Milk shakes

I don't know what I thought breastfeeding would be like.

It freaked me out a little because I didn't really know what to expect. And it hurt a little at the start. For longer than I had read it was meant to.

But now? No worries.

But it's the mechanics of it that shock me. I guess I knew what went where, but didn't know what exactly happened. Like the baby got magically filled up like when you plug your mobile in to the charger.

Not quite.

Because if my baby magically detaches herself, she will end up with milk sprayed all over her. And the couch/pillow/my singlet.

Sometimes I feel bad.

But sometimes I let myself laugh at the way she has streaks of milk all over her face and a glistening halo of droplets in her hair.

Or how she will pant as she tries to catch her breath.

Not when she kind of chokes from the force of it.

But definitely when I don't notice that she's snuck off and is just getting hosed in the ear/eyes/nose.

More rolling

I got the husband to witness the baby's new trick on the weekend, but he said it was the bed making her do it.

When I was washing her the other night, she rolled from belly to back on the washing machine. That's a firm surface, so it had to be all her. And yes, I keep a hand on her while she's up there, all the time.

So not only has she started to roll, but she also showed me how she can push her little bath chair by propping her legs at the end of the bath, as well as lifting her butt and belly out of the water by doing the same thing with her nuggety little legs and feet.

Up and running in no time!

Woah

The hierarchy of tears for babies never ceases to confuse me.

The baby can squawk and screech for half an hour before she squeaks out a burp, a nappy-rattling fart (literally - she was laying on me yesterday and I saw the back of her nappy rattle) or a splash of turd, but she can lay on her back and fountain out a stream of milk that reaches more than half a metre away and she only smiles coyly?

I mean, if I was laying down after a good meal and suddenly threw up in such a manner that I kept my front dry and my back wet, ruined the giant bed I was laying on, and could see that my gross volume reached further away from me than I am tall, I'd probably be a little emotional about it.

Sickness and health

The husband is coming down with a cold.

I'd like to shoot whoever passed it on to him.

I've been very lucky so far (TOUCH WOOD!!) that my last cold was in August 2010.

He has a headache, he's tireder (didn't think it was possible), he has a sore throat and he's sleeping in the spare room.

I was thinking that it might not be so bad, that if he's hanging out at home a little more I can get some extra things done while he nurses the baby. But he won't nurse the baby for fear of making her sick. And now I've got two babies, and negative help.

Fingers crossed it's gone overnight...

12 weeks

Today I started the Michelle Bridges 12 week body transformation - she's doing a special round for new mums/pregnant women.

Did you know that breastfeeding is meant to burn about 500 calories a day?

So far it's going well (almost 24 hours in) - I did the whole take-a-photo-in-your-undies thing, took some measurements and tried to focus on the positives.

I did really well in the pushup and flexibility tests, but had to walk the 1km fitness test (I was told I wasn't allowed to get straight in to running) and couldn't even manage one sit up (damn stomach muscles).

I've eaten beans with all three meals today (a first! Normally I eat zero beans!) and haven't had any caffeine.

Not only is it outlining all my meals and exercise, and giving me things to think about (to perhaps help me understand my relationship with food), I'll be getting healthier (not just leaner {hopefully}).

But the best thing for me is that I've got something to concentrate on during the day. Like rather than sitting down on the internet, holding the baby, waiting for the husband to come home so I can actually do stuff, I'm more proactive in getting her settled/occupied so that I can do what I need to.

I've got things running in my mind, rather than letting the gray fuzzies be my primary thoughts.

First weigh in is on Wednesday....

Addiction

I have an addiction to onesies.

Seriously, it's stupid.

I mean, once you get to the point of hoarding outfits in the babies room so that you can wash them and sneak them in to her drawer without your husband noticing, it's probably time to stop visiting the shops with the teeny-tiny suits on those teeny-tiny hangers.

Hugs

Baby had a fantastic sleep last night, from before midnight until just before 8am. Of course, I got to sleep after midnight, woke up at 3am and went to the bathroom and woke up at 6am when she was sleep-crying.

She timed her feeding perfectly that I got to my doctor's appointment right on time, then was mostly lovely while I visited work friends. Then, we got home, and she timed another feed perfectly so there was no blank time between finishing and meeting a friend at Floriade - where she was mostly lovely.

And it was on the drive home that I realised I missed hugging her. Because we had been out and about all day, there wasn't any of that time where she grumbles and I hold her on the couch and sing to her.

I got a feeling in my shoulders and upper arms, like a physical longing to be holding her teeny-pudgy body in my arms.

