Surviving Back to Work

Tomorrow marks the end of my fifth week back at work. I’ve been back to work five weeks. FIVE WEEKS! As fast as that year off passed, I’m pretty certain the past month plus passed faster. I feels like just yesterday was April 16 and I was putting on my “sitting shoes” (you ladies know what I’m talking about, the pretty, high heeled shoes you wear only for sitting, because walking anywhere further than a photo copier or water cooler would be stupid and painful and stupid… )

Practical? No. Pretty? Most definitely!

But I digress... it feels just yesterday that I was putting those shoes on for the first time in about a year and heading out the door into a brand new world, the world of the working mom. It feels like I blinked and I was back at it more than a month. Here’s how I survived.

I mentally prepared myself. I told everyone I was ready, looking forward to going back. And I was, it just helped to be saying that out loud over and over every time someone asked. You say it and it becomes true. Even when there’s a shadow of a doubt, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. I am fortunate to like what I do for a living, to like where I work, and to be surrounded by colleagues who are of the same mind, generally speaking. I also like to think about things other than diapers and bibs, to challenge my mind. While I loved being off, I was looking forward to the change. And just saying it out loud to family and friends reinforced that for me so that when a moment of doubt came creeping in, I was able to kick it back out and say it to myself.

I found awesome care arrangements. I realize many people struggle with care arrangements, so I count my blessings that my best friend was able to take Hudson P for us. Having him in a home where I am confident he is picked up when crying, fed when hungry, changed when wet, cuddled when sleepy, and just loved all day made that transition back to work significantly easier on my heart and my mind. I urge every momma out there to try to do the same. Look early, plan accordingly. I know actual daycare places are hard to come by, particularly for babies under two, and that they generally cost an arm and a leg. I also know it would be hard to leave HP with a stranger in their home. But taking the time to find that place, that environment, that person that makes your heart simply feel right is key.

I planned the transition. As a general rule, I like to feel like I’ve got a handle on things, which naturally makes me a planner. Heading back to work was no different. I planned Hudson’s transition into care. He and I went by for a couple of play dates/visits in the weeks leading up to my return date. I also made sure to plan a solo visit for him, where I could stay for a bit and then leave (with an appointment at the hair salon, so I wasn’t tempted to go back early!). That helped me feel confident he knew the environment where he’d be spending his days. I also planned meals. I stocked the freezer with some soups, chili, and casseroles in lunch and supper sized portions, along with muffins for breakfasts, and sweets for evening treats. Knowing that meals were taken care of after long days or during morning rushes was key those first couple of weeks.

Crawling around at Aunt Sandy's - enjoying the new toys!

I went with flow. Not my forte (at least in my personal life!) let me tell ya, but I decided to go with it. If I've been running late for work, I took a deep breath and just worked through lunch or late on the other end to make up for it. If the furniture was dusty, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes (to wit, I dusted on Wednesday for the first time in five weeks, I probably shouldn't admit that, but it's true). If that laundry didn’t get done til the weekend, I took a deep breath and remembered we all have more than enough clothes to wear. As a result, I have a growing pile of wrinkly clean clothes on the ironing board, fingerprints all over the front of the flat screen and fridge, and a happy me. I focus on making sure everything looks tidy and that the floor is swept, and I’m all good. Seriously, just go with the flow.

And, before I knew it, five weeks have come and gone and we’re no worse for the wear. There were no tears on the first day back, for me or HP. Hudson has adjusted well to his new situation, loves seeing his little buddies in the morning and his ‘rents in the evening. We’ve not starved to death. We’re all in clean clothes (even if a little wrinkly). I’ve managed to keep up with race training and groceries, but maybe not all the housekeeping. And it’s all ok. We’re just getting into a new rhythm at the Ryan household. Some days it’s more of a dance than we’ve been used to, but it’s a rhythm we can groove to for the long haul.

Celebrate Friday, Celebrate Your Momma

Just a little happy for you on your Friday.

Image from here

The sun is shining where I am, I have a massage appointment later today, along with a bottle of tasty red waiting to be cracked open. All in all makes for an awesome Friday in my books.

And it’s Mother’s Day weekend to boot, allowing me to celebrate all the awesome mommas in my life. My momma who raised me right. Her momma who did the same for her. My hubby’s momma who blessed me with a gentleman. My sister who reminds me to be less uptight about it all, taking it all in stride with a beautiful four year old to show for it. My bestie who’s raising three amazing boys of her own and being the next best thing for my HP during the week. And so many many more strong, smart, amazing women. I’m truly one lucky lady to be surrounded by so many lovely ladies.

I hope you take time to honour all the mommas you’ve been blessed with. And of course, enjoy your Friday!

