Diary of a First Time Mom

Archive for the ‘Honesty’ Category

This is not the post I had planned on writing, but I suppose that is all part of the process.  Sit down, start typing, and see what comes out.

There are so many things that are running though my head right now, but the editing process seems to want me to write about what we had for dinner.  After all, this blog is really for all the friends and relatives to see updates on Wyatt, right?  Well, I suppose it is that but it is also more.  The title itself, Diary of a First Time Mom, says I should be able to confide my deepest thoughts, like I would a diary.  But how much do you really want to put “out there”?

I think I may have covered this topic a little during pregnancy.  But so much is forgotten about that time after the baby is born.

Wyatt is 44 weeks old today.  And it only just occurred to me tonight that I am a full time mom.  This is my job.  And it is the most important thing to me right now.  I always knew, from the moment I set eyes on Wyatt, that caring for him is my #1 priority, but being a mom is so much more than just caring for your child.  Whether you work at home, work outside the home, or stay at home, Mom is generally the heart of the home.  This covers so much.  Cleaning, laundry, meal planning, cooking, tending to the animals… The list goes on.  In our home, there is no division of labor.  Scott and I both do what needs to get done, and help each other.  But in the past few months, I have been trying to “get it all done” so that he can just work and come home and relax.  The irony is that in spending all my time and energy making sure everything got done every day, I was beat, tired, and cranky as I was not making sure I rested and looked after myself throughout the day.  And as it turns out, feeling good and spending nice time together is more important than having everything picked up and put away at the end of each day.  Huh.  Who’d a thunk it?

And so balance is a word I am contemplating now.  Balance.  Is it really possible?  Is it possible to balance raising a child, running a household, maintaining a healthy marriage, running a home-based business, setting up a non-profit organization, spending time with friends, spending time by myself…?  Maybe not all those things every day.  Maybe not every week.  But overall, yes I do think this is possible.

So here are the things I will do to attain this.  Breathe deeply more often.  Read before bed.  Keep my thoughts in check.  Especially the negative ones.  Smile more.  And most importantly, remember that it NEVER all gets done.  This is a big one.  I seem to always forget it!

As a good friend said to me recently, when you are old, you are never going to look back on your life and wished you had cleaned more.

Well I don’t even remember how many days it has been since we started the E.A.S.Y schedule.  My time is measured in clusters of hours right now, and not days.  But the schedule thing seems to be working out quite well.  We adjusted it a bit to suit us, as there were too many back-to-back feedings at the end of the day, and I found I was getting stressed and even dreading 4pm when I would have 4 feeds, 2 hours apart.  Too much!  The poor kid never got time to nap.  And the thing is, he was a good sleeper even before we started the Baby Whisperer’s techniques!  So Scott and I were like, why are we messing with something that’s not broken?!

The reason I started it was because I had read that if babies wake up in the night, they did not get enough to eat in the day.  Should have kept reading, as it went on to say that up until 6 or 8 weeks, their little tummies are not big enough to hold enough milk to last them through the night.  So they wake up around 2-3am and then again at 4-6am.  Wyatt was waking up at 3:30 am every night, and then again at 6:30 am or 7am.  Gah!  We had it good BEFORE E.A.S.Y.!  The one thing it has helped is his sleep patterns.  We now have a sleep routine!  So after his activity time, we sit quietly and transition to a more relaxed state, and then I lay him down and kiss him goodnight.  Sometimes he fusses, and I can settle him.  Sometime I can’t settle him at all.  Sometimes he’s out like a light.  But what I have learned is it is always different and always changing.  And we roll with it.

So.  Now that has settled down, I have decided to take on the next challenge.  People who don’t want to read about breast feeding, stop here.  I promise not to get too graphic.  And no, there will be no photos, so don’t even ask…

At the hospital, we had a hard time with “latch-on” (getting Wyatt to breast feed).  So they gave us a plastic shield to put over the nipple and make it easier for him and me.  This was a great thing as I already stressed about being a “bad mom” by not getting enough food to my baby.  He was jaundiced and not peeing, and you may recall we had to do an ultrasound to check his kidneys, and on and on it went.  So we went home and continued to use this shield.  What I did not know, and learned very quickly, is that any pattern you start out, takes time to change.  That combined with giving Wyatt 1-2 bottles of pumped milk each day (to give me a break and allow Dad and Grandmas to get a chance to feed him as well) made it harder to eventually teach him to latch-on properly.  All these weeks I have been ignoring this fact, as we had other things to deal with, like my healing and getting him into a routine.

