All I'm Saying there's a joke in here somewhere

It looks like Freya is (almost) officially a "colicky baby." I say almost because we're going back to the pediatrician tomorrow to find out whether the medication they gave her for a scratched cornea has made a difference in her mood.

She cried non-stop for the last four days. Any time she was awake and not feeding, she has been crying inconsolably. Thank God she sleeps most of the night with just little feeding breaks here and there. Yesterday it got to the point where I was able to get her to lie down with me for a nap, but while she slept, I just sat there with tears running down my face. It is so horrible when you think there could be something wrong with your baby, and you have no idea what to do to fix it. You exhaust every tip in the baby books, and nothing works. I broke down and called the pediatrician's office, though I knew she was eating well and having most of the requisite BM's that the books said would be indicators of a problem.

As I mentioned, the only thing they could find wrong with her is a scratched cornea, which we are treating with ointment. The good news is that she continues to gain about a half-ounce of weight per day, which is wonderful. The bad news is that she just cries. And cries. And then she cries some more.

I can handle this. Just knowing that she's been checked by a doctor and her heart, lungs (oh yes, the lungs!) and digestive system seem to be working okay is a huge comfort and makes me feel like I can handle the long haul until the 3-month mark, which is when colic usually just disappears.

However, as my sister-in-law the mental health counselor told my husband, this is one of those "trigger moments" where the post-partum depression can take hold of the mommy. I can see that. I'm trying to do everything right for both Freya and I, but lord, it is hard. To me, motherhood means giving 150% of yourself and your effort, all the time. All I have to do is hold out until she reaches a lower maintenance time of her life. It does happen--there are highs and lows. I just need to keep going, find things to do outside the house, ask for help when I need it.

Every time I look at her, I know why I'll keep going. She's so perfect and wonderful, even when she is screaming her small head off.

It's amazing to me how I can think up things to blog about during the day, and when I finally get a few minutes to sit down in front of the computer, they're nowhere to be found.

I'm starting to feel like I might make a return to productive citizen-ry: we discovered how well the baby swing works today, and both Matt and I were able to log in to our respective computers and actually get some job-related stuff done. I've got a telework agreement in place, so I can supplement my sick leave balance by doing a few hours of work here and there. It felt really good to just check my e-mail and respond to a few small items. I've heard that post-partum depression can set in when you feel like you're "only" a mother, and the life that you had before delivery is entirely supplanted by your new role. I can believe it, because it gave me a sense of accomplishment and hope, and reminded me that I am an individual as well as a mother. Who knew you could get all that from a couple of hours on the network? Hooray!

A couple of phrases recently heard around our household that I am certain have not been said within these walls before:

"Have you seen my nipple butter?"

"It can't have corn in it. She's breast-fed."

In other news, she did great at the pediatrician's. She's at 8 lb. 4 oz., but that's good because the hospital didn't tell us that she'd dropped weight down to 7 lbs. 11 oz. by the time we checked out. She's also gained 3/4 of an inch in length! Stats are all good, and she didn't end up getting any shots today. I guess that isn't until the 2 month appointment after all.

Soccer mom days, here I come. I have totally overscheduled us for tomorrow. We have a photography session at 9:00 a.m. It was free--some kind of special portrait thing with a "master photographer" via our pediatrician's office. I know it will be just the first step in Freya's big modeling career and subsequent college fund (ha).

Immediately after that, we have the first office visit with the pediatrician. She'll get her first shots (I think), which is why the visit is after the photo shoot. I'm guessing she'll scream her small head off for the rest of the day, if the horror stories about vaccinations are all true. However, I am so excited to hear about her weight gain. She was 8 lbs. 5 oz. when she was born, and with all the feeding I've been giving her, I am certain she's come back up from the birth weight loss and then some. In fact, she has dimples on her hands where her knuckles should be. She's so chubby and yummy!

So how the heck does a breast-feeding mom and baby manage a morning schedule like that? How do you make sure she's fed, presentable to the world, feed yourself and make yourself presentable, and still get out the door in a timely manner? I guess it is going to be good practice for when I go back to work the first part of April, huh?

"When mom isn't eating, I'm a sleepy little angel!"

This is what it sort of looks like when I eat nowadays:

Freya has an uncanny knack for knowing when I am trying to ingest something, as that is when she really tunes up the caterwaul and starts to wail. Doesn't seem to matter if she was sound asleep as the food approached my lips or not--she knows when it arrives at its destination. I have tried explaining to her that if she wants to eat, it is necessary for the Milk Production Unit to feed as well, but she's a little too young to master the concept, I think.

