While I was pregnant, I had constant cravings for Taco Bell. ...and it was bad. I probably would have done just about anything for a Crunchwrap. Why? ...who the Hell knows. Pregnancy cravings are funny that way.
(this is not a joke)
Most nights, I would dream about Taco Bell. In every dream, I'd get in my car and get ready to go to Taco Bell. I'd be all excited because I was finally getting to have it. Every night, I would wake up right before getting my food. This pissed me off.
I thought it would end when I had the kid...and it did...but not without a final goodbye.
One night...right after having Xander, I had a dream about Taco Bell. I was getting in my car to go to Taco Bell. In my dream I said to myself, "No more dreams about having Taco Bell! Now that I've had the kid, I get to have it for real and satisfy that craving!"...only to wake up again without Taco Bell. That's some cruel shit right there....
Monday, September 27, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Concerns and milestones
Xander is one month old today.
He is holding his head up even more than when he was born, hasn't lost that mop of hair, he's more interested in looking at things around him and responds even more to me. He's alert and curious and starting to squeal and coo, it's adorable.
On a completely different note...
I'm very worried. Since he was born I'd had increased anxiety, that was never a question. ..however, in the last two weeks, that anxiety has turned into some serious, SERIOUS depression. With very little warning, I will quite suddenly become deeply depressed. I will hate myself, I will hate Xander and I will close myself off from everyone. While this CAN frequently happen if I've missed a dose of my antidepressant, much of the time it doesn't matter in the least.
Here is a GOOD night...
Last night I had taken both of my antidepressants. I was golden - I was sure that I wouldn't have any problems with depression or anger. I'd be fine. Simon was off at his sleep study and my mother-in-law was in bed. It was about 10pm and I was feeling good.
Around midnight, Xander has been asleep (but periodically quietly fussy) for the last two hours. He is not being troublesome in any way. I am starting to get really irritated with him and anxious that he will do something - anything and that I won't like it. I feel like my skin is on fire and I'm about to burst out of it. I feel agitated and angry for no reason.
Around 1:30am, Xander is now sound asleep and not making a peep (I have been dreaming of this for a week or two, btw). I am now inches from enraged. I'm sitting there thinking angrily at Xander, "You'd better not make any noise, you'd better not make any noise." At the same time I'm having that constant fight or flight blind panic of anxiety attacks. It doesn't help that I'm itchy from my psoriasis (all over), I'm overheated, I have a headache and a crick in my neck. Discomfort seems to exacerbate all bad feelings.
Around 2am I get desperate and take a third antidepressant (I am supposed to take two a day but my doctor has told me that I am on a rather low dose right now). I also do what I can to ease my discomforts so that everything else doesn't feel so bad. I start trying to think of things that will improve my mood.
2:30am - Two things occur to me. Firstly I appear to be most afraid of him fussing and me getting up and tending to him - no idea why - this should not be something to fear. I decide that since he'll be hungry soon, I'll wake him up and feed him before he has a chance to wake up screaming for food. I feed him and then put him in a position I know he likes, the makeshift Moby wrap that my mother-in-law made me in newborn hug hold. The second thing that occurs to me is that I should try smelling him. No joke, smelling him. I know that I find inhaling his scent incredibly calming (I assume because of pheromones) and so give it a shot to see if it calms me down and makes me feel less depressed or angry. It works to a point, calming me enough for me to think clearly.
3am - I finally curl up with him in the reclining glider rocker and manage to get an hour or so of sleep while he sleeps against my chest. It is far better than nothing. The rest of the night until around 8am is spent in this fashion rather successfully.
We knew that postnatal depression was a near certainty...and I am getting help. My psychologist is informed and when I see my obstetrician next Wednesday, my antidepressants will be changed.
People offer me help - offer to take a shift, to take the kid off my hands for a while and it's all very well and good - the problem is that I go from zero to fucking furious sometimes in ten seconds. There's very seldom warning and even when there is, there's certainly not enough to get someone to my house to help.