So now comes the time to get him to attach to the boob sans plastic.  And he doesn’t want to.  I will go off on a tangent here and say that when he cries, my perception of time changes.  I found out one day, after finally getting him settled, that he had really only been crying for 5 minutes.  Five  minutes!?!  How could that be?  It felt like hours!  (Probably doesn’t help that nature has it setup to make me want to cry when I hear him cry…  but I digress).  So I decided it was time to wean him off the plastic nipple shield.  The timing must have been good, because around the same time, he started resisting it, wiggling and knocking it off with his hands.

Here is the timeline of events:

I decide to wean him off the shield.
I try at our next feed.  No dice.  He screams.  I use the shield.  I feel crap about it.
I try at the next feed.  Shampoo, rinse, repeat.
I try at the next feed.  He latches to me.  Victory!  It lasts about 30 seconds.  I use the shield.  I feel crap about it.

Again, in the spirit of full disclosure (I stated earlier in this blog that I would aim to be as honest about this as I can), I cried each time it didn’t work.  Each time I cried, it probably only lasted about 5 minutes.  But it seemed longer.

So that was yesterday.

This morning at his first feed, we tried again without luck.  I fed the whole time with the shield and actually had the words go through my mind “I hate this shield.”  I’m pretty sure that was a crappy meal for  Wyatt.  I know what stress and food combined can do to the body.  No bueno.

The next feed was a little better, in that he latched on for a minute or so before freaking out.  Scott suggested I feed him long before he is due to make sure he is not starving when we try to learn something new.  This is a good idea!

So I went to shower and get ready for the day.  I had to come to terms with the idea that I may not be able to do this, and I found it very upsetting.  But I had a feeling that I could make it work.  And gave myself a pep talk.

The thing is, my mind can be a very destructive thing.  It says things like -I’m a bad mom. -I can’t do this. -It will never work. -I’m starving and stressing out  my kid.  And all the while, it pretends to be me.  Making this realization, I decided to ignore these thoughts.  Long ago, I had been given a sticker that says “You don’t have to believe everything you think.” and for the longest time I did not know what it meant.  I do now.

And we tried again.  And it didn’t work.  So we gave him 4 ounces of pumped milk (his usual bottle is 3 oz).  And he was quiet and happy and playing.  Then something happened.  A voice said to me to try again.  Not the same ‘voice in the head’ that tells me I am not good enough.  This was a voice that seemed to come from my solar plexus region.  My gut instinct, maybe?  Try again, it said.  I dismissed this thought as he just ate and could not possibly still be hungry.

TRY again.

I paused.  Considered the source.  And tried again.  And would you believe it…  it worked!  He latched on properly and fed with no assistance!  For ten minutes.  Hey, good enough for me!  Then it was time for his nap.  And so I decided to feed him two hours apart (instead of three) to make sure he was in a better mood to ‘try something new’.  I woke him up an hour before he was due for his next meal, and after several attempts, he latched on again!

Since then, each time it has been easier and easier.  I know now that every time will be different.  And even when we think, we ‘got it’ there will be setbacks.  And new patterns.  Or he will change his mind.  But the biggest thing I realized is that regardless of what happens, I am a good mom.  It does not matter if I can breastfeed or not.  As long as I do my best by my child.

I think I will attempt to stop beating myself up over every little thing now, and go and enjoy spending time with my baby.

PS:  BIG BIG thanks to all my girlfriends who have given me tonnes of support and advise.  No woman is an island, and it is wonderful to know that support is out there!  xoxo

A friend of mine told me that the first two weeks would be really hard.  Then it would get easier.  I remembered this yesterday, on Wyatt’s two week birthday.  And it is true.  A few days after we got home from the hospital with Wyatt, Scott said he felt we were getting more and more organized each day.  That at first it was like a cart barreling down the street with all the wheels barely on.  And each day we got to tighten and adjust each side to make it all work better.  Also true.

