Here We Go Again

The soft lullaby music plays in the background, and I cherish the moment I hold newborn baby Poppy in my arms, and stroke her soft cheek as she drinks hungrily from my breast. It's a beautiful moment, except that it hasn't happened yet. The soft piano music plays, yes, but it comes from the laptop computer on my legs, as I type a blog post with one hand and hold pumping apparatus to my chest with the other. This isn't the way I wanted it to be. I didn't want to be here again. But here I am.


Poppy was born at 33 weeks, just like her sister, Rosemary. There was no HELLP Syndrome this time, no pre-eclampsia, just a month's worth of contractions that had been slowly wearing away at my cervix. I created an excuse, any excuse, to go to the Women's Evaluation Unit (WE-U) at my hospital on Monday night and have them check me. Even though my doctor's office was happy with the results they got from my twice weekly non-stress tests (NSTs), I knew something was wrong. The contractions stopped with my Procardia medicine, yes, but they kept coming back when it was time for the next dose. They always came back. So I went to the WE-U with the concern of "unexpected weight gain." The nurses gave me incredulous looks.

"How far about were the measurements?"

"A week."

"So you're concerned that you jumped up 6 lbs in one week, using two different scales?"

"Yes."

They took me back to a room anyway and hooked me up to the NST equipment. A female doctor with dainty little hands checked my cervix and found it to be closed. She didn't know what to do except send me home. Thankfully, her shift ended, and a new doctor took over my case. This male doctor with long fingers wanted to check me again before sending us off, and he found me to be.... 3.5 cm. THREE POINT FIVE is a BIG difference from "closed." I don't blame the female doctor for her anatomical deficiency, but she was the same doctor who checked me when I went to the WE-U the month before, when the contractions had first started. What would someone else have found then instead of her? Would Poppy have stayed in my womb longer if we had known last month that my cervix was already starting to open? I don't know, but it rubs me the wrong way.

What 7 mos. Looks Like

R is 7 months old! Not that it happened today, actually it was October 29th, but I was feeling nostalgic and decided to write about what she can do now.

I love that she is 7 months old because she is so much more fun to be around now! Crying has decreased dramatically, and smiles and laughter have flourished. She is so curious, looking and smiling at everything. She especially loves the pets. Her favorite toy is her ladybug book. She didn't pay her much attention before, but she likes Sophie now. She will grab a toy and whip it up and down with ferocity. She has started burrowing her face into whatever body part of yours is closest and gnawing with her gums. I can't wait to see her first tooth... She says words now, though she doesn't realize it. We've heard her say "hi," "okay," and "yeah." She rolls over! She can go from her front to her back, but she still needs help getting from her back to her front. She sits up with support; I'm looking forward to when she can do it all by herself. She sleeps through the night (usually.. unless she's teething). She eats pureed food, and sucks frozen strawberries or bananas out of a mesh feeder. Just as of today she has figured out how to drink water out of a sippy cup. What else, what else, what else? I don't know! I am just so in awe of and in love with my little R-baby.

On a separate but related note, R has been in our lives for the past 223 days. 223 days of laundering cloth diapers, pumping breast milk, and washing bottles. Exactly how much time have I spent attached to a breast pump? If I average a pumping time of 15 minutes 6 times a day, then I would have pumped 334 and a half HOURS total. I say "would have" because that average grossly under-represents the truth. In the beginning, I pumped for 45 minutes EVERY 3 hours-- including during the night-- desperately trying to keep the NICU stocked with milk for my baby. And though now I don't pump quite so often anymore, I do sometimes pump for as long as 40 minutes, depending on how long R naps for and how drawn into the interwebs I get. But still, 334.5 is a lot of hours, and there are many more to go until I reach my goal of feeding R breast milk for a year. I can (and will!) do it!!

Attached?

While doing most things while pumping is difficult, it is quite easy for me to sit in front of my laptop and tool around on the internet; as long as I've got my mouse-hand free, I'm good. It's a little more difficult to write a blog post; pecking out words on the keyboard with one hand takes that much longer than properly typing with two (such as I'm doing right now). I recently discovered that playing with Illustrator is as easy as internet surfing, so I excitedly set about trying to make a cute little emblem for my page.

