 | Diary Navigation:
|
March 31, 2004
Andrew Jack's Birth Story
My last week of work was really low-key and consisted of a lot of passing off of things to people, cleaning out files, and just wasting time on the internet. My poor coworkers had to sit and listen to me on the phone making plans for the following week, like booking myself into the spa, calling about the car seat clinic, etc. etc. I told them not to envy me, since I was hardly going on a one-year vacation after all! I got taken out for lunch that day, and then there was a gathering at a coworker’s house that evening, so it was a long, leisurely goodbye. I got home fairly late Friday night, and didn’t sleep all that well. It didn’t yet seem real that I wasn’t going back to work that following Monday.
My mom came to stay for the weekend again, since she was still in Burlington (about an hour away) for work for another week. We got up bright and early on Saturday morning and went to a giant lighting store (my mom was looking for new kitchen lighting). She kept insisting we hurry so I didn’t have to be on my feet for too long, but I told her I was totally fine, which I was. After that we went to Walmart to look for nursing bras. I tried a few on and ended up buying two in the same style by Playtex. We also found some nice-looking apartment pants (or yoga pants, whatever) with a matching hoodie in pale blue that my mom insisted on buying me – she said it would be just the thing to wear in the first week or two postpartum. On our way back to my house we found ourselves near my brother’s neighbourhood, so we popped in for a quick hello. By the time we got back to my place, it was late in the afternoon. Chris had spent the day making trips to Canadian Tire for things like a fish net and a hose/faucet adaptor and still hadn’t had any luck connecting the hose to the faucet properly. We figured that if we couldn’t come up with something in the next week, duct tape would be a sufficient solution. He’d also blown up the pool, and it was the perfect size for the spot we’d picked for it (not that we really had any choice in its location). We took a couple of pictures of me sitting in it (without water), just for fun. We decided to go out for a nice dinner. So off we went (my mom, Chris and I) to a nice local Italian restaurant in my neighbourhood. We had a great meal and I was so full afterwards. After a busy day and a big meal, I slept better that night than I had in weeks – I even slept in a bit Sunday morning..
Later that morning, after my mom left to head back to Burlington, Chris and I cleaned the house quite a bit. I went nuts in the bedroom dusting and vacuuming under dressers and getting rid of piles of books and magazines that had been beside the bed for months. I got rid of a lot of clutter and it felt good. We also made sure we had large pieces of plastic cut to the right sizes for under the pool, and two pieces for the bed. We rolled them up and stood them in a corner of the hallway. Chris played with the hose for a bit longer. The weather was beautiful that day, so we walked down to Queen Street (the main drag in my neighbourhood) and did some errands and light shopping. The walk back up the hill to our house was slow and I was feeling pretty big and breathless. We ran into our next-door neighbours on our way back and stood outside talking to them for a long while. They have a one-year-old boy and are very excited that we’re having a baby too. I told them how I was done work and that I had a spa appointment the next day and was looking forward to my week off before my due date.
