotten a couple already, are the ones making note of my size: "You're so tiny! I'm insanely jealous!" These people have no idea. And, once again, it's too much to explain, so I apologize for inspiring negative feelings in them and move on. Too much to explain that, while pregnant, I logged every meal, every carbohydrate, and had that information scrutinized by a dietician who laid down the law: my breakfast was a tiny cup of yogurt, I wasn't allowed to snack. Too much to explain that skinny isn't always healthy: my body drops weight when my blood sugars get too high because-- not able to utilize the sugar from food without enough insulin-- it has to convert my fat cells into energy.

I don't do it on purpose. It just happens. It's life with type 1 diabetes. And they have no idea.

Valid Reasons to be Concerned

First, we saw her face!!! Though she has been more than eager to show off that she is a girl, Poppy has buried her face deep into my pelvis during every ultrasound. Which is a lot. I'm up to weekly ultrasounds now, people. Well, Tuesday was a good day; the ultrasound technician printed off picture after picture of my girl's chubby little face. <3

This is the best one. Though she is squished up against the placenta here, at least her fingers aren't protruding from her forehead like demon horns. >:-(


Speaking of chubby.... girl's measurements are off the chart! My huge belly confirms this: Poppy is a BIG baby. This leads us to some problems with delivery, of course. My doctor's plan is to keep monitoring her growth (hence the weekly ultrasounds), and do an amniocentesis at 36 weeks to check her lung function. If her lungs show to be well developed by then, we'll be induced. If she needs more time to ripen, then I will most likely have to get a c-section closer to her due date. I've got my fingers crossed for strong, healthy lungs for the little miss (and I hope you do, too!), because I am terrified of getting cut open and having my milk be delayed coming in and ruining our chances of breastfeeding. This is my last baby... I really hope we can do it this time. Get it right this time. I hope.

In order to maximize our chances of breastfeeding, I wrote out a birth plan. I showed it to my doctor on Tuesday and she signed off on it, agreeing that the requests I made were do-able (under ideal conditions, of course). I asked for all the new age mom type stuff: no epidural, no episiotomy, immediate skin to skin contact after baby is born, don't cut cord until it has stopped pulsing, delay tests and evaluations by an hour, no eye goo, and no baths. I've done my research and all of these points make sense to me. I'm looking forward to my ideal birth scenario. I won't be crushed if complications arise and it doesn't happen all sunshine and roses as I'd like, but I do still like to believe it could happen this way.

An early delivery would throw a wrench in plans by adding a NICU stay to the equation. I got scared and freaked out on my doctor at the end of the appointment Tuesday. The nurse had reminded me that headaches and blurry vision were signs of pre-eclampsia, and wouldn't you know it, as I sat there under the fluorescent lights I started to get all fuzzy-eyed and tense in the brain. Compounded to those sensations are the facts that there will be a FULL MOON at the end of this week correlating with Poppy turning 33 WEEKS gestation (same conditions Rosemary was born under). Yeah, I was freaking out. My doctor talked me down, reassuring me that my blood pressure was still fine and there was no protein in my urine; everything looked good. She also reminded me that I can call or visit the office at anytime. She said most moms get jumpy around this time, but, being high risk, I have valid reasons to be concerned.

Lying here on the couch, gulping down water, waiting for the Procardia to erase these contractions that like to pop up every so often, yeah, I'm concerned.

Joy to the World

The Season of Giving

There was a toy collection box behind the Santa photos at the mall. I have no idea when it was put there, but when we first found it, four days before it was going to be removed, it was empty.


Save for one toy truck and some pieces of trash, it was just a black hole of nothingness.

We had Rosemary with us. She was fussing and I said, "It's okay, Sweetie, we'll come back tomorrow with toys for this box." It broke my heart to see a lack of giving from the community in this way. I thought I'd fit in a trip to Toys R' Us in the morning to pick up a few things for the box, but Senpai was pissed and wanted to do something about it right then. We had just received good news that Senpai's contract job was secure for the next year, and he was determined to share the wealth. He stormed off to Sears and started loading a shopping cart full of toys.


I wanted to help pick toys out, but Senpai was on a mission, and someone needed to chase Rosemary between the clothes racks.


Here's his loot. When he told the manager at Sears what the toys were for, the manager kindly took 50% off each item. Senpai said this made him want to get more!


