Brand New Canuck

Birthday stories to come.

2009-05-03T14:42:00.000-07:00

My beautiful boy turned 1 year old last Saturday, and we had an amazing time. My mother came to visit, we travelled around, shopped, ate lots of cake, and took lots of pics.

But, I haven't had the time to blog ;-) Not like anyone is surprised, of course.

More stories to come soon!

And again with the sucky blogging

2009-04-10T08:52:00.000-07:00

I really have no excuse, so I won't even try ;-)

N. is changing into a little boy right before my eyes, and it's just wonderful to watch. He's so eager to try and walk, although he still hasn't mastered balancing *and* moving forward at the same time. He likes to wave, and he laughs when you smile at him. When I pick him up at daycare during the week, he squeals and crawls over at top speed to see me, but loves his teachers and gives him his special grin as we leave. One of the nicest thing is when we go to meet up with Hubby - the second that N. sees his daddy, he breaks into a huge smile, waves, and looks for hugs right away. It's such a sweet thing for Hubby at the end of his workday.

We're desperately trying to get ready for his birthday in two weeks, and we're also trying to get things straightened up because my mom is going to stay with us for 8 days. Since we really don't know anyone down here, it'll be a small party, possibly with Hubby's aunt and uncle visiting, but we're having a cake and balloons and hats and noisemakers and whatever else I can find to make it special.

I can't believe how fast the months have flown by. It seems like yesterday I was walking into the OR, feeling N. kick in my belly, wondering who this little person would be. I couldn't have imagined loving him as much as I do. There are some days when I'm at work that I miss him so much it hurts, it feels like I have a huge weight on my chest, until I see him at the end of the day and get that toothy grin. I love seeing him try new things, learning to play with his toys, eating new foods, and making friends with everyone he meets.

Parenthood kicks ass, people ;-)

(One thing that does not kick ass - packing for a move. We're negotiating to move into a much larger apartment down the street, so N can have room to play. Unfortunately, if we get it (which we really hope to) it means organizing, packing, cleaning, throwing out stuff, and generally going nuts. I'm hoping it won't be too bad, though, but if I don't post until, say, August, that's why!)

Wow, that was a long time between posts...

2009-03-25T11:49:00.000-07:00

... and I really have no exciting excuses. Life's been puttering along as per usual, with a few things in to keep it interesting.

The waking up overnight hasn't disappeared, but it's getting better for the most part. This week we're sick with yet another round of cold/flu, but as long as N. is happy during the day, I'm going to put up with whatever he throws at me overnight.

He's growing and developing in leaps and bounds lately. The constant babbling is now accompanied by cruising and standing (although the latter is quite wobbly). He has six teeth, three up and three down, and he's just so much fun.

A month from today, he'll be a year old. I can't even think about it rationally right now, because it's just so beyond belief. A year ago today, he was still in my belly, and I was wondering about who he would be, what his name would be, if he would in fact be a he.

I'm having a hard time processing it for a very weird reason. I'm a scientist by training, and I get genetics. I studied genetics for 11 years. I know that, by definition, there was a moment in 2007 when two haploid cells fused and made my baby. According to genetics, it was pretty much completely random which two cells happened to get together, and any other of the billions or trillions of combinations possible coming from my genome and Hubby's genome would've made a different kid. Before that moment, he didn't exist as a separate entity.

Problem is, in my heart I just can't believe that. And it's frigging with my head.

I have many good memories of my life leading up to my pregnancy and to N.'s birth. I've been extraordinarily lucky to have wonderful family and friends that have been there for many years before N. came along. But I can't believe that he didn't exist in some form before then. He's too perfect, he's my baby, he's my heart. He was given to me for a reason, and I can't grasp a universe where he wasn't somewhere, waiting to come home to his momma.

I never knew it was possible to love one tiny kid this much.

(maybe I need to lay off the cold meds)
;-)

It's 2:40 AM, and I'm awake.

2009-02-26T23:39:00.000-08:00

Why? Because it seems we're hitting a developmental stage that's totally predictable and completely annoying -

Waking up again overnight.

I'm not sure it isn't due in part to his cold, but about 1 out of 3 nights, N. has been waking up at some point between 2 and 3AM. Tonight his nose was a bit snuffly when he went to bed, but he eventually got into a deep sleep and was breathing very easily.

Then, 2:20AM shows up and he screams. That's the part that I don't like - I'm not sure it's possible at this age, but sometimes I swear he's having nightmares. That deathly afraid tone in his cry won't let me just leave him there, at least when he first wakes up.

I'm guilty of giving in a few times and giving him a bottle, since it seems sometimes to be the only thing that works. The last time I did that, I woke up to a newsletter the following morning - "Babies often wake up at this age. Tell him you love him, and put him back down; do not feed or play, as this will reinforce the behavior."

Ha.

He's also teething quite a bit lately, so I know that contributes to it. Tonight, I had to pick him up, because he was crying and coughing way too much. I changed his (very) wet diaper, and buttoned him back up. Once he calmed down, he started gnawing on his fingers again and crying in pain, so in goes the Tylenol. We sat in the rocking chair for a bit, and while he didn't go back to sleep, he did calm down enough for me to see he was feeling a bit better; I could also tell he was NOT hungry, which helped me in my decision NOT to feed him.

Which gives me two options: 1. hold him until he falls asleep, or 2. Put him down to go to sleep and suck it up (me, not him).

I've had success with option 2 in the past, so that's what's happening now. In the other room. At top volume.

*ducks from the parenting arrows coming her way*

I can't believe I'm wading into this particular minefield, but here I am. When N. was very young, and we'd figured out the feeding problem, I started realizing that I could in fact put him down without having him shatter into a million pieces. The first time was the day after my mother left; I was so exhausted, and I was crying, and I put him in the crib so I could wash my face and get a drink. He was asleep in 5 minutes - I was keeping him awake by holding him. Later on, I would put him down for a nap, or to sleep for the night, and he would of course screech. At first, I would pick him up, but then I decided to see what would happen if I left him. Again, asleep in 5 minutes.

The older he gets, the more confusing it gets - some parts are easier and some parts are harder. Now, I can pretty accurately judge if he's hungry or in pain, so I can put him down and feel comfortable that he's not either of those things. The harder part is that crying now, outside of hunger or pain, often comes from a place of great fear or upset. For example, when I left him at daycare for the first few days, he was genuinely afraid of these strangers I left him with, and that cry tore my heart out more than any other since he was born. I'm choked up now thinking about it.

Tonight, he cried for about 15 minutes. Hubby stayed in the bedroom with him because of his cold and cough (just to be safe), and I stayed out here, catching up on a re-play of a reality show on Bravo. And, just as I predicted, he went to sleep.

We were home on Wednesday because of a fever, and I put him down for a nap at one point when he'd been well fed and had spent 10 minutes rubbing his eyes and sucking his thumb. He screamed screamed screamed, and all of a sudden... silence. It took 6 minutes, and he napped for 2.5 hours.

I know there are some that think I'm doing him irreparable harm, but here's the thing. Most nights (and days) he goes down for bed/nap awake, happy, quiet, and is asleep in minutes. The times he does cry, it never takes long to get him to sleep. And, most times he wakes up in the morning, or in the afternoon from his nap, happy and smiling and cooing. He's wonderfully bonded with us, but also feels safe with his caregivers. He's a smiley pleasant baby 98% of the time, is well fed and well rested, and sleeps in his crib.

Bottom line? What we're doing works for us, and I get my confirmation from those smiling blue eyes every morning.

And, now, he's been asleep for 13 minutes (only took 15 to get him there), so I'll abruptly end this post, call it a night, and head to bed.

The first of many...

2009-02-23T17:52:00.000-08:00

Bumps and bruises, that is.

Last night I felt like the worst mother in the world. N. was playing in the living room, as he usually does in the evening, in what I thought was the 'safe' side of the room. I had gates completely separating all the shelves/cords/tv/computer/etc. from the rest of the room, and his play area is nearly completely covered in gym mats to pad any tumbles. The entrance is also gated off, so he can't get out into the hallway to play with shoes/coats/bags.

But, he found the danger spots nonetheless.

Our building is old, and all the wood mouldings are covered in at least 20 layers of paint. There isn't a sharp edge anywhere. The problem is that our livingroom originally had a door, and there are hinges. I don't often notice them because they're also coated in many many layers of paint and are completely rounded off.

The problem is that they're still hard as steel. And he managed to fall into one.

I scooped him up right away, and noted in my logical brain that he cried immediately (ie no loss of consciousness), and seemed comforted by being held. Then I saw the mark on his forehead and I dissolved into hysterics.

The mark ended up swelling to a bump with an ugly bruise in the middle, and his personality was just fine (no sleepiness, no vomiting, responsive pupils, etc etc), but all I could think was, "Oh my God, I broke his skull, oh my God oh my God oh my God!"

After I calmed down, I called the nurse for some reassurance, and she was wonderful. Everytime I've called, it's been with a "first-time mom" question, but they never make me feel stupid or like I'm overreacting. She went through the standard protocol for head injuries, proclaimed it a soft tissue injury, and then chatted with me for another 6 or 7 minutes. I asked if I should wake him up overnight to check, and her response was, "I can tell you no, but you'll do it anyway ;-)"... so I just checked him whenever I woke up to turn over, and he seems to have recovered quite well.

He's in bed now for the night, having had a really good day. I look back on last night, and I know it's normal for a toddler to get bumps and bruises, but it's tough to get used to. The problem is, N. has the personality of his uncle J., who as a kid had stitches more times than anyone else I know, and had a penchant for finding trouble. I know the day will likely come when a call to the nurse won't be enough, and we'll be waiting in triage for a cast, or stitches, but I also know I can't wrap him in cotton wool and protect him forever like a china figurine.

Being a parent is so much more than I ever thought it would be. And I wouldn't trade a second of it.

Reality checks

2009-02-19T12:55:00.000-08:00

Well, my brother and SIL are doing fairly well with the new baby, and I'm so thrilled for them. It seems as if breastfeeding is coming much easier to her than it did to me, and Baby O. is putting weight on.

She's a typical newborn, though, in that she's not sleeping for long periods, and it's wearing on the new parents. SIL's mom is staying with them and helping out as much as possible, and they're trying to let my brother get sleep at night since he commutes every day, but the baby likes to be held most of the time and I think the exhaustion is setting in.

I think they're doing much better than they realize, to be truthful, and I know from recent experience that it will get better, of course. But, it's made me re-think a lot of my thinking lately.

N. is nearly 10 months old. When my brother was 10 months old, my mom was pregnant with me. Granted, she didn't have any morning sickness, but even the most perfect pregnancy is tiring. I keep thinking about this because we do want more kids, but aren't sure when to have them.

I like the idea of the ~2 year spacing, which would mean being pregnant by the time N. is 15 months old. I also think that if we're going to space them close, we should probably have them while we're down here in the US. That way, they can all be dual citizens, rather than having children in different citizenship situations. I'm also quite happy with the maternity hospital down here, and do see advantages over the Canadian system (in terms of natural vs C-section, etc.). I don't like the shorter mat leave (a full year is standard in Canada) but we made it work this time.

So, between all of that, plus a new niece and a best friend due in July, I've got babies on the brain. I don't want to be sick again, but it was manageable with the unisom/B6, and I now know to take it ahead of time (ie before the sickness starts).

Which is why I keep hoping to get more and more emails and phone calls from my brother. Every time I talk to him, I think to myself, I know the newborn time passes faster than you can possibly imagine, but I'll be damned if I want to be that exhausted again right now.

For me, it turns out other people's babies provide a suitable form of birth control ;-)

Ask me again in two or three months, though. My answer might change.

We now break for station identification.

2009-02-14T08:45:00.000-08:00

Well, not really, but we've been on a break from lots of things in the past few days.

N.'s cold is hanging on, but is quite a bit improved. He's sleeping better for the most part, although about once every three or four nights he wakes up, and is inconsolable unti he gets a snack. I'm trying not to give in to it unless I think it's really really necessary, and it doesn't seem to be causing him to wake up more often, so I'm going to assume he's a bit hungry, along with feeling sick, and we're just running with it.

We're in the middle of a vicious cycle of passing this virus back and forth, though, and it's not all that much fun. I hate to be a whiner, but it seems like I'm getting the lion's share of it. I haven't been taking care of myself, or my asthma, lately, and now I'm paying the price. I've got a pretty nasty case of asthmatic bronchitis, and I'm back on a puffer on a regular basis (which hasn't happened since I lived with a cat full time). I think the puffer is helping a bit; I can sleep now, and I'm not hacking the majority of the time.

N. is weathering the storm quite well, and is actually napping right now, along with Hubby. Hubs let me have a quick catnap early this morning, to help dispel a particularly nasty attack, so he deserves this little luxury. We've been juggling a bit during the workweek to make sure we can both get our hours in, since there've been a couple of afternoons where he either spiked a fever or vomited at daycare, which require removing him. Kids with fever have to be fever-free for 24 hours before returning, so there've been days home.

I'm hoping that we get a lull in the illnesses soon, but I'm not optimistic. There's some sort of gastro bug going around the daycare - the other day, 5 kids came down with it in one day and had to go home. N. had one episode early on, and I'm not entirely sure that wasn't just a full tummy that came back on him, but he's been clear of that virus so far.

In other totally unrelated, but very exciting, news - my SIL had her baby this week - a healthy girl :-) It's killing me to be so far away, but I'm hoping to take N. to meet her this spring, and they're sending me pictures. She's got a wisp of red hair, blue (so far) eyes, and thanks to a double dose of the gene from her mom and dad, lips to rival Angelina. I can't wait to meet her!

And now, to end another rambly post... if I can get the dishes done while my boys still sleep, I'll consider today a success.

Sick day

2009-02-03T07:13:00.000-08:00

So, N. has developed his first real cold. And, we're housebound on a snow day (which, now that I think abou it, is pretty lucky).

He got the traditional daycare stuffy nose, practically within hours of enrolling, but it hadn't bothered him much up until the day before yesterday. Then, he started coughing more than usual, and it sounded really phlegmy.

(Phlegmy? is that a word?)

Anywhoo, it meant that last night he was tough to get to bed, and he woke himself up about once an hour with a cough. He's not used to coughing with phlegm, and scares himself when he can't breathe through it.

It was a hard night, but still much better than it could've been. We did get *some* sleep, and I figured he'd be fine today like he was yesterday. Unfortunately he spiked a fever, and went from my normally happy happy boy to a very sooky, whiny boy.

I managed to get him down for a nap, and I'm hoping the Tylenol will work its magic. In the meantime, I should either be doing dishes or sleeping myself, I suppose.

Mommy meme

2009-02-03T07:11:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the all caps - I can't be arsed to change it ;-)

1. WAS YOUR FIRST PREGNANCY PLANNED? yes

2. WERE YOU MARRIED AT THE TIME? married

3. WHAT WERE YOUR REACTIONS? excited and terrified

4. WAS ABORTION AN OPTION FOR YOU? NO

5. HOW OLD WERE YOU? 29

6. HOW DID YOU FIND OUT YOU WERE PREGNANT? two pink lines ;-)

7. WHO DID YOU TELL FIRST? John

8. DID YOU WANT TO FIND OUT THE SEX? No; everybody finds out down here, and I wanted a surprise

9. DUE DATE? April 22nd

10. DID YOU HAVE MORNING SICKNESS? Morning, noon, and night

11. WHAT DID YOU CRAVE? Thai salmon yellow curry from my favourite restaurant, grapes, chocolate

12. WHO/WHAT IRRITATED YOU THE MOST? nausea, heartburn, and pain while sleeping

13. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CHILD'S SEX? Boy

14. DID YOU WISH YOU HAD THE OPPOSITE SEX OF WHAT YOU WERE GETTING? No

15. HOW MANY POUNDS DID YOU GAIN THROUGHOUT THE PREGNANCY? 35

16. DID YOU GET STRETCH MARKS? Yes, lots

17. DID YOU HAVE A BABY SHOWER? Yes, in a box - Amy sent me a shoebox with lots of little necessities!

18. WAS IT A SURPRISE OR DID YOU KNOW? It was a surprise

19. DID YOU HAVE ANY COMPLICATIONS DURING YOUR PREGNANCY? no

20. WHERE DID YOU GIVE BIRTH? Yale-New Haven Hospital

21. HOW MANY HOURS WERE YOU IN LABOR? No labour at all - planned section because he was measuring +/- 10lb

22. WHO DROVE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL? A taxi

23. WHO WATCHED YOU GIVE BIRTH? Mike

24. WAS IT NATURAL OR C-SECTION? C-section

25. DID YOU TAKE MEDICINE TO EASE THE PAIN? spinal block

26. HOW MUCH DID YOUR CHILD WEIGH? 9 lbs 11 ozs

27. WHEN WAS YOUR CHILD ACTUALLY BORN ? April 25, 2008

28. WHAT DID YOU NAME HIM/HER? Nathaniel Amedie

29. HOW OLD IS YOUR FIRST BORN TODAY? 9.5 months

We're still here.

2009-01-22T08:40:00.001-08:00

Wow, that was a long time between posts, wasn't it?

I'm not exactly sure I can get everything of the last month down, but it's been not too bad.

We went home for the holidays, after I recovered from the pinkeye. Which, yay me, no one else in the house got. Then, almost immediately after arriving at my parents' place, both Hubby and I came down with severe gastroenteritis. Yay Christmas dinner. Not. Baby N. didn't catch it, though, and his Grammie had a good time taking care of him while I lay on the sofa trying not to die, or to puke on anything. Good times.

The drive back (and the drive up, for that matter) were both fairly uneventful. We managed to avoid all the major storms that popped up, and we took our time, stopping overnight on both trips. On the trip back, the only hotel we could find didn't have cribs, though, and that was interesting. We made N. a little pallet on the floor, but somehow he seemed to realize we were leaving him on the FLOOR, thank you very much, and screamed bloody murder. I ended up doing something I never thought I would, and co-slept. It was quite amazing how swiftly he would calm down once in the bed with me, and I know now that this wields amazing power. I'll be keeping it in my back pocket, and using it only for good and not evil.