It made laying on the couch and looking up at her big googly head all the lovelier.

Even when she spewed on my clean tshirt.

More advice

Almost 11 weeks in, there is advice I am given that I know to ignore: 'put honey on her dummy so she takes it' (babies younger than 12 months can pick up botulism from honey - bad idea).

Then there is advice that seems reasonable: 'put a book under the top of your babies mattress to raise the head of gassy babies to help them sleep better'.

But then you do it and wrap the baby and place her in, go to the bathroom, then make a split second decision to check on her before you unpack the groceries, only to find that she's rolled with her head perilously close to the mesh side of the bassinet because of the book.

And the guilt is shit.

And you can't picture it in your mind for fear of what could have happened.

And you wonder when are you going to stop being the stupid mum and be the good mum?

Ironic

I've never really been sure of what irony is.

But I checked the lyrics and couldn't see 'getting halfway through telling the husband that it's good the baby is pooping less, just as she sprays forth an ocean of green pea foam' in there.

But then, lots of people said not everything in the song was actually irony...

Eating out

Last night we took the baby out for dinner with my family.

It was kind of a success?

She fed at 5pm, fiddle fart-assed around for an hour, and finished her feed at 6pm - dinner was at 7:30 in the city. She hadn't napped much during the day - 45 minutes in the morning, and another 45 in the afternoon.

As soon as we got to the restaurant, she started to cry. Not loud, but constant. And she got passed from person to person (including the waitress who told me she was tired and hungry) and she didn't stop. It carried on for close to an hour before the husband excused himself, took the inconsolable baby outside, and settled her - she finally took the dummy and she sat in my arms as I finished my meal.

And dropped food on her.

And it stained her tshirt but it only cost me $2 from Target, so I'm not too worried about that.

I felt bad about it though. I've only been stuck in places with crying babies a few times before I fell pregnant, and the noise would grate on me. So instantly, I was like 'ugh - I am that person'.

I spoke to the husband about it when we were home, and though he said he's in no hurry to take her out to dinner again, he said it was no problem. She was tired and hungry, and the restaurant was a whole new stimulating environment - she would have been a little overwhelmed even if she was well-rested and fed.

And my family were very reassuring too. They said she was quiet, that people didn't look bothered, that it wasn't a big deal.

And I will know to make sure we have expressed milk with us next time, so that we can calm her a little.

I just worry about being the type of person with a feral child, oblivious to it all. I need to take a breath, assess the situation for what it really is, and act appropriately.

Rolling

This morning, during tummy time, the baby rolled from her belly, over her left shoulder to her back.

I was a little surprised, so put her back on her belly. And she rolled over her right shoulder to her back.

Three times a charm - she did it again over her right shoulder.

It might have been a fluke, but three times in a row is a pretty big deal. And the fact that she went both ways would indicate that it wasn't just the angle of the bed she was on at the time.

Milestone!

Circles

Having a baby was a big thing for me. Not just in a 'woah, there's a person living on my insides' or a 'we need to buy a lot of stuff' or a 'when/how will we holiday' kind of way. But conceptially. Big picture stuff.

A baby will be born, and it's mine.

My baby.

And when we found out the baby would be a girl, it became a little bigger. I will have a daughter, we will have a daughter.

And now we're pretty settled with the fact that we have a baby. And getting more used to the feeling that we have a daughter. But it's bigger than that again.

We have a daughter.

But four people also  have a granddaughter.

Five people have a niece (officially, but really, eight people have a niece) (and unofficially, lots of our friends have an honorary niece).

Two people have a great-granddaughter.

Stacks and stacks of people now have a second cousin (I have more than twenty cousins, and I think the husband has seven) and I don't know what aunts and uncles now have, but I have sixteen of them and the husband has six).

It's like a series of circles - she's not only mine, she's something to a lot of other people.

We didn't just make her for us, it seems we made her for a lot of people.

Advice

While I was out and about yesterday, the baby was having a bit of a cry in her shoulder. Nothing massive, just a bit whingey.

"Is she hungry?" I was asked.

"No no," I responded lightheartedly (like getting asked this sort of stuff by random people is just no biggie), "she just ate. She just wants to be held."

"I don't think she wants to be held. I think she just wants her mummy to look at her and talk to her."

This sort of 'advice' is not helpful.

Particularly when you are a stranger.

In the chemist.

Where you work.

And you're a man.

And a rather flamboyant one at that.

I don't mean to be rude (although I don't know why I'm minding my manners now!) but that sort of 'advice' is not helpful.

