The resolution of another whiny post

I wouldn't normally bother to post an update about an already verbose and whiny post about the 'awfulness' of having my MIL offer to babysit, except that we had such a lovely evening. In the end I stomped my foot and my in-laws arrived early to see the baby and our dinner was moved 2 hours later, so that I could bring along TS.

It was worth it. My angelic baby did not cry once in a 3-plus hour meal in a small, candlelight restaurant. She fell asleep on the walk there in her Moby, woke after 2 hours to have a small snack under the table (one benefit of having such, well, um ... large ... curves is that I really can feed her under the table), slept again, woke up and smiled at the people sitting around us who oohed and aahed at our well-behaved baby, and then promptly fell asleep in the Bjorn (worn by JD, he finds it much more 'masculine' than the Moby) on the way home. And of course there was a light snow falling during our five-minute walk home. Quite a perfect evening.

Please, please send your love

The unthinkable has happened to Rachel (of Just What I Always Wanted). Her daughter, Sarah Abigail, arrived early and passed away today after only a week. Rachel is a fellow traveler who even braved IVF abroad in a foreign-language and was incredibly kind to me when I was alone and scared in Europe. Please send her your love.

Sweet or passive agressive?

But first, cute:

I woke up yesterday night with another nightmare about airplane crashes (don't worry, I love to fly and will continue to do so) and as I was lying there the baby yelped in her sleep. Which woke JD out of his sleep. He startled and told me he'd been having the worst nightmare, and I was the culprit. When I innocently asked what I'd done (remember this is 4-something am and I'm a bit tired) he sighs and says "You were just about to make an illegal left turn." It's good that one of us is getting a good night's sleep.*

Now the dilemma: As you might recall last Friday afternoon JD called to say his parents were at that very moment on their way in to the city to visit us (nothing like less than 2 hours notice to clean up when you have a clingy, hungry baby and also want to go to services, eh?). I asked twice when they were coming to visit this weekend and was told it was too cold and they wouldn't be coming. And then tonight JD tells me that they've decided to come tomorrow evening so that we can 'leave the baby at home' when we go out to dinner.

(First, are you impressed, we have a double date for dinner?) But we're going out to an early dinner with friends who live in the neighborhood and love kids (She keeps complaining about having to wait until she can quit her job to have a baby. Life's awful, awful tough for some people). The whole thing was designed to bring the baby with us.

And here's the thing: I just don't want to leave her. Yes, I will leave her with our nanny when I need to work, although I mostly work at home. But I see that as a necessity for keeping up with my job. Since she is still exclusively breastfeed, I know that she will be hungry and either screaming or have cried herself into an exhausted sleep when I get home. And then I will get a lecture for my MIL about how much better formula is, or at least pumping and exclusively using bottles (why anyone would put themselves through that unnecessarily I don't know. My MIL has no idea how pumping works and seems to think that in under 5 minutes once a day I can simply pump enough for the baby, just like a nice dairy cow. And breastfeeding is going well for us now). Yes, we could start EBM bottles but I'm not ready, and both the LC and pediatrician recommended waiting until we need to because of her slow start eating (and now, reflux) and anyway I want JD to give TS her first bottle.

One of the few parts of the Sears 'Baby Book' which I really agreed with is that I feel guilty/anxious when I leave her unnecessarily. And this dinner date was designed to be baby-friendly. But, my in-laws have plans tomorrow morning and afternoon, so the only time they can come see the baby is during our dinner date. So either I have to insist to JD that we cancel our dinner date, or tell my in-laws they can't see the baby till next weekend (when my father will be visiting, making it crazy again). Or get over it and leave the baby home with them, and feign gratitude for them offering to babysit (without even consulting me). And of course, I can't be too snippy because I would love it if they offer to babysit in the future when I can leave them bottles and come home to a happy baby after a night out.

Sometimes I think how much easier it would be if I could talk to my MIL on the phone (her English is quite good, but she has a lot of trouble over the phone). I hate putting JD in the middle to translate my obsessions, and he of course feels torn because his parents enjoy seeing TS so much and I'm sure he'd rather go out for a couple of hours without her. So, stomp my foot and tell my in-laws they can't see the baby or have a less enjoyable, rushed dinner out and return home to an unhappy baby?