A New Olympic Sport

I'm in the backseat of the car. Pulled over on the side of the road. Beads of salty sweat have started to form on my face.I'm contorted into a position I'm sure I haven't seen since high school gym class or that yoga session I did a few years back. My legs are cramping up and I have a kink in my neck. The windows are getting steamy as the heat inside the car rises. No, I wasn't up to anything nearly as bawdy as it sounds. But let me tell you it was certainly as dirty. I was changing a diaper.

As I mentioned yesterday, we spent the weekend in Bonavista attending a lovely wedding. Making our way back to town on Sunday morning, we were somewhere between Port Union and Port Rexton when my darling boy put on his poo face. Yep. All red, scrunched and grunty, we immediately knew what he was up to. Shortly thereafter a certain parfum d'boy confirmed it. And while my boy is ok to hang out in a wet diaper pretty much all day if you left him alone (which, for the record, we don't!), he is not ok sitting in his own poo and let's us know it. Though really, I don't blame him.

Fortunately, we were planning to stop at the Two Whales Cafe in Port Rexton to grab a couple of decent coffees for the road, so it made sense to change him there. We pulled into the cafe and Des went in for the coffees while I tackled the backseat diaper change. My theory was it was unlikely the cafe had a change table in the washroom, so I'd end up laying the boy on the floor and I was convinced the backseat of our car was probably cleaner. In hindsight, while the car might have been cleaner, the washroom floor was likely more spacious. 20/20 indeed.

Of course, with the car seat back there there's only 2/3s of the backseat left to use. I couldn't open the door and lean into the car thanks to the ongoing dreadful weather saga that has been our so-called summer. So that left me sitting on about 1/3 of the seat and, well, you can do the math from there. I first hauled out all the gear I'd need from the diaper bag crammed on the floor by my feet - clean diaper, wipes, cream and change pad - and set myself up. Stretching myself across the great divide of the car, I managed to get the fragrant, whiny boy out of his seat onto the change pad. I stripped off his pants and sweater (thanks again to the summer that wasn't), unsnapped his onesie and got down to business on his business.

Same crap, different day :)
This was one of our warmer days, so I could stand outside for the task at hand!

But alas, no sooner was the diaper untabbed, he decided to pee. Anyone who has had boys knows what kind of disaster that is - it sprays up and out and over covering everything in it's path. Instinctively, I cup my hand over the warm stream, attempting to contain the damage as best I can (and  yes that's about as unfun as it sounds) and succeeded in redirecting most of the spray back into the already dirty diaper. However, Hudson did manage to soak his onesie, the change pad, the clean diaper and his rattle toy thingy enough that it was all rendered unfit for further use at the present time. Sigh. 

I contort myself into another position to get another diaper, another onesie and another toy out of the diaper bag and re-contort back into position to get this mess cleaned up. I roll the boy slightly to the left to dry off the change pad, which is thankfully vinyl. I then strip, wipe, cream and diaper the boy and manage to redress him in his clean shirt and his pants, deciding not to attempt putting the sweater back on - it was now warm enough in the car anyways, if only due to the panting and sweating I had going on. Phew, there that's done.

Or not. Just as I'm bagging up the dirty diaper and laundry, glancing longingly out the window to see if my espresso is en route, the poo face makes an encore appearance. You have to be kidding me kid?! But alas, kid he does not, just grunt and scrunch. I wait it out this time. I am making sure he is done this business before I go back in. Sigh. Then once again I twist myself around for new diaper supplies and re-twist for more undressing and undiapering, with some praying that the pee stream is not also planning it's encore. I re-wipe, re-cream, re-diaper and re-dress the boy. Phew, there that's done. Again.


Just then my darling husband appears with coffee and sweets and not a moment to soon. I enlist his help in getting the boy back in the seat while I tidy up the remnants of the event all while wiping the sweat from my brow and warding of the charlie horse that's threatening to make it's cameo. In all seriousness, if you've never changed a child in the backseat of a car, I assure you it should qualify as a new Olympic sport. It has sweat, panting, muscle-cramping and requires good balance, timing and determination. Though, by that criteria I guess the more bawdy backseat activity you were all thinking of earlier would also qualify. Somehow I doubt the IOC will go for that. 

But I digress. After all my hard work, the boy was smiling once again and, thanks to the americano, sweet treats and the abundance of hand sanitizer that I allowed me to enjoy it, so was I. And yes, you can just call me Mrs. Olympian from here on out.

Savouring The Moment

Just a moment I want to remember. Walking and dancing with the boy, brightening an otherwise dreary day.

Date Night

Last night, D and I enjoyed our first real date night. Though it wasn't our first night away from the boy -we'd attended the provincial IABC Pinnacle Awards (*ahem* where we both won awards *ahem*) and we also enjoyed a fantastic as in better-than-any-restaurat dinner the Faheys a couple of weekends ago - it was our first real solo date night. And it was awesome.