Expectations

The unwritten rules are far and few between.

Thank you notes were a big one - after pulling together postcards as a thank you for a wedding, the first time I sat down to write them was after the baby shower. And I pounded them out the night after the shower.

Of course, I probably should have written them for all the generous gifts we were given once the baby arrived. And I had every intent to do so - I bulk purchased thank you cards when they were on sale before the shower - but the first few weeks were a bit of a blur, and gifts were washed and put away at random, and no one in the house was in any real frame of mind to make a note of who gave what and when. I just hope everyone realises how appreciative we were (are?!).

Another interesting one came to light last night when some of the baby's, ehm, older relatives came to visit. I was sitting with them as the baby was being held and coddled, as she is want to be.

"You've grown so much since last time I saw you", she was told. "Tell your mummy she needs to send me some photos. Yes! Tell your mummy she's been slack and needs to send me some photos!".

I started to explain that I really only take photos on my phone (mental note: take more 'everyday' pictures with the proper camera) and I have stacks, but I don't print them out.

*silence*

"Tell your mummy to stop being slack to send me some proper photos! Yes!".

Point taken.

I printed out 25 of the photos I had on my computer that I had emailed myself from my phone. Of couse, they're grainy, they're zoomed in, and they're pretty MySpacey. But they're photos. Printed photos.

And if someone had told me I was meant to be printing and mailing photos, then I think it's something I would have actually done. Particularly in this case.

Up and on

I took the baby in to the health clinic to get her ten week measurements.

I was a little worried because she's been feeding for less time, pooping less (four times rather than six-eight a day) and hasn't been looking AS chubby.

In the last two weeks - BAM - she's grown 2cm longer and put on over half a kilo.

*phew!*

(She's getting more efficient at feeding and the less pooping is totally normal - breastfed babies can go up to a fortnight with no poop, no worries!)

Patterns

In the same way I should have learnt that telling people my baby sleeps from midnight to 6am would mean she wakes up three-hourly, I should have known that agreeing to lunch with awesome people 'because the baby falls asleep in the pram and is totally well behaved - it's like she's not even there!' means that I've had to jiggle-nurse a baby while I eat lunch and blush twice this week already.

On the plus side, I think she's acted pretty cute once she stopped crying for them.

But on the negative side, I am now officially that woman with the crying baby in the food court/restaurant that everyone looks at and wonders why they are here/can't keep their baby quiet (though it didn't get to me too much).

=======
I can never spell restaurant on the first go!

Sleep cry

The baby has spent the last 24 hours working a new bit of magic - she sleeps in your arms, and the moment you go to put her down - *BING* - eyes are wide open. And she won't stay down. She wails the SADDEST sounds.

As a result, we've had a bit of time to watch her sleep. She is a sad-face-sleeper. Almost always a serious-face awaker, almost always a sad face sleeper.

And she just pulled THE saddest face - like a second before you would expect to get a giant round of sobs.

What on earth is she dreaming about?

(This bodes extra poorly, as the husband suffered night terrors as a child...)

Little pleasures

The husband had some friends over last night. When I asked one of them if he would like to hold the baby, he actually looked excited about it (he had expressed disappointment about her being asleep the other times he had visited her).

Something about grown adult males being keen to hold a baby - just lovely.

Dummy, dummy

I should have learnt that telling people that things are going well, means that they will stop doing so ;o)

Not so bad, but baby woke to feed at 12, 6 and 9. The husband worked out I was still tired, so he changed her and took her out of the bedroom - I slept until 2:30 and it was SO FANTASTIC to wake up when my body wanted to, not hers.

Of course, once I was up, the husband explained how close he was to bringing her back in to me.

Until he thought of the dummy.

Which he is now in love with.

And, when she was squawking overtired tonight, I fell in love with it too.

Now I understand why parents are in to them - I didn't really understand what they were used for.

Basically, you just shove it in to a crying baby to make it stop!

Why didn't they just have that on the internet?!

Good day

Today was one of the good days - the days that make you feel like it's all coming together for you.

She woke up close to 5am, so I got a good block of sleep.

She woke up again closer to 7am, which was too soon for another feed, and as I lay there debating when and how I would just settle her back to sleep, we both fell back asleep.

She woke again closer to 9am, fed happily, lay quietly while I got dressed and did some chores.

She sat happily and napped in my lap at a friends house for four hours.

She fed and napped on me until the husband came home.

I went out to dinner with friends and when I approached her in the bassinet as she called out for a feed, she smiled at me.

