Have you guys ever seen the 80's movie Adventures in Babysitting? It's a quirky comedy starring Elisabeth Shue as Chris Parker, a responsible babysitter watching her two regular charges on what seems to be an average evening. She receives a call from a frantic friend in need of a ride home. Chris packs the kids up in the car for what was to be a quick trip to aid the friend. In typical cinematic fashion, nothing goes as planned. The trio are forced to weather a wild night punctuated by a shootout, singing in a blues club, and a fraternity party. Chris makes some questionable choices, which lead to comedic chaos. But by the time the credits roll, a happy ending is had by all. That parable sounds a lot like my life lately, except I'm not just sitting a kid, I'm raising one. Which means I am less adept at seeing the comedy in the chaos, and more likely to wallow in the drama, at least right now.
As I shared in my last post, Baby D had an exciting visit to the hospital a few weeks back. He's healthy and happy now, but it was a fairly traumatic event for a new mother such as myself. I've found myself even more worried and anxious about his well-being than I was to begin with (which was plenty). I also stated in my last post that while difficult, I was finding breastfeeding to be a rewarding experience. Well, it ceased to feel rewarding after I endured a multi-day migraine, the result of which was a dwindling milk supply and an inability to care for Baby D properly since I was unable to get off the couch and out from under my ice pack.
I made the difficult decision to move to formula feeding. After a day of feeding him formula, everything seemed to be going well. I went to make more bottles for the next day, read the side of the formula can, and gasped in horror. I realized that I had been making the bottles at double the correct concentration. Somehow, I had committed the ultimate in mental lapses. And I was convinced I had killed my child. His pediatrician assured me everything would be fine and that no lasting damage had been done. Disregarding this, I spent the next few days tied up in knots, watching Baby D for any signs of distress, fretting over every grunt (which for those of you with newborns know, is rather a frequent occurrence). Baby D was of course, just fine. So I allowed myself to breathe. For a split second.
Then this weekend I came down with a mild cold. Probably because all this stressing had weakened my immune system. Which meant of course, that should those germs spread to Baby D, he would become sick again, no doubt be hospitalized, and it would be all my fault. And I was convinced I had killed my child (are we seeing a trend here yet?). I used excess amounts of hand sanitizer, stifled every sneeze, and feared I was spreading disease just by looking at him. Well the weekend came and went, and Baby D was of course, just fine. So I allowed myself to breathe. For now.
This evening was spent with my darling son, fabulous and patient husband, and loyal canines. We had tummy time with Baby D on the floor. I marveled at his wide innocent eyes soaking up every new sight and reacting to every new sound. I delighted in watching the dogs lick his toes and keep watch over him as he napped. I giggled at his goofy faces as he let out an adorable toot (not so adorable was what inevitably followed). I sighed with happiness as I looked around the room and silently gave thanks for this wonderful gift, my family. It was a quiet moment of reflection that allowed me to realize that I am never going to be a perfect mother. The mistakes I've made recently are likely the first of many. However, I love Baby D fiercely, and will do anything and everything within my power to protect him and keep him safe in this crazy world. And that truly is enough.
I can't say I won't ever worry or feel guilty again. I can say though that I will be making a concerted effort to live in the moment, and cherish every second of this beautiful time. I will do my best to not get bogged down with the details. They say kids grow up so fast, and that infancy is over in a flash. Well then - I will give him millions of kisses every day, inhale as much of his baby smell as I can stand, take thousands of pictures and videos, and enjoy each minute. And maybe someday I'll be able to see the comedy in the chaos too.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Friday, October 5, 2012
Becoming a Mom
One month and one day ago, our lives were forever changed. We welcomed Baby D into the world on September 4th, 2012. He weighed 7lbs, 6oz, and measured 20.5." Baby D was (and is) perfect.