Right now it's not a problem because my mother-in-law is here and if anything gets too insane, I can just pass him off to her. Simon hasn't gone back to work yet (because of this depression) and I can also pass Xander off to him.
...what do I do when Simon is back at work on Tuesday? What do I do when my mother-in-law goes back home on the 4th?
It really scares me.
He is holding his head up even more than when he was born, hasn't lost that mop of hair, he's more interested in looking at things around him and responds even more to me. He's alert and curious and starting to squeal and coo, it's adorable.
On a completely different note...
I'm very worried. Since he was born I'd had increased anxiety, that was never a question. ..however, in the last two weeks, that anxiety has turned into some serious, SERIOUS depression. With very little warning, I will quite suddenly become deeply depressed. I will hate myself, I will hate Xander and I will close myself off from everyone. While this CAN frequently happen if I've missed a dose of my antidepressant, much of the time it doesn't matter in the least.
Here is a GOOD night...
Last night I had taken both of my antidepressants. I was golden - I was sure that I wouldn't have any problems with depression or anger. I'd be fine. Simon was off at his sleep study and my mother-in-law was in bed. It was about 10pm and I was feeling good.
Around midnight, Xander has been asleep (but periodically quietly fussy) for the last two hours. He is not being troublesome in any way. I am starting to get really irritated with him and anxious that he will do something - anything and that I won't like it. I feel like my skin is on fire and I'm about to burst out of it. I feel agitated and angry for no reason.
Around 1:30am, Xander is now sound asleep and not making a peep (I have been dreaming of this for a week or two, btw). I am now inches from enraged. I'm sitting there thinking angrily at Xander, "You'd better not make any noise, you'd better not make any noise." At the same time I'm having that constant fight or flight blind panic of anxiety attacks. It doesn't help that I'm itchy from my psoriasis (all over), I'm overheated, I have a headache and a crick in my neck. Discomfort seems to exacerbate all bad feelings.
Around 2am I get desperate and take a third antidepressant (I am supposed to take two a day but my doctor has told me that I am on a rather low dose right now). I also do what I can to ease my discomforts so that everything else doesn't feel so bad. I start trying to think of things that will improve my mood.
2:30am - Two things occur to me. Firstly I appear to be most afraid of him fussing and me getting up and tending to him - no idea why - this should not be something to fear. I decide that since he'll be hungry soon, I'll wake him up and feed him before he has a chance to wake up screaming for food. I feed him and then put him in a position I know he likes, the makeshift Moby wrap that my mother-in-law made me in newborn hug hold. The second thing that occurs to me is that I should try smelling him. No joke, smelling him. I know that I find inhaling his scent incredibly calming (I assume because of pheromones) and so give it a shot to see if it calms me down and makes me feel less depressed or angry. It works to a point, calming me enough for me to think clearly.
3am - I finally curl up with him in the reclining glider rocker and manage to get an hour or so of sleep while he sleeps against my chest. It is far better than nothing. The rest of the night until around 8am is spent in this fashion rather successfully.
We knew that postnatal depression was a near certainty...and I am getting help. My psychologist is informed and when I see my obstetrician next Wednesday, my antidepressants will be changed.
People offer me help - offer to take a shift, to take the kid off my hands for a while and it's all very well and good - the problem is that I go from zero to fucking furious sometimes in ten seconds. There's very seldom warning and even when there is, there's certainly not enough to get someone to my house to help.
Right now it's not a problem because my mother-in-law is here and if anything gets too insane, I can just pass him off to her. Simon hasn't gone back to work yet (because of this depression) and I can also pass Xander off to him.
...what do I do when Simon is back at work on Tuesday? What do I do when my mother-in-law goes back home on the 4th?
It really scares me.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Things I've Learned
1. Put your infant down for the night before you're tired. Putting them down for the night may take several hours. If you start this process when you're exhausted, you'll only get frustrated and angry. If the kid DOES fall asleep straight away and you're not tired? Sleep anyway. Don't know how to go to sleep when you're not tired? Learn.
