Backed into a corner

That's a huge understatement of how I feel right now. Breastfeeding Alex has always been rocky - slow gaining in the beginning, the whole FTT/low supply song and dance and lets not forget the bad latch - of which I have what I hope is not a permanent reminder (callous - ouch). There have been some nice parts, don't get me wrong - but for the most part it has been a constant struggle. Even now I'm downing the fenugreek and blessed thistle again to boost my supply so he'll hopefully give me some rest, but after a year of toe-curling pain and not a few tears I am really ready to be done.

My mind is at war with itself. There is a big part of me that continues for the reason that I never made it this far with Michael - our nursing relationship was dysfunctional from the start and ended when he got his first cold and went on a strike. There there's the whole WHO recommendation of nursing for two years minimum which has been beaten into my head from the message boards I frequent. There's the fact that Alex is only 13 months and still such a baby and really does need it, not only for nutrition but the emotional attachment it brings.

Those are all reasons to continue, there's also the fact that constant sleep deprivation is taking a heavy toll on me. I never fully heal - the past year has been one long series of colds that never quite go away. My body is always achy because it never gets the restorative sleep it needs to function. I am starting to have some serious concerns about the toll this is taking on my health - both physical and mental. My brain is mush and I am not nearly the parent I know I can be to my kids because I'm always just shy of complete exhaustion. Hell, so much of my energy is focused on just getting through the day that I rarely get to just sit back and enjoy my kids.

I've made the decision to night-wean and then onto complete weaning if that doesn't work. We are starting the arduous process of registering Michael with the school district for kindergarten and in my current mental state there is no way I can be the advocate I need to be for him. I can't skip meetings or doing things because I'm too exhausted or just can't muster the mental energy necessary to interact with people beyond the baristas at my local Starbucks. While Alex has some pretty big needs right now too, I can't sit this process out - it's too damned important. I want to do what's best for myself and my kids and unfortunately that might mean not breastfeeding any more.

I'm probably trying to convince myself here more than the faceless internet. I've made it to 13 months nursing and that's no small feat considering the social climate and the obstacles I've faced. I'd like to continue to do so, but the time is fast approaching where I'm going to have to make that hard decision between doing what's best for me and my family verses the standard that others have set.

This is not what I signed up for

There are few parenting tasks that are as hard as administering medicine to a child who doesn't want to take it. Michael's RAD has reared its ugly head once more which means I have to use the big guns - the nebulizer and albuterol. Not only does the albuterol make him wired beyond belief, but he has once again developed a huge aversion to the nebulizer again. There's nothing quite like pinning a 40lb/45" preschooler who is half a step away from complete hysterics while keeping a mask on his face for the ten minutes or so it takes for the albuterol to completely vaporize. Thankfully, his respirations aren't that bad but he's having retractions so skipping it isn't an option and I have no desire to make a late night visit to CHOP if his respirations get high which they have a history of doing.

Because misery loves company, Alex is steps (ha) away from walking so I have the joy of a milestone driven sleep regression on top of the white noise of teething. I hate the triteness of the phrase, but This too shall pass has been my mantra. It won't always be this intense and in the grand scheme of things this period is just a drop in the bucket. Unfortunately, that provides little comfort while I'm in the thick of it and ready to sell my soul for sleep and time alone.

We had a fairly quiet Christmas with lots of pictures which I'll get around to posting at some point. John got me Lego Batman for my Nintendo DS and has been working hard to make sure I get some time to actually play it the past few days. Michael loves his WALL-E and EVE action figures and his Matchbox car case is seeing a lot of use. Alex has a new to him walker/ride-on car which isn't seeing use as a walker yet but he's been having a lot of fun playing with the gadgets on it.

Peace has descended on my livingroom for the moment, so I'll take my leave now.

Be careful what you wish for

When I was pregnant, I used to say that I would be secretly pleased if the baby refused bottles. Now, it seems that I have my wish. I'm praying that it's not as dire as it would seem. From the looks of it, he is rejecting the formula and not necessarily the bottle itself. It's a new to him formula - this would be the forth time he's gotten it, and the last time he got it he vomited all over the place from we think a stomach bug. I think we are going to go back to the original one and see if that works. Pumping is an option, but considering he eats on average every 90 minutes during the day and every 3-4 hours at night there is precious little time to pump and when I do get a session in I get very little so it takes me a week plus worth of pumping to get enough for me to go out for a couple of hours in the evening.

