Saturday, May 12, 2012

Mother's Day

Tomorrow is Mother's Day.  This is my first year as a mother.  I know the weather is supposed to be HOT and beautiful and we are having friends over tomorrow night for a medical skills refresher prior to some festival volunteering in a month.  I don't know if G has anything special planned.  I would be a HUGE liar if I said I didn't hope for at least a card but I really don't need anything special.  I want time with G and R.  I want some time together as a family. 

Today, R slept in (after a nursing strike last night and LOTS of crying I am not surprised she needed a little extra sleep) this morning.  I woke up to nurse her before going to Zumba and when we were done I snuggled her in next to G.  I hoped she would let me get out the door before waking up and demanding his full attention as I knew he didn't get a lot of sleep and his pitiful sleepy face is too much for me to resist and I would have stayed home.  She cuddled back up with him and napped a bit longer.  I came home to the two of them happily wandering about the front yard gardens smiling and drooling.  I got cleaned up and took R to meet up with some girlfriends at the St John's street fair.  R passed out in the Ergo and slept for the next 3 hours.  Growth spurt anyone?  We hit the store after the fair and got things for dinner and lunch quinoa quiches for next week.  We spent some quality sofa time with G before he had to leave for work and then Amy came over. 

Amy is G's sister and my personal life raft.  During the first two weeks of R's life I didn't want anyone around.  I was still recovering from my plan B birth and the hormones made me think that I didn't want anyone other than mom and G to hold R.  I have written about that time...it was not pretty.  Anyway, I didn't want anyone else around.  I knew Amy and I had talked about her being our house helper after the baby arrived but I was regretting that and wishing for plywood to board up the door against ANYONE coming over.  My Mom had my number though and invited Amy over almost every night for chores and dinner.  She would do some house stuff like laundry, vacuum, change our sheets and then she would stay for dinner, hold R for a little bit while I tried not to cry at the dinner table and then she headed home.  Lather, rinse, repeat nearly every day for the first 2 weeks.  It only recently dawned on me that my mom knew exactly how I felt then and did it anyway because she knew how it would manifest later.  Last week in the midst of sleep regression hell and G's work week I was having a particularly down day.  I felt honest to goodness depressed and was so sad and scared about everything big and small.   When G left for work I noted how crappy I felt and how I had tried to nap about 10 times that day with no success.  I noticed my feelings and told myself that if I still felt this way in 3 days I was going to call the midwives because this was not 'me'.  When Amy came over after work I asked if she had time to stay so I could go to an exercise class.  I wasn't even sure I wanted to go but as she picked up R and they started singing and cooing and dancing around happily I started to feel better.  I felt like I could go and know unequivocally, that she would be in loving hands and even if she screamed the entire 90min I was away, she was screaming in the arms of someone who loved her and someone who had been around her from the very day she was born.  Amy was my savior.  Class was fun.  I came home full of endorphins, dripping sweat and happy to see my baby girl.  Those 90 min were all I needed to refresh my perspective and get back in the game.  I was eternally grateful for Amy that night and continue to be every day as I watch her bond with R grow.  This is what family is all about.  I have my mother to thank for that. 

Sleep Regression

My mother recently accepted a new job in a different state with a fantastic salary, great opportunities to use her invaluable skills and help bring midwifery to a very worthy population and a signing bonus.  My mom has been struggling to make it as a realtor and a home health nurse in Maine's failing economy for a while.  She has not been struggling to make ends meet but at nearly 60, she deserved more than the shit can real estate market had for her and MUCH MUCH more than the whack-a-doodles at the visiting nurse gig were offering anyone.  My mom is an amazing midwife and she and my dad built several brilliant practices in the hay day of her career.  This new practice is very lucky to have her.  They should have given her TWO signing bonuses.  Anyway, she accepted the job and promptly booked a flight out to see us.  It was a quick trip.  Just 4 days here and 2 days travel time but it was SO nice.  I was 2.5 weeks postpartum when she left and I was so devastated to see her go.  I was a big soggy hormonal mess.  I was so looking forward to showing her how competent and capable a mother I am.  The 2 weeks leading up to her visit I felt Ramona had really started to blossom as a little curious person.  She was so much more interactive and she didn't seem to spend nearly as much time pissed off and frustrated.  She was a lot of fun actually.