I have known for a while that I need to spend more time living in the present moment.  55 hours of labor at home on regular strength Tylenol sure taught me what living in the moment was all about.  However, when you are sleep deprived (and I mean 5 days with no sleep at all) and recovering from childbirth and feeling the responsibility of looking after another human being completely, the present moment is pretty scary.  I think this is because all you see is ‘what is’ and ‘what is’ is viewed from a shattered nervous system.  What I could not see at the time was how each day got a little easier, even if it was only an inch at a time.

Wyatt started to eat more at each feeding.  This meant he started to sleep longer in between feedings.  I started to really trust my instincts more, and didn’t have to keep checking if he was still breathing (as much) during naps.  I got to get things at home organized, slowly.  And then finally I took the advise that everyone says, and sounds really easy to do, but is hard to actually do:  sleep while the baby sleeps.  Man, it’s hard to let go and just relax and sleep.  Shouldn’t I be DOING something?  Shouldn’t I be looking at him, and absorbing all his baby cuteness as I keep hearing how fast it goes by?  Well, none of that is any fun when the mom is tired and cranky.  And that is really what I think this is all about.  Having fun.  Enjoying the time we spend together, all of us, as a family.  Having fun, whether it is during feeding or changing a diaper.  Yes, you can make changing a diaper fun.  Just ask Scott.  I will have to take some video soon of Scott’s “baby exercise regime”.  Not too sure how Wyatt feels about it but I think it’s pretty funny.

So now here we are, at the beginning of the third week of Wyatt’s life.  My parents are here to help, but at the moment are out shopping.  Scott is at work.  Milhouse and Bantha are fed and sleeping.  Wyatt is in his bed, fed and changed and sleeping too.  And I am about to take a shower and do my hair.  The loudest thing in the house right now is the refrigerator.  And the sound of a long slow exhale, as I put my feet up and finish my coffee.  Yes, life with a new baby is hard work.  And as soon as you figure one thing out, you get hit with another challenge (or two), but I would not change a thing in the world.  Life is good.

I have officially become the victim of what I had always heard would eventually happen. Women, usually older women, keep telling me to really enjoy my pregnancy and how it was the best time of their lives. They speak of how their hair, skin and nails were never as good as when they were pregnant. They tell me they never felt better! I usually smile. Through clenched teeth. Not because I was annoyed. But because I was walking around feeling perpetually nauseous.

And now it has happened to me. And I am not complaining! But I feel… good! In fact, I had almost completely forgotten all the strange and unusual side-effects of the first trimester, until last night, as I was drifting off, it all came back to me.

In case I did not properly chronicle it in a prior post, here are some of the things that came up during my first three months of pregnancy (in no particular order):

• Nausea – really bad nausea.
• Skin rash across my whole face, probably due to the floods of hormones.  My skin literally went “AHHHHHHHHHH!” and broke out from forehead to chin.
• The need to have something in my stomach at all times.  ALL times.  It was especially strange how much relief one little cracker and a glass of water could bring.
• Emotional outbursts.  More than the usual…
• Feeling miserable, mentally.  Almost like a mild depression.  I actually wonder if this is due to the amount of vitamins that were being used for the baby and I had not caught up by taking enough for me too.
• Fatigue.  As in sudden whole body shut down.  One time, I was folding laundry and had two more sheets to fold.  You know how when you are folding sheets by yourself, you hold your arms up high and grab the corners?  I literally could not lift my arms.  I had to drop the sheets where I stood, and lay down.  I think I passed out for about two hours.
• Food aversions / cravings.  Bananas were my best friend.  I ate one right before bed and then in the middle of the night.  Suddenly, bananas made me sick.  Even the mention of them set me off into a serious case of the burps.  Scott loved the power, and would frequently whisper “ba-na-nas” in my ear, and then laugh as I would burp for the next five minutes.  Yuck.
• Hating food.  It was such a chore to eat.  Nothing tasted good.  But it was a necessity.

I am sure there are others, but these are the only ones I can think of now.  And for how long?  Sneaky Nature has already started flooding my brain with the happy hormones and I am starting to feel really great!  I went on a Subway kick.  Got my hair done.  Cleaned out my office.  Sold a bunch of stuff on eBay.  And started to eat for pleasure again.

But I wanted to log my observations (not complaints!) of the first trimester, before the second really kicks in, I get my serious energy boost and Nature sends a Will Smith-esque guy to my door to flash the bad memories away.  Tricky Nature.  I’m on to you…