2. If your kid is spitting up every 5 minutes, do not change his clothes until he is done unless you really love laundry.
3. It doesn't matter how expensive your couch is, when it gets baby vomit on it, you will simply wipe it with a cloth and worry about it later.
4. Folding babies in half makes them fart.
5. There really is no medication that is going to fix your baby's gas but in desperation you will try them all anyway.
6. Cuddling your baby while they sleep is very pleasant but may very well lead to them refusing to sleep unless held which is extremely annoying.
7. Even after you decide to stop cuddling your baby to sleep, you'll continue to do it because YOU enjoy it.
8. Sleep deprivation can drastically affect breastmilk production.
2. If your kid is spitting up every 5 minutes, do not change his clothes until he is done unless you really love laundry.
3. It doesn't matter how expensive your couch is, when it gets baby vomit on it, you will simply wipe it with a cloth and worry about it later.
4. Folding babies in half makes them fart.
5. There really is no medication that is going to fix your baby's gas but in desperation you will try them all anyway.
6. Cuddling your baby while they sleep is very pleasant but may very well lead to them refusing to sleep unless held which is extremely annoying.
7. Even after you decide to stop cuddling your baby to sleep, you'll continue to do it because YOU enjoy it.
8. Sleep deprivation can drastically affect breastmilk production.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Up All Night
I'm tired. I'm so bloody tired, I'm just going to repost something from MSN rather than explain again how I feel about it. I just can't process that much thought right now.
(12:19:12 AM) Sandra:
I'm knackered and trying to figure out how I'm going to stay up all night with Xander. :/
(12:19:20 AM) Faerie grrl:
Simon gone back to work yet?
(12:19:32 AM) Sandra:
He goes back to work Thursday.
(12:19:41 AM) Faerie grrl:
So pass him off tonight & get some sleep....
(12:19:57 AM) Faerie grrl:
Tell Simon to stay up - to take watch... so you can properly rest...
00:20
(12:22:01 AM) Sandra:
He won't. He says he needs to get his sleep patterns properly on track in preparation for work on Thursday...which is true...
(12:22:58 AM) Sandra:
Which really scares me - because I can't do this EVERY night. The only reason I can do it now is because in the morning - at 8am or 10am, Simon takes over and I get to sleep. When he goes back to work, I'm going to be up all night and then there will be no one to take the next shift. Just THINKING about that makes me feel like crying.
Xander's colic is definitely improving. He sleeps long periods of time and doesn't fuss. ...however, this is during the day. At night ....between about 1am and 7am... for whatever reason...he becomes gassy and fussy and won't sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time. That is my time up with him. The last 2 nights I've stayed up with him when he's fussy and have found myself fairly exhausted in the morning. I'm sure we'll find a way to deal with it, and I'll figure out something - but right now I just feel like everything is hopeless. Right now I'm scared for my sanity, for my mood, for Xander and for my own wellbeing. I'm being run so ragged, I'm starting to hurt all over - I'm hating everyone - I'm having a hard time finding the energy to eat properly and to take care of myself and I'm becoming depressed even with my medications. I can't keep this up for much longer.
(12:19:12 AM) Sandra:
I'm knackered and trying to figure out how I'm going to stay up all night with Xander. :/
(12:19:20 AM) Faerie grrl:
Simon gone back to work yet?
(12:19:32 AM) Sandra:
He goes back to work Thursday.
(12:19:41 AM) Faerie grrl:
So pass him off tonight & get some sleep....
(12:19:57 AM) Faerie grrl:
Tell Simon to stay up - to take watch... so you can properly rest...
00:20
(12:22:01 AM) Sandra:
He won't. He says he needs to get his sleep patterns properly on track in preparation for work on Thursday...which is true...