I wanted a badge of something I could be proud of as a mom. Boy, did that open up an internal can of worms. After sitting for awhile with a blank head and absolutely no ideas, I finally decided to illustrate the word "attached". I've read a bunch of books by the Sears family, and, while I don't do exactly everything they say, I'd like to be considered attached to R. Let's see how I measure up to the Sears Baby B's:

Birth Bonding: Haha, no. R went straight to NICU after she was born, I didn't see her until 3 hours later, and I spent very little time with her the first couple of days due to my own ailment. Moving on... (-)

Breastfeeding: I tried to get her to breastfeed, but she just wasn't taking to it. She still drinks breastmilk, though, which I think I should get points for. (-/+)

Babywearing: I carry her around often throughout the day, sometimes in a sling, mostly not. But I do have to put her down to pump breastmilk for 15 minutes every 3 hours. And if I'm not lucky enough to pump during her naptime, she's usually crying for most of those 15 minutes with little I can do to calm her. There go my points. (+/-)

Bed-Sharing: We slept together when she was smaller, but she'd wake up when Senpai left the bed to get ready for work in the morning. He nicknamed her "Tripwire" because she'd have one little finger or toe touching him, and then when he wasn't there anymore, EXPLODE! So she sleeps contentedly in her crib in her bedroom now, waking up because she wants to and not because of something either of us did. (-)

Belief in Baby's Cries: This I absolutely adhere to, mostly for the fact that R is so gassy. When she starts crying, the standard protocol is to pick her up, calm her down, and then wait for the delicious burp that will usually come out. And yes, she has learned how to "fake cry" when she wants attention, but the simple solution to that is to give her attention. Happy baby. (+)

Balance and Boundaries: I think we're good here. Now, at least, though it was much harder during her colicky days. Senpai and I have a routine down of who does what when, so we each care for her in our own way. We both need to get out for date nights more, though. (+)

Beware of Baby Trainers: I certainly don't let R "cry it out," but I do have her on a schedule, something the Sears disagree with. The fact is that neglecting to adhere to a schedule for a baby is only possible if the baby breastfeeds. I have to know when R will sleep, when I'll be able to pump, and when I'll need to get a bottle ready for her. Those are things I just have to know to be ready and minimize crying time. So, R is on a schedule, but it's HER schedule. I listen to her, and if something isn't timed right, I change it. I do read the Baby Whisperer books, and they have helped this new, inexperienced mother tremendously. (-)


5 minuses and 4 pluses. That's about what I figured. The pluses are right where I'd want them to be. Even if I may not measure up to the Sears' expectations, you can't ignore the fact that I spend all day with her! ^_^ I think I've earned my attached badge. I'm very proud of it, too.




Since I was in Illustrator anyway, I decided to also make a signature for the blog. "She Looks Like a Mom" was too long, and didn't make sense to put as a signature, so I gave up my anonymity for this. I figured you would find out anyway if you sent me an e-mail. Now you know who I am. Isn't it pretty?

She Looks a Tad Uneven

Because I had so much trouble trying to get R to breastfeed, I always tried to get her to latch on to the one side that worked best. My right breast was slower than the left to let down milk, and I'm left-handed, so I had an easier job massaging and squeezing milk out of the left breast. When it came time to try to feed the baby, guess which breast I went for first? And guess which breast R never got to because I had to switch to the bottle? That's right: the left breast got all the play while the right wasn't even in the game. The result is that my left breast is noticeably bigger than the right, especially when it's full of milk.

I'm trying to fix the problem now by pumping both breasts every 3 hours as I had been, but also pumping only the right one every 1 1/2 hour. The result is a lot of time spent sitting around pumping, and I feel even more uneven with just the right breast empty. Hopefully the additional pumping time will convince the right breast to start making more milk (it was always at least 1 ounce short of what the left could produce), which in turn will plump it up to look similar to the left side. I'm looking forward to dropping the 1 1/2 hour right pump after it catches up. I hope it doesn't take too much longer; I never was one to stuff my bra, and I'm not going to start now.