I'm trying really hard to see a bright side to this - frankly all I want to do is cry.

I really should be baking a cake...

or at least knitting, but instead I'm here posting.

Alex's Christening is tomorrow and I have to make marinated mushrooms (the Cooks' Illustrated recipe - it's to die for and not the slimy, salad dressing drenched ones you usually see) and a carrot cake (also Cooks' Illustrated - the whole thing gets done in the food processor). Maybe it's the whole second kid thing, maybe it's because my husband worked today and then went straight from work to go out for dinner and a movie with his friend not fully realizing that this is the day before a major event (in his defense he did ask me several times if it was all right, I just didn't feel like explaining to him why it might not be the best of ideas to do this on this specific day so I can't be too mad at him), or maybe it just that I am bone tired, on my own all day and the last thing I want to do is get dressed up to go to Jersey tomorrow and all the hullabaloo that that trip entails.

I've been feeling very slacker-ish recently - actually it would be more precise to say that I've been feeling a lot more introverted. Michael's class had a Mother's Day thing on Friday that I bailed on at the last minute. A few things in my defense - it was pouring rain, Alex was *very* spitty that day and not a little bit colicky, and it wasn't one of Michael's regular school days so I would be bringing both of them over (two buses or a bus and a 5 block walk). The last classroom party we went to back at Halloween put both Michael and me into sensory overload - I don't want to even imagine what it would do to Alex. The other thing that had me more than a bit gun shy was having to nurse Alex there (a very real possibility given his mood that day). I think I've been doing very well on the whole NIP front - I've been working very hard on just concentrating on the fact that I'm feeding my child and nothing more. This had been going well for me until I started to nurse Alex in a waiting room at CHOP and had a nurse run out to tell me that they had a room where I could nurse if I wanted. Firstly, it was phrased as a question - something to which I could have just smiled and said, "No thanks, we're fine here." We had just finished his GI appointment and he was cranky from the exam so we had to go through the whole suck-suck-suck, pop off and cry for a minute, suck-suck-suck thing which always puts me on edge. When this practically out of breath nurse spurted this not-really-a-question question to me all in one breath I was so taken aback that I just humbly unlatched Alex, gathered my stuff and followed her back to an empty exam room where I had to spend not a few minutes calming both me and Alex down so he could eat. Needless to say, my NIP confidence has been a bit shattered by this. Not, and I do repeat, not that this is a valid reason to ask anyone to not nurse - but it is downright impossible for me to be a discrete nurser. I will most likely never be one of those women that you walk up to and never realize that she is breastfeeding. I have huge breasts (even with Alex being three months old they are still bigger than his head), I can only comfortably nurse in the football hold, and I have a fussy eater so a few pop-offs and screams are pretty much guaranteed per feeding - oh and my areola are a good 3" in diameter, no way they aren't showing. I can't even imagine being able to nurse him in any other position unless he's the one actually holding my breasts in place since their shape and direction seem destined for football hold unless steel struts or a third arm are somehow involved in the process. We did go out two more times since then and I did nurse him at John's library which almost doesn't count as NIP since he's got my back there. I also nursed him at a playground - oh and a great big "Thank You" to the other moms/nannies who just watched Michael run out the gate while I was calling for him to stop while I was nursing his brother who was doing his best "scream at the breast because this should be as uncomfortable for mom as possible" performance, your apathy was great appreciated and if your intent was to discourage us from visiting that playground you can sleep secure in the knowledge that we most likely will not be returning. Yeah, not bitter about that in the least.

Ranting aside, it's going to take me a bit before I get my sea-legs back, so to speak. Before I would try to time outings around nursing simply for logistical purposes - Michael has poor impulse control and his auditory processing isn't the greatest so he does not respond well to verbal commands (even less so than a typical 3/4 year-old) so nursing has to take place in an area where he's fairly contained. Now I have to contend with the spectre of the not-really-a-question question - nursing somewhere I think is safe only to have the rug pulled out from under me. There is more to say on this subject but I'm starting to become incoherent and it's getting late so I'll end it abruptly here.