Daycare re-transitioning went fairly smoothly; only a few days were miserable and now he's all, "Ok, Mom, you can go. I'm playing here." There's another baby who's 4 weeks older than he is, and playing with her seems to encourage him to take new developmental steps. She started crawling, 2 weeks later he did. Now she's standing up, and I think he'll be there soon.

He also seems to be showing signs of either a severe nursing strike, or perhaps weaning, but I'm not going to talk about it until I really know what it is. *Sigh*.

Gee, that was rambly. And I have to get back to my experiments, so I'm not fixing it, dammit.

So there.

;-)

He goes to daycare but I get the pinkeye.

2008-12-16T11:58:00.000-08:00

(I had a long post started about N.'s first week in daycare, but we're halfway through week three, and things are going well, so I might just let it disappear rather than reworking it)

Well, it's been an interesting weekend around here... I don't have too much time to blog, but suffice it to say everyone is right when they say to expect babies to bring home every little bug once they start daycare.

N. is doing fine, except for one little pukey episode yesterday, which seemed to resolve itself very quickly. I, on the other hand, look like a zombie out of 28 Days Later. I woke up Saturday morning with a raging case of pinkeye, and between my normal pharmacy being closed on Sunday, and the stupid WAGs being out of stock, AND finding out my prescription could not be taken by nursing moms, I've finally got medication that should work. Plus, no one else in the house is showing symptoms as of yet (fingers crossed).

The problem is that the ointment renders me temporarily blind, and I need to use it at least 3 times a day. So, I've got font sizes bumped up on my screen, and am reading very fuzzy text at the moment.

Blech. I really hope it clears up soon. N.'s first Christmas photos shouldn't include a Mommy that could scare little children and give them nightmares for months.

The kindness of strangers...

2008-12-10T05:41:00.000-08:00

... and a long-winded story on the way to it.

In the mornings, the university shuttle has a route that loops through our neighborhood, and we have two chances to hop on. On the upswing (on the :10's), you have your pick of seats, but if you miss it, you can catch it on the downswing (on the :20's) on the other side of the street.

With N. in tow, I like to catch the 8:10AM bus on the upswing. It means I can sit in the front seat, which has tonnes of footroom for me to put my laptop bag, and N.'s stuff, without having to take up two seats. Yesterday, though, she was early (like, 8:05AM), and I had to flag her down when I was in the middle of the block, but it's no big deal (she's super).

Today, I got myself on the road early, so as not to miss her, but it ended up raining as soon as I left the apartment. I stopped to wait under the eaves of our little grocery store, and tried as best I could to keep N. from getting too wet. I figured I could flag her down again, and stay dry as long as possible, or maybe even catch the 8:00AM on the downswing.

Just as I got underneath, this woman came up to me and said, "Do you need an umbrella?" I smiled, and said, "Oh, no, that's OK. I have to wait for the bus anyway. But thank you!" She then proceeded to press the umbrella in my hands, already opened up for me, and insisted, "I have another one in the car, and I actually have a car. Please, take it."

I tried to protest again, but she just smiled and said, "Go ahead, you need it." I nearly started to cry, and I could only thank her and wish her Happy Holidays.

Then, I managed to catch the 8:00AM, who was running late, on the other side of the road, not having to wait much at all.

I have trouble sometimes with the people in this city. The ones that you think would be polite, courteous, and common sensical (i.e. the intelligentsia that surround me most of the time) are rude and ignorant. I can't count the number of times while pregnant when the profs and researchers here would literally shove me out of the way to get on the bus, or to get in line ahead of me at the cafeteria. More recently, they blow past me on the sidewalk, walking three abreast, forcing me into the mud with the baby.

Once in a while, though, my faith is restored by seemingly little things - the teenage boys who go out of their way to hold open the door for me when I have N. with me in the stroller. Last fall, the woman who cleans the tables in the caf saw me with a nosebleed one day, and brought me a container of crushed ice and some J-cloths to help stop the bleeding. I hadn't even seen her walk by me that morning before she placed it on the table in front of me. To this day, when she sees me she asks about N., and I don't even know her name.

And, then, the smallest gesture of all - one morning an elderly gentleman, hunched over but tall with pride, stepped to the side to allow me to pass onto a narrow footbridge downtown, and removed his hat and swept into a deep bow.

It makes me think it'll all be ok.

The hardest day of my life

2008-12-01T15:14:00.000-08:00

Well, today was N.'s first day at daycare, and I guess you could say we both survived.

Without going into too many heartwrenching details, let's say he didn't take too kindly to me leaving. Combine that with having to be held and fed and changed by three strangers (who I LOVE, I have to say), and he was pretty angry with me by the time he got over being desperately upset.

He hasn't cried like that since he was two weeks old, and it broke my heart every time. But the teachers were great, they were so supportive of me, and with two visits for some nursing time, we made it through the day. He even gave a few smiles here and there when he forgot how pissed he was supposed to be ;-)

I just hate the fact that I have to do it all again tomorrow.

The latest development.

2008-11-18T05:42:00.000-08:00

This isn't something that I've mentioned here yet, but since it just became a pretty prominent part of our existence, I figured it was time.

Yesterday, N. got a DOC Band. He has mild/moderate plagiocephaly, which is pretty common, although it seems with him that it's not completely positional (ie, not totally caused by lying on his back in the same position). The bottom like is that there's a clinic in the next town over (there are only a few across the country), and that it's paid for by our insurance, so we decided to go for it. He hasn't been improving much, even with lots of tummytime, so it seemed like the thing to do.

He's getting along quite well so far, even though it's only the first day. He cried for about a minute when they first put it on, but forgot about it almost immediately. He even slept until 7AM this morning!

I was really apprehensive, especially about going out in public, but we bit the bullet yesterday and went for groceries right after the clinic. A really nice man came up to us out of nowhere and said, "My son just got his band off last week - you're going to be so happy that you made this decision!! It's SO worth it!" It made me feel so much better.

Huzzah! And, Woo-hoo!

2008-11-04T11:17:00.000-08:00

Deposit is down, we're into daycare as of December 1st!

(weird that I can be so thrilled about that, and at the same time be so upset. shall post more later about my "ohmygodicantbelieveimabandoningmychild" issues)

For those of you that are the praying kind...

2008-11-03T07:39:00.000-08:00

... regardless of your deity, throw a couple our way.

The daycare debacle, which has been raging on in the background, is showing some signs of turning around.

We've been entertaining the idea of places that require a car ride away, and working on some sort of solution to that car ride that doesn't involve actually buying a vehicle, and most of them have been coming up dead ends.

Today, though, Hubby decided to email our first choice (across the street from lab), just to remind them we were still here, and see if there was a chance we could get in before, say, 2010.

A spot just opened up. In N.'s age group. And the director emailed about it, saying she was just about to call us and see if we were still interested.

It's not a done deal yet, so we're still keeping fingers and toes crossed, but hopefully we'll have an answer by the end of the week.

Since I've gone back to work, we've been trying so hard to make sure both Hubby and I get our hours in, without sacrificing too much of our family time, and it's not easy. Even when he's productive with his computer/paperwork on the days he's home, Hubby still feels like he should work the weekends too, and I feel horrible that I want him to stay home. We haven't reached the point where we're like two ships passing in the night, but it's close sometimes.

And, as much as I hate the idea of not spending so much time with N., I realize that daycare means we can spend more time together as a family. Plus, it'll be good for him to socialize with babies closer to his own age.

Can this actually be working out? Please send good thoughts.

The solid food adventure

2008-10-28T10:52:00.001-07:00

(Because I still haven't the energy to post about the trip.)

Before leaving on vacation, N. had been having cereal a couple of times a day for about a week or so. After the initial feeding (which was WAY too liquidy, even though that's what the box said to do), he managed to work himself up to nearly a full "serving" (according to the box) within a few days. He didn't get any while we were at my brother's place solely because of the lack of time. We were driving around, visiting, doing wedding-related things every day, and the only chance we had would've been right before bed, and that just wasn't happening. I'd been worried that he'd look for the cereal, and not sleep well, but it didn't seem to make too much of a difference.

Once we settled into my parents' place, complete with highchair borrowed from a neighbor, we got back on routine. Cereal at breakfast, lunch, and supper, with nursing in the afternoon if there was time. N. kept at it, and did great. He tended to get a little overenthusiastic, though, which resulted in a lot of cereal gumming up everything, but he was so cute that we forgave him.

Now that we're back, I decided it was time to start on veggies. I was a bit worried, since he'd been eating cereal for such a long time, that he might not like the new tastes. Ideally, I'd like to have him try something new every 3-5 days, and I was afraid that he'd be fussy. So, after stocking up on 4 different veggies and 5 different fruits, I broke out the sweet potatoes at lunchtime today. And.....

It couldn't have gone any better.

He made the "new food face" with the first spoonful, but I figured that would happen. But, after that, it was smooth sailing. I'd even split the little tub into two servings, in case he didn't like it at first, but he ate the whole thing. The even more surprising thing was how calm and content he was. With his rice cereal, he gets a bit excited, and makes a mess. With this, he just smiled, and opened his mouth everytime waiting for the next bite. He seemed happy when it was finished, so he played for an hour before nursing and going down for a nap. All in all, a great day.

With every age, I find myself wanting him to stay that way, but I really love trying new things with him. He's a little person now, and I can't believe he's mine.

sigh

2008-10-27T08:45:00.000-07:00

I don't have the mental fortitude to sort through pictures and post them. We're back in the apartment, everything is going really well, but I'm mentally and physically exhausted.

I'll recount the vacation soon, but now I'd like to sleep for days. It's such a bittersweet thing, living here. N. was an absolute joy throughout the entire trip, and wasn't afraid of anyone he met. He made fast friends with both of my parents, along with my brother and sister-in-law, and didn't seem to mind when we left him with any of them as babysitters (it was harder on me). It was such a happy 17 days from start to finish, I'm so grateful.

The problem with it being such a success is that it had to end.

We left for the drive back on Saturday at 6PM (it's 17 hours with no stop, and we ended up doing it in 23 hours, but more about that later). Saying goodbye to my mother was so hard, especially since the baby was so good with her. I feel like such a horrible daughter, keeping her grandson so far away. She spent the day doing everything she could with him - diapers, cereal feedings, tummytime; I only got him back to nurse. I cried for the first 20 minutes we were on the road, and I'm sure she did too. We kept in touch by cellphone, and all she could say everytime we talked throughout the trip was, "I want my baby back."

And, just now, my dad left to get the shuttle to the airport. He's been amazing with N., moreso than I could ever hope for. He's a big man, and has always been afraid of babies, but he can't get enough of N. Both times he's left (this time, and at the end of his visit in June), N. has been asleep in his crib, and somehow I think that makes it harder. He leans over the crib, and I can tell he wants to look at that angel face for just a moment longer.

We're determined to get home for Christmas, and when you think about it, that's not too far away - we'd likely be getting there in a little over 7 weeks. But, I just know it's going to mean goodbyes again, and I don't know how I'm going to be able to do it. I'm grateful for my job, and I really do love my little apartment. This city, this community, is not, and never will be, my home, but the apartment is the first 'home' we've had as our own little family. I know we're a separate family unit, but in a way, there's a large part of us that isn't here.

It's at home.

We survived the first half, and are well into the second.

2008-10-22T12:20:00.000-07:00

Not much time to blog around here, but things are going extremely well. To sum up:

N. did wonderfully on the drive up, which took about 18 hours.
My brother and sister-in-law did wonderfully practicing with N., for their own baby arriving in February.
The wedding was great, my best friend was glowing, and I have no decent pictures yet, since my camera was with Hubby while we were doing wedding stuff.
N. smiled throughout everything, even though he was dragged from restaurants to churches to reception halls, in and out of his carseat, day in and day out.
N. met his great grandmother on Wednesday, and they got along swimmingly. He also went to my mother's workplaces, and met all her friends and co-workers. My boy, he gets around.
Today, he will NOT nap, and it's starting to get wearing, since I know he's tired.

I'm hoping to upload soon, but it might not be until we get back to the apartment.

It's been a busy few days.

2008-10-14T10:49:00.000-07:00

Instead of taking photos, and blogging, I've been frantically trying to get things ready for our trip, and keeping both Baby N., and my dad (who's here visiting) entertained. Fortunately, the entertainment part is easy - Papa (my dad) entertains N., and N. entertains Papa.

We're leaving at some ungodly hour overnight, and still we haven't finished packing. Hubby is home trying to get some of it done while I finish up at work.

The good thing about this busy week is that N. has taken to eating his cereal like a champ. Since it's not routine yet, we're finding it hard to fit in more than one or two feedings a day, but I think that's a good pace to ease him into it. Hubby also fed him last night, and seemed to get the hang of it fairly quickly.

Hopefully the next time I post, it'll be from my beloved province, with some fun pics of the wedding I'm in, or the party that we're having for N. once we get to my parents' place.

Yummo!

2008-10-09T09:51:00.001-07:00

PA080088
Originally uploaded by Dr. Ellen

A step forward in the 'strangers' department, and a step back in the sleep department.

2008-10-09T06:29:00.000-07:00

Well, N. seems to be doing much better with strangers these past few days, provided they keep their distance. He even was chatty with a rather imposing man with a dark beard yesterday. I'm keeping optimistic that he'll get used to my mother first, then with everyone else, during the wedding and all the travelling and partying that will come with it.

Developmentally, he seems to be doing really well. He loves to play with his toys, and passes them from one hand to the other really easily. Tummytime is always fun for him, and he's so interactive now, it's so much fun for me and for Hubby. He's also mastered the art of rolling from his back to his belly, which is the problem.

Unless he's almost asleep, if we put him down on his back, Pop! he's back on his belly. The thing is, he can't sleep on his belly (hasn't figured out how), and doesn't seem to have the hang of flipping onto his back when he's in the crib. This means two things:

1. Daytime naps are a thing of the past, at least in the crib.
2. If he wakes up overnight, he flips over, then he really wakes up, and can't go back to sleep.

The past few nights have been tough. He's waking up at least once, sometimes twice, and needs a little bit of nursing to get back to sleep. I know, I'm probably promoting a really bad habit, but I haven't had to get up at 1AM and 4AM in the longest time, and it really sucks. Last night, I did manage to get him to sleep without the boob at 1:45AM - I had to flip him to his back twice in a 6 minute period, but he found his thumb, gave it a few good sucks, and was back to sleep. (4:30AM was another story).

One of the things that our pediatrician said was that sometimes babies stop sleeping as well when they're ready to start solids (ie they need that extra little bit of food to tank them up). It also could be teething, but I'm pretty sure it's not, and I'll get to that in a sec.

So, we decided to start with the rice cereal, fully realizing it'll take a few days before he's getting enough of it to make a difference. Yesterday evening, we mixed up a serving based on what the box said, and boy howdy was it liquidy. But, we decided to go for it, and it was a huge success. He really seemed to like it, and it only took about two minutes before he figured out what that spoon was for and was grabbing it to put it in his own mouth.

I think he was a bit hungry, so I'm going to try today after he's had a really good feeding.

Now, the reason I don't think it's teething is because he wakes up happy. Absolutely no sign of any discomfort. The whining starts when he's on his belly and can't flip over. Plus, he had a real episode of teething pain the other night, when he cried and cried and cried until we held a frozen teethie in his mouth long enough for the numbing to take place. It was horrible and stressful, since he hasn't cried like that since he was two weeks old, but he eventually fell asleep and woke up happy as a clam the next day (after sleeping for 8 hours).

I'm trying to encourage him to flip over both ways as much as I can, and he seems happy with the whole process, even if he can't do it when he needs to yet. And, surprisingly, I'm not doing too bad with the "up once a night" thing. I mean, he's my boy, he needs me, and who am I to begrudge him 20 minutes?

A better day yesterday, and a slightly hypocritical rant.

2008-10-02T05:16:00.000-07:00

Hubby (again) had a last minute meeting with his new grad student minion yesterday, so he packed up Baby N. and brought him into the lab for the afternoon. It's something I'm encouraging for two reasons - 1. If he comes in on his babysitting days off, he can count that time, and he won't have to work through too many Saturdays, preserving some family time until we can get into daycare, and 2. The more N. gets exposed to new faces, the better he'll do when we go home for the wedding in a couple of weeks.

Hubby took a different approach this time - instead of letting people get right into N.'s face to say hello and coo and squeak at him, he got them to stay back a few feet, talk to Hubby, then slowly start to talk and pay attention to the baby. He reacted quite well - by the time I got over to visit them, N. was having a grand old chat with the secretary, and had gotten on quite well with the grad student.

N. is also napping much better lately, to the point where if we're out for the afternoon, and he misses that nap, he'll sleep from supper until bedtime snack, then go right back to sleep afterward. I can't even express how much I love this kid, and how frateful I am to have such a happy, contented baby. I know that he'll have his moments, and that eventually he'll have a moment that'll likely last months, but I'm enjoying him nonetheless!

Now, for my little rant.

I gave in to something last week, something I normally would've stood against on principle, being the type to do my own research and not fall prey to public panic.

I went out and bought new bottles for N. BPA-free ones.

Most people wouldn't find that odd. In fact, I'm sure there are lots of people who're thinking I'm a neglectful parent for not doing it sooner. But, like I said, I try not to blindly follow public opinion without getting the facts.

Like with the whole vaccination issue. Vaccinations do not cause autism. Thimerosal does not cause autism. I can't be arsed to dig up the paper right now, but I've read it. The original (and only) study that caused the panic has been withdrawn, and the results were false. I'm giving my baby (and any of his future siblings) their shots, because it's BETTER for them. It's like making the choice to have the C-section with my elephantine baby - if I can do something to prevent a high-risk occurrence by doing something that has a very very low risk of harm, it's BETTER.