I won movie tickets from the Paperie for submitting this layout of my little man into their weekly scrapbook challenge:

The tickets were for an pre-release screening of Larry Crowne with Julia Roberts and Tom Hanks, which I'm sure was fantastic. Though we wouldn't be able to say ourselves. Long story short, we went all bad-ass and saw Bridesmaids instead. Hey, it was our first real date night and we both wanted to see Bridesmaids, so we made the most of our night out. So glad we did too - it was HI-LARIOUS. Seriously one of the funniest movies I've seen in a very long time. I haven't seen The Hangover (I know, I'm told it's a crime), but this is apparently possibly even funnier, at least according to my husband. If you've not yet seen it. Go. Now. Run to the theatre. And I assure you it's funnier when you're enjoying it over a supper of popcorn and peanut butter m&ms. As I said, we made the most of it. Many thanks to the Paperie for enabling our excursion and showing once again that scrapbooking is rewarding in many different ways.

Anyways, as new parents you're routinely reminded by various magazine articles, e-newsletters, and other parents to carve out time for yourselves as a couple. In those first few months, with Hudson's ongoing tummy issues and the directly-correlated lack of sleep, that was near about impossible. However, after last night, I really appreciate the importance of it. It was nice to hang out with just my wonderful husband, to hold his hand and chat about non-baby things. It was super-nice to do that outside of the house without listening to white noise in the baby monitor and jumping up mid-sentence to tend to a fussing babe. Not that we mind that mind you, it was just nice to be the two of us for a few moments.

And as much as I looked forward to and enjoyed the night out, once the credits rolled up I equally looked forward to and enjoyed picking our little man up and giving him a snuggle before tucking him in for the night. Whether you're a new parent or experienced parent, I strongly recommend you give date night a try. It reminded me of how nice it was to be just the two of us and how much better it is to now be three.

Boobs Don`t Equal Love

Last week a friend of mine posted a comment on her facebook page about the BabyNes - a new gadget from Nestle that provides single-serve formula to prepare a bottle to the right amount and temperature with the push of a button in under a minute. My friend's comment said "A small number of women are unable to breastfeed and for them formula is a necessary choice. But this machine just seems so very wrong. It disturbs me on many levels and I am still processing what bugs me. Here's one POV from a Newfoundland mom. I just wish that we could have lactation consultants promoted as slickly as these machines."

Of course, being a new mom for whom formula was a necessary choice, I was immediately pulled into the comment and linked through to this blog post on BabyFriendlyNL. I wanted to see what this machine was and, given I have great respect for the friend who's link I followed, I was fully expecting to find something terrible in the information I read. That turned out not to be the case. In fact, I found myself seething a little about the blog post. Initially, I tried to ignore it and move on, but over the last few days I've found myself still thinking about it and I decided I needed to offer up another perspective.

First, let me reiterate that I fully support breastfeeding. I entered into motherhood planning to breastfeed, attempted it for weeks and was devastated that I had to switch. For me and Hudson, formula was indeed a necessary choice. If I were to have another child, I would attempt breastfeeding again in a heartbeat. I would risk going through the hurt and frustration all over again just to try to give my child breastmilk. No question.

I also fully agree with my friend's comment about lactation consultants. For the rising number of women becoming mothers in this province (thank you Danny`s Dollars) there are far too few lactation consultants available in Newfoundland and Labrador. You generally only see one at the hospital after the baby is born if you're having difficulty. There are breastfeeding clinics all over the city of St. John's and, while staffed by wonderful public health nurses, to my knowledge only one clinic has lactation consultants available. And I'm not sure what the numbers are for outside the capital city. I've no doubt that if more lactation consultants were readily available to new moms and promoted in a better manner, the practice of breastfeeding would increase in our province.

Now back to the BabyNes and this blog post.


BabyNes image from Nestle



I agree with her thought that this machine, should it ever become available in Newfoundland and Labrador (right now it`s only available in Switzerland), could negatively impact breastfeeding. Sadly, we are already among the provinces with the lowest rates of breastfeeding in Canada, possibly the lowest, and a gadget that makes formula more convenient does risk that worsening. I think it is up to our health care system, government and society to invest in efforts to counteract those risks and we would certainly benefit from advocating for more funding and efforts to ensure adequate and appropriate promotion of breastfeeding



What I don't agree with is what she writes after that. She states that this machine is just a "milk maker" that "provides no cuddles, no comfort, no love. There’s no way it can come close to replacing breastfeeding." Well, of course not, it doesn`t claim to. What follows is an implication that only those who breastfeed offer their child comfort, safety and love. And that's the biggest pile of you-know-what. I assure you that my bottle-fed son receives ample love and cuddles even though he's not breastfed. Just as she does, when he cries in the middle of the night, I go across the hall and pick him up, hold him close and soothe him. I ensure he has plenty of skin-to-skin contact, snuggling him against my chest and tummy. Whenever that sweet little boy needs his mama, I am there. I am making sure he knows his mama, his family and his home is a safe place to be even though - gasp! - I'm not breastfeeding.