When we finally got home, we decided to paint the old dresser that was going to be the baby’s. Chris brought up some paint and put the dresser onto some plastic sheeting (wow, we sure got a lot of mileage out of that one roll of vapour barrier leftover from our basement reno!). I sat on the floor and just painted for over an hour. Soon it was time for Chris to start thinking about getting ready to go to his weekly Sunday night hockey game. I had big plans to call my friend in Halifax and watch the Oscars, and just stay up late and enjoy the fact that I didn’t have to go to work the following day. I was looking forward to my spa appointment, which was booked for 10 a.m. the next morning. We were lolling around on our bed, and Chris made a quick phone call to his parents at that point for some reason. I was lying next to him on my right side, and rolled over onto my left when suddenly I felt a POP inside, right about where I guess my cervix is. I felt a small gush of fluid and told Chris to get off the phone immediately. He asked why and all I could say (I didn’t want to cause a commotion with his parents on the phone) was that something just happened. After a quick goodbye, he hung up and he asked what was wrong. I told him I was pretty sure my water just broke, and to get me something to put between my legs so that I could get up off the bed and make it to the toilet without ruining anything! You should have seen the look on his face – I’m sure I had the same look! By the time I got to the bathroom, my jeans were soaked through. There was no doubt about it – my water had broken, all of a sudden with no warning whatsoever. We were both in shock. The fluid was clear and had no smell, which was a good sign. About two minutes later, I suddenly had diarrhea and I knew this was probably the real thing. Chris made some calls to let his hockey team know he wouldn’t be making it to his game that night. We looked at each other in a panic and tried to figure out what we needed if all of a sudden this baby decided to make an appearance. We didn’t have any diapers, since the service was going to be dropping off the first delivery on the following Thursday. So Chris ran out to the drugstore and got diapers, duct tape and Gatorade. I had started to feel a bit crampy by the time he got back. I consulted my “what to do when you think you might by in labour” chart from the midwives. It said to wait until morning to page or call the clinic if your water broke. However, since it was only about 8 p.m. on a Sunday evening at that point, I figured it would be a good idea to let them know what was happening. They had told me that it’s nice to get a heads-up in order to arrange for child care etc. if they think a birth is happening in the next 24 hours. I talked to Claudette, one of the student midwives, and she advised me to take two Gravol and try and sleep for the night. She told me to page them again if contractions became four minutes apart and lasting a minute or more, or if anything was worrisome at all. She told me that for some fluke reason, both my primary and secondary midwives were off call for the night, so if I really was in heavy labour, it might be one of the other midwives from the clinic that would show up. I was mildly annoyed by this, but figured that by the time things got rolling, one of my midwives would be back on call. She told me that they’d call me at 8 a.m. the next morning if they hadn’t heard from me by then. I got off the phone and Chris and I figured it would be a good idea to get the bed ready. We stripped off our good clean sheets and laid down a layer of plastic, a set of old sheets, another layer of plastic, then another set of old sheets. The bed was loud and crinkly sounding, and slippery. It was obvious that sleeping was going to be tough that night, for a number of reasons. Chris called his boss and left a message that he wouldn’t be in the next day, and likely not for the rest of the week. He also called the spa and let them know I wouldn’t be making my appointment the next morning, and also the energy company he’d booked to come for 1 the next afternoon to look at our hot-water heater. We called our parents to let them know what was happening. We still couldn’t believe that I was in labour; it was all very surreal. I was excited, but couldn’t shake that “this-shouldn’t-be-happening-yet!” disbelief.
The crampiness continued in waves, and it became apparent that they were light contractions. I could feel them a bit in my back as well. It was really just uncomfortable at that point, and I knew there was hard work ahead. I had Chris put on my Tree of Life pendant that the girls in Chicago had included in my little shower gift bag, and it bolstered my spirits to think of these women and their strength. I laid on the bed and instructed Chris while he scurried around getting the room ready. He cleared two dresser tops and moved some things out of the way. Soon enough it was time to go to bed, and I popped two Gravol, as instructed. We tried timing some contractions, but they weren’t that close together and the beginning and end of each one wasn’t that clear to me. I changed into a light t-shirt and kept a towel between my legs to catch any water or mucous. Eventually we turned out the lights and Chris fell fast asleep. I guess I dozed between the contractions. The night wore on and things continued this way for hours. Every so often I’d get up to pee, and the plastic on the bed was making me sweat. I was sleepy and I know I had the odd stretch of light sleep, but I was awoken quite often with a contraction. I tried to time them every so often, and they varied from nine minutes to about six minutes apart. Some were stronger and longer than others, but they were too erratic to time and there was no clear pattern. The beginning and end of each one had become a bit more obvious. But I tried my hardest to sleep between them, in hopes of resting up for what I was sure was going to be a long, hard day. I remember looking at the clock and noting that it was past midnight, so baby could safely come and he wouldn’t be a Leap Day baby! Every now and then I’d feel him move slightly, which was reassuring. Every time I’d go to the bathroom, there would be a bit more water and mucous. The mucous was clear or pink, and getting pinker as time wore on. By early the next morning, there would be streaks of blood.