The Donation Box after. It still needed work, but Senpai did make a dent in it. I placed a Facebook call out to locals telling them about the box and encouraging them to make a donation in the limited time that was left. I never had a chance to go back to the mall again to see if more toys were added or not. I dearly hope so.


Jelly Bean

On another note of Joy, I waited so long to share the following bit of news that the initial excitement has worn off and now I don't know how to say it.

Out with it, I guess: we're pregnant again. ^_^ I'm 14 weeks now; baby is due June 22. We plan to find out the gender but we do not know it yet. [Update: Girl!]


Here's me and the Jelly Bean (baby) at 12 weeks.

I've been seeing high risk Maternal Fetal Medicine (MFM) doctors in St. Louis every two weeks. (Early on, I asked if they'd always see me this often and the doctor replied no, they will see me more often later in the pregnancy! I guess that answered my question.) They help me keep my blood sugars under control, and, with this close care, we're all hoping that Jelly Bean will gestate longer than Rosemary did. [Update: she didn't.]


That's it for now. I'll post Christmas morning pics as soon as we can extract still frames from the video we took. [Update: Doesn't look like that's ever going to happen. Sorry.] Merry Christmas from We Look Like a Family!

the NICU post

(Are you a new NICU parent? Read here for tips about what to do during your baby's NICU stay.)


I go more in detail into the birth in a previous post, but I'll start here with a quick recap: Rosemary was born at 33 weeks gestation. With the full moon, my body tried to push her out. The doctors were able to stop the contractions, but my liver fought back in the form of HELLP Syndrome, demanding that the baby get OUT. Start up the pitocin; my body couldn't handle being pregnant anymore. That's how my baby was born.

She had received the steroids for her lungs while she was still in utero, so she came out with a healthy cry. At least three of the many people in the operating room focused on her as soon as she came out. Is she breathing? How's her heartbeat? Any liquid in the lungs? Very fast-- within a couple of minutes-- she was cleaned up, wrapped up, and brought over to me (though still out of reach) to see that sweet, tiny face for all of one second. Just as fast as they brought her over they took her away, out of the room, down the hall, to NICU. Senpai asked if he could follow, and then my family was gone. Being left behind, without either my husband or newborn baby in the delivery room was an intensely lonely feeling that tasted bittersweet. My thoughts were along the lines of, "I carried this baby for seven months, I've been in pain for her, I just delivered her, and now... I can't see her." I clung to the image of her little red face, already fading in my memory, as I was taken back to my room and monitored by the nurses. She had been born at 9:29 pm. When I still hadn't seen her two hours later, I demanded to be taken to her. I touched my baby for the first time at 12:20 am.

First trip to the NICU.

Entering the NICU, it was so uniquely different from the rest of the hospital. People had to be buzzed in, signed in, watches and jewelry removed, and hands and arms scrubbed with disinfecting soap up to the elbow (I just remembered the smell of the soap). Children, the little germ harvesters that they are, were not allowed in. Parents and two family members (that you choose, but must specify on a form) were the only people allowed to see the baby, but only two at a time.

The NICU was divided into different sections with varying levels of care, labeled from A to G. Rosemary started out in an open bed in the last room, G. After the first night they then moved her to an incubator (they call them "isolettes" these days) against the wall to the right when you walked in the door. The first time I saw her in the NICU, she was on her stomach in her open bed, breathing with the help of a respirator tube. I wasn't worried. I knew she had received the steroids for her lungs, and I had heard her healthy cry after she had been delivered. I think I was also too tired to be worried. I was just so elated to finally see and touch the tiny 4 lb 13 oz little girl that had made my uterus her home for so long. I was taken back to my room after only about 20 minutes because I was starting to fall asleep in the wheelchair.



I was not one of those Moms who spends every minute in the NICU. I was still healing for one, very exhausted, trying to get my body's systems back to normal, and two, I believed that the doctors and nurses in the NICU were taking good care of my baby. She wasn't sick, she just wasn't meant to be out in the world yet. All she needed was to grow and learn how to eat, otherwise she was a healthy little camper. She would forget to breath sometimes, and for that she was put on a daily caffeine injection. I never saw her get stuck with anything. I would see the aftermath-- a new IV line in her head, little red spots on her hands-- but the nurses did the dirty work when the family wasn't around. I'm sure seeing her in pain would have broken my heart in two.



Senpai got to hold her first. I wasn't there to see it, but he came back to my room looking so excited. The first time I held her, maybe two days after she had been born, was so magical. She was itty bitty and warm, and red like a little lobster from the jaundice.