What does this have to do with the whole BPA issue? Well, I'm not entirely convinced that BPA poses a danger in the way we use it from day to day. Most of the studies that are conducted to determine risks are done by giving large doses of the chemical in question to rats, and seeing what happens.

(I realize I'm oversimplifying; don't flame me if you're a scientist too. I get it.)

But it's like the acrylamide scare in fried foods. You'd have to eat pounds and pounds of fried things every day, possibly more food than you could physically consume in 24 hours, and eat like that for months, in order to get the dose of acrylamide that's harmful. Does that mean that there's no acrylamide in fried food? No. Is it negligible? From my perspective, considering the amounts I and my family eat, I think it's pretty safe. I'm more likely to get cancer from the emissions I breathe in on my way to work each day.

BPA is a similar case. It's only released from the plastics when they're heated to a high temperature for an extended period of time. Like when campers boil water for their tea in their Nalgene bottles (which I never would've considered doing - who boils in plastic?!). It turns out Nalgene is phasing out BPA, which I think is a responsible move on their part, considering the outdoor nature of their products. But drinking cold water in my nalgene? Again, I feel that the amount of BPA released is completely negligible.

Swinging this train back around to baby bottles - one of the brands that I was using (let's call them Brand A) didn't have a plastics recycling code stamped on the bottles, but it turns out that their original bottles do have BPA in them. For the most part, this wouldn't be a problem - feeding N. a supplement of 2oz per bottle meant I could let it come up to room temperature while nursing him, avoiding most of the direct heat. But now that I'm at work, Hubby has to feed him larger amounts, which would take hours to come up to room temp. I had bought two of Brand A's new BPA-free bottles, but they're nearly $10 a bottle. Would I spend it for my baby's health? You bet. Do I think Brand A is taking advantage of the public hysteria about BPA? You're damn right they are.

For that reason alone, I really hate the idea of replacing all my bottles and giving a fortune to Brand A, because all they're doing is sticking it to concerned parents. Fortunately, there are other options. The brand of breastpump I have, let's call them Brand M, also makes bottles. They've always been BPA-free, and they're nearly half the price of the other ones.

Could Brand M raise their prices now, considering what the rest of the market is doing? Sure they could. There's a lot of space between where they are now, and the price of Brand A. But, as far as I can tell, they're not doing that. They're just spending a little more on advertising the fact that they've ALWAYS been BPA-free, and I'm sure are getting more business because of it.

I'm pretty sure this BPA thing will blow over eventually, much like acrylamide, and charred food, and all those things. But, in the meantime, I've decided to play it safe. $45 is a small price to pay (and it's smaller than $100!)

Today was better than yesterday.

2008-09-27T17:49:00.000-07:00

(It's amazing how bored you can get when you attend a scientific conference without attending any actual part of said scientific conference)

:-)

Today we had a great day here in this quaint rainy little town. Baby N. got up with us at 6AM, had some breakfast, and came downstairs with Hubby and me so we could eat our breakfast. I was really good and didn't even have any bacon or french toast. Fruit, bagel, decaf coffee and skim milk. The baby was also slightly better with all the strangers around, too, which is encouraging. After breakfast, we came back upstairs, hung out, had second breakfasts at 9am, and then N. went down for a nap lickety-split. My baby, how I love him ;-)

After lunch, though, instead of a nap, we went out exploring... which was really quite interesting, considering that "downtown" here consists of a sum total of 3 city blocks. It's really damn small. But, we went to the gift shop, got some cute things for N., a t-shirt for me, and then we went on a little adventure.

Being as we're in Cape Cod, there's actually ocean right off the main street, along a little boardwalk. So, N. had his first experience with the ocean, which meant a great deal to me. I grew up on an island in Eastern Canada (that should narrow it down, since there are only three), and I don't feel entirely settled unless I'm living somewhere within a few minutes drive of the Atlantic. By the time we get to my parent's place next, it'll be too cold to visit, so we took advantage of what we had here. The water was still surprisingly warm, warm enough to dunk tiny toes into. I'll post pictures when we get back to the apartment, since I didn't bring my camera cord with me. N. seemed to enjoy the sand on his toes, which was great.

After coming back, he fell asleep before supper (I had to wake him up to go down to the cafeteria so I could eat before they closed). He was a little fussy for the remainder of the evening, even spitting up a fair bit, but I started feeding him again around 8PM, and as of 8:45PM, he's sound asleep.

I think his schedule is shifting because of my going back to work. He used to get up at 9AM, and go to bed around 10:30PM. Theoretically, getting up at 6AM should mean bed at 7:30PM, so 8:45PM really isn't that far off. Once we get back to the apartment, I'll have to try and keep it up. I also have to try to force myself to go to bed shortly after he does. If he's sleeping at 9PM, there's no reason for me to stay up puttering and watching TV until 11PM. Making lunch and getting ready for the next day shouldn't take more than half an hour, and as for the TV, pretty much everything is available online these days anyway.

Gee, this post got really rambly really quickly. Maybe I should snooze until Hubby comes back from his evening presentation session...

Blogging from away

2008-09-26T17:56:00.000-07:00

I'm away in a quaint New England town, at a departmental retreat (Hubby's dept, that is), and since he's at talks, and it was baby's bedtime, I'm sitting alone in our room, in the dark, with a laptop monitor turned as dim as humanly possible, trying not to twiddle my thumbs.

(I couldn't anyway; can't see the damn things)

While people don't often bring spouses to this particular annual event, Hubby encouraged me to come because a) it's a change of scenery, b) it's sciency, which I like, and c) he could tell I wasn't ready to be left alone all weekend with Baby N. The problem is that I can't actually expose myself to much of the sciency stuff, since N. isn't overly social this past little while.

It's still a welcome change, though. We had a nice, albeit rainy, drive here, and it took pretty much exactly the amount of time the map said it should. We stopped quickly for food for us grown-ups, but fed N. in the car by bottle so as to make good time, and it worked like a charm.

Luckily, there's wireless here, and while Hubby was at the afternoon presentations, I was able to catch up on some TV online while N. napped. We had a social supper, and now I'm waiting for Hub to come back from the evening sessions.

I put N. down to sleep for the first time all by myself, which leads to the conclusion that I likely would've been just fine alone for the weekend, but it's nicer to be here. Hopefully he'll sleep well tonight, and be his charming little self tomorrow.

I'm not entirely convinced that the charming part will happen, because it seems like our little overachiever is hitting more milestones early, namely the "strangers r bad, m'kay" phase. He flipped out when the pediatrician talked to him yesterday, and he usually loves her; there weren't even any needles involved this time, so that's not the reason. He's also crying at about 50% of the "strangers" that come to say hello, and that includes some of Hubby's labmates. It really makes me feel bad, because he seems to get upset at the ones that are sweet and kind and love babies, and he laughs for the ones that are standoffish. Our ped said that because he's hitting this stage early (by about two months), he should get out of it early and quickly (hopefully).

We also had a 5-month weigh-in, and my little bruiser is 17lb, 11oz. He's still following his growth curves nicely, completely back on track for his birthweight and percentile. He's starting to show interest in what I eat and drink, so I think we'll be trying some rice cereal with him soon. I'm not sure when I'll do that; it might be after his 6-month birthday, or maybe a little before, since that's when we'll be home at my parent's place for a wedding (more on that later).

But, since he's sleeping, maybe I should catch some shut-eye. I don't dare put a lamp on to knit, and the computer screen doesn't provide enough light for my tastes. I just hope Hubby doesn't come storming in ;)

My first work "week"

2008-09-24T04:31:00.000-07:00

Well, I survived. I should be sleeping right now, but I thought you might like to hear how everything went :-)

Hubby and I had worked out that Monday and Tuesday would be the best days for him to stay home, since it was essential for him to be at work Wednesday and Thursday**.

So, we planned out the days for them, and off I went to work. This week was a bit unusual, since it turned out in the end that Hubby had a reason to come in both Monday and Tuesday, but it worked out.

I woke up at 6AM on Monday morning (which was more painful than I could ever imagine), and nursed Baby N. We tried to put him back down for a morning nap, but according to Hubby, he stayed awake until his 9AM feeding. He napped after that, though, which was good. Hubby had to be into work on Monday for around 2PM, but kept the baby with him for the meeting. I got to visit with them for a few minutes, and Hubby stayed in one of the conference rooms with the baby for the rest of the afternoon, so we could walk home together.

The uni is really good to support breastfeeding mothers, and I've been able to book timeslots in one of the "mother's rooms" twice a day. That way, I can go in, pump for 15 minutes, and be able to bring that home for the next day's feeding. The rooms are really comfortable, with spaces for two moms, and there's a sink to clean pump parts and a microwave to sterilize them. I'm booked in twice, four hours apart, but when the baby is at home, he eats every three hours, so I pump twice, but he has three feedings. It means that some nights I might only feed him once more, and then he goes to bed. All in all, it works out pretty well.

Tuesday was a bit tougher - Hubby had a last minute lab meeting, which meant I had to take over for an hour. Luckily it started at the same time as my first stint in the Mother's Room, so instead of pumping, I just nursed the baby. We spent some time making friends with the departmental secretary, and once Hubby was done with his meeting, they went home.

All in all, it was a fairly successful few days. I've learned a few things, though, that we'll have to pay attention to:

I have to make my lunch the night before; there's no time in the mornings
It works out best if I sterilize all bottle/pump parts as soon as I get home (or early Sunday evening), and lay out bottles of breastmilk/formula the night before I go to work. Otherwise Hubby wouldn't get any work done during his days home, which is essential to keep his boss happy
We have to be really careful to schedule my work on days where Hubby has no meetings. Having done it both days this week, I know now that it just complicates things.
Getting to bed early is essential. I can't stay up to watch TV or knit, as much as I'd like to. Luckily, Comcast broadcasts most of what I watch the following day; unfortunately, sometimes it'll cost me $0.99.
I need to get up when the alarm rings; otherwise, I catch the bus on the return loop, and don't get a seat.

It's not easy, but it's do-able for the time being. I miss my boy something awful, but I realize I get to spend five other days a week with him, and I'm so grateful.

(All images copyright E. Boudreau)

The daycare debacle, part 2

2008-09-17T07:59:00.000-07:00

*sigh*

One thing I've been repeating to myself lately comes from Hubby's aunt (well, not originally, but it's something she lives by, and I'm starting to adopt it):

Things have a way of working themselves out.

I have to hold on to this, because if I didn't, I just might go bonkers. I mentioned before that I wasn't optimistic about getting into the daycare we applied for before Christmas. Turns out even that's unrealistic. We've come to find out Hubby's boss sits on the board (and is definitely NOT the type of person to use her connections for undue influence, so no advantage there), and she was forthcoming with information that the director was not.

There are 15o people on the waiting list.

Hubby's boss seemed really irritated that the director refuses to tell people this, and keeps parents' hopes up falsely, and I have to say I agree. But, does this change much for us? Not really. We still need a daycare that's within walking distance, because we just can't afford daycare and a car.

His boss did know of another daycare that's somewhat close to our apartment (about a 15 minute walk), so we're going to get on their waiting list too. I'm not holding my breath for a start date before Christmas there, either, but it's all we can do. We can't afford in-home care, and besides - if you get a nanny through a reputable agency, the majority of the contracts require you to provide that nanny with transportation, i.e. a CAR.

We'll figure it out. Somehow.

Keeping my eyes on the prize

2008-09-15T07:51:00.001-07:00

P9140053
Originally uploaded by Dr. Ellen

I just spent ages rambling on about how much this end-of-leave-getting-into-daycare thing is stressing me out, and I forgot to share the most important part -

I have the best, most adorable baby in the world.

Still sleeping like a champ, still happy pretty much all the time.

Every day I love him more, and I think I'll burst with all the love, and then another day arrives, and the love just keeps going.

The daycare debacle

2008-09-15T07:19:00.000-07:00

I don't like to write about this, because I don't like to think about it. Unfortunately, it's one of those things that, when ignored, rears up and whacks you in the face and then laughs about it.

My maternity leave is coming to an end in a week.

(Pause. Sob uncontrollably. Gather. Pause. Continue.)

My contract (which we're in the process of trying to get renewed with our funders) is part-time, because I had to switch when I was pregnant. Full time was too much to handle, physically, so working part-time gave me the chance to rest, and I also got to make up time from early on in the pregnancy when I was really really sick. It turns out that it's a good thing - it enabled us to stretch out the first contract by 7 months, keeping our benefactor happy. It's also a good thing because we don't have daycare yet.

When I first thought about having kids, I'd hoped that we'd be living close to my parents, along with having the Canadian option of at least a year of maternity leave. That way, I could bond with the munchkins, and when I had to go back to work, my mother could take over (because she works part-time too). Here, like I'm sure I've mentioned, maternity leave sucks, at most you can have 5 months, but a lot of people only get 6 weeks. So, I knew I had to apply for daycare.

The problem, believe it or not, is the mentality most people around here have about their cars.

CARS? Wha?

Well, the deal is this. We got info from HR about daycare options, and they were generally helpful for most people, but not for us. There is basically one daycare that's accessible to us as a car-free family, and there's a wait-list (which we're on). The HR woman who specifically takes care of child care was shocked that we didn't have a car, and took great pains to point out the fact that there's only one daycare we can get to without one. Her advice?

"You're going to have to buy a car."

Now, I'm sorry, but that's just not realistic. If I'm working part-time (which, because of the contract issues, might not last forever), we can just afford to pay for daycare. Daycare that's full-time, since there are no real part-time options. If we bought a car, between gas and insurance and the initial expense of the actual purchase, we'd be in the hole every single month, and our small savings from last year would be eaten up within 8 months.

So, we have to wait until we get into the daycare that's close by.

Which means a heck of a lot of juggling. I'm technically on 53% time, which means 21.2 hours a week. That works out to two really long days of 10 hours, 42 minutes; I'm thinking I might do two 10 hour days and then use the third day to meet with my boss for updates and planning sessions (I can bring the baby for those). In order for me to work those hours, Hubby has to stay home and babysit. We can't afford a nanny, and I'm not willing to just get a temporary babysitter, since I don't know anyone here and would have a hard time checking references in any way that I would trust.

Hubby, of course, works full-time, and needs to put in at least 40 hours a week. If he takes two days off to babysit, he needs to find a way to get his computer work and paperwork done during those days, so that he can put in for those hours. That way, he'll only have to work three or four of the remaining days and we'll have at least one day on the weekend together as a family.

When we applied for daycare, we put in a start date of November 1st, since we're taking two weeks off for a wedding in October. If we were to get in on Nov. 1st, we'd only have to do this juggling thing for 3 weeks. I'm not optimistic that we'll get in before Christmas, though.

Sorry for rambling, I'm just trying to mentally prepare for this. I know it's going to be a hard couple of months, but I also know we have no choice. We'll make it work somehow, I just want to make sure that we don't get so stressed out that it's detrimental to the baby and to our relationship.

If only we were living at home...

Brain mush

2008-09-03T07:48:00.000-07:00

I used to write all the time, and it was theraputic. Now, most days I feel as if my brain has turned to mush, and it's all I can do to get up, get dressed, and carry on simple conversations with Hubby.

And I never want it to end.

If I was back in Canada, I still wouldn't even be halfway through my maternity leave, but the reality of it is, I have three weeks left. The other side of that reality is that my grant only has three weeks left on it after I start back. We have to reapply or I could be unemployed, and that is some scary shit, people.

But, I have to be completely honest about the whole thing, because I'm torn. On the one hand, there's a large part of me that would love to have more time off, and that's the part that feels guilty about going back to work. I know that there are many many mothers here in the US who don't even get five months off, and I'm really grateful, but I feel guilty. On the other hand, and I feel even more guilty about this, there's a part of me that needs to be a grown-up with a job again.

I think that's why my brain is mush - I keep trying to reconcile this, and it melts my synapses. I can't understand how I can love N. so much, and even consider not being with him 24 hours a day. When I think about leaving him at daycare, I start to cry, but I look forward to getting back to my experiments.

It's killing me. And, evidently, making me ramble.

really sleeping through the night

2008-08-27T08:13:00.000-07:00

While we were visiting the MIL, I tried to keep N. on the same schedule as much as possible, taking into account the hour time difference, and for the most part it worked. He was nursing and going to sleep at the exact same time (11PM Canadian time, 10PM US time), and getting up at about the same time in the morning (7AM/6AM). Most days we woke him up because we had errands to run, or cleaning to do, and it worked out fine.

Once we got back home, I decided to see what would happen if we didn't nudge him awake at that 5-6AM hour to feed. Truth be told, I didn't want to, because waking him at 5AM meant he would go back to sleep, usually until at least 9AM, which meant I was sleeping until at least 9AM).

The result?

The little bugger goes down at 10:30PM, and usually sleeps until 8AM.

So, if I take into account the fact that night feedings mean I'm up for a minimum of an hour (I can't breastfeed in bed, the girls are too big, and he suffocates), I'm actually getting an *extra* 30 minutes of sleep.

He had his 4-month physical on Monday, too, which went really well. He's 16 lb, 9 oz, 25 1/2" long, and a head circ of somewhere around 43.5cm, putting those measurements at the 80th, 70th, and 80th percentiles. I was surprised that he was actually gaining weight faster, but with this new sleeping-through-the-night trick, he's often ending up with one less feeding per day (and doing just fine), so I'm hoping that will level off.

Random photo time: Here's a pic of N. with a pic of Hubby at a similar age. I said from the get-go that N. had Hubby's eyes, and here's the proof; I'm not sure if I still want N.'s eyes to darken to brown, but I guess there's still time.

Daddy's boy

(All images copyright E. Boudreau)

Surviving our first family road trip

2008-08-26T08:55:00.000-07:00

Well, that was an adventure ;-)

I'm not sure if I mentioned it, since it sort of came upon us very suddenly, but we took a mini-vacation up to my mother-in-law's last week, which really wasn't a vacation.

