guilt

growing up, you think you understand guilt.
there are things you do that you know you shouldn't
you tell a lie to save yourself a few times
you forget to do your chores or your homework
you disappoint your parents
you feel guilt.

you get a little older and you feel guilt and think you understand it a bit more--but this time, it's not because of an interaction with others, it's from not meeting your own expectations.
guilt for drinking too much and acting a fool
guilt for eating what you know you shouldn't
guilt for not working out like you had planned to do
you feel guilt.

but, you never truly understand guilt until you are a parent. now, i couldn't have said this, or understood it even, until now. and it's not anyone telling me i should do things differently or anyone "harping" on me, being disappointed in me and my actions or nonactions.
Jaxon doesn't have a way to tell me i should feel guilty, but i do.

Guilt for working full time and not being there day in and day out for him
Guilt for getting frustrated when he wakes me up in the middle of the night
Guilt for wanting to have something in my life that doesn't involve him, that's my
own thing (yoga, pilates, dance)
Guilt for feeling resentful that i don't get to do the things i want
Guilt for everything that i feel i'm not doing right or feeling ignorant about


there is just no way to know how you will react to things and no way to know how you will feel about things until you are in the situation. and you just have to learn to work through it.
the cycle continues...
wow. a learning experience...
what else do i say?

Mommy Vignettes--will be adding more!

1.The plan was natural—all natural. No need for a doctor, or interventions, or “drugs”.
2 AM and it begins.
5:45 AM at the birthing center—full of hope, determination and nervous energy. Everything looks good.
12 hours later…things just aren’t working. Time for a transfer…is hope lost? 6AM—tears flow from two different faces. A decision is made. One that will change everything, but circumstances necessitate. A husband supports his laboring wife through it all.
6:41 AM the cries of a newborn fill the surgery room. Tears flow again, but of joy this time.
When will this end?

2.A dark hospital room, lit only by faint fluorescent seeping through the crack under the bathroom door. A new mother lies in bed, a light sleep allowing her minimal rest for the task awaiting her. A newborn boy snuggled, wrapped under the sheet, nuzzles the neck of his mother, immediately understanding and accepting of her protective touch.
When will this end?

3.Emergency status--that was the diagnosis. Already a pound lost and less than a week old. Refusal to nurse. Crying, crying, crying. The tears stream down three different faces. A new father feeds by syringe. The babe has to have formula, a less than ideal start to this new life.
When will this end?

Nursing:
12 AM
2 AM
4 AM
6 AM
8 AM
and on…
and on…
and on…
When will this end?

4.Sitting all alone. Her husband sleeps a restless slumber, she groggily feeds their child. Resentment builds against the sleeping world. Hoping for some return to normalcy. Feeling alone and smothered.
When will this end?

5.Crying. Diaper change. Crying. Feeding. Crying. What does he need?? Feeling helpless to make it better. Ignorance is an unpleasant taste in her mouth. A trial by fire.
When will this end?

6.Snuggling in the crook of her neck, arms limp at his sides. Breathing in the scent of his mother as he giggles quietly in his sleep, dreaming of who knows what. Breath so sweet, she smiles, in love.
When will this end?

7.A routine: bath, lotion, stories, nursing…he falls asleep on her shoulder. Yay! The mother feels victorious as she sneaks out of the room, prepared to conquer many a line from her “To-Do” list. The feeling of triumph is quickly replaced by despair as cries pierce the air minutes later. The soothing: pat-pat-pat, rock-rock-rock, bounce-bounce-bounce, shh-shh-shh begins…and continues on…
and on…
and on…
and on…
When will this end?

troubles in La-La Land....

poor lil baby Jax. he is NOT a fan of sleeping...or at least not of FALLING asleep. but his mommy and daddy sure are! it is at this time in his life that we are working with a sleep schedule and a bedtime routine. but damn is it unpleasant!

i feel like i'm doing something wrong because it takes anywhere from 1-3+ hours to get the guy "officially" asleep for the night. that seems abnormal. and when he finally does sleep, it's after much soothing on our parts and it seems he's just crashing b/c he's so tired. and then the whole next day he's just off.

we start sometime b/t 5 and 5:30 with a bath/lotion, stories (sometimes) and nursing. then it's rocking in the glider, patting him on the back and the constant "shhhh-shhhh-shhhh". gradually he falls asleep after much twitching and "groaning" (although it is soooo cute!). i continue to pat the back and rock, but take out the "shhh" and pat lighter and lighter until all i'm doing is rocking. just when i think we're good to go, he turns his face back and forth on my shoulder, whimpers and starts his fussing again.