Under the bilirubin lights.

I think it was the fourth day when Senpai came back into my hospital room after visiting Rosemary in the NICU and said, "They want to start putting clothes on her." I looked over at the duffel bag we had packed with things from home, inside of which I knew was a teeny-tiny sweater I had crocheted while I was still pregnant. I had followed a pattern, but even with using a larger hook size the gauge came out incredibly small and the sweater looked like it could fit a doll. I had shaken my head at the microscopic sweater when it was completed, wondering how it would ever fit a full-term baby. There in my hospital room, I felt foolish all of a sudden for wanting to put it on her. Senpai had asked me before if he should bring it over to the NICU, but I hadn't wanted him to, I don't know why. It wasn't until the "order" as it were came down from the nurses that I knew she needed that sweater. We went right over, me clutching the smallest little sweater in the world, and miraculously, it fit her. That sweater I made was the first piece of clothing my baby ever wore. There was a matching hat, too, but it wouldn't fit over the IV line they had just put in her head.



The first way her Daddy and I got to care for her was to change her diaper. I don't know about Senpai, but I felt odd doing it at first, like it wasn't my place. I thought, "The nurses handle everything, feeding, diapering, changing bed linens, etc... Who am I to care for my baby? Wait, I'm her mother. I'm supposed to be doing this anyway. But she's in their charge; they make the important decisions, not I. Oh well, just change your baby's diaper, already!" That's how my head struggled with the facts. But the more we did it, of course, the more comfortable we became being Rosemary's parents.



My Mom and Dad drove up from Florida after Rosemary was unexpectedly born. Mom was able to stay Easter weekend, but she had to return back to work after that. Dad is retired, so he stayed with us the entire time I was in the hospital and even later. I was discharged after a week, but Rosemary was still in the NICU. It was strange.. I was discharged home without my baby. I am so grateful to both of my parents for being there for me when I was weak. Senpai, too, of course. But it would have been really hard if Dad hadn't stayed longer. He helped around the house, drove the 26 miles when I was too tired to do it myself, and kept me company while Senpai was at work. He was glad to help, but he was also happy when Rosemary finally came safely home, so he could return home, too. Thanks, Dad.

I pumped breastmilk to go into her tube, but her little body needed more nutrition than I could provide at first, and she was given formula as well. It was actually more like she was given formula plus the little bits of colostrum that I produced. I put my heart and soul into pumping, waking up every three hours even into the night, trying to rev up production. It wasn't until after I had been discharged home that my breasts finally produced enough milk so the NICU staff could feed her breast milk alone without formula. I was so thrilled to get to that point. I worked with a lactation consultant to try to breastfeed, too. One day I was trying to breastfeed Rosemary behind a screen when I could hear the doctor going over Rosemary's chart with the nurses. A male nurse relayed that Rosemary didn't tolerate formula well, and the doctor got the wrong idea, thinking that I was stopping giving her breast milk. The female doctor became all bullish all of a sudden, "Where's the mom? She's here?" and she poked her head over the screen, while I had my baby to my breast, and demanded to know why I wasn't breastfeeding. I just looked at her incredulously. It's humorous now. I'm glad they had Rosemary's best interests at heart.



Even though the breastmilk was there, getting her to ingest it for herself was a tall mountain to climb. She was born before her sucking reflex had developed. Every day the nurses, Senpai, and I would try to put a bottle in her mouth, just to have her mouth form an "o" from which she would poke her tiny little tongue out. It was the cutest thing in the world. I said, "That's adorable, Sweetie, but it's not going to help you eat." When she finally did learn to suck, it started as only one or two little sucks and then she would stop, mostly from exhaustion. The rest of the bottle had to go down her feeding tube. Gradually she started to drink more and more, still never finishing her bottle. She was just too short on strength and energy. When she had been there for 18 days, I finally broke down. When I got there I learned that the nurse that day had put an entire bottle down her tube, without even trying to get her to drink it. That was the standard procedure-- If a baby doesn't do well for one feeding, just tube feed the next-- but I was ready to punch her. They wouldn't send Rosemary home on a feeding tube, and she wouldn't be rid of the damn thing if they kept using it without even trying to get her to drink the milk for herself. I expressed my concerns to the nurse in the nicest way possible without actually punching her. She went and found the doctor-- a nice Asian fellow, not the bull woman from before-- and after hearing what happened he changed Rosemary's feeding schedule from every 3 hours to... whenever she was hungry.