In other, nonparenting news I am two pattern repeats away from finishing the first of my toe-up monkey socks, the ones that I cast-on for just after Alex was born. I also have blown through all 16 volumes of Fullmetal Alchemist a most excellent manga and I just finished the first novel I've read in ages - Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman. I bought myself a new summer wardrobe on Thursday - a size bigger than I want it to be, but now I have clothes that fit and look nice on me so I can hopefully start feeling betting in my skin. I also ordered a solarveil sling from Sleeping Baby Productions. After a lot of measuring, I figured out that my Zolowear really is a bit small for me so I'm hoping the extra length in my SBP sling will help me with learning how to nurse in it.

All right - it's 11pm, and I have a cake to make. 'night all.

I wasn't ready for him to learn this yet

Alex had his three month growth spurt last week which meant I was not the best of moms to either of my kids - getting your sleep in 1 hour intervals will do that to a person. Between the hell that is extreme sleep deprivation and my poor little man's reflux issues, Michael has definitely been getting the short end of the stick and I've been trying desperately to break the cycle of any attention equals good attention. We went out on Saturday morning to one of the local playgrounds so we could get out of the house and Michael could play for a bit. They were having a flea market to benefit the playground, so I took a quick look around to see if maybe I could find a truck or car for Michael. I lucked out with finding this past year's Hess truck - a monster truck with a pair of motorcycles in the back. It makes some awful noises which was my objection to it back at Christmas time, but they let me have it for $5 so I got it for him (and thankfully the batteries have just died).

We then went into the playground. It was an older group of kids - my guess is that most of them had parents involved in the flea market. One of the boys zoomed in on Michael and his flashy toy. They seemed to be playing well enough together (i.e. the older kid wasn't being too manipulative), so I sat down with Alex to have some of my coffee. Then I saw this kid rev the monster truck up and launch it at Michael's face. I ran to get Michael (only a small split in his lip, thank God), and this kid told me a few times how it was an accident. I was comforting Michael and trying to explain to this child that even if it was an accident, you don't throw things at someone else's face and the Michael was hurt. He protested once more about it being an accident and then ran off. The part that bothers me the most is that even with my agreement that it was an accident and the fact that I could have been screaming bloody murder at him with some choice swear words and I wasn't - there was never an "I'm sorry" to Michael. Michael was really hurt and told me so after the boy ran off. It was the first time I saw a crack develop in his innocence and it was all I could do to not sit down and cry with him too.

Michael calmed down after a bit and resumed playing. I had to step in once again when an older child's version of playing was rollerblading away with one of the motorcycles. After that intervention, the first child came back and Michael started whimpering, "He hurt me," every time he saw him which just broke my heart. At that point I just gave up and packed us up to head for McDonald's for lunch - a day for it if there ever was one.

I think we'll be sticking with weekday park visits for a while. The worst part is that we were just starting to break the negative attention cycle but this lovely trauma pushed us back into it again. Lots and lots of deep breathing and reminders that he still needs a lot of loving even if I'm tapped out from coping with Alex and his GERD. I'm counting down the days to May 6th when we see the GI at CHOP and praying that I can get Alex some more relief. The spitting and the no-naps thing I can cope with, it's the screaming fits that I want to get rid of because they are the hardest for both me and Michael to deal with, not to mention the pain Alex must be in to scream like that in the first place.

Off to have dinner - then it's Fullmetal Alchemist and to bed.

Jenn and the no good, rotten, awful, "Please make it Stop!!" day

• Hives (on me)


• spit up which required two changes of clothes (mine) and got in my hair


• found out the the person I spoke to when scheduling the baptism didn't know what she was talking about and confirmation is scheduled for that afternoon - this is the 27th


• way too quick to yell and even scream at Michael


• TOUCHED OUT! I thought I knew what this meant, but that was before I was breastfeeding exclusively. Michael dragging his fingers lightly on my arm or touching my hair is almost painful.