The night passed in a blur and I finally woke Chris up Monday morning at about 7 a.m. I was having fairly strong contractions (I thought so, anyway) and was concentrating on breathing through them, making little grunting noises with each breath. He had slept pretty soundly through the night – I was amazed all my up-and-down activity and heavy breathing hadn’t bothered him. Chris got up and showered, and we tried to time some contractions again. They were still really irregular, varying from four to seven minutes apart, but lasting quite a while – about a minute or more. He suggested I take a shower, and as appealing as that sounded after a long night of sweating and leaking fluids, I just couldn’t bear the thought of standing for that long. I laid on the bed, letting each contraction pass with breathing and quiet grunting. It was almost 8 o’clock in the morning, and I knew the midwives were going to call at that time, so I didn’t call them. When Claudette (the student midwife) called, I was still having rather irregular, but long, contractions. She said the because my contractions were lasting longer than a minute but were still irregular and not really close, it sounded like I might have “irritable uterus.” I didn’t ask what that meant, but felt somewhat dismayed that it might be bad, and might mean that things were going to last a long time and get really painful. She said that she had a home visit to make and they’d likely be there in about an hour and a half, but to page if anything happened or if contractions got really close together. I reminded her that my backup midwife, Tracy, lived only two blocks away from me if things got intense all of a sudden. But I could tell that she thought I had a ways to go yet – I was able to talk on the phone with her fairly easily, and she seemed to figure she had time to spare.
I got off the phone and advised Chris that he’d better start filling the pool, since it was obvious that today was the day. I envied the fact that he was well rested and showered. I changed my shirt since I’d sweated a lot overnight. I put on a plain black tank top, which I thought would be good for in the pool – it wouldn’t be see-through when wet! I didn’t feel like eating, but knew I should have something. I asked Chris to bring me some strawberries, but when he brought them to me I could only eat a couple of them. I just continued to sip my water. He farted around with the hose in the bathroom and started filling the pool while I continued breathing and grunting through contractions, laying on my side on the bed.
After a few more contractions like this, all of a sudden things changed. Out of nowhere, my body started bearing down with each contraction. I wasn’t doing it myself, my body was doing it for me, and I couldn’t stop it. I made loud moaning, pushing noises, totally involuntarily. With the first big push like that, I peed into the towel I had between my legs. It came out of nowhere, and I hollered for Chris, who came running into the bedroom. I told him to page the midwives ASAP, because my body was pushing and I couldn’t control it. He looked panicked, and called them and told them what was happening while I made my way to the toilet and finished peeing. While sitting there, I had another contraction and again couldn’t stop my body from bearing down and grunting loudly. I could hear Chris on the phone, telling the midwives I was pushing.
About four minutes after he paged, Tracy, my backup midwife, burst through the front door at about 9:15 a.m.. I was never so happy to see someone in my entire life. She scrambled around and brought all her stuff in, then washed her hands and donned her gloves to check my progress. I barely noticed the exam, but I braced myself to hear what every labouring woman dreads – that I was not nearly as far along as I thought or hoped. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was hoping for a good 7 or 8 centimetres, but worried she was going to say I was only about 3 or 4. However, the pushing sensations gave me hope. I was totally shocked when she announced that I was at 10 centimetres and +2 station. Chris abandoned the pool and came to my side for good. Tracy made a quick call and I could hear the surprise in her voice as she reported my progress. About two minutes later, Claudette and another student, Shannon, arrived. They were amazingly supportive, and surprised and impressed that I’d made it so far on my own. They asked if I’d had anything to drink aside from water, anything with any calories in it. We said no, and they sent Chris to get the Gatorade from downstairs, and to put a pot of water on the stove to boil. We told them we had a crock pot, but they said it would take too long to heat up. They had me get up to pee again and try sitting on the toilet for a couple of contractions. They encouraged me to try working with the pushing sensations and to start pushing with them while sitting on the toilet. I did that a few times but it felt really weird. I longed to be lying on my side in bed again, so they helped me back to the bedroom. They asked if I wanted the pool filled more so I could get into it, but at that point I wasn’t the least bit interested in it – it felt like the moment for the pool had passed and I just wanted to work at pushing the baby out. They suggested I try pushing on my hands and knees, so I did that through a few contractions, on the bed supported by pillows under my head. Each time, they’d check the baby’s heart rate with the Doppler, and they were amazed at how well he was doing through each contraction. The hands-and-knees thing wasn’t very uncomfortable, and I felt like I was tiring myself out by holding myself up. They suggested trying a supported squat position. So Chris sat on the edge of the bed while I squatted on the floor with my back between his knees and my arms over his legs. Again, this just seemed too tiring to me. I didn’t feel like my pushes were very effective and I even felt like I was subconsciously holding back for some reason. I remember feeling a lot of pressure, like that bowling ball sensation I’d heard other women describe. It felt like a massive bowel movement was just sitting right there, waiting for me to get up the nerve to push it out. Which is exactly what was happening – except this was a baby! After a few pushes in the squatting position, I said I wanted to lie on my side in bed again. This worked for me, since I really felt like I was getting a bit of a break and a rest between contractions. The baby’s heart rate continued to be steady and recover really well after each contraction.