We've been trying to sell the family home for quite some time, years in fact, because she's been alone there since 2004 and has been desperate to get into an apartment. Long story short - in mid-July it started looking as if it was finally going to work out, with a probable closing date of August 25th, so we had to go to help.

(We also had to go to make sure she didn't throw out any more family heirlooms, which she's prone to do, but that's another story for another day.)

So, online I went to book another car rental, and we headed out very early last Tuesday morning. I'd had a few weeks to plan out the packing, but considering we were only going for six days (two of which were driving days), the car was excessively full.

Luckily for us, N. was his usual cheerful self. I'd woken him up at 4AM to nurse, so we could hopefully get on the road by 5AM with him asleep in his carseat. He decided that the excitement was just too much fun, though, and stayed awake while we packed the car, and giggled at our manic running around. We were on the road by 5:40 (which wasn't too bad, all things considered), and we stayed on the road for nearly 15 hours.

There were stops in there, and one major detour that took about 80 minutes when we missed an exit, but all in all, it was pretty uneventful. N. was good, not too fussy until later in the day, and we arrived in time for him to have a bedtime snack and go right to bed after meeting his Memére (grandmother) and having some snuggles.

We spent the next day doing legal paperwork having to do with the house sale, and packing/cleaning. Same thing on Friday morning, with the heavy lifting happening Friday afternoon and Saturday morning. Hubby's cousins were fantastic, bringing their truck and trailer and loading up all the furniture so efficiently. We stopped for a little pizza and beer around 6:30PM, which N. surprisingly showed an interest in, and then we kept going until nearly 10PM. My father arrived around 7:30PM, to take back to his place important family keepsakes (we store stuff at my parents' place, since they have a ton of room). N. seemed to get along just fine with his Papa, too.

Saturday afternoon was spent tidying up the loose ends, making sure we hadn't forgotten anything. Hubby also took photos of the house, and the yard with all its beautiful trees (it's quite a huge yard). Once we were sure everything was taken care of, we put the baby in the back of the car, and drove away.

I have to say, it was one of the hardest things I've ever done, and I can't imagine how Hubby felt. His parents bought the house when he was eight, and it has been his home for 25 years. But, it was time, it's better for his mom (who's now in a two-bedroom apartment, which means there's space for us when we visit), and it's a load off of everyone's mind.

Unfortunately, we only had the one evening together after all the madness ended, but we had a good time. We cooked dinner, helped MIL arrange some furniture, and played with N. until he was exhausted from all the giggling. Then, to bed early, and up at 5AM to get on the road to come back home.

N. was even better on the way back, with minimal fussiness all in the last hour of the drive. My kid, he's the bomb.

C'mon, Mom, can we go again?

(All images copyright E. Boudreau)

Heading out on our road trip tomorrow.

2008-08-18T12:23:00.000-07:00

Here's to hoping N. decides to sleep a bit. He did well today, on our trip to the mall to get some last minute supplies, so I'm optimistic.

Back in a week!

Dear future self,

2008-08-14T09:16:00.000-07:00

Prune juice works when you give it to babies. Really. At any point in time when you're tempted to employ this technique - remember that you will inevitably suffer the consequences.

Sincerely,
August 13 Self.

Just when I think I can't love him anymore than I already do....

2008-08-07T08:36:00.000-07:00

... N. does something that catapults him from the best baby in the world to the best baby in the universe (which, let's face it, he's actually been since being born).

Yesterday, I set out to finalize some travel plans, because we're heading home for my best friend's wedding at the end of October. It's actually taking the place of a summer vacation, because we're going to spend some time at my parents' place, and introduce N. to the huge extended family that's never met him but loves him just the same.

I figured it'd be easy, since we'd decided to book with Airmiles/Skymiles, and it was going to save us somewhere around $1600 (flights, including taxes, were going to cost about $2100, and we'd still be responsible for the taxes). My father has lots of experience with booking Airmiles, and we thought, nearly three months away, no prob.

Right.

There were NO flights showing up in the Airmiles system anywhere near when we wanted to fly. We shifted the whole vacation by nearly two weeks (changing from the wedding at the first of it to the wedding at the end of it), and still nothing. There was one option, which involved arriving the night before the wedding, but that was cutting it close. I'm matron of honour, and we still haven't actually altered my dress yet (it was purchased while I was pregnant, with an estimated size). Luckily, my mom's also a seamstress, but even she can't alter a formal gown the morning of the wedding.

I spent the day on the phone with Dad, who spent the day on the phone with Airmiles, trying out a zillion options. Then, we finally decided to investigate car rentals, and then trying to figure out which credit cards would cover the rental insurance, so we could do this for under a thousand bucks.

In the end, we've figured it out, and are saving the extra money, so it's all good. It was the kind of day, though, that would've sent me into apoplexy before, much less when I have a baby to take care of.

What does all of this have to do with N., you ask?

He took not one, but TWO, naps while I was on the phone, and each and every time he was awake, he was HAPPY. No fussing, no crying, no whining, no meltdowns.

I heard today of another baby in my extended circle (Mom's friend's granddaughter), who's older than N., but still wakes up lots at night, has reflux, and is generally needy, the poor thing. Every day, something happens that makes me appreciate that I really do have one of the best babies around. I will never ever take that for granted.

Oh, and his passport came in yesterday, too. We could theoretically get away without it because we're driving, but it's nice to have. And oh, so cute.

My baby, he amazes me

2008-07-29T11:29:00.001-07:00

So, we had an outing today, and it was one I wasn't looking forward to. We had to go to the post office to apply in person for N.'s passport, which involved pictures of course.

I was worried he'd be freaked out by the time we got there (a 25 minute walk), or that he'd scream to high holy hell at strangers trying to take his photo. But, my boy, he's a trouper.

We dealt with a really nice lady at the counter first, who went over everything, and he just charmed the bejezzus out of her. He giggled, smiled, flirted, and chatted up a storm. Then a second lady took the first few photo attempts (all failures because the contrast on the camera was off), and he smiled for her, and looked directly at the camera the whole time. When another man had to come to fix the camera and try the picture again, N. was still pretty happy. The picture that ended up being used is slightly funnier than some of the others, but is just darn cute.

(I can't believe I'm getting a passport for a 3-month old)

We even got to stop at J. Crew on the way home without him melting down, so Hubby could get some polos on sale to replace the really scuzzy ones he's wearing now. Me, I got some headbands to keep my hair out of my face and out of N.'s little grabby fingers ;-)

Oh, and his 3-month weigh in? 14 lb, 9 oz, 24 3/4" long, and he's squarely in the 75th percentile. Well fed, and happy, and still sleeping like a champ. The little gipper is napping this afternoon (just like he did yesterday), in his crib, arms thrown above his head like he hasn't a care in the world.

I hope he feels that secure as long as I can manage it.

Meltdown

2008-07-28T06:23:00.001-07:00

I had my first meltdown in quite a while this morning, and I'm guessing it was a long time coming. I can't even blame it on a lack of sleep, because my little champ is still snoozing now, at 9:15AM, like he usually is every morning.

I've been trying not to think about going back to work, but it's hard not to. As a post-doc, and as a scientist in general, it's difficult to have long absences from work, even if they're for child-rearing. I have to keep working as much as possible for my future, and for N.'s future, and my logical brain knows this.

Maternity leave here in the US isn't great. In fact, it sucks. I'm one of the lucky ones, because I know that some people only get six WEEKS, where I can take nearly 6 months. The majority of that is unpaid, but at least I get all that time to bond with my little angel. I don't like to think about the fact that if I'd stayed in Canada I'd have a year, and that I'd be paid half time for that whole year.

I still have lots of time left, but I have to start preparing to take N. to daycare, and that is breaking my heart over and over and over. I mean, he's my baby. He needs me, and I need him. I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to do this.

I also know it'll be good for him. We've been here for almost 16 months, but we're still strangers here. I don't have any friends in the city, and most of the time that's OK with me, but I think socializing N. with other babies and kids will be a really great experience.

But, he's my baby. I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to do this.

Can it be?

2008-07-22T05:37:00.000-07:00

I have nothing really exciting to report... which is weird. Usually I'm desperate for blogging time, and I forget all the things I wanted to talk about, but this time, I don't think there's much.

N. is sleeping, which is a bit surprising. He woke up at 3:30 for his middle-of-the-night snack, which is hugely early, but seems to be content in there, little arms thrown over his head with abandon.

We're trying to wean him off his extra supplement (still 2oz per feeding) to see how he handles it, since by our dinky bathroom scale, he's weighing in at somewhere around (ie over) 14lb. Which I think is still OK, since he started off life big, but we want to make sure he doesn't end up overweight before he can truly enjoy the extra calories that put him there. (I'm saying this as a big girl from a family with several other biggies).

He's now on supplement every second feeding rather than every single one, and seems to be tolerating it just fine. He'd started spitting up quite a bit (and quite immediately) after almost every bottle supplement, which meant copious amounts after every feeding; at his age, it should be tapering off, from what everyone tells me. Now, when he only nurses, there's no real spitting up at all, leading me to believe he might have been overfull.

Fortunately we have an appointment with peds on Friday, so we can go over everything with them. He's still happy, and he's plenty porky, so I figure it'll be OK.

We're also desperately trying to get more tummy time in, and it seems like he's finally tolerating that too. Before, we'd get maybe 90 seconds before he got uncomfortable, but now, it's much better. He prefers tummy time on the bed, rather than his tummytime mat (natch, because we spent 30$ on the tummytime mat, and the bed was free).

And this whole blogging from Flickr - well, it only allows for one photo per post, and who the heck only wants one photo?

Notice my chins. Ain't no underfeeding happening here, nosiree.

Drunk on the milk-a

Just kidding, mommy! I'm not drunk, I'm just silly!

(All images copyright E. Boudreau)

Again with the sleeping.

2008-07-19T05:17:00.000-07:00

6:30AM.

I know that we're reaching the age where babies are supposed to begin sleeping better, and even through the night, but it still surprises me. Particularly so because there are a number of babies born near N.'s birthday who are still waking up every 2 hours.

N. was in bed last night by 11:00PM. He'd started feeding at 9:30PM, a bit earlier than expected (based on his "every 3 hours" schedule), but went right to sleep. Because of that earlier feeding, I was expecting him to wake up around 4:00AM or so, but we were lucky.

Hubby's in there right now trying to get him to go back down for another little while, but I'm not optimistic ;-) He seemed pretty cheery and awake after his breakfast.

Things they don't tell you

2008-07-17T08:26:00.000-07:00

Bibs. Buy bibs, lots of them.
Buying fancy blankies can be a huge waste of money. My kid likes cloth diapers.
The cuter the outfit, the harder it is to get on and off.
Sleepers with zippers or snaps only down one leg are a pain in the ass.
One hour of sleep will feel like a lifetime (and actually seem somewhat refreshing).
Babies grow FAST. (OK, they do tell you this, but no one believes it until it happens)
The bigger the diaper, the less you get in a pack.
You will learn to walk around with your shirt covered in spit up and won't care in the slightest.

And, finally -

That none of these things will matter when your baby looks up at you and smiles, because he knows you're his Mom, and to him at this moment, you're everything. Because forever, to you, he's everything.

Fire alarms

2008-07-16T09:41:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been an interesting two days; we've had three fire alarms, and I'm hoping that they're finished.

It's one of those things that you don't think about. When I was in college, both in the dorms and when I was out on my own, a fire alarm was a simple thing. I had to grab my wallet, my laptop, and make sure I had enough clothing on depending on the weather.

Now, I have to find wallet, passport, clothing, and then grab the diaper bag, a blanket, and something to put the baby in, in case we're outside for a long time. Then I have to grab the baby, make sure he's secure in my arms, and figure out a way to go down the stairs AND cover his ears to protect him from the horrible thousand decibel siren that rings in our hallway.

Today, we had to do that twice, once at 5AM, once at 8AM. The first time I was awake, the second time, we were all asleep.

SO not fun.

Hmmmm.

2008-07-15T06:18:00.000-07:00

So I was right to suspect that N.'s routine is changing, but I'm not sure if it's temporary.

The past two nights he's been fussy, to the point where he shrieks if we put him down. I know he's not doing too bad, because most of the time he settles when held, but not always. Being the brilliant first time mom that I am, it took me forever to decide to check his temperature, which was a little bit elevated from his normal temp. Nothing to call the pediatrician about, unless it hangs on, but still it was about a half degree higher than usual. We gave him a tiny bit of acetaminophen, and he calmed down within the hour (without getting drowsy from the medicine, thank heavens; that would've made me feel guilty).

He still woke up for his middle-of-the-night feeding over two hours early, but went right back down when he was finished, and his temperature had returned to normal. Unfortunately it's screwed with his normal daily routine. He'd usually be eating right now, but he's been back asleep in his crib for an hour, having fed two hours early. I'm not sure what it'll mean for bedtime tonight, but we'll go with the flow.

I ended up with about two fewer hours of sleep, but that's not what's bothering me. It took me a little while to figure it out, but I'm pretty sure it's because I miss him. Usually now we're having a very chatty morning feeding, and he's up until lunchtime. I should be knitting (there are no dishes to do, hallelujah), but I'm surfing the net, trying to distract myself from the quiet.

It still amazes me just how much I love him.

Oh, we're so spoiled (and so screwed)

2008-07-12T20:26:00.000-07:00

In the previous post, I talked about how good N. is, particularly in the sleep department. I must make it abundantly clear - I know this won't last. In fact, I'm expecting the good luck to run out at any time now. The problem is, I'm not sure how we'll handle it when it does.

Hubby is very practical, and although he's not always good at creating routines for himself, he thrives on them. Our nighttime routine involves him giving the baby his final snack, burping him, and putting him in the crib. Up until two nights ago, this was exactly our routine, and it worked out well.

The past couple of nights, though, N. has been a little fussy after nursing and getting his supplement. He sometimes spits up, sometimes not, but instead of falling asleep within seconds of being put up on Hubby's shoulder, he cries and whines. Hubby tries putting him on his lap, with a pinkie finger to suck on, but that doesn't seem to work any more.

And it freaks Hubby out.

His logical brain knows that N. is being a baby, and he'll change his routines a billion times in the next 18 years (and maybe even after that). The emotional part of his brain can't grasp why 'first X, then Y' might have worked before, but doesn't work now. He doesn't appreciate that change often happens without warning; tonight he said with desperation, "I just don't get it. I did this the other night and it worked. It's worked for 2 weeks. I don't understand why it isn't working tonight!"

It didn't work because N. is a baby. Sometimes Hubby needs to be convinced that a) he's doing nothing wrong, b) there's nothing wrong with N., physically or otherwise, and c) usually if we wait another five minutes (whether one of us takes over for the other or not), things usually settle. I go through it every single day when I put him down for his nap; he'll cry pitifully (not the 'pain' cry), and within 5-10 minutes, he's out like a light.

So, tonight, N. fussed for a few minutes, and I could see the look of panic in Hubby's face, so I took N. and put him on my shoulder to rock for a few minutes. Within 5 minutes, he was asleep, and I successfully put him to bed *myself* for the first time in about 5 weeks (since this is usually Hubby's job). I think it was a good lesson for both of us, that we have to be flexible.

But I know once teething starts that it won't be as simple as 'wait another 10 minutes'. I'm trying to bank up sleep in the meantime ;-)

Sleeping through the night (now with totally unrelated video!)

2008-07-08T07:53:00.001-07:00

N. is starting to try to talk lately, and his favourite word is "hello". We're convinced he'll grow up thinking that's his name. Everytime we catch it on video, I think to myself, "I know all babies do this cooing thing, but I'll be damned if my kid ain't the cutest one!"

He's asleep in his swing again - it seems to be the preferred location for the morning nap. I tried putting him down in his crib yesterday morning, but he wasn't having any of it.

The whole sleep thing - it's really rather interesting. I'm not sure what to think of it. I barely remember the first few weeks, but I know that N. was waking up at least 3 times a night, and I do remember being exhausted. The poor little thing was starving, and kept on waking up hungry and getting little to no satisfaction. I may have mentioned it before, but once we started the whole pumped breastmilk/supplementation routine, he's been sleeping better and better.

I've been reading up on sleep patterns, and what's normal for this age, and comparing it to our friends and coworkers with new babies/grandbabies. The royal "They" says that at N.'s age (2.5 months), most babies are starting to sleep through the night, but that "sleeping through the night" really means 5 hours in a stretch. My overachieving son has been doing this for ages - probably nearly 6 or 7 weeks. He totally seems to get the day/night thing. He can be having the fussiest evening (and they do happen with him, happy baby or not), but once he settles in for his bedtime feeding (at anytime between 9:30 and 10:30PM) he's down for the count. I nurse him on both sides, Hubby gives him his supplement, and then lifts him to his shoulder to be burped. Usually by the fifth pat on his back, N. is sleeping. Hubby puts him in the crib, where he may fuss for a minute or two, and we don't hear from him again until at least 4:00AM, sometimes not until 5:30AM.

As for napping in the crib - "They" say that letting your baby nap in his chair or swing means he's not going to want to go to sleep in his crib at night. With N., it's the exact opposite. Would I like him to nap in his crib instead of the swing or bouncy chair? Sure. Is it causing a problem with his nighttime sleeping? No. If it ain't broke, I sure as hell ain't gonna try and fix it.

I'm thrilled with this, but I feel bad for everyone else whose babies need a little more attention. My cousin's wife V. had her baby girl, C., the week before N. was born, and she's having a tough go of it. Nursing isn't going well (not for V.'s lack of trying - she's really sticking with it, and I admire her tremendously), but they're supplementing and that part's going OK. C. just doesn't like to sleep - she's still waking up several times a night. One of the girls in our business office has a new grandson, who still wakes up 5 or 6 times, and one of my grad school classmates has a new son, E., who's two weeks older than N., and he still stays awake at all hours. I seem to be the only one who's settled into a routine so early on.

I'm convinced it won't last, and once teething begins I'll be a wreck. But for now, I'm getting 8 hours of sleep (in two ~4 hour blocks), and it makes me a happier mommy.