back to the soothing routine of "rock, pat, shhhh....rock, pat shhhh" over and over again. back to sleep he goes, with some protesting along the way. once again i get him to a point where it seems safe and i slowly get up from the glider and make my way to the crib. if i'm lucky, i can get him into the crib and sneak away to eat dinner. oftentimes i'm not lucky and the minute i begin to put him into the crib, or once i've got him in the crib, he starts to cry and wakes up.

soothe.
soothe.
soothe.

try again. this time will i eat my dinner? will i get to spend time with my baby daddy? should i start on the costume or choreography i need to get to? what about that book i have to read for school? maybe i should just go to sleep.

soothe.
soothe.
soothe.

sometimes it repeats over and over again for a few hours until i just give up and take him into the bed with me and we both go to sleep.
sometimes he goes to sleep and wakes up 30 minutes later, then i soothe him back to sleep.

this can't be normal...or can it?

now, i have to say, once he's down, he's out for a few hours...4 if we're lucky. then he's in the bed with me, waking about every 2 hours or so. sometimes to nurse, others because of some other reason--

he's hot...
he want's to stretch out...
he wants to snuggle...
he's wet...
he's gassy...

there are so many variables when it comes to the continuity of his sleep--and mine.

i get so annoyed when i have to keep soothing him over and over again just to get him to go to sleep. i want him to have healthy sleep habits, but i feel like it's such a struggle and i get so frustrated with it...with him. i want to have the opportunity to do what i want to do. i want to feel some freedom, not like i'm tied down and imprisoned in the nursery, destined to spend eternity in the glider while the rest of the world moves on without me. and then i get angry with myself for getting upset with him and for feeling so selfish. he's a baby for crying out loud---what does he know? this is how he is...he can't help it. we are his whole world right now.

and then i think i need to just accept it for what it is and learn to work with it. deal with it. he'll only be in this stage for a short period of time. he WANTS to snuggle with me and sleep on my chest. he won't want to do that in a short time. before i know it, he'll be off on his own--married, a child of his own, forgetting to call his mother.

geez, i'm getting ahead of myself. but it does help, in some ways to think of the impending future. it allows me to see the other side of this struggle and to appreciate the good parts of it. to see it for the positive.

and i just can't help it--i love, love, love that little boy snuggled up in the crook of my neck, breathing in my scent, grabbing hold of my shirt, drooling on my shoulder....and i don't want him to grow up too fast.

so, i'll deal with the struggle for sleep, knowing that in no time at all, he'll be sleeping the days away and i'll be fighting to get him up in the morning.

how do i love thee? let me count the ways...

Jaxon, I love you...:


*when you're crying and i swear you say, "Ma!Ma!"...and the i hold you and you calm down...
*the sweet smell of your milk breath
*your smile and your "flirty" eyes
*how you giggle in your sleep
*how you like to play now
*how you get soooo excited when i give you kisses
*how you're ticklish on your bellybutton
*how you loooooove "mommy milk" now
*when you snuggle and bury your head in the crook of my arm and bring your legs up like you're still in the womb
*your intense stretching
*how i've noticed you stretch like me---who knew it was hereditary?
*when music and dancing (while holding you) puts you to sleep
*all the little noises you make in your sleep
*your "monkey" feet
*your reddish hair


there areso many more...i'll have to update it later

HELP!! i am a milk machine! (or maybe just a cow...)

got milk? i do. and the Baby Jax prefers it to anything else. and while that IS a good thing, i feel like i am one big set of milk-producing boobies, ready to be chomped upon.

who calms the crying baby? the milk machine.
who gets up at all hours of the night? the milk machine.
who is at his beck and call? the milk machine.
who has an overactive let down? the milk machine.
you want to gulp down your food cause ya got somewhere to go, somethin to do, people to see? come to the milk machine.

poor baby Jax who regularly gets sprayed in the face, gulps down his food so fast and loudly, i swear the kid's done in 5-10 minutes... and has the air bubbles to prove it.

i worry:
how can i feed this little piglet enough AND pump so that there's a supply for a night out, or when i go back to work?
how can anyone calm him down when he's upset---they're not the milk machine.

in some ways that makes me really happy...and in other ways, i think it really sucks ass.

but what the babe wants, the babe gets...and i wonder, when do i get mine? what would i want anyway? hmmmmm...i'll get back to you on that one.