This is the point where things started to get really real, really fast. I knew I was somehow holding back, and the midwives were instructing me to push harder. They placed their hands on my perineum to give me direction on where to push. They were holding warm washcloths there. They convinced to me reach inside and touch his head, which felt like a soft piece of fruit sitting right inside my vagina. I couldn’t believe that was my baby, and that he was about to be born. They were right – this gave me the incentive I needed, and I had renewed strength and energy and determination to push him out. I asked for a cool facecloth on my forehead, which someone quickly retrieved, and Chris held it there for the rest of the birth. I was working hard, and getting hot. I think someone had turned up the heat in anticipation of the baby’s arrival. The baby’s heart rate dipped quite low (90, I think) during a contraction, and they starting doing scalp stimulation to make sure he was recovering OK. He was, so there was very little concern about his well-being – he seemed to be handling it all very well. I continued pushing like this with little progress for several more contractions, when someone suggested I try pushing on my back with my legs pulled back. Even though I knew this was generally not considered a very effective position, I was willing to try it. I started to feel like I’d been pushing for an awfully long time (it had been over two hours) and I knew the baby was very close. So I got on my back, and with each contraction I pulled my knees way back and pushed with all my might with my chin to my chest. I was even holding my breath during pushes, and I’m sure I was getting very red-faced, the exact thing I assumed I’d try to avoid. However, it seemed to be working for me. At this point the midwives told me that if the head wasn’t out within about two more contractions, they might have to do an episiotomy. Naturally, this gave me major incentive to push with all I had. At the next contraction, one of the midwives announced that she could now see hair, lots of hair, on the baby’s head as it became visible with each push and then receded. Pretty soon I could feel that the head was partially out, even between pushes. I was told that the portion of the baby’s head poking out was about the size and shape of a lemon, and that he had lots of hair. Chris took a look and apparently I told him to stay up by my head - I guess I was worried about him seeing too much. It felt so weird to rest between contractions with something obviously poking out of my body, just sitting there. The next contraction was the one. The baby’s head crowned and I could feel the midwife stretching my skin around it. I let out a piercing scream – not my first - and pushed as hard as I could. I felt his head come out, and had a brief moment of relief before they asked for one more big push to get the rest of him out. I pushed, and out came his shoulders and the rest of his body in one big slither. Seconds later he was placed on my belly. I heard one of the midwives say, “short cord, short cord!” So he didn’t quite make it all the way up to my chest. He started making little squeaky cries and was quite pink. His little legs were pulled right up under him and his lips were swollen and red from the birth. His head looked pretty good – hardly any moulding at all. Someone put a little hat on him and he was covered in warm, clean towels. I could hardly believe that this was my baby, he was here already and he looked so tiny and perfect. Chris and I kept saying “hi baby!” over and over, and the baby was just letting out these sweet little cries. After a few moments, Chris was called in to cut the cord, which he did. I don’t even know what was happening elsewhere at this point, I was just enthralled with the baby. Chris took some pictures. We moved the baby up closer to my face and they piled him with more warm towels and rubbed his back dry. He was nice and pink and there was certainly no concern about him doing well.
A minute or two later, I barely noticed the midwives give me a shot of oxytocin to help deliver the placenta. They massaged my abdomen a bit too. I think about ten minutes after the birth, they asked me to give a little push (I remember saying, “MORE pushing??”) and out it came. We checked it out briefly, but we were much more interested in the baby. Someone asked what his name was. We said Andrew, but we hadn’t totally settled on a middle name yet. I asked Chris what his middle name was going to be, and he said, “whatever you want!” So I named him Jack, after my father. That was fine with Chris - I don’t think he cared at that point! So Andrew Jack it was.