* When I mentioned to JD that I was posting about his dream, he clarified that there was 'oncoming traffic' so it was a really dangerous illegal left.

The good and the bad on the coldest day of the year

The good news: TS is gaining weight well. She's now 9.5 lbs. That also means that she now fits her bum.ge.nius diapers, which I love (I do not recommend the dappi ones which we have been using up till now. They leak).

Also good: We went out on the coldest day of the year and neither of us got frostbite! I put TS in a warm outfit in her Moby sling with my maternity coat over it. She was quite toasty. And I was mistaken for pregnant and offered a seat on the subway, but oh well.

The bad news: Definitely caught the reflux. She has started screaming during feeds. That explains the projectile vomit and new fussiness. Hopefully it won't get bad enough that we need to medicate her - for now we're trying new breastfeeding positions, more time upright, and pacifiers (JD will be so excited about the pacifiers - he's been lobbying for them for weeks). Although in truth, I'm not sure if there are downsides to the meds for reflux. All wisdom/advice appreciated on this topic, and I will of course consult Drs. Google soon.

The brilliant: I went to a breastfeeding workshop today (in part to meet people - it was sadly under-attended* because of the weather) and realized on my way out that it was only a few blocks from one of the best bakeries in NYC. Brilliant.**

* To be precise, I was the only person there for the first hour. And then a woman showed up with her toddler. Far be it from me to normal discuss the state of another woman's breasts, but this woman had apparently had several consultations with other people to diagnosis the 'sores' on her breasts. The LC took one look, looked at said active (and adorable) toddler and diagnosed the saddest of all sources: bite marks. Please, TS, no teeth for a long, long time.

** And yes, this is to admit that my freezer stash is getting a bit depleted. In retrospect, cupcakes do not freeze that well. Chocolate chip pumpkin bread does, as does chocolate cheesecake. And red velvet cake freezes rather well too.

Yeah, that was my flight

Not much else to say. I took that flight many, many times last year enroute to City X (almost all US Air flights require you to transfer in Charlotte or Philly). I'm snuggling my baby close and listening to the radio.

Hints from the subconscious

I did not make it to bed yesterday night. Another night on the couch. In part because TS was spitting up and fussy, in part because I was pissed at JD. (I know, I know, so mature to escape to the couch with baby in tow ...)

I have been having wild dreams since TS was born. I'm sure it's because I'm being woken from deep sleep repeatedly. My first dream last night was about visiting a pregnant friend I haven't seen since my wedding. In the second dream I went to class (with TS in tow, of course) and one of my most together colleagues was like 'What are you doing here? You don't have any support here. Get out of here' and suddenly I was pulling up google maps and orbitz and figuring out how long it would take to drive to DC and how much a plane ticket to Cali would cost (in my dream DC and Boston were conveniently next to each other - it made planning much easier). And part of me thinks I should do just that. Yes, I have a ton of work to do but I'm home alone today from 8 am to probably 11 pm. There's no way I'm going to get enough work done. And I do have another 2 weeks till I really have to be back.

I don't think it's JD's fault that we're snapping at each other. It's just that I'm tired when he gets home and TS is tired and I want a break but JD hasn't had enough time with TS to know how to keep her happy (she really is an easy baby when you're paying attention to her. Multitasking, not so much) and yesterday night I snapped because he was rocking her in bed and she was crying and I just wanted quiet. But really, in my defense, I just wanted one hour of deep sleep before I took over for the night.

And before the tiff, JD suggested we make plans for the weekend so we could have some real, adult conversation. Which sounded fabulous until the little wheels in my head started turning and I realized we'd have to ask his friends to go out to dinner/brunch with us because I don't have friends in the city who are up for going out with a baby (not that it limits us much at this point at all. No loud bars. Otherwise, she's totally portable and I have no qualms about taking her out to a nice restaurant since she tends to sleep the entire time we're out and I would certainly escape if she threw a fit). No wonder I'm feeling a bit isolated.

The Birth Story

I can't believe I'm also four weeks postpartum. I am going to write the birth story for myself and also because I have always enjoyed reading other people's birth stories. But please feel free to skip this - in the big picture my daughter's birth was quite uneventful. There were of course a few surprising parts: I thought my water had broken in the morning (it hadn't), I wasn't sure if I was having any contractions (I was), I rang up $900 worth of diagnostic tests before being admitted to the hospital (whoops), and as ever my body refused to follow general protocol and my contractions did not follow any particular pattern ...