Oddly enough, as I type this, she is sitting on my lap wiggling, but not making much of a squawk. No food nearby, I guess...

As per requests from earlier, I'll tell you about how our doula helped us through the whole pregnancy experience, including labor.

For a little background, a doula basically serves in a coach/team player role for the expecting couple. You can find more information at Dona.org.

I decided that I wanted a doula around week 15 of the pregnancy. I don't have someone in a mother or a sister role to have helped me through the delivery, and all my close girlfriends either have no children or didn't have a normal, vaginal delivery. However, I strongly felt the need for a familiar, experienced female presence as I labored and delivered--something a doula is well able to provide.

Jennifer was the first doula I interviewed, and actually was the only one, since I instantly felt comfortable around her and felt like her experiences as both a doula and a mother of two were appropriate for our situation. In additin to being a doula, she is also a registered massage therapist, and specializes in prenatal massage. (You can't put enough value on that when you're me.) Our first official visit with her was at 28 weeks, and she helped us sort of formalize our thoughts about what kind of labor and delivery experience we wanted, and helped us create our birth plan. At our 32 week visit, she taught Matt relaxation and massage techniques that would be helpful during the latter part of the pregnancy and during labor. At the 36 week visit, she reviewed post-partum issues with us and went over our birth plan again to help us get prepared for the upcoming event.

On the day I went into labor, I called Jennifer as we were headed to the hospital the first time (the time they sent me home from). It put her kind of on notice that that was the day. Around 3:00 that afternoon, she came over and started helping me labor. She helped me find various positions to labor in, including sitting on my birth ball, standing supported by Matt, and essentially just guided me into different poses in order to help labor progress. She also kept Matt calm and cool by giving him some specific tasks to do that really helped me with the pain management--guiding my breathing, holding a warm rice sack to my sacrum to ease the pain, etc. She then helped us decide it was time to go back to the hospital and be admitted.

Once I was assigned a delivery room, Jennifer continued to guide me (with the help of a wonderful L&D nurse) through positions to progress labor. They say that using a doula helps reduce the amount of time in labor by 20%, and I would believe it because I put my trust in her and I really did progress very quickly. Had Freya not had her head cocked to one side and therefore wasn't able to fully clear my cervix, she would have come after only about 6 hours of hard labor. (Instead of the 16 before I asked for the epidural.)

Once Freya was born, Jennifer took pictures with our digital camera, and took them out to the waiting room where my very nervous and excited father and friends were standing by. She had been giving Dad regular updates throughout the night, which allowed Matt to stay by my side and provide me with the emotional support I needed. She was with us for a couple of hours after delivery, coaching me through our first breast-feeding session.

Since delivery, she's been available as a lactation consultant, and came over for an extra visit on Friday night when we were having latching on issues. She just came by yesterday with a beef and squash stew and cornbread, and presented us with the timeline of Freya's birth, which she had been tending to throughout the delivery experience. It is so great to have that, as I had forgotten much of the actual process of labor, having just been so focused on breathing and making effective progress. I would not have realized a lot of the details had she not done that for us.

In summary, I would say having a doula was a vital part of our labor and delivery experience. She kept both Matt and I from being afraid of what was about to happen, and from the actual delivery. She gave Matt the support he needed to understand what was going on with my body, and showed him ways that he could help, rather than just holding my hand and saying, "I know how you feel," when he obviously didn't. In fact, I didn't get scared, angry, upset or nervous at any point. It was incredibly steadying for both he and I. In fact, on our way to the hospital for the second time, Matt said, "Hiring Jennifer was the smartest thing you ever did."

That may be a little bit of a stretch (I married him, after all), but it certainly would be in the top ten.

That's what I tell Matt when I leave him with the baby to come upstairs and spend an hour on the computer. Ha. Sucker.

Sorry to leave you all for days without posting. I've heard this period of time post-delivery at home called, "the Baby Moon," similar to a honeymoon. There's some of that blissed-out feeling, certainly, but I also am spending a lot of time sacked out on the couch. In fact, I think I watched four hours of Olympic curling yesterday and I still am no closer to understanding what the hell that event is about than I ever was.