I had a realization about 4 days before mom was due to arrive.  Your baby is not like a dog.  The pediatrician's office is not going to send you a little reminder note to tell you to schedule your well baby visits or vaccinations....this is what we call YOUR RESPONSIBILITY as a PARENT.  YOU ARE THE ADULT.  Yeah, R was 11 weeks old on the nose, the day I scheduled her 8 week well baby visit.  I know this doesn't seem like much lag time but it is indicative of just how terrible a mother I am.  I had thought about it weeks earlier in the middle of the night but I honestly, rolled over, falling back to sleep thinking, "someone will tell me when it is time to take her for shots".  Uh NO Anna.  That is your job.  Not some office manager with a stack of "forget me not" cards and a pile of stamps.  You have the baby.  You keep the baby safe.  I swear to god, I would probably forget to change her diapers if she didn't hate being wet so much and squawk at the slightest dampness.  GAHHH!  I NEED AN ADULT!

So, yes, the day I scheduled it I had been hoping to wait until mom was here so we could go together and she could hold R while she got her pokes and then I could be the rescuer and nurse and soothe and make it all better.  Well, that may be great on Lifetime Movie Network but here in the real world, my pediatrician is slammin' busy and had one slot left before June...ya know, June...the month when R should be getting her 4 month shots.  The slot was first thing in the morning.  The day mom arrived.  I sucked it up and took R to the appointment.  My doc and I talked about alternative vax schedules as agreed on which ones we felt were vital for her to have now and which ones we would rather wait on.  I felt so calm and responsible.  Then the nurses came in and BAM! R got two shots, one in each thigh.  The volume was NOTHING compared to how much she had for the antibiotics at the hospital at birth but Uggh!  She cried her wounded, hurt feelings cry.  The one that literally instigates letdown EVERY time I hear it.  I tried to nurse but she was too upset to nurse much.  Sad sad girl.  I popped her in the ergo and we went for a walk.  I spent the whole time telling her how she is a big strong girl and I want her to stay healthy and strong and so that is why we have to get shots.  I tried to explain to her that I was sorry they hurt but they were to keep her healthy and safe and she wasn't going to need any more for a few months.  This may seem like hippie hogwash but the more I watch her and the more I process our course at the hospital, the more I believe she deserves explanations before sucky things happen and afterwards.  Her brain understands WAY more than I know.

My mom arrived that night and everyone slept pretty well.  The next day R wanted to be held all day and to nurse all day.  I figured she may have a cranky day or two.  I know I always feel like shit after shots.  The flu shot takes me down for 2 days every time.  I bought some baby Tylenol and was ready to snuggle her up and make her feel better.  I thought it would be harder on her than it would be for me.....I was mostly wrong.  The next 4 days were a blurr of tears, screaming, fitfull sleep,  no sleep, crying in the dark and nursing every hour through the night.  It was hell.  I am not one to complain.  I love my daughter more than I know what to do with.  I would lay down in traffic for that kid but holy shit.  She was upset for 5 days.  I don't think I experienced a REM cycle for the first 3.  I started to crack around day 4.  G and mom finally took over.  They scooped up R and sent me back to bed.  I was sobbing.  It felt like week 3 all over again.  I was so distressed.  I felt like a switch had flipped and I no longer knew this tiny crying lump in my arms.  Whoever she was, she hated me.  That much was pretty clear.  It was SO hard.  I just tried to keep it together.  I told her I was sorry she was sad and that I love her very much and then I held her and rocked her as she cried.  It was all I could do.  Just about day 8, when I was sure I had descended into the 8th circle of hell things shifted.  She slept for about 2 hours at a stretch that night and I thought I could conquer the world.  My sister in law came over and I could see through my depression/sleepless fog that I needed to go to Zumba.  I handed the baby over and went to class.  I came back happy to see my daughter and full of endorphins.  The next night, I went for a run.  My first run since 24 weeks or whenever I ran that 13 miles with Amy and nearly shattered my pelvis.  Ramona continued to stretch her sleep back towards normal.  Last night she slept for 3hrs in between nursings.  I feel human again.