If there was one thing I gleaned from watching numerous episodes of "A Baby Story" throughout my pregnancy (other than a feeling of complete terror), it was that labor seldom goes by your birth plan. Therefore, I didn't really have a set birth plan, beyond that I preferred an epidural if the situation allowed for it. Well, the situation did not allow for it, and things didn't go as planned. After a prolonged and painful failed attempt at induction, I ended up with a Caesarean section. They gave me spinal anesthesia, which worked well but was very disconcerting. You can't move anything below your waist, and I was convinced I'd be paralyzed for life. During the procedure I didn't feel much beyond a little pushing and pulling feeling in my abdomen. A few seconds later, we heard the most beautiful sound in the world - Baby D's cry. Minutes later they brought him over to me. His handsome face, that baby smell, the overwhelming emotions of protectiveness and love that swept through me...it was the single most powerful moment of my life so far. It was hard not to be able to be with him much or hold him in that first hour or so, but it was calming to know T was by his side. Seeing T instantly transform into a father was amazing. I think I fell more in love with him than ever.
My legs stayed numb for hours and hours. The nurses said it was rare for the anesthesia to last so long, which was great news for my anxiety and paranoia. When Baby D had his first blowout poo, T had to handle it all by himself. It was the first diaper he had ever changed, poor man. All I could do was watch helplessly from the bed. Trial by fire, I guess. T did a great job holding things together for us in those first 48 hours. I on the other hand was massively overtired, whacked out on pain medication, and emotionally unstable (thank you, hormones).
There was major overcrowding at the hospital post-delivery (mid-December 2011 must have been a very fertile time for ladies in the AV). They gave us the option of going home Thursday or Friday, and we chose Friday, until they informed us they'd be moving another family into our room, which was the size of a walk-in closet to begin with. You couldn't have shot us out of a cannon faster than we hightailed it out of there on Thursday night. We brought Baby D home, and spent the next few days staring at him in awe. When the doggies arrived home, they sniffed him briefly, but didn't show much interest at first. Flash forward to today, they are obsessed with him! Tess and Buster seem to know now that he is part of their family, and they consider it their calling to protect him (and lick him profusely).
My first few weeks of motherhood were everything all rolled into one: terrifying, difficult, tiring, fun, joyful, and amazing. Breastfeeding is hard, don't let anyone tell you differently. I decided to take on the challenge in spite of my concerns over how to treat my migraines while breastfeeding. I am so glad I did. Nursing times are precious moments. Baby D and I get to experience that special bond, and yes, I feel a selfish sense of accomplishment that comes from knowing I am doing something good for my baby. I certainly don't judge anyone who chooses not to breastfeed, whatever the reasoning. There may come a time when I am not able to anymore as well. I've been lucky with my migraines so far, and hope to enjoy it and maintain the breastfeeding as long as I can.
When Baby D was right around 3 weeks old, he developed a fever and rash late one night. We took him to urgent care, where they told us it was probably an allergy, and to take him to our pediatrician in the morning. The pediatrician sent us to the hospital for a work-up. They decided to admit him to the hospital, run tests, and keep him for two days until all the test results came back. This involved inserting an IV into my little angel's arm, which was possibly the worst thing I've ever gone through, and it didn't even happen to me. The nurse had a hard time getting it in, and his screams of pain pierced my heart. They also did a spinal tap. For that one I was sitting in a chair with nurses patting me sympathetically on the back. I managed to hold it together until T arrived, when I pretty much collapsed into sobs. Luckily Baby D acted quite healthy during our hospital stay, being very feisty with the nurses when they tried to take his vitals. The staff in the peds unit was top notch, and they really made a bad situation bearable for us. After all the tests thankfully came back negative and it was determined he probably had a minor virus, we were able to take Baby D home. Since our ordeal I have heard from several people who had similar experiences with their newborns. It seems it is quite common. Still, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. We left all the more grateful for Baby D's strength and good health.
We've been home from the hospital for a week now, and in some ways it was like starting all over again. There has definitely been a readjustment period with the breastfeeding, his sleep schedule, etc. I couldn't believe it when T informed me that Baby D was one month old yesterday. It truly has been a whirlwind. My first month as a mother has been the happiest of my life, even with all the struggles. I can't wait to watch my baby boy grow big and strong (but not too fast!).