Today was a very good day.

More smiles

They're coming hard and fast!

Wednesday morning, the husband got big smiles.

Wednesday lunchtime, it was smiles for her Nana.

Wednesday afternoon, big smiles for her Pa.

I'm working hard to keep them coming - I hope they stick around!

Dear Baby - Month #2

Dear baby,

Today, you are two months old. And in a potentially bad sign of what is yet to come, I almost forgot!

This month, our biggest achievement is your smiles - we're getting more and more that aren't just you expressing your unadulterated joy at filling your nappy.

We left you to be babysat for the first time, and made it out to the movies for the first time in ages. It went well for all of us, with you expressing more distress at coming back to us than you did at being left with one of your nana's.

The husband pointed out how much more you look around now. While you're not exactly responding as we call your name, more and more you are watching the husband as he walks out of the room, staring at the mobile above the change table when you're on the bed with me, or moving that head around for tummy time.

Speaking of, we've been working on your tummy time and you're doing a fantastic job - my family were very impressed with the way you managed to hold that great gonky head of yours above the table. We've been sure to hold you upright more, and on the husbands belly, for extra strengthening.

Your sleep has changed up - for a week or so I was feeding you at midnight and then again at five or six, so I was getting some great sleep. Its funny what a difference it makes when you start your sleep (and hence your waking up!) a bit earlier - it really knocks me around. But you're definitely sleeping more at night - there's been nights of 6 - 9 hours between feeds, and I know I'm very lucky for that. Whether it is linked to the way that we have been bathing you every night for a few weeks now, I'm not sure, but it is very easy to see how much you enjoy the bath - quietly staring up at the bottom of the laundry cupboards as you splash and stomp your legs, sparkly eyed.

The husband and I are also getting better at working out what's a matter when you start to make some noise. *knocking wood* it's been a week or so since we've had to walk the floor and pump the music for you, and I like to think it's because we're all getting to know each of the others communicates. You're also not crying as much when you're due for a feed - its starting to sound more like you're calling out to us, rather than yelling in anger that we haven't worked it out already.

We also celebrated our very first Father's Day. I gave him the traditional gifts of socks, undies, chocolates, and a 'dad' mug and tshirt, while you gave him a more sentimental framed collage of yourself and the two dogs, with paw prints included. It was a lot more successful than the keyring I got engraved for daddy - you have to hold it at a particular angle to see the picture of your big moon head that I took on the day you turned one month old.

I now understand what all those mummies were talking about when they said that this time just flies. I enjoy those moments where you just want to be held all the more. I take a delight that I never though I would, in sniffing your hair and kissing your round cheeks. Already so much has changed since last month, and so much more since the time you were born. The quiet moments, the teary moments, the smiley moments and the pouty moments...what a journey.

Support

I'm very lucky to have so much support in raising baby.

I don't know how I would have survived without the husband being at home with me for the first four weeks - to look back on it, it's such a blur now.

I joined the Essential Baby forums once I found out I was pregnant, and have met an amazing group of women (all due in July 2011) who answered many of my inane (and probably obvious) questions. We've moved over to a facebook group, and it is such a godsend to have almost fifty other women who are all more than happy to chime in with advice and support, as well as sharing their stories.

Two other girls in my branch at work gave birth in March, and they invited me along to their informal mothers group. It is so wonderful to be able to hook in to the knowledge of these awesome ladies who have been through what I'm going through, but three months ago.

Another girl at my work, who is also the sister of a friend of a friend, AND whose partner is a second cousin of the husband, had her daughter the day before I had mine. We've caught up for coffee but chat a lot over facebook, and she's always so supportive and helpful with her advice, and listens/reads my ramblings.

Both the husband and I have family who are more than keen to look after her (whether we're there or not!) and to look after us as well.

I don't think I'd be anywhere as near as comfortable as I am now without all of these people.

Just wonderful.

Smiles

A lot of my posts are written/published later in the day... oh look! That's witching hour! Perhaps that's why I sound so mopey in some of them ;o)

Unfortunately, this means that I didn't get to let you know the day that the baby showed her first real smile - Wednesday She fluked it in the morning and I managed to get her to do it again later in the day when I was taking her photo as part of her present to the husband for Father's Day.

And, lamely, it brought a tear to my eye!.

Fact

I don't care that you're half me, and what you're producing is pretty much all me, your vomit STILL grosses me out!

Tummy time

Tummy time is something I'd heard of before baby was born, but didn't really know what it was about.