Snuggling with my boy, holding him close, showing him love...
even though my boobs are tucked away

Love, safety and comfort are not exclusive to breastfeeding. While a possible risk to the numbers of moms who choose to breastfeed, the BabyNes machine is not evil. It does not act as a baby-feeding robot. You don't leave the baby under the drip unattended. You simply fill a bottle with it. From there, you still have to hold your child close, feed him, burp him, cuddle him and soothe him.


Ironically, this woman also states in her post that "sometimes I think the milk doesn’t even matter." Well, if the milk doesn't matter, why so bothered by the machine. If it's really about the comfort, the hugs, the cuddles and the love, parents can offer that regardless of how they feed. Let`s not forget that love doesn`t come from the boob. It comes from the heart.

Old, New, Borrowed & Blue

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. No, I'm not planning another wedding. I am putting away laundry. While it seems I do that daily now, what makes it different today is that it's laundry with tags that read 3-6 months.

Over the last week or two, our little (almost-13lb) guy suddenly seemed to be reaching the tips of the toes in his sleepers and stretching those 0-3 month onesies taut at the seams. To prevent my mother from cutting the feet out of his PJs as she's threatened to do, I pulled out all the clothes in the next size up to go through and get it ready for wearing. That involved washing several loads of old, new, borrowed and blue clothes over the last few days. And think about it, this is baby clothes. Do you know how many itty bitty socks and teeny tiny t-shirts it takes to make up a large load in washer? A lot. An entire basket full in fact.

My first thought as I stacked the final load on top of the ones before it was "What??!!! When did my skinny little chicken turn into a chunky little monkey??" I remember hanging up all the new little outfits bestowed upon the little man from family and friends, thinking it'd be ages and ages before he'd fit into it. I remember sorting through barely-worn hand-me-downs, picking out the 0-3 months stuff and tossing the rest back into the bags for "months from now". Somehow, when I wasn't looking, those months have gone by. All those parents who warned me that the clock speeds up once babes arrive were right. If I could only find Father Time, I'd ask him to fix that up, y'all.

My second thought looking at that basket brimming with clothes was that all those parents were also right when they urged me to live in the moment because before you know it those moments are gone. When we first brought Hudson home, I'd lay him on my chest and his little toes would curl up into my belly button, he was so tiny. Now, albeit still tiny, his little toes rest on my hips and I know it won't be long until they're resting on my knees. I hate anyone touching my belly button (one of my many quirks), yet somehow I miss his toes resting there just so. And, while I'm grateful for getting more sleep now that we've moved him into his nursery, I already miss having Hudson lie next to me in the bed as he napped and I tried to do the same. Looking at the boxed up newborn clothes next to the large basket of 3-6 month stuff just reminded me to enjoy the moments we have now, even when they're challenging (like not sleeping and being so exhausted you cry because he's napping next to you in the bed), as much too soon they've passed.

my little guy wearing his big boy clothes 

My last thought as I looked at the basket of laundry was how grateful I am for our family and friends. Every stitch of clothes in that basket was either new (given as a gift), old (hand-me-downs from cousin Logan), borrowed (from the Fahey boys) and much of it of course was blue. So far, aside from a couple of things we chose to pick-up, we've not had to buy anything clothing-wise for our little guy, which is awesome. I find myself repeatedly thankful for all the support and love our family and friends have shown us as we've become a family of three. We are truly blessed.

So, during last night's 4am feeding, instead of heading back to my own bed as soon as I could, I decided to live in that moment, awake and tired, knowing there will be sleep-filled nights in my future once again while these warm snuggles in the wee hours will be only a memory. Instead of curling back up under my covers, I stared at him just a little longer than usual. I kissed his sweet cheeks. I smelled his head full of hair. I touched his dimply elbows. And I held him close long after he'd gone back to sleep.

All because of a mundane basket of old, new, borrowed and blue laundry.

There's an App for That

When AT&T aired their "There's An App For That" iPhone commercial back in 2009, I never thought I'd be grateful that they weren't lying when they said "there's an app for just about anything only on the iPhone". In fact, I never thought much about the ad at all as I didn't own an iPhone - then or now. Fortunately for me, my husband does.

While at the Janeway with Hudson on Sunday night waiting to see the doctor, it came close to feeding time. However, all around the waiting room are large signs saying don't give your child anything to eat or drink until they see a doctor. Uhm, yeah, ok. That might be easier said than done when it comes to a two month old. It's not exactly like you can rationalize with them about it. So I spoke with the triage nurse to see if that applied to us and, of course as my luck would have it, it did. No food for the boy until after the doctor had seen him.