• screaming baby - 3 times at home and twice in public


• flipping hives


• the can of formula that I bought to have for emergencies back-up and for when I can't pump enough; the can that I paid too much for as penance because it's *gulp* Nestle Good Start since I'm sure the constipation was due to the regular milk based formula he had the week before; the can that I found Michael playing with in the kitchen because it was left on the washing machine; the can that needs to be thrown out because Michael had his hands in it


• the fact that I am beating myself up because my child has 4 oz of formula every-other week


• problems with my package


• found out there may be a very good reason why the Keen shoes I bought were on super discount and why the line was discontinued

The only reasons I don't have cigarettes right now are (1) I have no cash and (2) I'm too fucking tired to even think of putting on clothes to go get some.

I am going to have ice cream and junk food and then go to bed.

Ups and downs

I finally admitted that I am close to another crisis point yesterday. I really don't think it's chemical this time 'round, but sleep deprivation driven - if I could manage to get a 3-4 hour stretch of sleep a day, things would be a million times better. Problem is I have a breastfed 2 month-old with GERD and an almost 4 year-old with autism, situations not exactly conducive to sleep. I was talking to S yesterday and mentioning how sleep deprived I am and then in the next sentence started talking about this new quilt shop that just opened and how they have machines for use for $5/hour and I was planning on getting over there on Saturday so I could get some sewing done. She gently asked me about needing sleep and I just sat there for a moment and let some tears out. Hard as it is, she's completely right. Aside from taking care of my kids and my household I am spending ungodly amounts of energy keeping my perceptions based in reality (i.e. John wanting to listen to his I-pod and play his video game does not mean he finds me incredibly unattractive and is planning how to leave me as quickly as possible -- ah the joys of Borderline Personality Disorder).

That said, there will likely not be a hand knit sweater for Alex's baptism, I have no idea if I'll ever get any of the socks done for the 2008 Sock Knitters Pentathlon let alone the toe-up monkey sock I've been working on since Alex was born, and sewing Mei tai baby carriers is right out. Sleep has to be my top priority before I slip too far and it just sucks.

How's that for a ray of sunshine?

Zen

I am seriously having the hardest time getting into a zen-state with Alex. The fact that I am typing this one-handed should give you a pretty good picture. I am very close to saying the hell with my back and using the sling in the evening again. My back may hate me for it but he'll sleep, my chiropractor will have a lot of business, and most importantly I won't be holing in tears and screams when he wakes for the umpteenth time after being rocked and held for an hour.

Sorry folks, sleep deprivation is my life right now, so that's what you get.

---

ETA
It's not really that bad, just hit a crisis point earlier. I just found out I'll have some company knitting a sweater that I hope to have done for Alex's baptism at the end of the month. I don't feel like going through all the hoops I'd have to to pump enough milk to go out Tuesday night, but I'll definitely pop Alex in the wrap and head out to Starbucks for some music and knitting therapy. Here's hoping he'll sleep for me.

Sorry for typos - still one-handed and in the dark.

Comfort food

I'm just getting ready to do a white wine and chicken broth reduction, season it with thyme and thicken it with a roux to serve over rice and some grilled chicken (alas, not the real stuff, but Perdue ready stuff). This is one of my favorite, I feel like crap things to eat.

We took Alex to the ped's office for his follow up and I found out he lost an ounce from last Thursday. The ped was not concerned by this at all, but it definitely spooked me, especially given how I had to explain why he gained so slowly in the beginning several times to the doctors at the hospital. After a trip to the park which was probably a mistake and two blocks of crying on Alex's part because he woke up hungry and wrangling Michael, pushing a stroller and holding crying newborn requires a few more arms than I currently have, I was completely fried. As I was sitting on the couch with Alex who was in a great quiet/alert state everything came crashing in - the two trips to the ER, strep, fire alarms, slow weight gain. I just sat there hugging him to my chest trying not to become hysterical so I wouldn't spook Michael. It's all been too fucking much. I know the saying goes that God doesn't give you more than you can handle, but he's been skirting way too close to my breaking point for my comfort and if I hear one more person tell me how great I'm handling things I think I will scream.

Wallowing over for now. Michael and I both need to be fed - me especially since the past few days have been abysmal in terms of my eating and I don't want to start that song and dance again. Here's hoping some non-Euclidean knitting will cure what ails me (I know how to knit mobius strips now - how cool is that?).