(12:22:58 AM) Sandra:
Which really scares me - because I can't do this EVERY night. The only reason I can do it now is because in the morning - at 8am or 10am, Simon takes over and I get to sleep. When he goes back to work, I'm going to be up all night and then there will be no one to take the next shift. Just THINKING about that makes me feel like crying.
Xander's colic is definitely improving. He sleeps long periods of time and doesn't fuss. ...however, this is during the day. At night ....between about 1am and 7am... for whatever reason...he becomes gassy and fussy and won't sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time. That is my time up with him. The last 2 nights I've stayed up with him when he's fussy and have found myself fairly exhausted in the morning. I'm sure we'll find a way to deal with it, and I'll figure out something - but right now I just feel like everything is hopeless. Right now I'm scared for my sanity, for my mood, for Xander and for my own wellbeing. I'm being run so ragged, I'm starting to hurt all over - I'm hating everyone - I'm having a hard time finding the energy to eat properly and to take care of myself and I'm becoming depressed even with my medications. I can't keep this up for much longer.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Sunday September 19th, 2010 - 7:29am
Barf happens. So does poo, urine and drool. Before I had Xander, if a cat would rub a wet nose on me I'd be all shuddering and scrubbing my skin with steel wool. Ew. Gross. Catnose. Nevermind a baby getting drool on me...I mean, I'd just lose it if that happened. ...and the few times a baby ever spit up on me, I had to hold them out toward their parents while I dry heaved and tried desperately to make it to a bathroom before vomiting. ...so believe me...I get it.
So I had the kid.
Cats still rub their noses on me, I still freak out.
Babies still spit up, I still think it's gross.
....unless it's mine.
Okay well...it's not like it's pleasant now or anything...but Xander could drool all over me and I wouldn't think it was remotely icky, he could hose me down during a change (and has) and generally all I do is laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation and clean us both up, poo is...okay well poo is always icky, but for some reason you care less. For some reason your own child's bodily fluids, while fundamentally identical to any other child's, don't gross you out nearly as much.
Weird evolutionary tool or just the breaking of the parent's spirit? :P
So I had the kid.
Cats still rub their noses on me, I still freak out.
Babies still spit up, I still think it's gross.
....unless it's mine.
Okay well...it's not like it's pleasant now or anything...but Xander could drool all over me and I wouldn't think it was remotely icky, he could hose me down during a change (and has) and generally all I do is laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation and clean us both up, poo is...okay well poo is always icky, but for some reason you care less. For some reason your own child's bodily fluids, while fundamentally identical to any other child's, don't gross you out nearly as much.
Weird evolutionary tool or just the breaking of the parent's spirit? :P
Monday, September 13, 2010
Tuesday September 14th, 2010 - 3:59pm
Feeling rather like an awful mother.
I don't know if it's the caesarean or not, but I seem to need (actually NEED) at least ten hours of sleep a day. I was never very quick with waking up but for some reason, since Xander's birth, I am an even heavier sleeper. He'll be screaming his head off for ten or fifteen minutes before I'll wake up - or Simon will have to yell to wake me up, at which point I open my eyes and immediately close them and fall asleep again.
Occasionally I'll wake up to Xander screaming and Simon trying to console him and will notice that Simon is getting rather frustrated. I'll try to stay awake and will struggle to keep my eyes open, failing miserably.
When I'm awake, I wonder what kind of mother would do this.
I worry constantly about when Simon goes back to work. How the Hell will he get good sleep if he's being kept up all night by a screaming baby and I can't stay conscious to help out? Why can't I wake up or stay awake?
On another note, I've been fainting regularly for the last week or so. Even when I don't go down completely I'll lose my balance and black out a moment and stumble into a wall. Fully intending to go and see a doctor - but can't get an appointment until Friday, blargh.
Feeling depressed, need lunch.
