The Middle Chapters

I took basically no English in college, but I believe hubris is where one is stricken down after experiencing pride. That's me and my day from hell. Constant feedings - no sleep - lot's of crying. She's now been asleep on me for over 2 hours and I'm afraid to move. Here I am rocking, holding the baby with one hand and typing with the other. I love her to death, but 12 hours of this is making me desparate. I may never leave this chair again.

She has her 2 month appointment tomorrow where she gets 4 shots. Maybe she knows?

Today was M's first laugh. A truly wonderful thing. While she has been tracking our voices and making eye contact for a few weeks, her only reaction has been staring and maybe a smile. (The smiles have been few and far between and I'm still not sure that they are actual smiles.) But this morning, we definitely got a laugh. During the same play session, I brushed M with my hair and she made a "ga" sound. Repeat brushing brought forth the same noise. It seems strange to feel such joy at a "ga," but, other than calming her cries, these are the first positive reactions, and really the first interactions, we've had. Very cool. (Perhaps this also goes to explaining how she didn't feel different than me. Finally, I'm seeing a bit of the "her" that she is.)

With how long and difficult it was to have her, I have been feeling guilty about not finding every minute with her a joy. But, it simply hasn't been. My lack of sleep combined with her fussing and crying - when I get less than an hour during the day when I'm not holding her - has been tough. I wouldn't trade it in, but it's been tough. So the laugh and the "ga" felt like rewards. Wonderful sweet rewards.

In the just over 6 weeks that M has been alive, I'm amazed at my ability to feel totally overwhelmed and feel totally competent - these feelings seem to take turns. We've had no crazy fussy days for over a week. Yeah! But now M fusses during feedings. After some on-line advise about "compressing" the breast, things seem to be going better, but still, feeding was the one time that I could count on to be peaceful, but no longer.

All told, it is getting easier. I can't really say why other than I'm getting used to things and better at calming M. She's not sleeping any better. I have very little time during the day when I have my hands free. But, she makes eye contact now and holds her head up some and every now and again, I convince myself that she's smiling.

I had a girls' night out without the baby on Thursday. It was wonderful. I met up with 3 of my girlfriends - all in very different places in their lives. I loved talking with them. I think the girls' night needs to be a regular part of my life. I felt so re-energized and so much more myself after being with my friends.

Talking with my doctor last Wednesday, she said she would be concerned about anyone who, after having their first child, didn't feel some upset. She talked about it being such a huge change that, of course, would impact a person's feelings. I hadn't really thought of it before. It just seemed that, since people have been having children forever, that it was a "natural" transition that I should be able to make without missing a step. I felt like I wasn't doing it right. Hearing the doctor put it that way, and the fact that things are getting easier seems to be making things easier.

It all depends on the amount of sleep I get. And I seem to be figuring out M's cries a bit better. My six week post-partum appointment went well. I down to 6 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight. Cool. (I assume its all due to good genes.)

Baby is crying - must run.

M is a little over five weeks old and I've already heard this saying many times. In my limited experience, it makes total sense. When M wants to eat every hour or two, fusses non-stop inbetween, and spits up (a lot) on an unpredictable basis, the days are very long. After talking about it several times, D plans to get together with a co-worker after work on Friday. I was hip with it until Friday happened. M didn't sleep all day, ate every two hours or less and fussed. By 5:00, I was sorely in need of a break. After getting my voice mails saying I needed him home, D cancelled his plans. Of course, M fell asleep a little after 6:00 (before D got home) and snoozed the whole evening.

For the first time, we planned for D handling a bottle feeding in the middle of the night. He took the midnight-ish feeding, although I know (because I was awake listening to her fuss) that she didn't get back to sleep until after 1:00 am. Although I was awake for part of it, it was easier not being the responsible one. It definitely helped me get better sleep.

Last night, D was tired and not so up for handling a feeding. I gave him a choice hoping he'd opt for either the midnight or 2-3:00 feeding; instead he chose 5:00. After a great day (other than multiple spit ups), we had a rough night. Snoring husband. Feedings at 7:00, 8:30, 10:30, 12:00, some time between 12 and 3, and 3:30. Fussing (and snoring) inbetween. Then she wouldn't go back to sleep and kept wanting to feed, but wouldn't latch well. Finally close to 5:00, after a diaper and outfit change, I woke D and passed her over and got some sleep until 6:30. A very fussy feeding followed by a big spit up. We did another outfit change and came downstairs to rock. She actually slept pretty peacefully until 9:00 when I fed her while she was partially asleep. Now finally, the first time since 7:00 pm, other than the break from 5:00 to 6:30 am, I've put her down and she's actually sleeping on her own.

Part of me can't wait until she's older and we don't have nights like this. But the other part is trying not to wish her older and enjoy these days and nights. When she's peaceful, she's beautiful - it's beautiful. The lack of sleep and the fussing and crying - that's not so beautiful. To some extent, this reminds me of the early days of this pregnancy; counting days and weeks, just trying to get through to the easy part when its less work and worry.