This simple directive made an unbelievably profound difference. What a brilliant idea! Feed the baby when she's hungry! And, oh man, she ate SO WELL after that. It turned out that every 5 hours was her personal schedule. The NICU staff squirmed at that timeline, not really liking the idea of pushing feedings beyond 4 hours, but it was so good for her. She wasn't eating at 3 hours because she was still tired! She was supposed to be sleeping then according to her own schedule, but here were these nurses prodding her awake and forcing a bottle in her mouth, expecting her to chug it down. But when she was hungry, 5 hours later, she finished the whole bottle, every single one of them. She was discharged a day and a half later.

 

Happy Welcome Home, R Day!

Today is the anniversary of R's discharge from the NICU. She's upstairs napping right now while I sit here in front of the computer and relive the day.


I was so happy I felt like I was going to burst. I couldn't stop the joy, the relief, the excitement from bubbling up under my skin. The "d" word had only been hinted at the day before, but there we were, signing release forms and packing up. Her little jaundice shades were missing, another baby must have needed them, but tiny diapers, tubes of zinc and petroleum, a nasal aspirator and thermometer were all thrown into a hospital bag. R was wearing an adorable short-sleeved outfit we had brought for her, but over top of that was also a warmer NICU outfit that the nurse convinced us she would need, and on her head was the cute little crochet hat she had been given when she was born. We buckled her snug into the car seat that had been sitting next to her bedside for weeks. We had brought it early so that it wouldn't be something to hold us back when the time came (I always pestered the nurses, "When will the car seat test be done?"). The blanket I crocheted went over the seat belts to protect her from the chill wind that was blowing that day.

When all of the paperwork was done... we walked out the NICU doors and didn't look back. The nurse pulled a plastic wagon that contained R in her car seat. We were still on hospital property, hence R was still in their care. Senpai and I walked beside the wagon feeling as joyful and proud as new parents who had only spent a day or two in the hospital instead of twenty.



I waited at the entrance with the nurse while Senpai pulled our vehicle up. This nurse I had hated only a few days before because she did not seem to be helping R get off the feeding tube. After expressing my concerns to her and the doctor, a new plan was put in place, and it worked. R was eating. And now I love that nurse for helping us get out of there. I hope she knows how much that means to us. She has to know.

Senpai opened the car door, the car seat clicked securely into its base, and we were off, homeward bound. Let me let that sink in for a moment: we were going home.


She had never been in the sunlight before this moment. The NICU is kept dim, womb-like, with the shades drawn over the windows. Here, for the first time in her life, she could feel the radiance of the sun.


We came home, and I put her in a baby sling. In the NICU, you aren't allowed to walk around while holding your baby. If you are holding her, you are seated. You may only hold her for so long before they gently remind you to put her back in her plastic bed. Having the option, the opportunity to strap her in close to me and go.. anywhere, for as long as.. anytime, was such a momentous change from the previous four weeks. I held her, and held her, and held her. I haven't let her go since.

Today's Two BIG Achievements!

Today has been a VERY special day for the R-baby. I don't know if I can even call her a baby anymore! Here are the two new developments that happened just this morning:

1. First words!!!

First words are tricky. Just because a baby knows how to make the sounds doesn't mean she knows what they mean. R has been saying "Dada" and "Mama" for months now, but I'm only halfway certain that she knows what they mean. We had a conversation in the car Friday that went something like this:

R, "Ki."
Me, "Do you see a kitty?"
No answer.
Me, remembering hearing a clunk sound the minute before, "Did you drop your toy keys?"
R, "Di."
Me, "I'll be stopping the car in just a little bit. I'll give you your keys back then, okay?"
R, "Di."