Oh...one really nifty thing? It's been 20 days since giving birth and I have lost 19 kilos (That's 42 pounds for those of you who use Imperial). I actually only gained 12 kilos (26lbs) during my pregnancy so this is a pleasant surprise. I'mnot really exercising at all (okay so I don't consider things like mowing the lawn, chopping kindling, cleaning the house, gardening, grocery shopping, moving furniture and boxes and such to be exercise but apparently some people do) but have been eating rather well. I doubt this will continue much longer so I may as well enjoy it while it lasts...
I don't know if it's the caesarean or not, but I seem to need (actually NEED) at least ten hours of sleep a day. I was never very quick with waking up but for some reason, since Xander's birth, I am an even heavier sleeper. He'll be screaming his head off for ten or fifteen minutes before I'll wake up - or Simon will have to yell to wake me up, at which point I open my eyes and immediately close them and fall asleep again.
Occasionally I'll wake up to Xander screaming and Simon trying to console him and will notice that Simon is getting rather frustrated. I'll try to stay awake and will struggle to keep my eyes open, failing miserably.
When I'm awake, I wonder what kind of mother would do this.
I worry constantly about when Simon goes back to work. How the Hell will he get good sleep if he's being kept up all night by a screaming baby and I can't stay conscious to help out? Why can't I wake up or stay awake?
On another note, I've been fainting regularly for the last week or so. Even when I don't go down completely I'll lose my balance and black out a moment and stumble into a wall. Fully intending to go and see a doctor - but can't get an appointment until Friday, blargh.
Feeling depressed, need lunch.
Oh...one really nifty thing? It's been 20 days since giving birth and I have lost 19 kilos (That's 42 pounds for those of you who use Imperial). I actually only gained 12 kilos (26lbs) during my pregnancy so this is a pleasant surprise. I'm
Friday, September 10, 2010
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Post-labour note on nitrous oxide during birth.
They will tell you to only inhale as you feel a contraction coming on and to stop once the contraction's peak passes.
You MAY be one of the people who gets crazy nauseous if you suck on it too hard. If you're not....consider doing it anyway. >.> They'll tell you not to....but I say...if you're going to be high once in your life, what better time than when you're in labour?
I was still feeling contractions and pain but I totally didn't care. Whenever the nurse left the room, I'd stop being a good girl and start breathing the nitrous as if it were air. It was awesome. Everything was floaty and funny and I didn't care about much of anything.
Nitrous oxide was amazing.
Morphine paled by comparison.
...of course...nothing beat the epidural.
You MAY be one of the people who gets crazy nauseous if you suck on it too hard. If you're not....consider doing it anyway. >.> They'll tell you not to....but I say...if you're going to be high once in your life, what better time than when you're in labour?
I was still feeling contractions and pain but I totally didn't care. Whenever the nurse left the room, I'd stop being a good girl and start breathing the nitrous as if it were air. It was awesome. Everything was floaty and funny and I didn't care about much of anything.
Nitrous oxide was amazing.
Morphine paled by comparison.
...of course...nothing beat the epidural.
Tuesday September 7th, 2010 - 11:48pm
My poor baby has terrible, awful tummy pains. Something is causing gas or something and he stays awake for long periods in obvious discomfort, arching his back and crying. We finally got some simethicone for him which should provide some relief. Hearing him cry for hours is as annoying and frustrating as you might think, but it's also heartbreaking when I know that he's doing it because he's in pain. The worst part is that it seems to flare up at night, leaving Simon and I unable to sleep well.
Last night we finally passed out around 3am. We're actually not sure when he fell asleep because we didn't mean to fall asleep. We were desperately trying to stay awake to get him settled. We failed. We apparently fell asleep while he was fussing. He must have settled fairly soon afterward as well, because he didn't fuss loud enough to wake us up, not until he woke around 8am asking for food. Needless to say, aside from the times we were awake to feed him, we slept in quite late today. I got up around 11am, Simon got up at 2pm.