grieving

there is a certain amount of grieving one has to do in life. it's part of what makes us human and humble...and what makes us realize our mortality which is essential to living life the way it was meant to be.
grief usually is when something is lost--a loved one, a memento, an opportunity...
but grieving also happens at birth. you grieve for the "loss" of your "former" life. you grieve for the loss of actually being pregnant. and you grieve when the birth doesn't happen the way you envisioned and planned for all those months. of course, you aren't in control of much when it comes to being pregnant and giving birth, but you hope you'll have the opportunity to experience this birth the way you planned. and when it doesn't happen that way, it's hard to accept it and move on.
granted you have a beautiful little being living and breathing because of all the love and hard work you did BEFORE the birth. and that's what really counts. but when you feel like all the things you did to get yourself ready to give birth really didn't matter because your ideal birth was taken away from you in the end, it hurts. and you grieve.
you second guess the things you did from the time you knew you were in labor and you wonder what could you have done differently? this wasn't the way it was "supposed" to be. you feel like it affects your recovery--would that have been different if things would have worked out for you? you feel like it affects the way your body looks. you feel like it affects the things you can physically do now--you've had major abdominal surgery.
that's the most difficult thing of all. knowing that throughout the pregnancy, surgery and unnecessary interventions are what you wanted to avoid. you're healthy, active and fit. so of course, there's no way you could need help getting this baby out. but in the end it's not up to you. it never was.
and for that, you grieve.

breastfeeding is hard to do...at first

in the hospital, Jaxon didn't get a "proper" latch. in fact it was downright painful. i was bleeding and raw and sore and scabbed over. the lactation consultants there suggested a nipple shield. i honestly wish i had said "no". this made it more difficult for us to feed and actually hurt worse.

for something that is supposed to be so natural, it sure is difficult.

at one point, he wouldn't even take to the shield. so, my baby, who was SUPPOSED to be a natural born, water baby but came into the world on an epidural and a c-section wouldn't breastfeed. no nipple, no nipple shield, just crying and screaming and losing weight and dehydration.

the woes of a first-time mom.

when we were discharged from the hospital, he weighed 7lbs, 5 oz... a bit lower than his birthweight of 8lbs, 1oz, but all still within the normal range. by this point we had given in and given him some formula here and there so he would eat, but this was done with MUCH hesitation. we didn't want our baby to be a formula baby, just like we didn't want him to be all drugged when he was born. but things change, i guess.

the day after we were discharged, he had gone for more than 16 hours without eating and hadn't had much in the way of dirty diapers. we were worried, so we took him to an after hours clinic. he was definitely dehydrated, weak and had lost a whole pound since he'd been born. according to the doc, we were in "emergency" territory now. they sent us home with a pack of formula and me crying b/c things just weren't happening the way i had envisioned for the last 10 months.

we brought a lactation consultant to the house (a friend of mine) and she worked with us extensively for about 2 hours. why couldn't the ones in the hospital be more like her?!?!?

i started pumping and continued to try to feed Jaxon--who continued to not be very interested, and my husband began finger feeding him with a curve-tipped syringe. we would put expressed breastmilk into the syringe and Jaxon would suck on my husband's finger while my husband slowly squirted breastmilk into Jaxon's mouth. of course, at this point, we still had to supplement with formula.

it began to work. Jaxon started gaining weight (we had borrowed a scale) and he seemed to like the milk. plus, since i was pumping, i had more milk and we were able to stop supplementing. we continued to work with the latch.

it was a very tough few weeks. there was lots of crying--from both me and Jaxon. there was lots of frustration--from all of us. and there was quite a bit of pain involved as well--for me.

now, Jaxon is 3 weeks and a day. he loves his mommy and wants to nurse pretty frequently. sometimes the latch is still pretty painful, but mostly we've gotten the hang of it. gone are the feedings with the syringe. sometimes, i miss that simply b/c it was so cute to watch my husband feed our son this way... and it saved me from having to get up in the middle of the night every time to feed him (as long as i had pumped).

but, at the same time, i am glad we are past it. it was difficult and very trying. not the way i had hoped. i am glad now that Jaxon and i get to bond during his feedings. i am glad that he prefers me to formula or the bottle or to the syringe.

if i ever have another child and end up in the hospital again, i will know better what to do and what not to do. and i will definitely not hesitate to bring in my friend to work with me instead of the consultants at the hospital (not that they aren't educated, they just can't give you the time and attention you need to make it successful).

and so we go.