A few minutes later, Andrew was weighed (6 lbs, 15 oz) and dressed in a diaper, onesie and sleeper. His hat was exchanged for a smaller one, since the one he’d had on was too big and kept falling over his eyes. Everyone was exclaiming how perfect and cute and little he was. He had quite a lot of hair, which looked reddish blond at that point and was caked with dried blood. We counted ten fingers and ten toes, made sure he had all his boy parts, and the midwives checked him over. He scored nine and nine on his Apgars, losing a point each time for bluish fingers and toes. His little eyes were open but they were so dark there was no colour – they looked black. He looked like a little old soul peering out at me from those little slits. I was totally in love.
Meanwhile, the midwives checked me out (youch!) and determined that I needed a few stitches. I had one second-degree tear and a couple of superficial tears that required one or two stitches each. They gave me the option of skipping the stitches on the little tears, since they likely just heal right back up without them, but I opted for the full repair job. They gave me a shot of some local anesthetic, which hurt a lot, and started to stitch me up. It probably took about ten minutes and it was rather uncomfortable since I was beaten up and swollen down there. Poor Chris got stuck holding a light for them to see. When they were done stitching me, they suggested we try feeding. Andrew wouldn’t latch right on, but he did lick and suckle a bit, and I was able to squeeze out a bit of colostrum, which was encouraging. I think the main reason why it was hard to feed him at that point was that I couldn’t sit up properly – I was way too sore and needed to stay lying down.
About an hour after Andrew’s birth, there was a knock at the door. It was the next-door neighbour, checking that everything was OK. Apparently she heard all the commotion (screaming!) and just wanted to check in. She was shocked to hear that she had in fact witnessed the birth of our baby. Good thing it hadn’t happened in the middle of the night. About an hour after that, flowers arrived from her - the first of about six arrangements over the next couple of days.
The midwives insisted I try going pee, which was a bit of an ordeal. With a chux pad between my legs to catch all the blood (there is new carpet throughout our upstairs, after all!) I waddled my way to the bathroom with a lot of help. I was weak and tired and a bit dizzy. I peed with the aid of a peri bottle and that made the midwives happy. I made my way back to the bed, which had been stripped of the dirty sheets and the plastic. It was bliss to get into my own clean, fresh bed again. They felt around my abdomen and seemed happy with the way the bleeding was going – nothing alarming. Once it was determined that all was well with both of us, the midwives left us alone to bond as a family. We just sat and started at Andrew, in awe.
The Babymoon
At some point, Chris had called our parents to let them know that Andrew had arrived. Since my mom was less than an hour away, we told her to come by around suppertime (it was just after noon). But once the midwives left, we were excited and giddy and wanted to show off Andrew, so Chris called her back and told her to come anytime. Turns out she was only about 10 minutes away at that point – she had come into town to be nearby in case we called! She arrived soon after that and was immediately smitten with her first grandchild. The rest of the day passed in a blur of blissful relaxation. We just sat around the bedroom and stared at the baby. He mostly slept, and I think I tried to latch him on once or twice, but he wasn’t very successful at that yet. My mom cooked and brought food on trays, and we were all on a natural high. The thought of a nap never occurred to me at all – I was wired! We made lots more phone calls to various people, and everyone was surprised to hear the baby had arrived already. We had lots of compliments on his name, which was nice. I’ve heard too many women say they’d had rude comments about their baby’s name, but I guess Andrew Jack is hard to argue with – it’s pretty “normal.”
Eventually, it was time to go to bed and try to get some sleep. We pulled the little cradle into the room and put it next to the bed, but I took one look at it and said No Way, my baby wasn’t leaving my side! He was way too new and tiny to leave his mama’s warm body. But still, we were nervous about rolling onto him or suffocating him, so we tried to think of a way to sleep with him in our bed safely. We got the brilliant idea of placing the contoured change pad between us and putting him on it. We turned the light out at midnight and half-slept until two, when the baby started fussing. I tried to nurse him and he suckled a bit before falling sound asleep nestled in next to me. We ditched the change pad, since it was obviously not worth the space it was taking up, and besides, Andrew wasn’t touching us or benefitting from our body heat at all when he was on it. We woke up the next morning at around 7:30, surprised that the baby had slept that long and happy to have gotten a long stretch of much-needed sleep. Clearly we had all needed it.