So how is parenting? Probably understandably hard to explain. It's not as hard as I thought it would be...and yet in many ways so much harder than I thought. The actual caring for him is mind numbingly easy. Feed, burp, change, repeat, repeat, repeat, bathe, repeat steps 1-3. I'm aware that it gets more complicated, but for right now....so very simple. The harder parts are the hours - I won't say sleep deprivation because so far, there's been fairly little real sleep deprivation. Delayed sleep, yes...odd hours, absolutely...but we've very rarely been absolutely DEPRIVED of sleep. The odd hours have been fairly hard to get used to. Getting used to waking up in the middle of the night and napping in the middle of the day has been, when you think about the timeline, fairly easy. I mean, I've been home only a week and I pretty quickly went from being a zombie at night to actually being somewhat awake. I also went from not being able to fall asleep in the daytime to being able to fall asleep pretty much whenever I want.
It's also scary, by the way. I spent the first 2-3 nights exhausted more because of horrible nightmares than because of the baby crying. I had any number of nightmares in which Xander was killed in some sort of accident. The only one I can remember clearly involved Simon holding up a mangled and bloody Xander to show me and saying (with some horror), "I fell. I think I hurt the baby." (I still shudder when I think about this dream.) That's the kind of shit I dream about. It's ALL I dream about. It is not fun, but I know it will stop.
I'm totally used to getting bodily fluids on me now. You'd think the poo bothers me most but it totally doesn't. Baby vomit is SHOCKINGLY horrid. It looks gross, smells putrid and while I can see blood and guts, I can't see vomit without my own stomach turning.
The entire thing is a constant learning experience. We're getting better at working out his signals and figuring out what he needs and wants and we're becoming more confident in our abilities and more relaxed in our approach.
And on that note, I'm going to go and nap.
Last night we finally passed out around 3am. We're actually not sure when he fell asleep because we didn't mean to fall asleep. We were desperately trying to stay awake to get him settled. We failed. We apparently fell asleep while he was fussing. He must have settled fairly soon afterward as well, because he didn't fuss loud enough to wake us up, not until he woke around 8am asking for food. Needless to say, aside from the times we were awake to feed him, we slept in quite late today. I got up around 11am, Simon got up at 2pm.
So how is parenting? Probably understandably hard to explain. It's not as hard as I thought it would be...and yet in many ways so much harder than I thought. The actual caring for him is mind numbingly easy. Feed, burp, change, repeat, repeat, repeat, bathe, repeat steps 1-3. I'm aware that it gets more complicated, but for right now....so very simple. The harder parts are the hours - I won't say sleep deprivation because so far, there's been fairly little real sleep deprivation. Delayed sleep, yes...odd hours, absolutely...but we've very rarely been absolutely DEPRIVED of sleep. The odd hours have been fairly hard to get used to. Getting used to waking up in the middle of the night and napping in the middle of the day has been, when you think about the timeline, fairly easy. I mean, I've been home only a week and I pretty quickly went from being a zombie at night to actually being somewhat awake. I also went from not being able to fall asleep in the daytime to being able to fall asleep pretty much whenever I want.
It's also scary, by the way. I spent the first 2-3 nights exhausted more because of horrible nightmares than because of the baby crying. I had any number of nightmares in which Xander was killed in some sort of accident. The only one I can remember clearly involved Simon holding up a mangled and bloody Xander to show me and saying (with some horror), "I fell. I think I hurt the baby." (I still shudder when I think about this dream.) That's the kind of shit I dream about. It's ALL I dream about. It is not fun, but I know it will stop.
I'm totally used to getting bodily fluids on me now. You'd think the poo bothers me most but it totally doesn't. Baby vomit is SHOCKINGLY horrid. It looks gross, smells putrid and while I can see blood and guts, I can't see vomit without my own stomach turning.
The entire thing is a constant learning experience. We're getting better at working out his signals and figuring out what he needs and wants and we're becoming more confident in our abilities and more relaxed in our approach.