On Monday I went in for acupuncture for labor induction, then spent the full day at school (home at 8/9 pm). In retrospect, I wonder if I might have known something was going on because it was that evening that I called my husband and told him in no uncertain terms that I was going to need more pampering at the end of my pregnancy and would he please bring me sour cream and onion potato chips (which he luckily delivered with roses).

I woke up at 5 am on Tuesday morning to pee and when I went to the bathroom I realized that I was starting to drip fluid. I was pretty sure my water had broken and I panicked because I didn't have any contractions. I woke JD up and he very sleepily reminded me to 'get some rest' and 'go back to bed' because 'first labors average 24 hours.' But I really couldn't sleep and I didn't feel well lying down, so I spent the next 2 hours sitting on the couch reading blogs (thank you to all you frequent blog-posters) and rocking back and forth. It really felt like I had pulled a back muscle and there was some pain, but no pattern and nothing as clear as a contraction.

At 7 am I called my midwife (actually not the one who had followed me during the pregnancy but someone covering for her) who assured me my water hadn't broken if I was just dripping a bit, and told me to relax and stay at home as long as possible. The plan was to labor at home for at least 12 hours and then go to the hospital, especially in case there were any complications which would require me to deliver in the regular L and D and thus abstain from food (I really couldn't even imagine being in labor for 24 hours without eating). I told her that sounded reasonable, but I just thought I should check that it was fine to skip my NST, biophysical profile, and GD check-up that morning. I was completely not thrilled when she told me to go in to the hospital for my regular appointments. She told me it was a good idea to have all the regular tests done because of my GD, and that would allow me to labor at home longer. So I woke JD up, told him there was no way I was going in alone, and we hopped in a cab downtown. Since I fully expected to be home by noon and spend the day at home, I brought only a school book with me to keep me busy in the waiting room.

The cab ride took about 20 minutes in the morning traffic, and the back pain was getting worse so I made JD give me a massage. The cab driver told us about his wife's deliveries and offered to flag down a cop car to speed up our travel. I was feeling plenty well enough to converse politely with him about his children and to assure him that I was just going in for a check-up and then home until 'my real labor started.'

In the hospital elevator, I bumped into my midwife. She basically tried to duck and avoid us but the elevator just wasn't that crowded. I asked if she could just check me and send me home, but she admonished me to go to my appointments. I also introduced JD to her.

As expected, the waiting room at the hospital was packed. The receptionist kept telling me to 'sit down' and I kept snapping at her that I felt better standing. And the poor 12 and 20-week pregnant women in for their NT and anatomy scans who stared at me rocking in the corner against the wall and snapping at the receptionist that I 'wasn't in labor but didn't feel well and would really like to get out of there.' I really hope they didn't head into their appointments thinking that the 3rd trimester might consist of such continuous discomfort.

The ultrasound was a challenge because my back pain was much worse lying down and they had to do a full biophysical profile. They also estimated the baby's size at 6 lbs, a good pound lower than the previous week's scan and smaller than expected. The very old doctor (cane in hand) who read the ultrasound told me in no uncertain terms that I needed to go to L and D to be triaged in case I was in labor. I stood my ground and refused to step foot near L and D (the goal was to deliver in a birthing center in the same hospital) and told him to page my midwife and fight it out with her. He paged her and then sent me off for the NST.

The midwife huffed into the NST room about a half hour later (there were 3 other women in the same room) and huffed and puffed a bit about the ultrasound doctor not knowing how slow first labors were and paging her out of a meeting, but agreed to check me under the circumstances ... which is how I landed up lying on my back on the stretcher used to transport emergencies from the NST room down the hall to L and D ... in front of a huge window with a fabulous view of another office building and no shade on it in a room with three other women ... when my midwife accidentally broke my water while checking how dilated I was. And gave me the incredibly fabulous news that I was already at 5 cm and should walk across the hall (literally less than 20 feet from the NST room) and be admitted immediately.