Another one to scratch off the list

sorry in advance for typos - doing this one-handed

We just got home from our first overnight hospital stay - wasn't nearly as horrible as I imagined, but then again I was not there with a deathly ill child. The diagnosis is moderate laryngomalacia and reflux - the ENT saw erosions in his throat. We started zantac this morning and are already seeing some improvement. At least now I don't have to push for meds from the ped and we have a definite dx without the two-month wait list. Alex definitely charmed everone - even got my first big smile.

I'll flesh this out later, he's finally fallen asleep so it's off to bed I go...

A bit much

Not to be outdone by his brother, we are on the way to CHOP for Alex - he'd vomitted 3 x's when I spoke with the nurse (they never called me back from earlier today, grrr) and has had another 3 since I started the troops moving. wish us luck. sorry it looks so awful, typing one-handed while juggling baby.

Keeping me on my toes

Things started to get ridiculous at the beginning of last week. Alex's fussy periods lengthened and became more numerous, Michale started becoming hysterical about going to school, and I'm pretty sure I broke my pinkie toe last Monday. By Wednesday, the second day of complete hysterics on the way to the bus for school, I knew I had to do some serious work with Michael. That day I was able to get them both settled down for a nap at the same time. While they were sleeping I was able to get some housework done and most importantly I was able to get Michael's afternoon snack all set up and good to go for when he woke - amazing what it did for him. After Alex was fed and had some quiet alert time, I got him back to sleep and was able to have a few hours of one-on-one time with Michael. We ate dinner together, played video games, and I stayed with him in his room until he fell asleep without juggling Alex. Thursday he got to spend some special time with John while I was out with Alex at my OB appointment. On Friday we made the trek into tow to meet up with J and her daughter A for a play date of sorts. Saturday my sister came over and took him to the library and then to McDonald's for lunch. Today I took both of them to the park while John straightened for a visit from my in-laws. All of this has really paid off. He is much happier and we have been able to break the any attention equals good attention cycle and it's been wonderful. I've also seen his eating habits improve greatly - he ate fish sticks and had a few bites of cheeseburger on Saturday and Sunday he happily ate an apple and a few slices of cheese for lunch.

For myself I was able to get out of the house on Tuesday evening for my knitting circle. Listening to my new ipod with the volume cranked while I rode Septa by myself was heavenly even though it took me a while to fully relax. Depending on Alex, I'm hoping to get out again this Tuesday evening as well.

All that really leaves is Alex, and since he hasn't been seeing much action he's doing his level best to remedy it. He's been increasingly fussy in the evenings - having episodes where he is screaming angrily and no amount of juggling, swaddling or nursing seems to help. It wasn't happening every evening, but it was getting a lot more frequent. Then his sleep started getting wonky. On Monday morning he could not settle back into a deep sleep. Usually he sleeps for 3 hours, we nurse and whatnot for an hour and a half or so, and then he sleeps for another three hours until it's time to get up for the day. His first chunk of sleep on Sunday night was way shorter than usual and it took a hell of a lot longer to get him settled in the first place. The after he woke he couldn't settle back down - every time I thought he was in a good deep sleep he'd wake right back up. This is becoming the new normal for him. I am writing this now at almost 3 and he has just fallen asleep for real for the first time since a cat nap at 9. After going through this on Saturday night, I remembered something I read, did some searching, and we think we know what's going on.

Since birth, Alex has always had noisy inhalations, in fact they kept him in the nursery for observation for four hours on his birthday because of it. I've had my suspicions for a while now, but holding him last night and watching him be unable to settle into a deep sleep because of the stridor, I finally read up on laryngomalacia and it looks like it's a fit. In addition, all those little behaviors that by themselves don't mean much, are finally adding up and I'm pretty sure he has reflux as well. Not that angry, screaming baby is fun in any way, knowing that it's because he's most likely in pain just makes it all the worse. I'm starting a food diary/behavior log to see if there is any pattern, but my gut is saying it's not dietary on my part but I'm still going to explore it. H gave me some great resources, so I'll be making some phone calls today to get him on wait lists for some docs out at CHOP. Here's a small video clip I shot last night while he was trying to settle that has a good example of the stridor.

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Here's hoping that we can get him feeling better soon. I'm off to bed myself. Michael woke while I was writing and has settled on my side of the bed so I have to nudge him off my pillows so I can get to sleep too. 'night all.