The point of this whole story is how fragile my sanity/happiness/confidence is these days.  Lack of sleep is my kryptonite.  Even three hours of sleep is enough to leave me feeling human.  90 minute cycles....not so much.  I tried to nap with her on these super rough days but it seemed like she would fall asleep and just as I would hit deep sleep she would wake up and need a change or to be repositioned.  I felt like I had committed a crime in a country with very lax human rights laws...it was SO hard.  I find that I don't get angry with HER when this sort of stuff unravels.  I get frustrated with myself for not knowing how to fix it.  I don't get angry, I get desperate.  I get "Tell me what to do and i will harvest my own kidney and sell it on Ebay.  Just make it STOP!"  I have never experienced the frantic feeling of parental panic before.  In all my years as a nanny I never felt so viscerally triggered.  Makes sense, I know. It is just so interesting to me.

So, here we are, rounding the corner to week 12.  She had a 6hr hunger strike last night and I thought my breasts were going to burst but otherwise, we seem to have returned to our normal charming selves.  She is growing and learning to use her body.  She likes to have "alone time" in her bed or her chair where she plays with her spider or stares at the mobile for 30-45min happily.  She is becoming more and more interactive day by day and I just love being here for it.  I know that this was only the first of many MANY hurdles we will clear together but I am glad we made it through in one piece.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Hunger Games ** Warning! Lady Bits Post**

I have to start with the disclaimer that I have not read the books or see the movie.  I figure I will wait out the craze and get to the books eventually and probably see the movie about the time Ramona is leaving for university.  No, this is a different kind of hunger games....

I went to the midwife this week and had an IUD placed.  I opted for the copper one without the side of crazy making hormones.  It sucked going in but not because the insertion was bad, because speculums suck in still healing vaginas and the one Linda used was big and cold and sucky.  She used numbing gel on my cervix so that didn't hurt at all.  It is really just the very odd sensation of tugging and shuffling around down there that is straight up disconcerting.  I have heard friends say similar things about Cesarean birth.  There is something very "Gack" about feeling outside forces move around visceral tissues or tissues that you have never seen face to cervix(?) and you are unaccustomed to having moved around in such a way.  Anyway, we had a good appointment.  The IUD went in without any trouble and I didn't pass out or vomit this time.  Linda asked how everything else was going and we said "great!  Sleep regression and total lack of sex drive were just what we were hoping for and dreaming of when we pictured parenthood".  She smiled and nodded knowingly and said "Ahh yes.  This is very common.  50%-70% of women experience a significant lack of interest.  There is the hormonal aspect but there is also the fact that you have a baby on you almost all of the time.  You don't have the same "skin hunger".  You aren't longing for physical touch the way we do when we exist more in our own bodies.  Right now your body is not your own and sometimes you just want to NOT be touched.  Its all very normal.  Sex WILL come back into your lives.  Rest assured."  Reason #986 why I fucking love that woman.  She stands there in the office doorway nearly six-feet tall in an awkward 1980's pastel tunic top and a blazer with shoulder pads that are entirely superfluous for her solid build and she quotes statistics and studies and she makes me feel like I am smart, important and most importantly of all, NORMAL.  She is not a flowery person but she has a way of comforting you that feels deeper than squishy words.  It is like her belief in women and in nature and science is so strong it is contagious.  So yeah, long story endless, I love her.  I am happy to have my IUD in place and hearing her say that actually made me feel a little spark of romance for G.  Normal is sexy :) I may not have the skin hunger that once drove me to want to snuggle and cuddle him for hours on end but I have a hunger to feel that way about him and that seems to be a very good place to start.