N. should be waking up any minute now, for his lunch, so I think I'll finish the dishes, and try and find a clean outfit for the day. Dishes are done; laundry isn't, and we're nearly out of everything ;-)

My happy boy

2008-07-06T14:56:00.001-07:00

This is just one of the outfits my brother and sister-in-law got for N. The socks were purchased during their visit - a box of 6 different colors of argyles, my brother couldn't resist.

I can't believe he did it again.

2008-06-30T06:58:00.000-07:00

No sooner had I sat down at Starbucks and gotten my latte, than my beautiful baby boy decided to register his discontent with corporate coffee culture, and did the same thing he did the last time we were there. My brother and sister-in-law were visiting and we were chatting, so Hubby offered to take care of it this time.

He was gone for almost 15 minutes, and I guess N. screamed bloody murder the whole time Hubby was changing him. Hub felt that he had to keep on saying sweet, reassuring things lest the other men who came in and out of the restroom thought he was strangling his own child ;-)

I was afraid our outing was finished, but a quick feeding and a burp, and N. was good to go for nearly two more hours! A successful day all around, if I do say so myself.

But we're never going to Starbucks again.

The story of poo

2008-06-28T12:23:00.000-07:00

I realized very quickly after becoming a mom that dignity flies out the window, both for myself and for my child. Apologies to those who don't care about poo as much as we do, or for those with sensitive stomachs.

Baby N. is a happy child, and he's *ahem* a very productive child. We've taken to buying diapers in the box of 216, and we still go through them like kleenex during cold season.

Last weekend, though, an interesting few days began. We went on an outing to the university bookstore, so we could pick up a couple of things and have Starbucks, which I never get while housebound. N., who is usually the picture of peace in his stroller when we go out, decided to be fussy, so I took him up onto my lap while enjoying my decaf iced latte. As soon as he settled into a happy baby, there was an ominous rumble from his bum. Being the cool and collected urban mommy that I am, I decided to finish my latte before heading to the washrooms to change him, but that wasn't in the cards. He 'overflowed', shall we say, and I had to employ a bunch of tiny cafe napkins in order to clean my lap off enough to stand up and go to change him.

Hubby and I laughed ourselves silly, and headed home, where we proceeded to call N.'s uncles to tell them the embarrassing story. I figure N. was just protesting against corporate coffee trade, since he likely prefers organic, free trade. We were home for about an hour when there was a repeat performance, punishment for telling tales about my perfect little boy, and this time it was so bad (and so widespread) that N. required a bath and a shampoo.

I still thought it was hilarious, until the next few days passed, with no poo. Then a few more, and a few more. I was starting to get worried about my little champ, but since we had a peds appointment on Wednesday, I just kept hoping he wasn't in any danger; since he was still a very happy baby, I thought he couldn't be in any pain.

The pediatrician told us that he was probably fine, but the next thing to do would be to feed him prune juice to see if that would move things along (pun intended). I think the stuff is nasty, but I was willing to try anything because we were going on a whole week.

I woke up on Friday morning, and prepared a tiny bottle of diluted prune juice. He took a few drops and made the "new food" grimace, which was adorable. After that, he didn't want anything to do with it. I kept at him, and he took five good sips, and two seconds later, he shook the windows with an atomic poo that could be heard in the next county. I proceeded to laugh myself silly and call Hubby - "That stuff works like magic!", I said, knowing that it was just the funniest coincidence possible.

Now, I have almost two liters of prune juice, which I froze, that's likely to go to waste, but it was worth it :-)

Now I get it

2008-06-26T08:55:00.001-07:00

There are so many things that I used to hear about, from my own parents, from friends with kids, even from strangers, that I couldn't fully understand until I had my own child. Now, all of those things make perfect sense.

Yesterday, N. was two months old, and of course with that milestone comes a pediatrician's visit complete with vaccinations. Oh, how I was dreading that visit.

We woke up yesterday at the usual time, and were in a pretty cheery mood (with the exception of the fact that my poor little man hadn't had a poo in about 4 days, but that's another story for another time). He had his breakfast at 8:30, and his lunch at 12:00, and we got ready to meet Hubby at the peds office for 2:30. I put N. in the Moby, since I still can't handle the megastroller on the stairs with him in my arms, and we set off.

Usually, N. falls asleep within 3 minutes of walking in the Moby, but of course this time he was looking around, not wanting to miss a thing. We got to the office, and went in to get weighed and measured by the nurse. He was really chatty with her, which was a good sign, and then he was still pretty chatty with us while we waited for the doctor to come in. He giggled and babbled through the whole exam, and seemed to be in a great mood. Then, we had to wait about 15 minutes for the nurse to come back with the shots, and those were the longest 15 minutes of my life.

She finally came in, and we determined that he wasn't getting just one needle, but three separate ones plus an oral vaccine that supposedly tastes horrible. The nurse gave him the oral one, which he sucked down like a trouper (she was surprised), and then we prepared for the torture.

I purposefully didn't look at the needles to see the gauge, so I have no idea how big they were, but I'm sure they were awful. I grabbed N.'s little hands and got into his face, and at first he was only a bit fussy. Then, the nurse jabbed the first one in, and he yelled. Thankfully, it wasn't the torturous shriek I was expecting; it was only slightly louder than his worst cry so far. Then came the next two shots in his other leg, and he didn't like those much either. I was desperately trying to keep the tears from leaving my eyes, though, because I know that he was hurting. I swept him up into my arms, and he settled fairly quickly; I then fed him before we left, and he slept the whole way home.

What I now understand is how it is that I can feel the pain of another human being. I'm a very empathetic person, and I hate to see my loved ones hurting physically or emotionally (like most people), but this connection to my child is so different than anything else I've ever known. My brain knows that he only felt the shots for a moment, and that they were for his own good, but I literally felt physical pain while I held his hands and kissed his cheeks, knowing that he was hurting. I would have taken the shots, had blood drawn, gone through anything, if it could have kept him from hurting for those short moments.

This is how he looked when we finally got around to heading to bed. The photo was actually taken 4 days earlier, but this is how he looks pretty much every night, after his bedtime snuggles with Daddy :-)

P6210039.JPG
Originally uploaded by Dr. Ellen

My little man!

2008-06-23T12:24:00.001-07:00

I'm trying this whole "blog this photo" feature from Flickr... interesting to see if it works.

This is my big boy, in his swing, happy as a clam. In fact, that's where he is right now - happily napping, waiting for our mid-afternoon snack.

I really should be sleeping

2008-06-21T04:48:00.000-07:00

N. slept until 5:45AM (!), after having gone to bed at about 11:45PM (!!), and seems to be proving my morning suspicions - the brighter the sunshine, the less likely he is to go back to bed for a nap before the next feeding.

Knowing that he was unlikely to happily go to the crib, I offered Hubby a choice - take N. in and try the crib, knowing it might lead to some fussing, while I stay up and pump (blech), or leave N. awake with me in the living room so that he (Hub) could get a few hours of sleep; the condition was that if he left N. with me for some peaceful sleep that he'd be on the hook for extra baby duty during the day ;-)

(he chose to go to the crib, and N. is napping after a bit of fussing)

This leaves me wide awake in the living room, having done my pumping duties. Our futon is very comfy, and the room is air conditioned, so I could be having a nice, delicious nap too. Why am I awake, then?

Yesterday, I took more photos of N., who is getting more interactive and cheery by the day. I'm beginning to get the knack of catching his smiles on camera (although they're on the other laptop, so I'll post them later). He's also getting used to his swing again, which means I can do the dishes and cook dinner while "chatting" with him, and he's usually content for at least a half hour that way. Some of the pics from his "swing" time yesterday were particularly adorable, so I uploaded them to Flickr right away.

I then took a few seconds to look back through my iPhoto library of all the pictures of him since he was born, saw one of him in the swing at 2 weeks compared to now at 8 weeks, and I started to cry. I love my baby more than I ever thought possible, and I love that when he wakes up crying out of hunger, seeing my face makes him smile from ear to ear through those tears. But he's getting bigger by the minute, he's lost the newborn look, and he's becoming his own little person. I can't wait to hear his first real words, and to see him crawl and then walk, but I just want to hold onto each moment and I can't. It's such a paradox. I love him so much that it just kills me.

My perfect little man, I'm so blessed to have you.

I have the best baby EVER

2008-06-16T11:30:00.000-07:00

My child is a social creature. The nurses in the hospital said that from the time he was hours old. I love him for it, but I was starting to worry about it, figuring I'd be chained to a chair with a baby on my lap for the next 6 months or so. His favourite place to nap was the Boppy, after feeding. In the beginning, we desperately tried to get him to nap in his crib, but he would wail and wail until we brought him back into the livingroom with us (where he would promptly fall asleep on the changing pad).

However, we've had a breakthrough. It doesn't happen all the time, but it's progress. We were getting ready to go out in the Moby wrap on Friday to see Hubby at work, and I of course had to put N. down to get dressed and ready. I put him in the crib and turned on the mobile that my dad had bought for him, and prepared for the shrieking that never came. He entertained himself for 10 minutes, giggling and trying to talk at the animals twirling around his head.

And, as if that wasn't enough, he's also learned to keep busy in the playpen - later that afternoon he happily giggled to himself for 45 minutes. That doesn't even cover the fact that he loves his bouncy chair, and likes to hang out there while Hubby and I prepare dinner and do the dishes.

Don't get me wrong, he still has his moments, but it's encouraging. For instance, right now he's in the bouncy chair next to my desk, trying to figure out how to get his thumb in his mouth, while I blog and eat a sandwich.

Definitely the best baby ever :-)

Things only I can know

2008-06-12T07:03:00.000-07:00

What it felt like when he first kicked in my womb, barely a flutter, early one morning when only I was awake.

How surreal it was to see him on the screen during the sonogram, and to feel him roll at the same time.

His weight on my chest, when he was hours old, and knowing he knew I was his mother.

His eyes looking up at me when he nurses contentedly, while his tiny hands gently pat my side at the same time, as if to say, I love you.

The small sleepy sounds he makes, when his tummy is full, as he falls asleep on my shoulder.

The giggles that let me know how happy he is to see my face.

The miracle and honour it is to be his mother.

We made it.

2008-06-09T14:05:00.000-07:00

DISCLAIMER!!

Part of the purpose of this blog is to document Baby N. for my own memories, along with keeping the world in the loop about how we're doing. I've wrestled with the idea of posting this, but since it's part of N.'s journey, I feel like it's important to put it down. That being said, all these events have come about after much thought and soul-searching by Hubby and me, and no choice was made lightly. We're at peace with our decisions. The last thing I need in my sleep deprived state is to be told I did the wrong thing, especially because we truly believe we did the right thing for our baby.

*steps down off soapbox*

Well.

The appointment that I'd alluded to in my last post didn't go so well. Baby N. still only put on a couple of ounces, much much less than he should have considering the time period and the ammount of supplementation he was getting. We got to see the chief of the pediatrics department who, I must say, I fell in love with. Hubby described it well - he was the most un-doctor-like doctor, in the best possible way. Part doctor, part baby whisperer, part young buddy-buddy type guy. We were hitting close to N.'s 6 week birthday, and he still hadn't re-gained his birthweight, so we all were worried. There was still the issue that I was suffering from a bit of a supply/demand problem, but with that you can never be sure. Assuming that he wasn't getting enough from breastfeeding, what we wanted to know was whether or not N. *could* put on an appropriate amount of weight if he was adequately calorically challenged. And, in the back of my mind, the little nagging voice was reminding me that my baby is building not only muscle and bone and tendon and cartilage right now, but he's building little neurons and connections and that requires enough food.

We'd been reluctant to add formula from the very beginning, because I really wanted to give breastfeeding enough of a chance to get started (which I think I did, and I *will* be continuing it exclusively until 6 months, and keeping it going after he starts solids). I also have to say that I never once felt pressured by our clinicians to switch, and they all are very quick to encourage me to *keep* nursing through whatever may happen. They're so supportive, I love each and every one of them (except for that one in the hospital who was so mean, but we won't talk about him anymore).

So, after discussing it with my new favourite doc, Dr. D (second only to my favourite nurse practitioner, CNP M.), we opted to supplement N. with 1 oz of formula per feeding, along with the pumped breastmilk. I would've supplemented with 2 oz of breastmilk, but I just physically couldn't pump often enough, or at high enough quantities, to have another extra oz per feeding. Hubby and I had been thinking about it for weeks, and agreed that at this point, the important thing is to get N. up to his birthweight and past (since he was about 4 weeks late in reaching that milestone), and that we would continue with the breastfeeding at each and every feeding. It's been challenging, both to keep him on a good feeding schedule and to find the time to pump enough to have that extra expressed milk to have at all feedings. And, it's not only finding time to pump, but I have to make sure to keep hydrated and eat extra well to up production. It's been a tough couple of weeks to say the least.

But, it's all worth it -

We're thrilled to say that N. has surpassed his birthweight!!!!! He's happy, healthy, and putting on weight at a good rate.

(plus, he sleeps better now that his poor little tummy-tum isn't empty all the time)

There's a part of me that feels guilty for those first four weeks - when I thought he was just being fussy, he was actually starving, poor little guy. The thing that kept me going (and still does) is that he's a very contented baby in between. My father came for a visit, with his car, so we went on big outings several days in a row, and N. slept contentedly the whole time (even when we weren't moving in the car, which he seems to love). He's interactive, he's trying to make noises to us, and he smiles and giggles all the freakin' time :-)

So, we'll see how things go at our two month visit... CNP M. gave us the go-ahead to back off the formula and see how he does, since it also seems like I'm producing much more milk now.

In other fun news, N. was baptized yesterday, and didn't say boo the whole time... It was a beautiful little ceremony, and we had both my Dad and Hubby's aunt and uncle there. I felt very emotional, especially after I saw one of the photos that Dad took - Hubby and N. and I - we're a little family!!! Pictures to come soon!

My baby has a supercharged metabolism.

2008-05-30T07:04:00.000-07:00

That's the only explanation I can come up with. We were supplementing him every second feeding or so, and in the week he only put on the same 3.5oz. So, life is pretty boring for me: Feed, sleep, feed, pump, feed, sleep, feed, pump. He's getting a supplement with every single feeding, and we have another appointment on Monday to see if he's improving. The good thing is he's at least gaining, and no one is pressuring me to formula-supplement yet.

We have a gameplan for the fattening up... now we just have to tackle the sleeping... because it looks like my little prince is already getting spoiled, and he likes my lap much better than his crib. But that's a story for another day.

In the meantime, let's see if we can get some pictures up!

One day old, deep in thought.

Resting with Mommy - his favourite spot.

Sound asleep - this doesn't happen all the time

After our first tub bath, in a homemade hoodie towel from Grammie.

(All images copyright E. Boudreau)

Still behind the 8-ball

2008-05-22T10:10:00.000-07:00

N. had his weight check appointment yesterday, and while he's doing OK, he's not where our clinician would like him to be.

In almost two weeks, he put on about 6 ounces. They tell me that they like to see babies put on about an ounce a day, which would've meant he needed to put on 13 oz in the time between visits.

He's feeding at least every 3 hours, and according to the lactation consultant we spent time with yesterday, he's got a really good latch. It seems like it's a supply issue from my end, which is disappointing.

(I know, I know, it's not my fault. But I feel like it is.)

So, we've got another appointment in a week, and we've re-rented the hospital-grade breastpump in order to supplement him again. I'm not sure where I'm going to find time to pump anything significant, since he usually takes nearly an hour to feed, and I need time to rest in between, but we'll figure it out. Hubby will be doing the supplementing via tube, and while it won't actually take the place of any feedings (which would potentially give me a few extra hours of uninterrupted sleep), it's still a big help. Between that and his enthusiastic participation in diaper duty, I hereby decree that he is the Best! Husband! EVER!

(Oh, and is anyone wondering why there are no pictures? Well, they're all on my computer, which isn't playing nicely with the internets lately, so I'm posting from Hubby's. I'll get on it, I promise.)

Oh, what a long night.

2008-05-21T06:53:00.001-07:00

Just after I told my mother that N. had started to learn the difference between day and night.

Oh, so tired.

Please go easy on the exhausted new mom...

2008-05-20T08:44:00.000-07:00

You'd think that this would be something people who work in maternity wards would know, wouldn't you? Unfortunately we got the short end of the stick on the second night we were in the hospital.

When N. was born, they took him to the NICU for about half an hour, just to make sure he was breathing OK. That's where they weighed him, and he was 9 lb, 11 oz, which is his official birth weight. Once we went up to the maternity floor, though, he was weighed on a different scale for the rest of our time in the hospital. Half an hour after he was 9 lb, 11 oz, they put him on the new scale and he was 9 lb, 7 oz. Now, no one should be silly enough to believe he lost 4 oz in half an hour. With me so far?

So, every night the babies are weighed to make sure they aren't losing too much weight (>10%), even though a small loss is normal for pretty much all newborns. The problem with N. was that they were calculating his weight loss based on the first birthweight of 9-11, rather than 9-7. So, the second night when they went up to weigh him, they calculated that he'd lost nearly 13% of his birthweight (when in actual fact it was right around 10%).

I understand that with small babies, and sick babies, weight loss can signal severe dehydration and lots of other problems. N. was neither small nor sick, though, and wasn't showing any signs of anything. The nurse that was on duty that night, though, only saw that one number, 13%, and came into the room at half past midnight with a doomsday attitude. She felt he wasn't getting anything from the breastfeeding, and that we had to make a decision then and there. I was exhausted, Hubby was exhausted, and she was insistent that we start formula feeding him; she made me feel like my baby was in grave danger, and I panicked. I still wouldn't allow them to bring bottles in, though, so we tube-fed him 15mL. I spent the rest of the night lying awake, feeling like a failure.