And on that note, I'm going to go and nap.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Sunday Sepbember 5th, 2010 - Father's Day - 4:45pm
Okay so...part of this being real is posting about things that might not necessarily be comfortable - either for people reading them - or for me. I've been avoiding posting anything in this blog for several days because I've either been too afraid, too ashamed, too embarrassed or too depressed to talk about what's been happening with all of us - so I've been quiet.
The first two days were, in many ways, the hardest. We could never get him to sleep and couldn't figure out why. He never wanted to settle and we hadn't developed the tools necessary to discover his needs. Over time, we're slowly starting to learn what he wants when he cries. We're learning which signals mean he's hungry and which are simply an uncomfortable, gassy baby fussing about.
The biggest challenges we've faced are related to my moods and to feeding. Feeding has been difficult at best and next to impossible at worst - at least breastfeeding.
With Xander's birth, I did great. I told myself that I was okay with any turn of events and that I had no set plan. I was determined not to make myself feel like a failure no matter what. No rigid plans meant no disappointment when things didn't go my way.
I thought that I was the same way about breastfeeding. I told myself that I would try it but that if I couldn't manage to breastfeed effectively, I would make the switch to expressing or formula and not feel bad about my choice. Keeping in that mindset about labour was easy. With breastfeeding it has been next to impossible.
I'm not sure if it's because labour was a mere 36 hours or so (most of which I was drugged to the gills) and breastfeeding spans over days and weeks. I'm not sure if it's because I really, honestly didn't believe that I would have any problems breastfeeding. I am sure that part of it...is that I feel constantly watched and judged over it.
It has nothing at all to do with supply - that I've got. It's all about ignorance. I can't get the kid to attach and when I can, I can't get him to stay attached. I can't get him into a comfortable position either for myself or for him and when I can, I can't get him to stay awake long enough to get a decent feed. More feeds have ended in me curling up and sobbing hysterically than with me feeling satisfied with the situation. So I made the confident decision to top him up with formula (or to provide full formula/expressed breastmilk feeds when I've been completely unable to feed him directly). I felt good about that decision. ...then the first midwife looked at me disdainfully, asked me what I wanted to do - said in that tone that if all I was going to do was feed him with formula, they wouldn't bother teaching me how to breastfeed. I felt crushed, I felt judged and I felt attacked.
I persevered with breastfeeding and ran into the same brick wall again and again. My mood just deteriorated further and I again made the confident decision to top him up with formula - telling myself that I would be a better parent if I weren't under so much stress. Another midwife looked down on me and again I was backed into a corner.
This has happened again and again over the last 11 days. In just 11 days I've gone through this cycle at least 5 times with different people, all looking down their nose at me and making me feel as though my decision to supplement with formula made me a failure or made me a bad mother. The result is that I've become harried, depressed and I've started to actually shy away from my baby himself. I feel completely inadequate most of the time. Ill equipped to be anyone's mother.
At the advice of Trish, I've decided to see a lactation consultant (if I can ever get her to call me back) and have been leaving my therapist a scary number of voicemails attempting to make an appointment with her as soon as possible.
Today Simon went to the grocery store, leaving me alone with the baby. I was scared shitless to be alone with my own baby. What if he cried and I couldn't figure out what was wrong? What if he cried for hours? What if I again "failed" to feed him? What if I ended up curled up while he screamed, cryig myself and unable to handle it?
Why do I feel as though this is a strange fear?
I've read a lot of books during my pregnancy, many of which end up totally useless, by ther way, when you are sleep deprived and your baby is screaming. It doesn't matter how many books told you that swaddling is comforting for the majority of unsettled babies, when you're sleep deprived, you can't remember a damned thing - you're just on the verge of tearing your hair out and screaming at the little bastard to shut up.
That's right, little bastard - another normal feeling - anger at your baby. It'll make you hate yourself, but even the most level headed parents will get furious with their own baby simply for being indecipherable in its demands. Baby screams, parents are lost as to the cause and the sheer annoyance of the screams combined with frustration at your own helplessness will make you angry at, and maybe even make you momentarily hate your baby.