So those were almost words. But today, when the cat plopped in front of her and she said "kitty," and then when she clearly said "up" after I had picked her up, I can say with absolute certainty that she knows what they mean. :-D I need to pay more attention to what I say to her! And I absolutely need to "give her [more] words" as my Mom says. ^_^


2. She pooped in the potty.

Yes, she pooped in the potty!!! The Baby Whisperer books recommend starting potty training as early as 6 months, but I wasn't ready to take on the task until 12 months. We just started last week, putting her on the potty after her meals. The cupcake is very regular, usually pooping after lunch or before dinner, so I've been trying to catch her before she goes in her diaper. Today we did it! She has a small seat that goes directly on the toilet. Our routine is that she will sit on the seat and look at a potty book while a timer counts down 5 minutes (it's nice to give the potty trips a definite end). After lunch today, while she was still in her high chair picking at the last bits of noodles in her tray, I saw her starting to grunt. I quickly got her out of the high chair, rinsed the food off her hands, then whisked her into the bathroom. We sat there reading the book for almost the whole 5 minutes. Just when the timer was about to ring, she looked at me and started to whine. It was as if she was saying, "Mom, I have to poop! Where's my diaper?" I reassured her, "It's okay, Sweetie, this is where you're SUPPOSED to poop!" She tensed up and then I heard the water splash beneath her. I was so excited! I called Senpai right there in the bathroom while R was still pooping, ha! Is that rude? He was eating lunch. :-p Afterwards I made a big deal of showing her the poop and flushing it away. Then I hung the reward chart that came with her potty book on the fridge and put a sticker on it. I'm so proud! ^_^


Sigh. Happy Mommy memories. :-)

Revisiting the NICU

We went back to the NICU today.

I have yet to write a post about the NICU. It is sitting in my drafts collection, along with many other posts that get started but not finished. (Update: NICU post is here.) Suffice it to say, Rosemary's stay in the NICU was twenty long days of breast milk pumping, 26 mile drives to the hospital, one or two hours of gazing at my baby in the isolette, ham sandwich lunches in the courtyard, and then an hour to drive back home through rush hour traffic. Day in and day out, even on weekends: enter the parking garage and hope you find a spot, park, grab the breast pump and the cooler full of breast milk out of the car, enter the hospital's lobby, walk straight to the elevator and push the up button, wait, enter the elevator and push the button for the 5th floor, wait, exit the elevator, walk down the hall, turn right, slam the button to open the massive NICU doors, drop your stuff, kick the pedal on the floor to turn on the scaldingly hot water in the sink, pump antibacterial soap onto your hands and lather up to your elbows, rinse in the hot water, grab two paper towels from the dispenser (one is never enough), toss the paper towels in the trash, sign in at the front desk (Name: Kyla, Here to See: Rosemary, Time in: --:--, Time Out: --:--), pick up your stuff you left on the floor by the sink, walk straight to your daughter's bed, drop your stuff again, sit in the chair the nurse pulled up for you and gaze lovingly at your daughter until she wakes up.


Doors to the NICU.

20 days of the same thing, until we could finally bring her home. And I know there are families out there who go through much worse. Families who live further than 26 miles away from the hospital, families whose babies have much bigger health concerns than just not knowing how to eat, babies who stay in the NICU for much longer than 20 days. Those families have all of my sympathy, because our ordeal certainly took its toll on me.


Four days before she was released, but I didn't know it at the time. You can see the stress in my eyes and my fake smile.

So we went back today. It had been on my mind for awhile that I wanted to give something back to the NICU, and Rosemary's birthday was the perfect occasion. Ideally, the gift would have been a sack full of little hats that I would had crocheted for the tiny baby heads, but my crochet projects move agonizingly slow these days, and I have yet to successfully make a baby hat. So what I did instead was go out and buy two preemie boy outfits and two preemie girl outfits. The NICU had dressed Rosemary in their clothing while she was there, and we ended up taking one of their outfits home with us (I'm not going to give it back either). That being the case, I thought giving them more clothes was fitting.

Our experience going to the hospital was entirely different this time. We pulled into the parking garage and the attendant stopped us right at the entrance asking for our name and our business at the hospital. She said parking was free today, which was a very welcome change! We found a spot, pulled OUR BABY and gifts out of the car, entered the hospital's lobby, walked straight to the elevator and pushed the up button, waited, entered the elevator and pushed the button for the 5th floor, waited, exited the elevator, walked down the hall, turned right... and the doors were already wide open for us. Another family had just entered the NICU and it seemed like the doors were delaying their automatic close. They knew we were standing there, wanting to pass. Senpai and I stood in the hallway and had a little discussion about who should enter first, or should we all go even though Rosemary wasn't allowed due to her age. The doors were still open, waiting for us, so we took the chance and all went in together.

There was no hand washing. No signing in. The front desk attendant and a group of nurses who happened to be standing there were thrilled to see us. It took a bit of prodding for them to remember. She doesn't look like she was a preemie! What did you say your name was? How big was she when she came in? She was 4 lbs 13 oz when she was born. She's 22 lbs now! Is she walking yet? Not walking, no, but she can stand. It won't be too much longer! No... it won't.