Fingers crossed, I hoped the little man would surprise us and want to eat later than sooner. Again, as my luck would have it, he didn't. He started singing for his supper in the ER waiting room. Oh joy, oh bliss for us and the dozen other people there. I took him to the back of the waiting area to at least distant the others from the noise, swaddled him as that often helps calm him down for a short time and wished we had a vacuum cleaner or radio for static, which also usually calms him down more quickly than anything else. Alas, the Janeway ER doesn't come equipped with vacuums.




ahhh, Kenmore Upright, how do I love thee...

 As I try bouncing and rocking the swaddled wailing child-o-mine, Des says "I'll be right back" and quickly leaves the Janeway waiting room. While I know he hadn't abandoned us - he loves us too much for that - I wondered what on earth was so important that it had to be done that minute. I continued to rock and bounce to settle the boy, when my smarter-than-Einstein husband returned. He remembered that there's an app for just about anything and had gone outside to get phone service and downloaded a white noise app by TM Soft.

Yes, that's right people. There's a white noise app that, when turned up on top volume, serves the same purpose as a vacuum or radio static for our sweet child. It lulls him into a calm state and, luckily for us, that evening it also lulled him to sleep until we saw the doctor. We did the consult and by the end of it Hudson was again crying for his bedtime snack, so we fed him there at the hospital and placed him and the iPhone blaring white noise in his car seat and headed for home. The boy was sound asleep before we left the parking lot.

Thank goodness there's an app for that.

Mama Said There'd be Days Like This ...

And it wasn't just my mama, but all the mama's I know said there'd be days like this. Days where the newborn babe doesn't sleep, is fussy, is gassy, doesn't settle and you're exhausted, at your wits end and wondering when the reprieve will come. Yes, mama said there'd be days like this. What she didn't say was that there'd be months like this.

We're now well into month two with our little man and unfortunately almost every day (who am I kidding, it is every day ... every single day) is riddled with his poor tummy troubles. He's extremely gassy and uncomfortable most of the day and night. He grunts and groans and squirms, drawing his tiny little legs up to his belly and stretching them back out. He does this whether awake or asleep and when asleep he'd wake himself up crying every 15-45 minutes. It's been so troublesome, we've been to the doctor about six times, have had medication (that didn't work) and had an ultrasound on his stomach (that showed all clear). That's a lot for a little guy just 10 weeks old. Heck, it's a lot for the mama at 32 years old! The only consolation came when we showed the doctor a video and (again) explained what was happening and she acknowledged this isn't normal behaviour for a baby. Yes, some grunting and groaning, some squirming, some fussiness is all par for the course, just not to the extent that our little man seems to have it.

So, whaddya do? Apparently ride it out and hope for the best, which is what we've been doing for weeks. At the doctor's direction and chats with the public health nurses, we've been through the full array of formulas - first on the standard 'as close to breastmilk as possible' followed by a gentle one for fussy/gassy babies followed by a thickened one that's supposed to settle better in their tummy followed by the lactose-free (which made him ten times worse than any of the others!) followed most recently by a soy formula, which seemed to settle Hudson the most. Really, it has been just trial and error. As is the case with the infamous 20/20 hindsight, I should have just listened to my mother five weeks ago when she suggested trying soy, given both my sister and I were intolerant of milk, as was my nephew and one of Des' nieces. Mother knows best. I know that, so why I didn't listen to her is beyond me.

Anyways, fast forward a month when we finally switched to soy, we saw some improvement within hours of introducing it. He can now sleep up to (but not necessarily) a couple of hours without waking, though he stills squirms and grunts and groans throughout his sleep, we have more happy time with him than we had previously and he goes a little longer between feedings. But, he still wakes himself up despite still being sleepy, still keeps us up all night with the constant motion and noise and is still fussy for large portions of the day. After another week of that, we were back to doc who suggested that we continue to soy for a few more weeks. Her theory is that Hudson is sensitive to milk, so his little insides might be agitated and inflamed after weeks of being exposed to it and he just needs a little more time to adjust. So, we resumed riding it out and hoping for the best. 

In the meantime, we're still desperate for sleep and comfort for our boy and the return of some sense of normalcy in our (new) lives. We have been/are willing to try just about anything to get it. Now, don't get me wrong, there are lots of helping hands pitching in to make the time pass more restfully, including my mom and sister, my sisters- and brother-in-laws and friends, all willing to take their turn holding and feeding and (not)sleeping so D and I can get that solid night's sleep to re-energize for the week ahead. And I fully recognize that is much more than many new parents get, though many new parents also get babies that sleep semi-contentedly for longer than 20 minute stints, so I call us even-steven.