And you will feel like a monster afterward. Move on. Just don't dwell on it. Try to do better next time.
Fussy baby...more later.
The first two days were, in many ways, the hardest. We could never get him to sleep and couldn't figure out why. He never wanted to settle and we hadn't developed the tools necessary to discover his needs. Over time, we're slowly starting to learn what he wants when he cries. We're learning which signals mean he's hungry and which are simply an uncomfortable, gassy baby fussing about.
The biggest challenges we've faced are related to my moods and to feeding. Feeding has been difficult at best and next to impossible at worst - at least breastfeeding.
With Xander's birth, I did great. I told myself that I was okay with any turn of events and that I had no set plan. I was determined not to make myself feel like a failure no matter what. No rigid plans meant no disappointment when things didn't go my way.
I thought that I was the same way about breastfeeding. I told myself that I would try it but that if I couldn't manage to breastfeed effectively, I would make the switch to expressing or formula and not feel bad about my choice. Keeping in that mindset about labour was easy. With breastfeeding it has been next to impossible.
I'm not sure if it's because labour was a mere 36 hours or so (most of which I was drugged to the gills) and breastfeeding spans over days and weeks. I'm not sure if it's because I really, honestly didn't believe that I would have any problems breastfeeding. I am sure that part of it...is that I feel constantly watched and judged over it.
It has nothing at all to do with supply - that I've got. It's all about ignorance. I can't get the kid to attach and when I can, I can't get him to stay attached. I can't get him into a comfortable position either for myself or for him and when I can, I can't get him to stay awake long enough to get a decent feed. More feeds have ended in me curling up and sobbing hysterically than with me feeling satisfied with the situation. So I made the confident decision to top him up with formula (or to provide full formula/expressed breastmilk feeds when I've been completely unable to feed him directly). I felt good about that decision. ...then the first midwife looked at me disdainfully, asked me what I wanted to do - said in that tone that if all I was going to do was feed him with formula, they wouldn't bother teaching me how to breastfeed. I felt crushed, I felt judged and I felt attacked.
I persevered with breastfeeding and ran into the same brick wall again and again. My mood just deteriorated further and I again made the confident decision to top him up with formula - telling myself that I would be a better parent if I weren't under so much stress. Another midwife looked down on me and again I was backed into a corner.
This has happened again and again over the last 11 days. In just 11 days I've gone through this cycle at least 5 times with different people, all looking down their nose at me and making me feel as though my decision to supplement with formula made me a failure or made me a bad mother. The result is that I've become harried, depressed and I've started to actually shy away from my baby himself. I feel completely inadequate most of the time. Ill equipped to be anyone's mother.
At the advice of Trish, I've decided to see a lactation consultant (if I can ever get her to call me back) and have been leaving my therapist a scary number of voicemails attempting to make an appointment with her as soon as possible.
Today Simon went to the grocery store, leaving me alone with the baby. I was scared shitless to be alone with my own baby. What if he cried and I couldn't figure out what was wrong? What if he cried for hours? What if I again "failed" to feed him? What if I ended up curled up while he screamed, cryig myself and unable to handle it?
Why do I feel as though this is a strange fear?
I've read a lot of books during my pregnancy, many of which end up totally useless, by ther way, when you are sleep deprived and your baby is screaming. It doesn't matter how many books told you that swaddling is comforting for the majority of unsettled babies, when you're sleep deprived, you can't remember a damned thing - you're just on the verge of tearing your hair out and screaming at the little bastard to shut up.
That's right, little bastard - another normal feeling - anger at your baby. It'll make you hate yourself, but even the most level headed parents will get furious with their own baby simply for being indecipherable in its demands. Baby screams, parents are lost as to the cause and the sheer annoyance of the screams combined with frustration at your own helplessness will make you angry at, and maybe even make you momentarily hate your baby.
And you will feel like a monster afterward. Move on. Just don't dwell on it. Try to do better next time.
Fussy baby...more later.
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