The next morning, though, the pediatrician came in, and said that N. was doing just fine for the time being. His suggestion was to pump more breastmilk, and feed that mixed with breastmilk via tube, if N. continued to lose weight, and then reassess, although he didn't seem to understand the discrepancies with the scales, and that N. hadn't actually lost more than 10%. No one seemed to listen to us on that one.

I managed to arrange to meet with the lactation consultant that day, and she was amazing. She realized that there was a weight discrepancy, did the calculations herself, and reassured us that we were doing just fine. She did encourage me to pump and supplement that way, but didn't feel that adding formula was necessary. She spent most of the afternoon with us, and then came back Tuesday morning, and spent the day helping us before we were released from the hospital.

Unfortunately, the day we were released, we had a different pediatrician come in to do the assessment, and he was horrible. He felt that I was being foolish not switching to formula right away, and he made me feel about as smart as a four-year-old child. I nearly started crying, but he was so obnoxious that I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. I had been reassured by the lactation consultant that things would be fine if I continued to breastfeed on demand, and I had set up appointments to get N. weighed with our usual pediatricians several times within the first week. We've had three appointments so far, and N. continues to put on weight. He was nearly back up to his birthweight on May 8th, and we're going in again tomorrow.

Now, one thing I've learned (and learned very quickly) is that there's really no point in being absolutely hard-lined about anything when it comes to raising a baby. I know now that I have to be flexible about everything, both for N.'s health and my own sanity. I didn't pitch a fit when I had to supplement with tube-fed breastmilk, and I didn't pitch a fit when one of the nurses gave us a hospital pacifier. I understand that for some people, co-sleeping works, and for others, cribs and bassinets work. Some moms wear their babies all day long, some have swings and bouncy chairs. I'm open-minded as much as I can be, and I try to listen to what the professionals tell me (provided they deliver their message in a professional manner, and respect me as a parent and an adult, and as a scientist who may invest herself a bit more into the research and information).

Let's just hope tomorrow's appointment is a good one :-)

Recovery

2008-05-11T13:33:00.000-07:00

We spent a good long time in recovery, which was surprisingly quiet. There was one other mom in the next bed, but they were speaking Italian, so we did feel like we were in our own little world. Nurse L. was great, but was run off her feet - since I have drug allergies, they couldn't use the normal painkiller they give to C-section patients, and the pharmacy was dragging its feet in getting my substitute. She kept checking on us, making sure that my spinal block hadn't worn off yet before the medication arrived. Finally, about an hour and a half later, it did, and we were ready to get on the road. I thanked her profusely as they were wheeling me out, and we were on our way.

We were interrupted for a second, though; security measures at the hospital require all newborns to be tagged with an ankle bracelet that locks down the doors when you get within 5 feet of them, until the baby is released from the main computer. Someone forgot to release N.'s ankle bracelet, and we held up traffic for about 7 minutes while they got someone to check him out of the computer. It was kind of funny, and it made me feel very secure (each baby and mom and dad are also given bracelets at the moment of birth with a unique code, which they check everytime they bring a baby to its parents) . So, after all that, off we went.

Like I had mentioned, before N.'s birth I'd never spent a night in the hospital. The most that had happened to me was a cortisol IV for a few hours to bring down an allergic reaction. So, Friday afternoon I found myself in a hospital bed with a newborn beside me in his bassinet, and I was unable to walk around, pick him up on my own, or even arrange my own pillows.

People who know me will vouch for the fact that I can be extremely, well, let's say relaxed. I don't want to say outright lazy, but I've been known to indulge when Hubby wants to do things for me. That being said, I don't like to be helpless. I enjoy knowing I could do things, but don't have to at the moment. So, being laid up in the hospital was really difficult for me.

The nurses and PCAs, though, were wonderful angels. After spending all of Friday in bed, they came in at about 5AM on Saturday morning and told me it was time for me to get up. They reassured me that, even though it was going to be hard, I could do it. I did believe them, somewhere deep down, but it was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do physically. Getting up to the washroom, which was 4 feet away from the bed, took me about 30 minutes. I made it eventually, and they were so encouraging the whole time. I also never once felt embarrassed, or undignified, even though I was pretty helpless.

After that, I collapsed back into bed. I've never been so grateful to lie down ;-)

The adventure begins.

2008-05-03T14:07:00.000-07:00

N. is napping, just a little angel face in his crib, and rather than sleeping myself I thought I should start getting everything down before it evaporates into thin air.

I think a good place to pick up the story is at our 40 week appointment, which we had on Monday (the day before my due date). We ended up seeing another different OB in the practice, and I fell in love with her immediately. Which is strange, considering the conversation we ended up having. She wasn't the one that ordered the sizing ultrasound, but she'd conferenced with the OB that had, and we had to have a serious talk about what should be done.

N. was measuring +/-10lb, and there were no signs of labour as of 40 weeks. The OB wanted to make sure we understood the risks of labouring with a big baby, and what might happen. Beyond a long labour, there's also the chance of shoulder dystocia, which then often leaves only one option - breaking baby's collarbone to get him out. I can't remember the medical terms for the potential conditions resulting from the clavicle fracture, but we were weighing probabilities pretty carefully. Because it looked like his estimated weight could be over 5000g by the time I went into labour (the cutoff for non-gestational diabetics), I was offered the choice of a C-section, rather than starting labour and seeing what happened.

Hubby and I talked and talked about it, and in the end, we decided to schedule the section. The risks from a section were smaller than those from the possible dystocia and fracture, and tend to affect future pregnancies, whereas the risks of a normal delivery affected *this* baby. We felt that it was our responsibility as parents to ensure the safety of this baby, rather than put him at risk for the sake of future babies (which I hope there are many!). So, I told them to go ahead and schedule the section, which ended up being Friday morning.

Then, of course, the false labour contractions kept on coming. And coming. And I started to worry that I would go into labour *before* Friday. I kept off my feet, and obsessively tracked contractions, but fortunately by the time I woke up on Friday morning, I was still pregnant, so we hopped a cab and headed into the hospital.

I'd spent the majority of the week trying not to think too much about the surgery, because up until that point I'd never spent a night in the hospital in my entire life. I'd never put on a hospital gown and tried to maintain my dignity, never ridden on a gurney, never been hooked up to monitors, nothing. Then, all of a sudden, they're handing me a lovely hospital ensemble in light blue with back ties and telling me to climb up so they can start my IV. I was hooked up to monitors for both Baby N.'s heartrate, and my contractions, and they blew two bags of lactated ringers into me before I could even notice. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't, so Mom and Hubby kept me distracted.

At 8:45, they walked me into the OR to start the spinal block, and all of a sudden I was nervous. But, I had a terrific nurse, Nurse L., who was funny and kind and talked to me and looked me straight in the eye all the time, so I felt calmer. She held my shoulders and breathed with me while the anesthesiologist put the catheter in, and it was much better than I'd expected. I was still scared of the actual procedure, though; I've had serious dental work before where I was supposed to be both sedated AND frozen, but neither was true and the surgeon didn't bother to check. The anesthesiologist was thorough, and kind, and I guess pretty darn good at her job because all of a sudden I couldn't move my legs. I got oxygen, and they brought Hubby in, and we were ready to go.

I didn't feel much of anything until the demerol took effect, and then I was pretty sick for about 20 minutes. Hubby and the anesthesiologist were right there with cold cloths and basins and everything else a girl needs when she can't do anything but turn her head to the side. Fortunately that passed, and all I felt was pushing and tugging. I kept breathing, and trying not to think about what was happening to my innards on the other side of the drape. Then, they warned me that a lot of pressure and tugging was coming, and I swear it felt like I was in a plane going through the worst turbulence I've ever experienced; even so, I wasn't scared. Then, I heard some suction, a lusty cry, and they told me I had a son, a big healthy boy.

And I cried.

I looked at Hubby, he looked at me, and we were both just so happy that we didn't have to say anything.

They cleaned him up, brought him over, and we spent a few minutes with him while they started to put me back together. He had to spend about a half hour in the NICU because they were afraid of meconium aspiration, and he still had a bit of fluid in his lungs, but he met us back in recovery quick-smart. I couldn't believe I had this big, almost 10 lb bundle in my arms, when just a few hours earlier, he was in my belly kicking and squirming.

I have a son.

Baby!

2008-05-01T11:24:00.000-07:00

Baby N. was born on April 25th, 10:14AM by C section, and weighed in at a whopping 9 lb, 11oz. We're doing great, and will post more once things settle in. The birth story is still fresh in my mind, and I'd like to get it down soon, before I turn into a complete sleep deprived bowl of mush. XOXO

The baby that ate Manhattan

2008-04-19T10:47:00.000-07:00

Mom is nearly here - she's due to land in 45 minutes, and Hubby is waiting for her at the airport. I'm just hanging out, trying to rest, and waiting. So far, the Braxton-Hicks have been happening every day, but nothing approaching regular. Hopefully they'll wait at least another day, so I can have just a little time with Mom before the chaos sets in.

I don't want Bean to wait too long, though, because it would seem that:

THIS BABY IS BIG.

The latest OB that I saw (who wasn't my favourite, if I'm to be truthful), ordered a sizing ultrasound, because she felt I was measuring really big for my dates. Now, I know that sizing ultrasounds are fairly inaccurate, and even moreso the closer to term one gets, but it was still interesting.

Bean is measuring 10lb, +/- 15% (which means a range of 8.5lb to 11.5lb).

HOLY CRAP.

I'm trying not to panic too much, because it is just an estimate. Plus, one of Mom's friends has a new granddaughter, who entered the world three weeks ago at 10lb 3oz with no drugs and only 33 minutes of labour. I'm also told that bigger babies tend to eat better and sleep better sooner ;-)

Either way, the ultrasound was fun, because we got to see lots and lots of movement, detailed pics of the heart and the digestive tract, and little hands and feet. Hubby was enthralled, and it was almost more fun to watch him watching the screen.

The official due date is Tuesday, and I'm hoping to be able to check into the hospital during a weekday... that's not too much to ask, is it?

Give us this day, our daily contractions.

2008-04-09T12:16:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm pretty sure they're still false labour, but this baby is getting quite the workout. What used to happen once every few days is now happening numerous times daily.

These contractions are visible - Hubby says my belly gets more compact and protrudes (like it wasn't protruding to begin with. Ha.). They last quite a while, sometimes 10 or 15 minutes. And, the most fun part is that when they finally release, often I get a boot from Bean, as if to say, "Hey, that wasn't very nice! Trying to sleep in here!"

I know that this means nothing in terms of true labour starting, but I'm hoping they're the harbinger of something. I figure since they more or less started up out of the blue, maybe they're a sign that everything is gearing up for the "really big shew" (a la Ed Sullivan).

Mom's starting to get worried about the possibility of my going early, and how she should deal with that. Hubby's boss was really matter-of-fact about it - "Pay the fee, change the ticket, and don't worry about it!"; that was pretty much my reaction, too. A last minute change is a last minute change, whether or not she decides in her own head now that she'll switch her ticket if need be. I'm trying to be zen about the whole thing - I would really like her to be at the hospital with me for the extra support, but even more importantly, I want her here when we're home for those first few weeks. If I go early and she waits, that means more days with her here *after* Bean is born, rather than lots of days of her keeping her very pregnant daughter occupied and not jumping off cliffs because of being past due date ;-)

I did tell her that if I go early and she's not here, I'll likely be calling her all hours of the day and night, so she won't get any sleep either. I don't know how much Dad will like that, but that's tough ;-)

Whoops, there goes another one. Maybe this one will pass before I have to pack up and go home. Bean seems to be trying his/her damndest to push his/her feet through this one.

38 down, 2 to go

2008-04-07T11:35:00.000-07:00

Stats from the OB appt this morning:

Bean grew one more cm (I don't remember the actual measurement).

I put on 1 lb.

Blood pressure was 112/72, but that was interesting. I had a new person take my vitals at the very beginning, and I didn't entirely trust her technique - she said 120/80, and during the appointment, the midwife found that suspicious (since my diastolic is always 70 or less).

The Braxton Hicks are still happening (had a 10 minute run with one last night), but they're still pain-free. I didn't get checked this week, so I don't know if I'm dilated any further, but we'll see next Tuesday at our next appointment.

We had a bit of a re-arranging party last night - I was looking around the room and realized that the crib wasn't in the most efficient space, and Hubby (bless his heart) was willing to start moving furniture at 10pm (don't worry, it all slides pretty silently, so our downstairs neighbors weren't disturbed). Now the room is much more open, and it's easier to walk around. I'm hoping that these urges to do major moving and cleaning are few and far between. In fact, I'd be happy if last night was it ;-)

Other than that, I'm just trying to psych myself up to keep on working for the next two weeks. It's really wearing with the lack of sleep, but I know I'll feel proud of myself for sticking it out. That, and the fact that every additional day I work on this end means another day of leave I get to take on the other end!

On taking things for granted.

2008-04-05T07:33:00.000-07:00

Since the age of 15, exactly once each year I get a monster head and chest cold, often with a sinus infection. Usually I'm laid up for a week, which made things difficult in undergrad; I never wanted to miss class. In grad school, I worked in a lab where it was OK to take a couple of days off to recouperate, but it often still hung on for four or five days.

The worst part of these episodes, though, has always been getting enough sleep. Being propped up on pillows is never comfortable, and only works when my bed is in a corner. With each and every cold, about halfway through I always think to myself, "I'll never ever take a good night's sleep for granted again." That usually lasts about six weeks, and then I don't think about it again until the next time I'm sick.

Now, though, I'm pretty sure I'll never take it for granted again. I haven't slept for more than 90 minutes at a time since last August, and to tell you the truth I'm not entirely ungrateful. I've been able to function at work for the past few months relatively unchanged, and it's pretty good practice for once Bean comes. I'm just looking forward to getting 60 minutes of sleep at a time that's relatively pain-free.

I have both friends and family members who suffer from ailments that involve chronic pain, and while I can't say that I'm anywhere near their level, I've had a taste of it, and they will always have my support and respect for living their lives with dignity. With this pregnancy (which I will admit has been relatively uneventful), I've developed a lot of hip/pelvic/leg pain, and it's really starting to wear me down. Each time I wake up at night, sharp pain works its way from my waist to my knees, and holds on until I get up and walk around. It's more that pain than a constant need to go to the bathroom that's interrupting my sleep, and I can only guess that it's from carrying nearly all of my pregnancy weight out front. I can honestly say I would give up chocolate for a year if I could re-gain the ability to wake up, roll over in bed, and go back to sleep painlessly.

I know that the last time I spent a lazy Saturday in bed, which was about 6 months ago, was likely my last for a few years, and I'm OK with that. I know it'll eventually happen again, and I'm pretty sure that I'll appreciate it wholeheartedly next time :-)

37 down, 3 (?) to go

2008-03-31T13:00:00.000-07:00

Weekly appointments are SO much fun (at least, they're an excuse to be late for work).

Our 37 week appointment was today, and all is well. The weight issue seems to have settled itself (~1lb this time), and blood pressure was great as always - 118/70. We're in the midst of meeting all possible on-call practitioners, and today's was just as nice as the rest of them. She wasn't quite sure if what she was feeling in the downward position was the head (since I guess Bean's butt, pointing upward, is just as hard as his/her head), so we got a really quick, 45-second ultrasound. Bean is indeed still head down, and quite head down as a matter of fact (my regular OB did tell us this last week, but today's clinician wanted to double-check.

We also determined that I've been having frequent Braxton-Hicks, although they're not at all painful. Hopefully that's a good sign of things to come ;-) No internal exam today, though, which is OK with me. The midwife today did say I would likely know when labour starts for real, and not to worry about examining each and every contraction to determine if it's true or false. (Like that's going to get me to stop paying attention! Ha!)

The hospital bag is packed, I just need a few diapers just in case. The childbirth class from the hospital did say they'd be provided, but I'd rather have extras.

I'm just about ready to get the show on the road. The swelling in my feet isn't as bad as it was last week - I'm really careful to get them up when I'm home. We did spend a good portion of Saturday out walking, before going over to my boss's place for dinner, and it tired me out, but the feet survived. I also got a replacement pair of sandals, since my last pair didn't make it to the move, and I didn't have any last summer :-( They were a treat, they were on sale, and I'm slowly getting used to them. I'm hoping the better support they give will help a bit with the back and pelvic pain that's pretty incessant right about now.

Sleeping also isn't working out too well, but everyone says it's good preparation ;-) I'm averaging about an hour at a time, then I have to get up and walk around to shake out the strain on my left hip. I'm hoping that the hour-at-a-time sleep that will be coming up once Bean is here will be a bit more pain-free ;-)

Ok. I'm thinking that's enough whining for the day. I think I'll catch the next bus home, and figure out some din-dins. I don't know if there's good TV on tonight, but I started the second sleeve on my baby sweater, which should be entertainment enough.

36 weeks and counting.

2008-03-24T12:30:00.001-07:00

Well, we had our 36 week appointment this morning, and it was interesting to say the least.

Blood pressure: 120/68. A bit higher than my usual, but moving around is getting a bit more strenuous, and I didn't have my 15 minutes of recovery time that normally comes after hoofing it to the doc's office.

Weight: Well, no numbers for you there, but suffice it to say I don't trust anything anymore. I hadn't found out my weight during the last appointment two weeks ago, because I don't look at the scale and I didn't think to ask. Turns out two weeks ago, I'd lost a pound from the previous appointment, and this week it seems I'd gained nine. Which SO isn't possible, considering I haven't changed my eating habits a whit. I don't believe the loss that was recorded during week 34, and I sure as hell don't believe that gain this time around. The problem is that each appointment is in a different exam room, with a different scale. I'm convinced that there's something that's not agreeing. The bottom line is - I didn't get lectured, and if I can go through the pregnancy putting on around 35 lb, I'll be happy about it. At least it's not 50 or 60.

Bean is doing well, had a nice strong heartrate around 150 and was kicking. We also did the Group B strep test, and I should have the results by the end of the week. Discussion about that led to discussion about my allergies, and whether or not I'm sensitive to penicillin. The bottom line is that I don't know, even though I know I'm allergic to a crapload of other stuff. Either way, if I end up needing the antibiotics, they're administered in the hospital, and I'll be watched very carefully.