In an attempt to discover some untold baby-whispering secrets, I posted a video of the boy doing his thing on Facebook soliciting advice from anyone willing to offer it. Most of what was offered, while very much appreciated, we've already tried. We take care to feed him slowly, burp him well and keep him upright for a while after feeding. We tried Oval drops, which were like giving him water, and Gripe Water, which seems to help a little, but since we started that just after introducing soy we're not sure whether it was the GW or just the soy. Either way, we're not going to play with it to find out. We walk him, rock him, lay him across our knees, sit him upright and pat/rub/massage his back, all of which helps him settle for short times, but doesn't ward off the issue for long. We tried swaddling tight, which stopped the fussing and initial gassiness, but didn't help with sleep. We tried sleeping him on his back (which until very recently was an absolute no-go and sent him in to fits), on his side, on an incline, upright in his swing, even on his tummy while we watched closely. We've co-slept, cradle-slept, and playpen-slept. We tried holding him on our chests while we slept. Each has offered temporary relief, but none helped more than the other and none helped consistently.

This weekend, we tried a new combination of warm bath + massage + clean PJs followed by a story + bottle + good burping + upright snuggle time followed by a nice tight swaddle + placing him on his back on an incline + in his own crib. The only thing new in this mix, other than the combination, was the crib. We avoided that up til now as everyone said he was too small for that yet, but as it was the one piece of advice we'd not yet tried, we gave it a go. The first night went OK, with some decent sleeping.  The second night, not so much. As with all the other endeavours, the results were not consistent.

So, with no further improvement and another few rough nights under our belts, we decided we'd had enough. Not willing to wait another three weeks or more before seeing a pediatrician,we were off to the Janeway last night to see medical professionals who specialize in children and determine if there was something more we could or should be doing. After all was said and done, we concluded that even though the nurses and doctor were excellent, they're all just guessing and there's really no answer. We were told it 'could' be a number of things - possibly  his tummy adjusting to finally be milk free; possibly the just bothered by the number of formula changes he's had even though it was the right course of action to take; possibly a combination of that and some reflux, and perhaps he wasn't kept on zantac long enough; remote possibility of a UTI; or possibly just be colic even though Hudson doesn't show classic signs of colic. They really don't know and as he's otherwise healthy (putting on weight, good colour, regular bowel movements, eating well, etc) there's no need to do any invasive testing now. And if you ask me, I think they say it's possibly colic just because they don't have another explanation.
From here, we're scheduled for a pediatric clinic next week and were sent home with bottles to collect urine samples to rule out a UTI. Now that should be fun, catching the pee of a 2 month old in a bottle. Happy Monday to me ;) Otherwise we were assured it is ok to ignore his noise and squirming at night, so that's what we're trying to do. That, and continue to ride it out.

I, again, unabashedly and unashamedly am open to any advice mamas & papas wiser to babes than I can offer while we ride this out. And while mama may always be right, she was wrong when she said there'd be days like this. It really has been months. The only saving grace at this point is mama also always said that things start to even out in new babes around three months and that seemingly-elusive point-in-time is just two to three weeks away. I hope mama's right about that.

@ 2 Months

Holy smokes, Hudson is 2 months old! It flew by so fast, but also feels like he's been with us forever.

@ 2 months old, Hudson:

... still loves his swing, which is a blessing. He loves it so much we take it with us when we go to Nanny and Poppy's house, even though it means taking it apart somewhat.

... is soothed by the sound of loud white noise. I'm not talking those little white noise machines they make for nurseries (though we do use one of those with him at night), I'm talking about the vacuum cleaner and radio station static on bust. Yep, if he's really fussing and crying, stick him in his swing, plug in the vac and he calms down within minutes. I think we might have the cleanest floors in Paradise! Same in the car, just turn the radio between stations and crank it in the back - presto, quiet babes. Well for a short time anyway.

... is still working through his tummy troubles that keep him, mommy and daddy up all night. We're all hoping that will be sorted out soon. very soon. please and thank you.

... wiggles his little fingers and hands together when he's eating, kind of looking like a little chipmunk.

... has started cooing and oohing and aahing, like he's talking with us and that is awesome.

... usually falls asleep in the car, especially when going 100kms/hr on the highway. I think he gets the "love of speed" from his musclecar-lovin' dad ;)

... weighs about 11 and a half pounds.

... has long baby eyelashes framing those beautiful baby blues.

... looks so much like his handsome daddy that some people call him "mini-Des".

... now looks up at us with a big gummy grin that just melts our hearts and wipes all the troubles away.

Happy 2 Months HP!

Got Milk?