Of course, since I had only a book with me JD was immediately dispatched home to get our hospital bag, including my pre-registration for the hospital and permission slip to use the birthing center despite being high-risk. The midwife returned to her meeting, our doula was a full hour away, and the hospital nurse decided to ignore me since I didn't have my 'permission slip' to be there yet, so I spent the first hour in the hospital completely alone wandering around the room and having another 20 minutes of continuous monitoring as per hospital protocol (even though I had just finished a NST which is the same as continuous monitoring). And it was then and there that I realized that this must be the elusive and much maligned back labor.

JD, the doula and the midwife all arrived at the birthing center by about 11:30 am and I spent the next 2-3 hours wandering the halls, napping and sitting on a birth ball. My contractions apparently had no regular pattern and did not appear to be getting more intense. Our doula was fabulous, as was JD. I basically wanted counter-pressure on my back continuously, but otherwise nothing much helped with the pain except avoiding lying down. Despite the lack of patterns in the contractions, when I was checked at 2 pm I was at 8/9 cm and allowed to hop in the jacuzzi. I have to admit it was a bit odd to be sitting fully nude in a jacuzzi with an audience of four (the three mentioned above plus the hospital nurse) sitting around the bathtub on birthing balls watching me. But oh well, such is the weirdness of labor.

I got out of the jacuzzi to pee and realized I didn't want to deal with climbing back in, so I wandered the halls a bit during transition. The midwife was a bit concerned that my contractions were not very strong so she asked me to lie down for a bit (which sometimes makes them stronger, apparently) which was very painful. I am sure she was also trying to get the baby to turn, but nobody mentioned 'back labor' once until I was through with the delivery. I got through that by negotiating that I would stay on my side for 10 minutes on each side, and no longer.

When JD and I realized that the labor was going much, much faster than expected he bet me that we couldn't beat his superwoman (marathon-running-while-pregnant) friend who was in labor for 12 hours. And it looked like we stood a chance until I got to the pushing part. Because I still had back labor and had pulled a muscle in my leg (in addition to sciatica pain) I could no longer tell when the contractions were starting and I spent about an hour trying to push rather haphazardly, largely during breaks in the contractions. When the midwife and doula finally figured that out, they started telling me when to push which helped tremendously.

The one thing which was exactly as described in our birthing class was the moment that TS came out. She just tumbled out, and was immediately set on my stomach; I think I was in a good deal of shock that I was done with labor. JD had stated in no uncertain terms that he would not cut the cord, so the midwife offered -me- the scizzors. I was completely taken aback, but logically refused to participate, so she cut the cord herself. TS was covered in vernix, rather slippery, and very alert. She also had a large red birthmark on her forehead (I'll admit - I actually wondered why with all my screening no one had warned me about this), a birthmark on the back of her head, a dark blue Mongolian spot on her but, and a distinct conehead after 3 hours of pushing. She was totally adorable and very snuggly from the start. I had a few stitches and a little pit, and started working on breastfeeding. The fabulous thing about being in a birthing center was that the baby was never removed from the room - she was weighed and measured next to me, her one state-mandated shot was given while she was latched on, and we declined to have her bathed.

JD, who was fabulous the entire delivery, broke down completely after TS was out and the midwife and doula had to take him out of the room.

And after a couple of hours of snuggling, we set a swaddled TS safely down into her bassinet so we could go to sleep, where she started to scream immediately. And that was the end of her sleeping alone - the room had a queen-sized bed, and TS, JD and I all snuggled into it and went to sleep. I, of course, woke up every 2 hours to snack and failing to wake JD at 6:55 am (the hospital cafeteria did not open till 7 am) I had to personally sneak out of the locked ward (for the baby's safety obviously) and take myself to the cafeteria where I purchased OJ and chocolate cake for breakfast at 7:01 am (don't worry - I sent JD back for more breakfast when he got up).

TS was born around 6 pm, and we were discharged around noon the next day and home in time to order the sushi lunch special delivery. In all, 13 hours of back labor was not nearly as bad as expected and I was quite proud in retrospect to realize that I never even asked for pain meds while in labor. Of course, least you think that I am bragging, I will fully admit to asking for ibuprofen when the baby latched on. Since I had not felt any contractions in my belly during labor, feeling my uterus contract while she sucked was super-painful and I was way too tired to cope. Which also makes me deeply relieved that my labor was so quick, and more than a bit terrified that if the baby had not been facing the wrong way it could have been much, much quicker.