To My Daughter, R, on Her First Birthday

I'm sorry, Sweetheart, that today wasn't a very exciting day. We hung out in the cold garage this morning while a nice man fixed the windshield on Daddy's car. You had potato, mushrooms, and turkey for lunch. I switched two of your bottles today with a sippy cup of cold milk; you were less than pleased with this change. You practiced standing with me and played with your new toys until dinnertime, when you ate yellow rice, chickpeas, and broccoli. Daddy came home, and we sang "Happy Birthday" to you, then we all enjoyed carrot cupcakes together. We went to the gym for a bit, then you finished off the evening watching "Winnie the Pooh." Right now, as I type away on the computer, you are upstairs sleeping fitfully due to the three top teeth that are pushing their way through your gums (you have two bottom teeth already). And that, my dear girl, was your first birthday.

Don't get me wrong, though, we partied hard on Sunday. You were surrounded by friends. You had fun playing with little people just your size, and you received many presents. You dug right into your first cupcake ever.





This is all such a change from your first day in the world last year. And that's the beautiful thing about growing up: everything changes. You were such a tiny, little girl, with a look of eternal peace on your face when I first saw you in the NICU. And even though you were in the hospital for the first twenty days of your life on the outside, I never once thought you were frail. You were small, and fragile, and tired from all of the growing you still had to do, but I saw so much strength in you. You did grow, and you learned everything you needed to know to thrive outside of the hospital. A whole year has passed now and you continue to grow stronger every day. You are incredibly smart and beautiful and just the sweetest baby I could ever hope to call my own. If I can do nothing else in the world, I hope to raise you to be a strong woman who seeks out what she wants, gives to those who don't have, and questions everything. Please continue to grow.

I love you.
Mom <3

11 mos... almost a year

The changes are coming fast now. (Haven't I said that before?)

We are so close to R's first birthday, and she is picking up the pace to catch up with other one-year-olds. She can go from crawling to sitting back to crawling again. She can get up on her knees. She can pull herself to standing when she's in her crib demanding attention. She asks for things that she wants, like snacks or to be held standing up. Tonight she surprised both Senpai and I by crawling over to the tv and yelling at us. We talked to her, "What's wrong, Sweetie? You're okay, you don't need to yell." She kept at it until I picked her up. From her new viewpoint in my arms she could see the "Winnie the Pooh" dvd case on the tv stand, and she started wiggling excitedly. I laughed at Senpai, "I know exactly what she wants!"

We set her up with a pillow and her Pooh and Tigger dolls, and just watch what happened:



As I was recording with my point'n'shoot camera (sorry for the sad digital quality), I couldn't stop myself from giggling. I looked up to see Senpai's reaction, and he was having just as hard a time keeping himself together. Even after I stopped the camera, we couldn't pull ourselves away from watching her get into the movie. I'm trying to think of why this is special to us. I mean, she's reacting to her favorite movie, whoop-de-doo. But... she asked for it. And look at how happy she is that she got it! (Uh oh, we're in trouble.)

She is proving every day to be more and more of her own person. The parenting book I'm reading states that, "You are responsible to your kids, but you don't own them. They own themselves." Thank you, R, for showing me the pure beauty of you.

For The Next Kid

Throughout R's babyhood we've been buying her things that would also work "for the next kid."

"Cloth diapers and wipes are great! We can also use them for the next kid."

"Let's get this [insert random baby item] in gender neutral colors, so we can also use it for the next kid."

"We'll pack up R's old clothes in storage, just in case the next kid is a girl."


And that's how we've been going all along, planning ahead and saving every little baby item that R no longer uses, because our next baby might need it. Except lately we've been thinking there won't be a next baby. The desire to give her a sibling comes and goes, but more often than not, I return to the thought, "She'll be okay as an only child." Still I continue to squirrel away R's leftovers, not knowing what else to do with them, and not entirely sure that we won't need them again.

The prospective sibling has already been named (our girl name also happens to share the name of a new perfume, so I think of a baby girl every time I smell the ad in a magazine), and that may be where I'm having trouble letting go. I've already imagined the two of them together, getting into squabbles, trying my patience, but also playing with and loving on each other.

She'll be okay as an only child... right?


Her best friend.