Several titles came to mind for this post ... Milk Duds, Booby Trapped, Bum Boobs, Booby Blues, Got Milk? ... though none of them make me very happy. I'll be honest, my boobs are not a topic I ever thought I'd write about here on my blog. Though, upon reflection, I'm not sure why, given breasts are a huge part of early motherhood. Anyways, it seems I have bum boobs and that leaves me, well, pretty much bummed.

As an expectant mother who fully intends to breastfeed, you have these notions of what it will be like. And really, my notions weren't unrealistic. They weren't of snuggles and cuddles or all motherhood and apple pie. I have enough friends and family who've been through the breastfeeding rounds to know that (despite the assurances that's it's not supposed to hurt) it would be somewhat painful, exhausting and simply hard work. So I entered into it with eyes (or should I say nipples?) wide open and wanting to do it anyway. Breast is best after all. The proof is in the puddin' ... in those plump sweet-cheeked baby puddin's.

My pre-baby breastfeeding notions were that, despite the exhaustion and discomfort, I would do this and breastfeeding would happen the way nature intended. My milk would come in, my babe would get the hang of latching on and together he and I would work out a mutually beneficial mealtime arrangement. What I hadn't expected was that I may not make enough milk for my wee one to eat. Yes, I had heard the stories of people who had those experiences, even of people who didn't make milk at all, I just hadn't expected it to be me.

After two weeks of regular feedings and pumping and topping up with expressed milk at bedtime, my little man went from noshing on one boob to demanding both. No biggie, you want both, you get both little man - you're the boss after all. Yet. despite that increased access and hour-long feedings every two to three hours, little man just did not gain weight. He should have been back to his birth weight around the two-week mark, but two and half weeks in he's still coming up short or perhaps I should say light. In the second week, he only put on a half ounce total when he should have put on about a half ounce to an ounce a day. Mama was calling him her little chicken and then took to calling him her skinny little chicken.

My doctor suggested I supplement feedings with formula to help boost the little man into a Fatty McGee. While I was far from happy about introducing formula, putting some rolls on those chicken legs and making sure little man is healthy was my top priority. So, through many many many tears (emphasis on many), I began a regime of breastfeeding with one breast, topping up with formula and then pumping the other to keep the supply and demand production on the go.

My hope was that this process would put weight on da' babe and more milk in mah boobies, allowing me to transition back to exclusively breastfeeding. Unfortunately this isn't how the whole scene played out. Little man did start to gain weight - almost a pound in one week! - however, mah boobies were milk duds and just weren't making any more milk than they were making our first week home. I drank litres of water, ate well and rested as best I could. I did breast compression, massage and warm compresses. I'd nurse and pump and nurse and pump and then pump some more to stimulate production, but barely get an ounce out at any given time. Though I think I cried pounds of tears. It was a bad scene all around. Once we knew the little guy's weight was back up, I even tried nursing him from both breasts and pumping off what was left, which was barely anything and yet the little man was still ravenous, rooting and wailing for more. More of what I didn't have to give.

Turned out I have a low milk supply meaning my breasts simply did not make enough milk to satiate Hudson's appetite. It was heartbreaking to watch him try and try and try to nurse and become frustrated at my breast when it wasn't enough. It was exhausting for both of us as the whole nurse-supplement-pump regime was taking an hour and a half or more, every two to three hours. The more we tried, the more we both cried. This wasn't working out the way I had envisioned, hoped or wanted.

I talked to the nurses at the breastfeeding clinic. I talked to my doctor. I talked to my husband and my mother. Or perhaps I should say I cried to the nurses, the doctor, my husband and my mother. I needed to know my options. The nurses suggested a drug to enhance milk supply. I did my own research into the drug and found the FDA does not recommend it for this purpose, as the drug is not approved nor intended for that purpose. My doctor also did not recommend that option, unless I insisted upon it. Concerned that my family physician of 10+ years and the FDA are not favouring the drugs and aware of the possible side effects, I decided it wasn't for us.

My remaining options were to either continue the supplementing regime or switch to full formula feeding. As much as I wanted to continue breastfeeding, the supplementing process was also not working for us. Hudson was working much too hard for food from my breast and still ending up hungry. Mama was getting more stressed and exhausted by the hour, which of course is good for neither mom, babe or daddy. I also knew in my heart that, at most, I might get another week or two before my body or baby decided to put an end to it for me.

So, with my husband and my mother supporting me in whatever choice I made, I finally allowed myself to consider full formula feeding. And it was far from easy to make. I sat in my doctor's office and cried to break my heart, listening to her logically explain that it was not "bad" to choose formula, yet still feeling somehow like I was failing. Failing myself, failing my son, failing my family.