Freya is thriving, still feeding really well, and I'm recuperating so quickly that it amazes me. The human body's ability to get past trauma is just astonishing. Little Miss has been off and on with the sleeping--last night all she wanted to do was eat and sleep, and I ended up getting a solid 8 hours of sleep in a 10 hour bedtime period. The night before though...holy cow. She was awake and pissed off for four hours, and would not stop feeding. Right boob, left boob, right boob, left boob, ad nauseum.

Oh! She lost her umbilicus this morning. There's a milestone for you!

Here's the little critter that's been hanging bat-like from my ribs for the last several months--doesn't look much like a bat, thank god...

We're doing pretty well. She's feeding like a champ, I'm getting used to being a dairy production facility, and last night was much easier than the night before. May all continue to go so well, right?

Hi, gang! Casey here. Just a quick entry to let you all know that Freya Marie joined us on Tuesday morning, February 7. She is absolutely gorgeous, weighed 8 lbs. 5 oz and is 20 inches long, and has a full head of dark hair and blue eyes.

It was a long labor--24 hours, 16 of which I did without medication. Word of advice: take the freaking epidural. It helped so much! I'm doing pretty okay but am really sore. I'm up and around though, which is nice.

Thanks for all the well wishes. I hear Baby Barracuda hollering for more vittles, so I need to run. Will post more and some photos when I get another chance.

I went down to the local beauty college for a pedicure this morning. It's an inexpensive place to go, especially good if you are willing to lower your expectations about the quality of a job you may or may not receive. I have a "regular" pedicure girl down there, who I know is worth the $15 I put into it.

As I was waiting in the lobby, I overheard a woman caterwauling to the beauty college manager about the dye job and cut she'd received the day before. I actually thought her hair looked pretty good and that her face was the bigger problem, but she didn't seem to see it that way. She was going on and on about how she hadn't slept at all the night before because she was so upset about how her hair had turned out and that it was so dry, yadda yadda. So I was mentioning this to Amber, my pedicure girl, and she said the woman had been in there all day the day before. Her hair had been dyed coal black for years, and she wanted the dye lifted and to switch to a brunette shade with auburn highlights. So for those of you who didn't spend years hanging around your friend's mother's hair parlor, that's a major process. You have to strip out all the black dye with peroxide, which really dries up the hair. (Hence the dry feeling, que?) Then you go back over it with the brunette color, then over it one more time with the highlights. And because the whole peroxide issue is sketchy to begin with because the dye won't always lift out evenly, your resulting color may be clumpy. Anyway, making a long story slightly less long, here is the moral: if you want a high-end hairdo, don't go to a freaking beauty college. What the hell was this woman thinking? Idiot...

Then I had my pedicure, which was great. Partway through, a woman came in and started getting a pedi in the chair next to me. I looked over at the polish colors she had selected and realized she was getting a French pedicure (for you men who are still with me, that means a solid color, usually pink, over the pink part of the nail, then another color, usually white, at the tip of the nail). She had chosen black and gold. "Steelers fan?" I asked. "HELL YES!" she replied.

I love the beauty college. It's like going to the county fair, but without the beer.

I'm not sure any first-time preggo wants to hear her OB speak the words, "That is a biiiiig baby," as she is having her fundus measured. Yes, the doctor is guessing Freya is in the 9 lb. range at this point. I do believe that officially qualifies as a "lunker."

I blame Matt's genetics. He and his siblings had an average weight of 10 lbs. at birth. Me, I was a petite 7 lbs. 6 oz. She'd better at least end up with my even teeth, don't you think?

Due to her size and my mental (in)capabilities, we've scheduled an induction for next Thursday, February 9. We really hope that she comes on her own, as we know inductions have their own set of issues and can be more painful and result in more medical interventions like episiotomies, forceps use and epidurals. But...I gotta know there is an end in sight. I'm a plan person.

So. A week from today. Zowie, eh? Crap, I better set the Tivo to catch "Survivor," huh?

Updated to note: I am evidently not the winner of the due date baby race. Sweety took first place with a boy, Timothy Joshua, on January 31. As near as I can tell from her blog comments, Mrs. Mogul delivered sometime in the last 24 hours or so, but that's just from a brief post by her husband in the comments of her latest entry. Who's next? E, I've got my eye on you. We're neck-in-neck, sister!

In honor of being at my due date, I thought I'd post an especially intimate belly shot. In fact, Matt says I should probably charge admission for the privilege.

Because it is an oddly disturbing image, I have set it in the extended entry. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Continue reading "It Didn't Pop Out"