At this point Andrew had had at least one meconium bowel movement, and it was a good thing I was aware of what this stuff was supposed to be like. Because if someone hadn’t told me, I would honestly have thought the kid was dying from the inside out – it was exactly like tar: thick, green-black and sticky. Chris was shocked. We used a bit of canola oil on his bottom from then on to act as a non-stick surface, which made cleaning him up much easier. One of the midwives came over that morning to check on things. She helped me get Andrew latched on properly, and he sucked for a few minutes before falling asleep. She made me promise to try to feed him every hour or so and to keep track of his pees, poops and feeding attempts. We even had a chart to fill out to record feedings, bowel movements and their consistency, and pees. My breasts still didn’t feel any different, and it was obvious that my milk hadn’t come in yet.
I think it was day three that I woke up with firmer, heavier, lumpy, tender breasts. At around the same time, Andrew’s bowel movements picked up in frequency, which was a relief. We were worried for a day or so there, when he hadn’t had a BM for over 12 hours, despite eating fairly well (as far as we could tell). On day three, he’d lost weight and was down from 6 lbs. 15 oz. to 6 lbs. 7 oz. So the boy needed to eat! Unfortunately, I also had a horribly sore left nipple at this point. It was raw and chafed and it was murder to nurse on that side. I kept going though, to keep my supply up, but it was torture. Lansinoh wasn’t helping, so the midwives gave me a prescription for Dr. Jack Newman’s own special nipple cream which had to be custom mixed by a pharmacist. I sent Chris to the drugstore to get some, but they didn’t have all the right ingredients. They referred him to a special compounding pharmacy, but they were closing soon and we’d have to wait until the next day. I think I had a minor meltdown at that news. When he finally arrived home with this cream the next morning, things turned around. The nipple healed quite quickly after that, and spending the day entirely topless probably helped too. I studied and studied my LLL literature and read my Newman book and made sure Andrew was latched on correctly. It took patience to wait for him to open his mouth wide enough to put him on the breast, but I could immediately tell the difference when he was on right.
I can’t talk about the babymoon period without mentioning the number of people that phoned and visited in the first week. On the day of his birth, he met my mother, and then Chris’s brother and his wife and three kids stopped in to meet the baby at around suppertime. The next day he met more friends of ours, plus my aunt. On day three he met my brother and some more friends. On day four, my father finally arrived in town to meet his first grandchild. The phone calls were never-ending. A lot of it was people returning our calls, but it was ceaseless. We didn’t realize we knew so many people. Somehow, none of this bothered me. I was still on a high and Andrew was sleeping enough at night that I wasn’t totally exhausted. But I did stay in bed for almost the entire first week, on midwives’ orders. They had told me to remain horizontal and basically to not use the stairs at all. So I was basically on bedrest, which was fine by me! My mom and Chris brought me food and drink and made sure I took my medicines (ibuprofen, Bach Flower Remedy, Arnica). I was well taken care of and didn’t have to do anything aside from greet people from my bed, talk on the phone, and fall in love with my baby boy. I didn’t get restless – I felt like I could continue like this indefinitely. Not only did my mom make all kinds of food, she went out and bought a ton of groceries. And when my dad was in town, he ran a bunch of errands for us, which was a great help.
On Andrew’s fifth day, Chris’s parents arrived in town and spent their days at our house. His mom cooked and his dad held the baby a lot. It actually got to the point where I wanted my baby back, he was being held so much by other people downstairs while I stayed in bed. I missed him! I did come down the stairs once or twice, but I could feel that I wasn’t quite ready for it yet and took it easy the next day.
After a week and a half off, Chris had to go back to work. So there were three weekdays where I was by myself the whole time. I didn’t do too badly, but I was sure happy to see Chris when he arrived home each day. And there was no getting anything accomplished. I was still sore so I couldn’t sit at the computer, and frequent feedings, attempted naps, and trying to feed myself took up the entire day. We tried the sling a few times and it made life much easier – I could make myself a sandwich or throw in a load of laundry while Andrew dozed peacefully away in the sling.