Before I had my own babe, I had heard mothers talk about the guilt and anxiety over using formula. At the time, I thought what's the big deal? Both work as nutrition for your child and it is a personal, intimate decision that only parents can make. It's about what's best for your baby and your family, so go with whatever works. Now, as a mother, I understand. More tears have been shed over formula and feeding in the last six weeks  than I could have ever imagined. I wanted to breastfeed. Breast is best. Yet, despite the being physically unable to do so, I feel guilty. Why? I think it's because that's what "they" say we "should" do. It's because we, as expecting mothers, are told we're "supposed" to do. And when you don't or can't, somehow that's become a bad thing. This societal expectation leaves me as a new mother feeling guilty and anxious, it leaves me feeling angry and upset at myself for not being able, it makes me feel like I'm being judged. Right or wrong, that's the way it is.

Even having made the decision to switch to formula after nearly a month of trying to make breastfeeding work when there was little milk to work with, I still well up when I think about it. This is despite having a happy, healthy, satisfied little boy who no longer has to work hard for food or get frustrated trying to eat. This is despite mama being able to actually get some rest throughout day. This is despite being able to spend quality time reading and playing together rather than spending that time stressfully trying to feed. This is despite daddy being able to partake more in the bonding and feeding process. Somehow I still feel bad and guilty about something that is working for our family.

With all my heart and soul, I wish I "Got Milk?" instead of getting "Milk Duds", but I didn't. So, I write this mostly as it is cathartic for me to do so, in the hope that I can reflect on it with reason and logic at some point in the future. I also write this in case it can be shared with some other new mother who can't or chooses not to reach the bar set so high by society knows they are not alone and knows that is is OK.

Mother`s Day

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new. ~Rajneesh

Mama & Hudson on his birth day

This will be my first Mother`s Day as a mom and I am more honoured to be mom to my beautiful son than I could have ever imagined. I also couldn`t have imagined how having my own child would make me appreciate my own mother so much more than I already did.

My mother has always held a special place in my heart and is loved beyond belief - even if I`ve not always shown it (aka the teenage years). My mother raised my sister and I as a single mom for many years and did a darn good amazing job, if I might say so myself. Only as an adult could I appreciate what she must have sacrificed for us over the years. We wanted for nothing, least of all love and kisses and hugs. I always felt special. I always felt I could do and be whatever I wanted. I always knew that no matter what I did, no matter what happened, I could count on my mom. Of all the people in my life, I knew she was the one I could turn to with my successes and my challenges. She was, is, the best mom.

Mom & me, awaiting baby

Now that I have my own son and am a mom myself, I appreciate all that she`s done and all that she does that much more. I wouldn`t have survived the last month as a new mom without her - or at least not made it through with my sanity in tact. From being with me at the hospital while in labour to being here with our new family those first couple of weeks at home to taking me home with her for a few days and letting me get some much-needed sleep to supporting me through the very difficult transition from breast to formula feeding, my mom made becoming a mom easier. As always she sacrificed - her time, her sleep, her vacation days, and her own needs - for me. For that, I love her and thank her with all my heart.

My mom + my son = love at first sight

Mothers are the special people in our lives we can count on no matter what. They are the ones that love us, hold us, teach us, push us, inspire and encourage us to grow and be true to ourselves. They selflessly and willingly change diapers, wipe noses, kissed skinned knees, wash load after load of laundry, eat cold toast and drink cold coffee, mend broken hearts, and play second fiddle to their children.

I now, almost suddenly, find myself willing to do all that, give all that, and more for my son. It is true, with his birth came mine as a mother. For that, I am grateful to God. I am blessed with this new role in life and even more blessed to have my mother`s example to go by. If I am half as wonderful a mother to Hudson as my mom was to me, I`ll have succeeded as a mom.

A favourite photo of mom & me.

I love you mom.

Happy Mother`s Day.

Before & After

'Let sleeping dogs lie' is a well-known expression meaning you shouldn't disturb a situation as it would result in trouble or complication. I think it should officially be changed to 'let sleeping babies lie'.

Seriously. They say you should wake babies to eat every three to four hours, but when they look like this before:

and they look like this after, why?

If this installment of `before & after`doesn't convince the world to change the expression I don't know what would. I, for one, will be letting sleeping babies lie more often from here on out.

Right Now...

Right now, I am:

... in awe of this handsome, healthy, happy boy of mine.

... completely sleep deprived, trying (relatively unsuccessfully thus far) to teach myself how to nap midday.

... craving hot cups of coffee and long hot showers, yet enjoying cuddles and the occasional coo instead.

... adjusting to our new life routine with Hudson - eat, burp, diaper change, sleep (him, not me), rinse and repeat.

... grateful for my mom, who made the transition home and first couple of weeks with little man so much easier.

... adoring and appreciating my handsome husband for his patience, love and support. We were a family of  two and now we're a happy trio.

... reminding myself to be OPEN to this new experience of motherhood, with all its ups and downs, knowing these early days will pass much too quickly and before long be a distant memory in my heart.