P.S. - Alex is back up and over his birth weight. He weighs 10lbs 5 oz and is just shy of 22 inches long. It's really cool that he gained just shy of a pound in 17 days on just my milk.

Job's got nothing on me

The biblical Job that is.

Michael sprayed himself in the face with carpet cleaner. Noow that the worst of the hysterics are over, we are heading out to the ER.

Seriously - was I Hitler in a previous life or something?

House of Plague Stand Alone Complex

Yes, I am a tremendous geek and due to the fact that Alex has a pretty consistent nursing schedule, I've been catching up with my anime.

Michael has strep. This means I most likely have strep as any requests to not drink out of mommy's cup are pretty much ignored. Aside from my questionable strep status, I also have the nasty virus that's going around. Full-on malaise which is being beat into submission with Emergen-C and ibuprofen, and alternately shivering and sweating buckets. Man, does it ever suck.

On a completely different note, it's amazing how the sound of your infant screaming pretty much erases any trepidation you might have about nursing in public. When we got to the peds office, I filled out the sign-in sheet, wrote a check and practically threw them at the receptionist so I could get to a chair and latch Alex on. We nursed in the waiting room, in the exam room, and at a window table at Starbucks. I will say that at Starbucks I did have the presence of mind to drape my stole over my shoulder so I could cover my midriff - did nothing to cover my gigantic breast as I fervently stuffed my nipple in my incredibly pissed off child's mouth, but I spared everyone the sight of my pale belly flab - must have my priorities straight.

Home again, home again, jiggity jog...

Not that much has changed frankly.

We have heat but can only keep the water on for short periods of time since the water pipe for humidifier is completely shot. The fireman's estimation of the damage was not quite as dire. The problem now is that my landlord is searching for someone to fix things which means a friend who will do it for nearly free or himself which is why things we are still dealing with this shit (yes, this is a swear-worthy situation). We are all home since staying at my mom's would be a logistical nightmare - Michael's already not too stable right now with being sick and his new sibling, explaining to him why we are sleeping at Nana's house tonight would be way more than I could handle.

It's been a really long day and frankly I'm still trying to recover from being woken by the smoke alarm at 6 in the morning. This was not helped by the fact that it looked like Alex was face-down in his crib when I went to check on him. Speaking of Alex, he has just woken up and is expressing his extreme displeasure at not having a nipple in his mouth so I must dash.

To any of my friends reading - I'll give calls in the morning. Just want to hug my boys tonight and this is all the re-hashing I can handle right now.

When it rains, it pours...

Too fried to even think right now, so here's a cut 'n paste from my message board...

Woke to the smoke alarm going off in my house this morning. Didn't smell smoke but the two back rooms were hotter than hell and full of condensation. After a visit from the fire department to make sure all really was well, we found out that our furnace is shot - the humidifier has been leaking for lord knows how long and finally gave up this morning - they told us the bottom of the unit is completed rusted out. So now we have no heat, and no water (they couldn't find the shut-off for the humidifier so ended up turning off the water for the whole house). Thankfully, my sister picked up me and the kids and took me to my mom's while my husband is hanging out at the house waiting for our landlord and the heating guy.

Michael still has this fever to pops up pretty high about once every 12 hours and I have full-on malaise that is being kept at bay with Emergen-C and ibuprofen because I need my wits about me. Knock on wood that Alex is symptom-free, just a bit of congestion.

Sleep deprived ramblings

I've done the math and it looks like I've basically been awake for going on six days now - I haven't had more than 2 hours consecutive or three hours total sleep a day since Sunday. This makes for some very interesting emotions, to say the least, and as a treat I am sharing my garbled thoughts with you, the internet...

I'm pretty sure The Serenity Prayer is going to be something said daily, if not hourly over the next several weeks/months/years. Right now the current last line (which isn't at all witty - sorry for misleading you earlier S) is, "and to not raise my voice at my child for his completely developmentally appropriate behavior." This should give a little clue on how well Michael and we are doing with the transition.