Health concerns most certainly warn me to not risk another pregnancy. And after some tough times with R, I've had doubts about how "good" of a mother I could be to two children. In motherhood I am realizing that throwing tantrums won't cut it anymore, not if I want to remain cool and teach my child how to properly manage her anger. After an extremely stressful morning last week where Senpai ended up going to work three hours late because I had a meltdown and needed him to take over trying to get R back to sleep, I felt an intense desire to get help managing my anger. I found it yesterday in the form of a parenting book that I have thoroughly underlined and will most likely finish tonight. I'm still growing as a parent, that much is for certain, but the growth comes because the stressors are there. If your kids don't test you, who will? So it's hypothetical that maybe, just maybe (with lots more books), I might be able to effectively parent two. It's a theory, at least.

Will we have another? I don't know. Like I said, the feeling comes and goes, ebbs and flows with my hormones, the full moon, the tide, seeing other mothers with two children, seeing siblings relate to one another, and then seeing R sitting by herself, playing quietly with her toys.

My heart is thumping with the possibility. My head holds it in check. Who knows what the end result will be.

The Difference Between "Awake" and "Upset"

I am learning the difference between "awake" and "upset."

Before October, when just R, Senpai, and I lived in our house, R slept through the night. She was in her own room, sleeping peacefully in her own space. Of course, her room was over the kitchen, so in this old house where noise travels easily, a dish or pan lid clattering too loudly from Mommy and Daddy making dinner below would cause her to start crying, and then Mommy or Daddy would be bolting up the stairs to help her find her pacifier. It wasn't a perfect sleep. There were many "pacifier interventions" as we call them, but she seemed to have outgrown needing a bottle and diaper change in order to fall back to sleep.

Then the in-laws moved into her room. R's crib was hauled over to Mommy and Daddy's room. She didn't sleep through the night anymore. From October to the end of February, even after she had been moved out of Mommy and Daddy's room and into the brand new bedroom that had been built just for her over the dining room (nothing happens in there, lol), she would need at least one bottle in the middle of the night, sometimes even two.



Her pediatrician had been telling me all along that nutritionally she did not need those extra bottle-feedings, that she needed to learn how to self-soothe. I really did believe her, but when R woke up screaming at midnight... 2 am... 5 am... a bottle was the only thing that would calm her down and get her back to sleep. And I (frazzled, depressed, at the end of my rope) desperately needed her to sleep. The nighttime feedings continued on and on, until our extended guests eventually moved out.

The house is quieter with them gone. Senpai and I are much calmer (and happier!), and it seems like R can finally relax enough to stay out for the entire night. The change happened almost immediately. Senpai's parents left Saturday, and Sunday through Tuesday nights were completely uninterrupted. Then I got cocky and wrote a facebook status update about R sleeping through the entire night, so, of course, she woke up Wednesday night. But last night, I noticed something. Yes, she woke up, but she wasn't upset. She burbled and made some, "Hey, where is everyone?" type chirps, but she wasn't crying. I let her be. I knew if she saw me she would start crying for a bottle, so I just laid in bed next to Senpai and waited, listening to the monitor, to see what she would do. She didn't cry. The chirps and burbles continued for almost an hour, and then she drifted back to sleep. It was beautiful. I didn't have to do anything. The difference between "awake" and "upset" is everything.

Wordless

My Mom, R's Oma, is concerned that R doesn't know any words yet.

I gave up keeping track of milestones around 7 months for R because it was so hit or miss with her. The books all say, "Here's what an average full-term baby will do around a certain age, but preemies will do what they'll do on their own timeline, regardless of their corrected gestational age." To that, I said, "Okay," and just let R develop as she pleased without pushing her.

But now that it comes to words, something she can't instinctively know, I guess I need to step up and "give her the words," as my Mom put it. I'm starting simple with toys that she interacts with daily: ball, doll, book, block (can I pause here and tell you how awesome HABA toys are?? R got this block set as well as Big Voyage for Christmas and she plays with them all the time. You just can't go wrong with HABA). Every day I've been putting two of those things in front of her, repeating what they are, and then asking her to pick one. She doesn't understand the question.

Kelle at Enjoying the Small Things had mentioned flash cards that have been working for her baby. Her baby is only two months older than R, but she was born full term. R will be one year old at the end of March, but technically she wasn't due until mid-May. Maybe it is a little soon for R to know how to pick a certain object out of a lineup. Or is it?



I think we'll go buy some flash cards today.