On a really good note, although sometimes it is hard and I've need a break, I haven't had any depressed times in well over a week. I'm hoping this means I'm going to get through post-partum without any major depression.

I've been thinking about this and talking around it, but now I'll try to explain it. When I think about and interact with baby M, I still don't think of her as something separate from me. While, obviously, I know she is (and I know the importance of understanding that she is), it just doesn't "feel" like it yet. I assume when she's more independent it will just happen. Right now its just so similar to how things were when she was inside. Here's the explaining part: Perhaps you always felt that "you" were your entire physical self. I don't think I really have. I think "me" has been located somewhere behind my eyes with my body being something that I use. I think with the miscarriages, the separate-ness between me and my body increased. Although "it" had the problem, I was the one who had to deal with it. Through the pregnancy, the feeling was definitely there. You can't reason with nausea or that pain under your ribs. Then the baby starts kicking; totally other. But not so very other than a body that doesn't work.

Now there's this other part that is actually separate but totally dependent on me. I have to interpret it just like I had to figure out what I should eat to feel better or how much physical activity I could engage in. Of course I love her, but she still feels like part of me.

My sisters-in-law recently visited. Very cool women who were excited to meet their first niece. One complimented me on my mothering. My instant reaction was surprise. Then I was surprised by my surprise. I don't think I feel like a mother. But I guess I don't feel not like a mother. I think there are two parts to this - the whole not separate thing and my idea of what a mother is. I think this idea comes from what I remember about my mom from growing up. As the youngest, I have no memories of her mothering a baby. I'm actually struggling to come up with a list of things that mothering means.

I thought I had a handle on this idea, but I don't think I do. I had no expectations on what having the baby and being a parent would be like. Perhaps for me this is just another aspect of that.

Wow - the crying. We had a good night then basically no sleep and a lot of crying since 8:00 this morning. I pulled out the big guns - the car - to no avail. We went to a large Asian grocery store across town. Half way there little girl lost it. We got there and started roaming the aisles. That lasted about 10 minutes then another crying fit. Back in the car - maybe 15 minutes - then again - waaahhhhhh! The car is tough too - I basically can't get to her to do anything. My flails at stop lights to get her pacifier back in have mixed success.

I've been told multiple times that I just need to get through the first 3 months, then things get better. As of today, I can tell that she's changing; growing. Her sounds are different. She's starting to hold her head up and look at things. Her arm movements seem to have a bit more intent behind them. But, holy smokes, the unconsolable crying is hard.

She's now feeding more often and longer. The first day when we went from 4 hours between feedings to 2 was tough, but I've gotten used to it. But, about one in five times I think I understand that her crying means she wants more food, I get spit up on - a lot. In those instances we're both wet and unhappy. This morning's event was impressive for both quantity and distance. We headed out to the store right after I got her changed. As soon as we got home I fed her again. She seemed ravenous. Shortly after feeding and a diaper change, it was back to crying.

The second big gun - the sling - is working for the moment. Hurray. Poor little girl has got to get some sleep.

Our little girl is one month old today. One month ago we were in the hospital trying to get some sleep and adjust to being a family.

She had her one month doctor's appointment yesterday. She now weighs 9 lbs. 4 oz. is awake more and crying more. It seems to be getting easier. I haven't had a bad day since Tuesday. For the moment, the nights aren't bad. We're up from every 2 to every 4 hours and recently there has been an hour or two of awake/fussy time. But, thinking about it, the nights seem a bit easier than the days. At night, the only goals are sleeping and feeding (with a diaper change or two thrown in).

During the day, I want to get alot done; sometimes its possible - sometimes its not. Those days when I can't get anything accomplished are hard. But (hopefully) I'm adjusting to it. I'm able to let her cry for more than a few second without feeling like I'm doing things wrong. I'm working on getting over the idea that there has to be a reason for her crying.

We visited my office yesterday. My team in deep in the throes of a major project with incredibly long hours. While I don't have any interest in doing what they are doing, I do want to help out. I'm trying to come up with a plan where I can have everything; where I can care for M and help out at work (and earn some money). I'm not certain it exists. At this point, I imagine any plan that works at the moment, won't work when she gets a little bigger. Then there's our desire to have another baby . . .

Thinking about it last night, I'm amazed at how little I can remember of the actual pain and discomfort of pregnancy and labor. Now that I'm 39, I feel like we have to hurry and start a pregnancy if we're possibly going to have another successful one. With all the restrictions I had with the last pregnancy, how would I do it and care for M? D and I spoke about it the other night. One possibility is for him to take leave to take care of M if I can't. How will it be if we start on the miscarriage train again? I will start reading up on things, but I recall that it is recommended that women take a year off between having children. I can't remember hearing why. I've also never heard of anyone having any problems for not waiting a year. (This reminds me of the recommendation to not get pregnant until 3 months after a miscarriage. M was conceived the month after my 4th miscarriage - a very early one. But, miscarriages 2 and 3 were back to back months.)

The idea of trying for another child seems like tempting fate. We have one perfect child after a hard road. Might our efforts to have more somehow result in taking what we have for granted and ending up with less?