For whatever reason, I no longer feel like I'm a part of my due date club on my message board. I had a scheduled repeat section and I keep reading subtle judgment into every one's responses to how I gave birth. Yes, I know this is classic projection and it's just my usual way of finding something to beat myself over the head with. Despite the hair shirt I am determined to wear about the cesarean, the experience was everything I hoped for and needed it to be. So much trauma from Michael's birth was healed that morning, and I finally had the empowering birth that I wanted, despite it's surgical nature. I'll probably write up a birth story in the next few weeks so I can get all of the good and the bad out there.

We had Alexander's first visit to the peds this morning and it went really well. The ped isn't freaking about his weight loss (he's down to 8lbs 14oz from the 10lbs 2oz at birth) and we are both confident that he'll be back on track by next week. The LC visit last night was great as well - I learned some new positioning/latching tricks which are almost the opposite of what I was told by the LC's at the hospital, and Alexander is feeding well at last. We'll most likely continue with some syringe supplementation (10-20 cc's per feed) through the weekend until his output is back to where it should be, but I have a pump now and my milk is in so we won't need the formula any more.

After all that, it feels wonderful to be falling in love with my new little man. He just seems so tiny compared to my memories of Michael as a newborn. It's even more funny since their birth stats are pretty much identical - Alexander was 10lbs 2oz and 21.5 inches where Michael was 10lbs 3oz and 21.25 inches. It's all down to build, Michael was (and still very much is) a very solid kid, where Alexander seems to lean more towards lanky. I have a feeling that despite his high birth weight, he's going to be on a completely different growth curve from Michael as well.

This weekend, "sleeping when the baby sleeps" is definitely going to be a priority so I can break the hold the sleep deprivation has over me. The next post is all pics and then it's off to nurse and take a nap.

Oh, and by the way, I actually manage to nurse Alexander in the crowded peds waiting room this afternoon - the first time I've ever done it. Yay me!

This just sucks

or to be more precise - it doesn't suck effectively. John just went out for formula and a syringe and the LC has been called. Alexander's output is nonexistant and his latch has degenerated to the point that it's almost all clicks. I really hoped I wouldn't have to deal with this again - here's hoping we can fix it quickly.

Wait, haven't I been here before?

Extremely short version...

B/P 150/90
OB says across the street - if it doesn't come down babe is coming today.
Mad scramble to find someone to take Michael since John is the only librarian at his branch today.
Girding myself for potential fight with OB about babe coming today - no way in hell unless there's some pretty definitive proof that it has to happen.
Win argument with nurse about straight cath to check for protien in urine - something my OB failed to mention to me, I wonder why?
Alarm goes off on the monitor every time it takes mt B/P because it's so low.
Labs come back clean. Get to go home.
Emotionally and physically exhausted.
Babe gets to bake another week and a half - I get to spend long stretches in recliner asking Michael "What are you doing?" when I hear strange things happening behind my back and receive the lovely response of, "Nothing," which will require me to get out of said recliner to see what he's getting into.

Oh - and for the deja vu aspect, did the exact same thing with Michael, just a few weeks earlier. Guess I need to get my bag packed, either that or I didn't bring enough knitting with me this morning.

Note to self - ALWAYS eat a big breakfast before going to the OB's - scale be damned, at least you won't be starving with shaking hands because you've been NPO all morning (didn't get to eat until 1pm).

Thrown for a loop

Just coping with lots of emotional baggage right now and it has completely thrown me off my nesting groove. I am currently sporting the "bitten to the quick" fingernail look and if I got any sleep last night I'd be really surprised. Of course, I was planning on taking Michael out to the park to see K and Z this morning but I ended up unable to move off the couch for most of the morning. At the ripe hour of 1pm, I'm just now starting to feel human and ready to tackle the decluttering in our bedroom, which needs to be done - desperately. S is bringing over a whole slew of baby things tomorrow morning and I'm hoping to get a bunch of stuff over to Good Will so it's out of my house.

In knitting news, all of my gnomey hats are done but the one I washed for my swap package still isn't dried yet so it's going to have to wait for tomorrow which will make it an even 20 days late. I am so embarrassed but at least my partner is domestic at she'll have it by the weekend. I am planning on getting out of the house tonight for my knitting circle, especially since it will probably be the last one I'll attend for a bit. Lets hope the Bean is happy to sleep on mama so she can go out an knit once a week.

Off to get dressed and walk to the corner store for lunch.

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Here's the swap package (still drying and awaiting buttons)...