The doc also did an exam on my request, since my mom has a history of preterm labour (and I'm sort of hopeful at this point ;-)). Turns out I'm dilated 1cm, and my cervix, although plenty hard, is a bit short. Now, the OB says this means nothing, and I could stay this way for weeks, but a girl can dream, can't she?

I've got my suitcase about 70% packed and we've got pretty much everything we need (with the exception of diapers, but the pharmacy is 2 blocks from work). I'm ready, but I'm not ready. And with my luck, this kid'll go weeks over.

Should be interesting ;-)

The latest cliche

2008-03-21T06:59:00.000-07:00

(In the interest of full disclosure, I have to say I wasn't going to blog about this, but last night, Hubby said, "Gee, this sounds like something someone would blog about." So, Dearest, I know you know I'm blogging ;-) and everyone else, if you consider this to be TMI, you can blame him!)

The most recent thing that's developed is swelling. And, let me tell you, it freaked me out ;-) One night, I'd spent more of the evening on my feet than normal, and when I finally sat down to catch up on my TV, I looked at my ankles and flipped. Up until this point, I've been wearing my normal shoes, but was considering buying some comfy clogs or sandals for the summer. Now, it looks like I'm going to be forced in that direction. The good thing is, if I prop my feet up (especially while I'm sleeping), it goes back down to nearly normal. I have no facial swelling or severe hand swelling, which I'm told is the kind to be nervous about, so that's good too. My 36 week appointment is on Monday, so we'll double check everything then.

However, there's one huge (no pun intended!) advantage to this whole situation (and this is the TMI part) - no more shaving nicks on my ankles!

Ok, I figured it was time for a picture, although it's not of me. The knitted baby set arrived in the mail yesterday, so I decided to take a pic of it, along with the croched blanket, that have been sent from those family friends. The set ended up including a sweater, pants, a hat, and three pairs of socks in varying sizes. It looks blue in the picture, but it's more towards the lavender end of things; she sent the pattern picture (along with spare yarn, the ball band with washing instructions, and spare buttons) and the baby does look like a girl with a hat on, but it's pretty unisex without it. I'll embroider either flowers or trucks on it depending on the outcome.

The work is beautiful, it's very fine yarn, and I'm just so in love with it. Right now my brain can't handle such fine work, but I'm definitely happy for someone else to do it!

Oy.

2008-03-17T12:24:00.000-07:00

I guess this is what they mean by third trimester exhaustion. It's been nearly a month since I posted, and I have no excuse except that my brain is mush and I'm too tired ;-)

(Right now, it's too late in the day to start the next phase of my experiment, because I don't have the stamina to stay late, so I'm blogging, dammit.)

Let's see, what is there to report? Oh, right.

The shopping. :-)

We've taken two major trips, and between the two outings, we managed to amass everything that seems to be necessary to house this kid when it comes home. Actually, I think we've got way more than that, because I read recently that if you have boobs and a bed, you're set - Baby eats and baby sleeps ;-)

We have a crib set up, since I am way too afraid to co-sleep. No bassinet, because there just isn't room for both, and I figure a bassinet will be outgrown very quickly. We've got a stroller and carseat, a diaper bag and a swing. We have a little bathtub, and a rubber ducky. Our rocking chair *should* be arriving in about a week, although the order is still 'processing'. I indulged in a breastfeeding pillow, and a couple of pieces of clothing to fill in the tiny gaps in what's arrived from home already.

We're really lucky to have our families. Even though we're not living at home, and there won't be a baby shower (both Mom and I have a moral objection to absentee showers - I would feel so guilty), people are still giving Mom stuff to send or bring down to us. A dear old family friend crocheted a lovely baby afghan, and knit two pairs of booties. My Dad's cousin (who is more like his sister) has made us a knit blanket, and bought a half dozen onesies. Mom has sent down everything she had from when we were babies, so we have enough little undershirts and things, along with swaddling flannels and homemade hooded towels, not to mention facecloths and bunting bags. She's saving the gender-specific stuff until we know what Bean is, and then I'll either be innundated with hand sewn dresses or sailor suits :-)

We also found out that one of Hubby's aunts by marriage has been going gangbusters on the outfits. I've met this woman a few times, and we have a *complete* language barrier between us; the funny thing is, the last time we visited, she and I had a "conversation" for an hour and a half about knitting :-) My mother in law told us that Aunt G. had made a little knitted outfit, and had enough yarn left over that she decided to supplement it with a hat and booties. Then we come to find out that she's made socks (and possibly sweaters) in 3 or 4 sizes, so we'll have one as Bean grows through each stage.

One of my best friends at home also sent me a "baby shower in a box", which had a tiny bit of lots of different things - a tube of diaper cream, a tiny pack of washcloths, a paci clip, a rattle, a bib, a pair of socks, etc. all wrapped individually and put into a shoebox. It made for such a fun experience, opening each little package. I know it kills her that we're so far away, but I try to send her pics as often as I can, and keep her updated on what it's like to go through pregnancy. She's getting married in October, and we can't wait to go home for the wedding.

I can't believe that there are only five more weeks left. I have all of the material things that I could need or want, but they're not what's bursting at the seams. I'm bursting to meet this little person, see who's been bruising my ribs, hold the little feet that make my belly jiggle and my husband giggle like a five-year old. Don't wait too long, Bean!

Well, THAT was fun.

2008-02-20T09:29:00.000-08:00

I figured that my spotless record was heading for its demise.

So far during the pregnancy, I've been pretty healthy. No colds, no flu, great blood pressure, no gestational diabetes, *somewhat* decent sleep. The most I've had to complain about is moderate hip/pelvic pain while I'm in bed that started mid-second trimester, but I'll deal with that rather than the extensive nausea.

Oh, Nausea. My old friend. Begin *GROSSMENT*

Monday night I cooked up some tacos for Hubby and I, which we've had before lots since I got pregnant. I went to bed a bit uncomfortable, but I figured I had just overdone it a bit. Hubby felt fine, so I wasn't too worried about food poisoning. But, sleep was elusive, and at about 4:30am, it all started.

I think I puked more from 4:30 until lunchtime than I had all first trimester.

Luckily, my OB's office is great. I called up and talked to someone for about 25 minutes, going over everything that was going on. They're seeing lots of these stomach viruses going around, and that's what I seem to have had. I had no fever, which was good, and I was able to keep down 1/2 cup of gingerale or apple juice per hour. I slept better last night, and I'm just looking forward to being able to eat some actual toast.

I was glad to talk to the doctors and nurses, and they were so helpful. They reassured me that until and unless I got severely dehydrated, Bean was in no danger. I only puked over the course of about 7 hours, and started off quite well fed and hydrated. Plus, the most wonderfully reassuring part of the whole thing was that I constantly got pummeled by this little football player during the whole thing; all I had to do was sit still for 10 minutes :-)

END GROSSMENT

This morning I had apple juice, a bit of sports rehydrator (which normally I don't like, but it's TASTY!), and a bit of applesauce. I'm going for some toast shortly, and then I think I might take a run into work. Since Hubby hasn't gotten sick yet, I figure I'm not contagious, and truthfully I'm going nuts here. I realize that I'm going to need to get used to spending lots of time here in the apartment again, but without a Bean to take care of there's really not much to do all day long ;-)

Ebb and flow

2008-02-15T06:31:00.000-08:00

I always marvel at how my writing goes through upswings, and dips, and I try to figure out why it takes teh direction that it does.

I used to write quite a bit during gradeschool, and even through undergrad. Grad school, at first, took up way too much of my brain space, but towards the end of my PhD, I found I needed it to keep me grounded. Particularly when I was writing up my thesis, it's almost like I needed to write other things to balance the scales.

I had thought I'd be doing a lot of personal writing this year, since work is going well and I *theoretically* have more time, but it's not working out that way ;-) Maybe it's the lack of brainpower because of Bean, or maybe it's being tired so much of the time; I'm not sure.

The strange thing is, I'm feeling more and more emotions lately, and they feel like things that I should be putting down. It's really overwhelming, and I think I'd benefit from capturing it. Maybe I'll try and put in just a little more effort; I think I'll be glad of it in the years to come.

Bad Baby Blogger

2008-01-30T11:03:00.000-08:00

*Sigh*

The exhaustion of the third trimester is starting to creep back in, along with increased queasiness.... It's kind of hard for your stomach to settle when it's being pummeled from underneath pretty constantly ;-)

Things are coming along nicely, though, so I can't complain too much. We've started childbirth classes (ack!) and the second official one is tonight. If the syllabus that we were given is correct, there will be video, which should be hilarious. The class is filled with medical and university professionals, and (not surprisingly) most of them are neurotic and/or scared out of their wits ;-) It should be an interesting few weeks.

I'm starting to think about booking Mom's plane ticket to get here, and I'm looking at furniture, strollers, etc. My friend C. says that this is the time to start gathering and assembling, so as to be prepared for any surprises or early arrivals. Instead of actually *doing* the practical stuff, though, I'm knitting baby sweaters and looking at little dressy outfits for my friend A.'s wedding in October (although those definitely won't be purchased until much further down the road, like late summer).

This is such a trip. Some days I still can't believe it.

HUZZAH!

2008-01-16T08:33:00.000-08:00

I passed!!! 117mg/dl! No need to go for the 3 hr screen!

I have to keep reminding myself that I shouldn't do at-home diagnosing. Different blood sugar meters behave quite differently, and I should know that. Hubby had been using one particular brand for a few months back in 2006, and he was consistently getting very off values (when comparing the meter reading to a veinipuncture reading when he got labs done). Diagnostics on the meter determined it was just fine - it was the chemistry used in the test strips that didn't work well with his own personal blood chemistry (it was consistently testing low by about 40%).

But who cares about all of that - I PASSED! I PASSED! I PASSED!

Now, to celebrate with something other than cake ;-)

I cheated, and (I think) I failed :-(

2008-01-15T11:19:00.000-08:00

In we went for the glucose test today. I decided to test my sugar before going in, and I was a nice, normal non-fasting 72mg/dl. I thought, I have this thing in the bag.

Drank the drink. Eeeyuch. Couldn't they at least put a bit of fizz in there? I'm sure it would've helped.

I sat. And sat. And knitted up to the thumb on my mittens.

In I go, blood taken (the girls at my health center are GREAT), and I decided to test again with Hubby's handy-dandy glucose meter.

147mg/dl.

BOOOOOOOO.

I know the meters have error associated with them, but this one Hubby has always found reliable. I'm planning on needing to go back for the three hour test :-(

I cheated, and I passed ;-)

2008-01-15T05:36:00.000-08:00

I'm going for my glucose test today, and it's been weighing on my mind since before the holidays. Then I realized I could find out some crucial info *before* going in.

Hubby has a glucose meter. I have food. I can make my own glucose challenge ;-)

The OB told me that they'll give me the glucose and do a one-hour blood draw. Anything over 140mg/dl is bad, and you go for the 3-hour test. I decided to split my dinner up, eat my salad first and then the carbs all at the same time.

Before eating the carbs (but not fasting) - 99mg/dl
1 hr post-consumption - 122mg/dl
2hr post-consumption - 106mg/dl

So, technically, I passed my own test, even though I shouldn't've been taking my own test ;-) (I won't tell you what the carbs were, but it was better for me than glucose syrup).

The countdown to the test

2008-01-11T05:39:00.000-08:00

My glucose screening test is coming up, and I'm a bit nervous. I'm doing okay with the weight gain, but not great. And while I know that gaining extra pounds isn't always an indicator of gestational diabetes at this point, I'm finding it hard be optimistic about this.

I've been hearing that lots of women fail the 1hr screening test AND the 3 hour test, and still come out fine, but I guess I'm waiting for the shoe to drop. I had a friend who developed gestational during her first pregnancy, and she had to take insulin, and that scares me.

So, I'm postponing until next week ;-) My OB wants it done within a week or so (he gave me the test req. on Wednesday), so I'm going on a day that Hubby can come with me and keep me company.

ETA: It's next week already, and I haven't gone for the test yet. I'm aiming for Wednesday ;-) One thing that came out of the appointment that was good was my blood pressure - 90/70. I'm hoping that counts for something.

Halfway point.

2007-12-04T10:14:00.000-08:00

Well, 20 weeks came and went without much pomp or circumstance. It was Hubby's birthday, but we even celebrated that two days early. Work is getting stressful, as it always does at this time of year, and that makes me a little neurotic.

I can no longer deny the fact that I'm feeling better, and it's annoying the hell out of me ;-) I managed to stay late to do a couple of experiments last night, not getting home until 9pm, and while I'm a bit sleepy today, I'm not much more nauseous than usual (which is to say, it's background, and I can pretty much ignore it while going about my business).

The one good thing about it is that I'm at a point where the first couple of months are becoming clouded by memory, and I can actually forsee going through this again ;-) Hubby and I would love for Bean to have a sibling, and for a while at the beginning, I was convinced Bean was destined to be an only child. How I would deal with the NVP the second time around might depend on my work situation, how old Bean is, and a billion other things, but I think I could swing it.

Now, if I can just get some good, productive work done before leaving on vacation, life would be perfect!

Here's to getting through the next two weeks, and celebrating with family for two weeks after that!

I think I'm taking this whole thing too seriously...

2007-11-28T12:45:00.000-08:00

:-)

After the great Trip and Fall of 2007, I've been thinking that maybe I'm being a touch too paranoid, even for being a first-time pregger. It may be because my mood is improving as the holidays approach, but I'm finding that I have increasing urges to just run around the room and make funny noises and freak everyone out ;-)

I decided to take stock of how I've been feeling lately, and what things are changing, versus the things that stay the same. **WARNING - May be too much information for many people; feel free to skip it**

Changes:

The belly, obviously. My waist is now measuring nearly 10" more than pre-pregnancy.
The breasticles. Oh, my good, the boobage. I didn't think it could get worse, but it did. And the funniest thing - they don't look bigger compared to the belly. My little brother, who has been following my progress through weekly online photos, commented last week "Boobies so small!" when, in actual fact, they're probably nearly a full cup size bigger.
My belly button is starting to become shallow, which is the weirdest thing to be vain about. Normally I have a very nice innie, if I do say so myself, and I hate to think that it's going to pop out like a turkey timer. That just creeps me out.
The back pain. It's not really that bad, but it means I sit (and sleep) funny, and now I'm dealing with my usual consequence of that - the painful, swollen sit-bone. (Yes, my ass hurts. Deal with it.) It's interfering with my knitting time, because I can't sit the way I want to, but since I didn't promise anyone any Christmas gifts, it's all good.
The *ahem* gaseousness. So far the only person it affects is me (because my entire family knows that I can fall into a vat of crap and come out smelling like a rose!), but my suffering does affect Hubby indirectly. Some days (though thankfully there are fewer) I'm completely sidelined by the pain, and I can tell it's hard on him to see me hurting. It's also hard to explain to people why you look like you're going to roll over and die when in that state.
The *ahem* potty parade. I haven't slept more than an hour at a time since August. I figure it's just training for the next 18 years.
The constant low-level nausea. I've learned to adapt, drink fizzy things to settle it, and make it through most work-days incident free.
I, the consumate coffee connoisseur, can't stand the stuff anymore, even though I'm allowed a cup a day. We're coffee snobs, and only grind and drink the good stuff, but I just have no interest in it. (Star$$ peppermint mochas, on the other hand, are juuuuuust fine.)

Things that haven't changed:

I am still a night owl, even though I do need 10 hours of rest. Makes my days very weird.
I still enjoy most of the foods that I did pre-pregnancy, now that the nausea is under control. It sucks that I'm not allowed many of my faves, though (blue cheese, sushi, imported fresh cheese, it's all about the cheese).
The obsession with cooking. Even when I feel crappy, and don't want to eat, I still love to cook. As long as it isn't shrimp curry, the smell of which always turns my stomach.
The emotional episodes. I thought about it, and for the last number of years, I've had emotional outbreaks, including wanting to cry for no reason, at about the same frequency. Most of the time before it was due to PMS, or just really stressful periods at work, and now it's hormonal, but the frequency is about the same.
I'm still a procrastinator. I know I should be planning out some furniture rearrangements, start thinking about babyproofing the living room (and getting rid of some of our crap), and make lists of what we need. I also know that versions of those lists can be found on the internet, the furniture is sparse enough that it can be rearranged in an hour, and that the crap in the livingroom is Hubby's, and therefore his job ;-)

Next Monday will be the halfway mark... woo-hoo!

My support system.

2007-11-16T12:21:00.000-08:00

Even though we're rather isolated down here, I have to keep giving props to my wonderful support system, that's scattered around the continent.

First off, there's my mom. She hasn't been pregnant in nearly 25 years, but still has so much advice and love to give. She's my first line of defense.

There's a tie for second place - and these two girls have been tied with each other for almost 20 years.

A., who is back in my university city, has no children yet (just a fiancé, whom I adore). Even so, she's just over the moon about Bean, and loves to hear all the details, even the gory ones.

Then there's C., who already has three kids, all under the age of five (God bless her little mothering heart). She's my closest friend who's been pregnant, and due to her job has a wealth of information about pregnancy and health at her fingertips. After I called my mother last night, I called her and she saved my sanity.

You see, last night I went arse over teakettle, slipping on some wet leaves that are on all the sidewalks around here. My belly didn't even hit the ground, although I really messed up both of my hands, along with my left knee, not to mention my shoulder and chest muscles which took the brunt of the impact. (Typing is fine, provided I don't put too much pressure on my wrists.)

My logical brain knows that I'd probably have to do a lot worse to even wake Bean up in there, since s/he's so well padded and cushioned. My hormonal brain, however, cried for hours. At the insistence of Hubby, I called C., and she comforted me, reassured me, then laughed at me in a very good natured way. She then told me about how she fell when she was nearly 7 months pregnant with her first boy, and her belly bounced off of the icy pavement. She said that her own husband laughed at her bruise for weeks, but only after her OB reassured her that both she and baby were completely fine.