So we’re now at 4 weeks, and I think we’re doing really well. Andrew hasn’t been weighed for two weeks (we’re going in today), but at two weeks he was at his birth weight again, finally. He’s nursing frequently, spitting up a fair bit but not too much, peeing and pooping like a champ and seems generally happy most of the time. So I’m sure he’s thriving. I am anxious to see how much he’s gained. He seems to be outgrowing his tiniest outfits already.
I swear I saw a real smile a week ago, but nobody believed me at the time. He had just been changed and was wide awake, ready to eat but not at all fussy or cranky yet. I was hovering over him, talking and smiling, and he was quiet and staring at me when all of a sudden his mouth spread into a wide grin for a brief moment. It literally got me all teary-eyed, it was so sweet. But of course there was nobody here to witness it! Now there have been a few more and Chris has seen them too. He’s also getting quite good at lifting his head when we are holding him over our shoulders. We took him to a photo studio last weekend for his first professional portrait.
Our first few outings have been successful. Once, with Andrew in his car seat on the stroller, my MIL and I walked down to the main street in my neighbourhood and ate lunch at a good, quick restaurant, then walked back home. It was a beautiful day and Andrew slept the entire time. He’s been to the midwives’ clinic twice, and slept in the car the whole time. Once my MIL and I ventured out to Pottery Barn Kids and he again slept the entire time. And last Sunday, Chris and I took him grocery shopping and he slept soundly in his car seat the whole time! So I am gaining confidence in leaving the house with him. We went out for brunch with friends last weekend, and for lunch on Monday. We haven’t yet been out long enough to need to feed him, so that is the next hurdle. I’m not sure how I’ll do with breastfeeding in public, since our favoured position is the side-lying position in bed. I’m OK with the cradle hold, but it takes a bit more coordination and patience. And it helps to have my u-shaped pillow around my waist.
I guess I can’t end this entry without talking about diapering. Since we were caught short when I went into labour, we had to run out and get a package of disposables, which we used until the diaper service dropped off the first load. However, when they arrived, the diapers were way too big and we had to get her to drop off the next size down. It took a few more days before we were willing to try them, and when we did, the leg holes were still too big and this resulted in lots of leaks. So we are still at that point, where the cloth are less than ideal, and we’re still using disposables at night and for outings. I purchased 20 fitted diapers online last week (www.extraordinarybabyshoppe.com - a Canadian site) and five covers. They should arrive any day. So as soon as he fits into them, I’ll start using those, plus the 18 diapers I already have that are still way too big. I still need a few more things, and depending on fit, I might have to still use ‘sposies at night for a while.
So now that I’m up-to-date, I’ll try and get back into the every-two-weeks or so schedule of entries. I guess I’ll be moving to either Babies Today or Moms Today soon. Which one should I go for?
A few TTM questions though:
Co-sleeping: We’ve been doing this every night and Andrew obviously does well this way. But I’m thinking I’d like to try him in his cradle fairly soon. Any tips on making the switch? I’d pull the cradle right next to my side of the bed for easy nighttime access.
Pacifiers: My MIL kept hinting that Andrew was using me as a pacifier when he’d nurse so frequently for long periods. It wasn’t really bothering me, but it was obvious she would have plugged a soother into his mouth. I consulted Dr. Sears and Dr. Newman, and they both had mixed feelings about using a pacifier, and advised against it in “the first few weeks.” When Andrew hit four weeks, I tried, just out of curiosity, to put a newborn Avent soother into his mouth while he was fussing. He rejected it, over and over. So he doesn’t seem to want it, or need it. So to heck with the MIL. I’m happy to let him get his comfort from my nipple at this point. Any advice or recommendations?
Cloth diapers: Any recommendations for small newborns? He’s still likely only 8 lbs. And fairly long and lean, so leg holes are too roomy for him.
 |  |
|
want to keep a diary on iParenting?
Authoring a diary on the iParenting network allows you to chronicle your family's story, preserving it for years to come. It's also a great way to get the most out of the iParenting community. Click here to start...
|
The iParenting Media Awards program helps parents find the best products for their families. 