Tummy time literally gets babies off their backs. It provides a break for the occipital area, or back of their heads, and gives babies a chance to strengthen their neck muscles to prepare them for crawling. It also helps them to get ready to push up, roll over, sit up, and eventually stand.

We visited the free community nurse yesterday, armed with a bunch of questions I was meant to have already asked at various points in time - the mark on the back of her head is a strawberry, and nothing to worry about; we shouldn't worry about hyperlactation; we should try carrying her on the other side to stretch out her neck if she's favouring sleeping on her left side; soft drinks shouldn't be affecting her tummy - and were told that she should do tummy time six times a day.

It sounds easy enough, putting your baby on her belly that many times, but it's crazy in practicality just how quickly the day goes!

We're getting in to a bit of pattern, if she's asleep I wake her to feed her at around midnight when I go to bed (if she's not already asleep) and then she doesn't wake until 5:30ish, and again at 9:30ish. Our nappy changing routine is getting quicker. She is usually quite happy after a feed to lay beside me if I express or to just hang out on the bed while I get dressed. She understands the process of getting in and out of the car a lot better and doesn't complain as much.

She's pretty good at holding her bobble head up for fair periods of time when we hold her up at her shoulder, so I'm not too concerned, but it's got me thinking about what other things I should be doing (and how often!) at each stage.

Bottle context

I feel I should provide some more context to yesterday's post.

The day started out really well, she napped for a few hours so I moved around the house, from random task to random task (sorted out the medicine cabinet! reordered the crap on the fridge! put my bobby pins in to one section of the drawer and my elastics in the other!) and then after an afternoon feed I did a bit more on my secret father's day project for the husband.

But then she didn't nap again.

And then she became overtired. And whingey. And now that she has real tears, it's all the more dramatic.

I needed to put away the father's day stuff, so I put her in the Baby Bjorn and packed up, then picked some flowers from the front yard because the camellia and the magnolia are blooming and the weather was fantastic and it seemed a fitting way to farewell winter.

So after wandering around the front yard with a pair of scissors, alternating between imitating / mocking / ignoring my crying baby, I headed out the back for more little purple flowers.

Which is when I saw one of the dogs running around with a dead mouse.

Of course (OF COURSE) she knew she had an 'awesome' prize, and wouldn't perform her 'drop it' or 'come', so I had to cram a lot of treats in to the other dog before she realised she was missing out on something. Not before she hid the corpse in one of the garden beds.

So then I am scraping a garden bed with part of the poop scooper, with a screaming baby strapped to me, trying to tell her that we have to find the mouse even though I don't REALLY want to find it, but I didn't want the dead mouse in the house.

After five minutes of scurrying through the dead leaves, I let the dog back out to see if I can see where she put it. And of course, she gets it and starts to bring it towards the house.

I managed to corner her around the side of the house and could hear her burying it again - lo and behold she comes around the corner with a dirty nose, crouching because I am yelling at her to get out of it. And then I repeat my poop scooper routine, with a continual side of screeching baby.

And I can hear the neighbours in their backyard, and I know they can hear me failing to console my miserable baby as I yell at my dog and try not to vomit or cry or both because it makes me so sad to know that my dog killed the mouse, and so anxious to think about having to pick it up, and frustrated at not being able to find it and terrified of actually finding it. And I'm telling my baby 'I know. This isn't how I saw it all going either.'.

We decided it was a job for the husband and locked the dogs out for an hour and a half, to limit the chances of the dead mouse coming in the house.

And then the baby continued to cry, until three minutes before the husband came home from work. And then she kicked off three minutes before he left for sport. And she cried when I got her ready for her bath, and after her bath, and in between gulps as I put a boob in it to try to keep her quiet. And then after the husband came home, and extra hard while I was feeding the dogs, and while I was heating dinner (yay packet soup) and then while I was meant to be eating dinner. I fed her again and she got dozy, then the husband managed to voodoo her to sleep by walking in the other room while patting and singing to the loud music.

I know it's not reasonable of me to go from highs to these lows.

I know they're not really 'lows', just moments of frustration and tiredness that I would be having with something else if I didn't have a baby.

I know it wouldn't necessarily be any easier if the husband didn't have sport three times a week because he is already tired from work and gets frustrated too, and then I feel guilty for having two frustrated people in the house. Or really, three.

I know I wouldn't really want my baby to be 'disadvantaged' with the bottle instead of breast milk.
I know I wouldn't really rather be at work.
I know I will look back at these days one day with a longing for when she was so small and precious and innocent and helpless.

It's just.... you know.