I'm pretty sure that, had I not called her, I would've lain awake all last night, dragged myself to emergency this morning, and wasted the whole day to find out that I'm fine. I feel fine, I have no pain or any other symptoms, and I even think I can feel some real somersaults. But I needed that phone call to believe my logical brain.

Thanks, C., I love you!

Ugh.

2007-11-14T11:08:00.000-08:00

This morning we had our 17+ week check-up, and all is well. I still can't say for sure that I can feel Bean doing somersaults in there, but we listened to the hearbeat, and s/he moved around enough during that time that the Doc had to reposition the doppler several times.

Maybe it's a result of being tired (early appointment) or the french fry thing isn't working anymore, but I feel like crap warmed over right now. I also had some healthy, fiber-y cereal at lunch, though. Maybe that pushed my stomach over the edge.

As long as I can make it through my conference call, I'll be good.

Does this qualify as a craving?

2007-11-13T07:35:00.000-08:00

The only thing I can think of eating for lunch lately is french fries. With ketchup. And mayonnaise. Mayo on fries is common in some places, but I'm not sure if it is here.

Plus, it's cheap. I can get my lunch for $1.60 that way; anything from the caf that's remotely approaching healthy is $6 or $7.

I'll eat fruit for supper, I promise.

What's up with this weirdness?

2007-11-07T10:51:00.000-08:00

I've always been a pale-skinned person. I have never tanned, I can burn within minutes of being outside. I don't have red hair (naturally; sometimes I help it along), but during the summer I freckle like a ginger kid on my cheeks and arms.

I read that there can be pigmentation changes during pregnancy, and I expected some, but I ended up with only two so far.

Two freckles, very dark, one on my upper lip and one on my lower. I've never freckled on my lips before, and it makes me look like I've forgotten to use my napkin after lunch.

I wonder what's in store for the next few months?

Still awake.

2007-11-06T18:51:00.000-08:00

I should be sleeping, or at least preparing to, but this evening has been crazy.

I came home from work exhausted, and looking forward to an evening alone. Hubby has to do a 24-hour time course at work, which means he won't be home until midnight. I decided to use up some of my fridge-inhabitants to make a risotto that I'd been planning for about 4 days, as a way to keep busy and make some good ice-box leftovers for the rest of the week.

I ended up burning half the components, and nearly setting off the fire alarm. I now have a whole whack of bland risotto and an expensive pile of burnt sage and pancetta ;-)

Fortunately, I'm not too disappointed - sure, it tastes a lot better with the pancetta, but it's just a fancy word for bacon, which I don't necessarily need. Plus, I can make up for it with good parmesan! It'll still be a huge improvement for lunch over my single-serving mac and cheese that I've been resorting to in the past little while. I'm too tired in the mornings to make a decent fresh sandwich, and I don't like buying cafeteria food.

So, now that my food is refrigerated, and (half) the dishes are done, I still have to settle in to wait for Hubby. I know I should try and sleep, but I'll likely just lie awake and get really frustrated with myself. I could knit, but I'm just bone tired today. I think I'll curl up in my favourite chair and catch up on some TV that I've missed.

Hopefully that will keep me occupied - I'm usually OK with flying solo during the day, but at night, especially now that the time change means earlier darkness, I'm more likely to go wacky.

Happy Anniversary, Dearest.

2007-11-05T06:33:00.000-08:00

A brief tally for 2 years married:

1 wedding
2 apartments
2 Christmases as husband and wife
2 PhD defenses
4 job interviews
1 graduation ceremony
countless plane rides
16 weeks of Bean

And a lifetime left to look forward to.

Love you.

On being alone.

2007-11-01T13:44:00.000-07:00

One of the things that's been weighing on my mind lately is our present isolated state, here in a state and country where everything of necessity is a car ride (or plane ride) away, and we've only got good walking shoes, and enough cash to get us home once or twice a year.

Because it takes me a while to rev up through the queasiness when I wake up, I have been spending a lot of mornings by myself in our apartment. Hubby quietly gets up and gets himself ready, because I'm desperate for the extra sleep these days, so by the time I get up, eat, wait for my stomach to settle, eat again, and get ready for work, I've been bumping about alone for 2 hours. This is usually followed by working in my lab, where I'm the sole employee and tenant of our lab space. Monday through Friday - lather, rinse, and repeat.

This is compounded by the fact that we haven't managed to make many friends outside of work, and are in a bit of a different life stage than many of Hubby's co-workers (although I like them all very much - some of us share the same sick sense of humour). Evenings and weekends are spent cleaning, knitting, watching TV, and talking about what's in store for us.

Most nights I don't notice the fact that I can't run next door and have tea with my best grad-school friend, or that I can't make plans to go for breakfast and shopping with my best childhood friend; during our last months at home, I tried to appreciate these things as much as I could, and not take those people for granted. But, some days I can't help but feel sad that, for the majority of this pregnancy (or at least until I join prenatal classes and make some mommy-friends), I'll be physically alone, separated from loved ones by thousands of miles and an international border.

(Hubby is excluded from these calculations, but is VERY much appreciated and loved and is my strength every single day).

All this was starting to get me down, until I realized something a few days ago.

For the rest of this pregnancy, and indeed for the rest of my life from now on, I will never, for even a moment, be alone.

I love you, Bean.

On comfort.

2007-10-23T11:41:00.000-07:00

Well, the cat is out of the bag, and everyone knows. All the family and friends who were in the inner sanctum have been given the go-ahead to tell the rest of the world, and the news is making the rounds. Quite fast, if the messages I'm getting on facebook are any indication.

And, truthfully speaking, I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable with that.

The logical part of me knows that it's not realistic to keep the news a secret for much longer (even though it would be easy to accomplish since my family and friends are practically all a thousand miles away). I've passed the benchmarks, and things seem to be going well (a nice heartbeat was heard last Wednesday, and I'm feeling better although still queasy a lot of the time). It's just weird - now that it's out, it's both more real to me and more surreal at the same time.

We told Hubby's aunt and uncle this weekend. We see them once a month for a little shopping excursion (since we have no car) and lunch, which gives us a nice little visit. They were of course overjoyed, and were more than happy to take us an extra 10 minute drive outside of town so I could shop for relatively cheap maternity clothes. I was surprised at how reasonably priced everything was, and Hubby was surprised that most of what was available didn't "look like a tent".

I hadn't realized how much my shape had changed, even though my weight has only gone up 3lb. I had stopped wearing a belt most of the time, since my pants were starting to just fit (before they were loose), but once I put on some maternity pants, I was in heaven. All of a sudden, I wasn't constricted or uncomfortable anymore; it turns out that even my super stretchy sweats were snug in the wrong places. I also found myself in the middle of another paradox - even though I was absolutely thrilled that my pre-pregnancy size turned out smaller than I thought (I'd expected to be in XL but I'm nowhere near that), I discovered that I'm completely comfortable with my growing belly. It sticks out a little further than I would've thought for my present stage, but I'm OK with it.

Maybe I'm only OK with it because it's shaped such that it's obvious that I'm pregnant and not just really pudgy ;-)

On morning sickness and being grateful.

2007-10-09T08:50:00.001-07:00

If I take into account the error involved in dating a pregnancy by the last menstrual period (I don't ovulate at the proscribed time, and therefore am off by 3 days), I'm pretty sure that I'm officially finished my first trimester, and at least one or two days into my second.

Everywhere I look, I read about how the second trimester is better, both in terms of the exhaustion and the nausea. I have noticed some differences lately, but I'm not sure that I'm completely past either one.

The nausea has changed its pattern, and it's a pretty clear change. Up until last week, I was nauseous all day, every day. It would wax and wane, and it seemed that if I could eat through it I'd feel better for about an hour, then it would return. Lately, though, the mornings are still really bad (maybe even a little bit worse), but the afternoons are usually nearly incident-free. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get a period of time each day that stretches to seven or eight hours, so that I can get my productivity back up. I can now eat supper successfully most days, and lunch usually. I'm working my way back to breakfast.

The exhaustion is also still there, but it's changed too. I'm finding it harder and harder to get to sleep, even when I'm really tired, but I can't sleep in anymore. I'd gotten into a routine of going to bed early, and then getting up after 10 hours of sleep, whenever that happened to be (God bless forgiving employers!). The past few days, I've been waking up earlier and earlier, no matter when I get to sleep. Maybe this means I'm getting back into a normal routine. I sure hope so.

Another pregnant blogger posted on Monday about how she's eternally grateful to be pregnant, but that she's not grateful for the symptoms (her situation has been far more trying than mine, and she has my support and respect for it). I used to tell everyone that I was happy to be sick, because it meant that a healthy pregnancy was more likely from the get-go, and I now realize that's not true. Most people aren't happy with being sick all day long, or with less restful sleep patterns. Who in their right mind would be thrilled being less productive at work, or being unable to enjoy cooking and eating as much as they used to? That doesn't mean we're not thrilled to be pregnant.

I have never been happier, or more excited, or more scared, all at the same time. I'm grateful for my feelings, and I'm grateful for my child. I'm trying to appreciate my changing shape, as a preview of the life changes that are coming.

I think for today, though, I'm going to forget about all those big picture things. For today, I'm grateful for the fact that my lunch is settling, and I'm feeling well enough to do some computer work from home.

So much for my spotless record.

2007-10-08T07:21:00.000-07:00

Last night was a tear-fest, and it sucked.

I have many theories as to why I finally just broke down, and I'm not sure which to believe. It was Thanksgiving back at home, and most of my family and friends were eating turkey and taters and desserts like pumpkin pie and apple crisp. Hubby and I did decide to go out for lunch, since I didn't feel like cooking up a big complicated meal, and it was pretty good. I had a great burger, and we stopped for ice cream on the way home.

The physical part of the problem started after we picked up our ice cream - one of my pregnancy symptoms is periodic attacks of *gas*. The pain and discomfort rate up at about 11 out of 10, although it usually resolves itself within 24 hours. So, that didn't help my mood at all.

The emotional part had several components. First, I decided to let my parents tell my 88 year old grandmother, and my dad's cousin (who's like a sister to him), and I think I didn't recognize how far away I'd feel, just talking to them over the phone.

My parents and brothers have known for a while. I'd had a bit of a panicked day when we were home for my older brother's wedding, and so I had to tell Mom, Dad, and my little brother (who was my travel companion during the panicked time - see the bottom of this post), so they were told out of necessity. I told my older brother and sister-in-law shortly after, so as not to take attention away from their wedding.

*Edited to remove my mean-spirited rant*

Sigh. After the whole day's discomforts, I just lost it. Poor Hubby didn't know what to do.

Hopefully this week will be better. It's sunny out right now, when they were forecasting rain, so maybe that's a good sign.

On being grateful.

2007-10-03T08:37:00.000-07:00

One of the many side effects of pregnancy (and there are many, I know, because I've experienced nearly all of them) is the tendency to be overemotional.

I've always been an emotional person, but it hits me at the weirdest times. When I was planning my wedding, I would get teary just thinking about first dance songs. During the ceremony, I bounced around like a jumping bean and never once got choked up because I was just so excited.

Fortunately, I've rarely cried in front of people since becoming pregnant. The only exceptions have been those evenings when I've gone the entire day without food, have been really sick, and my husband comes home and takes care of me. When he comes home, brings me jello and juice, and tucks me into bed, I usually cry because I love and appreciate him so much. The past couple of weeks, though, one thing pops into my head and makes me very emotional.

It's the knowledge that, even though only a handful of people know about my present state, this child is so loved. I am so lucky.

Updates

2007-10-01T10:22:00.000-07:00

I just realized that I forgot to post after my first OB appointment, and that's just not right.

Everything went pretty well, I must say. The only shock (which wasn't really a shock so much as a reality check) was my pre-pregnancy weight. And that's all we'll say about that.

The bottom line is, so far so good. The OB did a quick u/s in the office, and sent us for a second full one based on something he saw. It was a slightly frightening few days in between, even though he tried to be very reassuring. Now, forgive me for getting up on my soapbox, but I have an urge.

When the OB did the u/s, just to check for size and dates, he saw something that he felt was "unusual". He never used the word abnormal, or gave us any reason to think something was wrong, but when he called in a colleague to look, that freaked me out.

The second u/s was scheduled for within 5 days, and they were the longest 5 days of my life. The scan was very thorough, though, and the sonographer very reassuring. She showed the films to the radiologist, and it turns out that what the OB saw was a very normal feature for our gestational age.

Don't get me wrong, I was very happy to get the second scan; the reassurance helped me immensely. My problem in all this is that the OB (who in all other respects is a very good OB/GYN, and I'm happy with him) is NOT a sonographer, and does not have the knowledge to interpret anything past size and date. But, you say, he didn't try to interpret - he sent you to a qualified sonographer. Correct, but perhaps I should've been sent to a sonographer from the get-go, rather than put me through those 5 days of waiting, if it's that important to check size and dates.

*she steps gently down from her platform to signal an abrupt subject change*

We're nearing the date that we're planning on going public with. That part is just as scary. My parents know already, but they're itching to tell some of our close family. *Sigh* I just wish I could be home with them.

When you're in a bad place, what's the best medicine?

2007-09-18T12:40:00.000-07:00

The best medicine is to talk to someone who's gone through the same thing, and come out on the other side.

By now, whomever is reading knows exactly what's going on here. And, as each day passes, it seems like my body has finally figured it out. The nausea seems to increase slightly every day or so, and I thought it was going to stay that way - feeling really awful all day, every day, with no other consequences.

Oh, how wrong I was. Tune on out if you don't want details (although they won't be too graphic)

Saturday I finally got my call on the big white phone. I had just eaten about a half cup of very mild pasta salad, and was thinking all was well, until the encore performance. Then I worried that perhaps I'd had some contaminated green onions, so I threw the rest of the salad out (my favourite salad!) and went on with living.

Sunday was tough, but better. Monday was actually pretty darn good, and I spent the majority of the day at work being productive. This morning, however, I woke up and just knew it wouldn't be a good idea to leave the house.

Sometimes, it's no fun to be right.

Toast didn't even survive twenty minutes this afternoon. I'm glad I decided to stay home.

The one good thing is that I got to talk to one of my best friends, after my 'episode', and she made me feel better. She has three kids, and was sick with all three, including progressing to severe HG with the third. While I know, intellectually, that this is normal, somehow she encourages me, and keeps me positive.

Thank heavens I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Perhaps some new wisdom will come my way.

I've been debating whether or not to write this post for quite a while now.

2007-09-09T16:55:00.000-07:00

I'm not hugely superstitious, but there's something to be said for not tempting fate too much. However, since this blog isn't really for public consumption yet, I figure what the heck.

There's also the fact that everything that works its way through my brain lately tends to come out with a distinct whine. I don't like to be that way, but there's a part of me that wants to start documenting no matter what.

I still don't think I'm going to go whole hog into everything that's been happening lately, but suffice it to say I'm pretty tired. I was hoping that I would end up with an experience similar to my mother's (all three, for that matter), but unfortunately it's gone way past a little tiredness in the afternoons.

Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate the fact that this experience is completely different from last time, and that it's a really good sign. I guess I'm just more of a wimp than I thought.

I know I could have a much more raw deal, and I have so much respect for women who go through HG (love you, C.!). I also know that suffering has a purpose, and so I offer mine up.

Now, for some saltines. Even though they don't really work. Ugh.

Just what, exactly, have I gotten myself into?

2007-09-06T08:42:00.001-07:00

Keep on drinking the beer - that's probably the last that'll be around here for a while.

Blech.

If you've found this blog...

2007-08-15T08:32:00.000-07:00

... go away and come back in a couple of months.

Just kidding. You can hang out. Help yourself to a seat, there's beer in the fridge, and snacks on the table.

I'll be back soon.

Brand New Canuck

Birthday stories to come.

And again with the sucky blogging

Wow, that was a long time between posts...

It's 2:40 AM, and I'm awake.

The first of many...

Reality checks

We now break for station identification.

Sick day

Mommy meme

We're still here.

He goes to daycare but I get the pinkeye.

The kindness of strangers...

The hardest day of my life

The latest development.

Huzzah! And, Woo-hoo!

For those of you that are the praying kind...

The solid food adventure

*sigh*

We survived the first half, and are well into the second.

It's been a busy few days.

Yummo!

A step forward in the 'strangers' department, and a step back in the sleep department.

A better day yesterday, and a slightly hypocritical rant.

Today was better than yesterday.

Blogging from away

My first work "week"

The daycare debacle, part 2

Keeping my eyes on the prize

The daycare debacle

Brain mush

*really* sleeping through the night

Surviving our first family road trip

Heading out on our road trip tomorrow.

Dear future self,

Just when I think I can't love him anymore than I already do....

My baby, he amazes me

Meltdown

Can it be?

Again with the sleeping.

Things they don't tell you

Fire alarms

Hmmmm.

Oh, we're so spoiled (and so screwed)

Sleeping through the night (now with totally unrelated video!)

My happy boy

I can't believe he did it again.

The story of poo

Now I get it

My little man!

I really should be sleeping

I have the best baby EVER

Things only I can know

We made it.

My baby has a supercharged metabolism.

Still behind the 8-ball

Oh, what a long night.

Please go easy on the exhausted new mom...

Recovery

The adventure begins.

Baby!

The baby that ate Manhattan

Give us this day, our daily contractions.

38 down, 2 to go

On taking things for granted.

37 down, 3 (?) to go

36 weeks and counting.

The latest cliche

Oy.

Well, THAT was fun.

Ebb and flow

Bad Baby Blogger

HUZZAH!

I cheated, and (I think) I failed :-(

I cheated, and I passed ;-)

The countdown to the test

Halfway point.

I think I'm taking this whole thing too seriously...

My support system.

Ugh.

sigh

really sleeping through the night