If there was one thing I gleaned from watching numerous episodes of "A Baby Story" throughout my pregnancy (other than a feeling of complete terror), it was that labor seldom goes by your birth plan. Therefore, I didn't really have a set birth plan, beyond that I preferred an epidural if the situation allowed for it. Well, the situation did not allow for it, and things didn't go as planned. After a prolonged and painful failed attempt at induction, I ended up with a Caesarean section. They gave me spinal anesthesia, which worked well but was very disconcerting. You can't move anything below your waist, and I was convinced I'd be paralyzed for life. During the procedure I didn't feel much beyond a little pushing and pulling feeling in my abdomen. A few seconds later, we heard the most beautiful sound in the world - Baby D's cry. Minutes later they brought him over to me. His handsome face, that baby smell, the overwhelming emotions of protectiveness and love that swept through me...it was the single most powerful moment of my life so far. It was hard not to be able to be with him much or hold him in that first hour or so, but it was calming to know T was by his side. Seeing T instantly transform into a father was amazing. I think I fell more in love with him than ever.
My legs stayed numb for hours and hours. The nurses said it was rare for the anesthesia to last so long, which was great news for my anxiety and paranoia. When Baby D had his first blowout poo, T had to handle it all by himself. It was the first diaper he had ever changed, poor man. All I could do was watch helplessly from the bed. Trial by fire, I guess. T did a great job holding things together for us in those first 48 hours. I on the other hand was massively overtired, whacked out on pain medication, and emotionally unstable (thank you, hormones).
There was major overcrowding at the hospital post-delivery (mid-December 2011 must have been a very fertile time for ladies in the AV). They gave us the option of going home Thursday or Friday, and we chose Friday, until they informed us they'd be moving another family into our room, which was the size of a walk-in closet to begin with. You couldn't have shot us out of a cannon faster than we hightailed it out of there on Thursday night. We brought Baby D home, and spent the next few days staring at him in awe. When the doggies arrived home, they sniffed him briefly, but didn't show much interest at first. Flash forward to today, they are obsessed with him! Tess and Buster seem to know now that he is part of their family, and they consider it their calling to protect him (and lick him profusely).
My first few weeks of motherhood were everything all rolled into one: terrifying, difficult, tiring, fun, joyful, and amazing. Breastfeeding is hard, don't let anyone tell you differently. I decided to take on the challenge in spite of my concerns over how to treat my migraines while breastfeeding. I am so glad I did. Nursing times are precious moments. Baby D and I get to experience that special bond, and yes, I feel a selfish sense of accomplishment that comes from knowing I am doing something good for my baby. I certainly don't judge anyone who chooses not to breastfeed, whatever the reasoning. There may come a time when I am not able to anymore as well. I've been lucky with my migraines so far, and hope to enjoy it and maintain the breastfeeding as long as I can.
When Baby D was right around 3 weeks old, he developed a fever and rash late one night. We took him to urgent care, where they told us it was probably an allergy, and to take him to our pediatrician in the morning. The pediatrician sent us to the hospital for a work-up. They decided to admit him to the hospital, run tests, and keep him for two days until all the test results came back. This involved inserting an IV into my little angel's arm, which was possibly the worst thing I've ever gone through, and it didn't even happen to me. The nurse had a hard time getting it in, and his screams of pain pierced my heart. They also did a spinal tap. For that one I was sitting in a chair with nurses patting me sympathetically on the back. I managed to hold it together until T arrived, when I pretty much collapsed into sobs. Luckily Baby D acted quite healthy during our hospital stay, being very feisty with the nurses when they tried to take his vitals. The staff in the peds unit was top notch, and they really made a bad situation bearable for us. After all the tests thankfully came back negative and it was determined he probably had a minor virus, we were able to take Baby D home. Since our ordeal I have heard from several people who had similar experiences with their newborns. It seems it is quite common. Still, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. We left all the more grateful for Baby D's strength and good health.
We've been home from the hospital for a week now, and in some ways it was like starting all over again. There has definitely been a readjustment period with the breastfeeding, his sleep schedule, etc. I couldn't believe it when T informed me that Baby D was one month old yesterday. It truly has been a whirlwind. My first month as a mother has been the happiest of my life, even with all the struggles. I can't wait to watch my baby boy grow big and strong (but not too fast!).
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