So amazingly, I felt virtually no pain immediately after the surgery. They must have pumped me up with a lot of the good stuff prior to my coming to . . . I also managed the pain on ibuprofen at home. It was an interesting day after the surgery - I don't know when the last time was that I had that much time alone. Maybe two years? I watched a lot of movies (the Kiddo was at daycare).
I've had a LOT of people commenting lately on our (at this point, imaginary) second child - strangers commenting that we will be having a girl, etc. (hello, I'm not even pregnant yet!). Most people seem to assume we'll be having another. It took us a long time to come to the conclusion that we wanted to try for a second child. I'm a lot older (I got pregnant three years ago!) and well, becoming pregnant for me has never been the difficult part, staying pregnant is another matter entirely. Did I want to go through that again? The possibility is there. It's looming. I try to tell myself that I will be OK if it doesn't work out, because I am deliriously happy and feel incredibly lucky to have one, yet I know the truth: I will feel completely knocked out if we are unable to have a second child. What will we do then? Adopt? I'm not sure. I remember reading a few seasoned bloggers who had gone through multiple miscarriages, finally had a child, and then went through hell in order to have a second (or in some cases, twins). At that point, without even one, I thought they were being, oh, I don't know, greedy? Crazy? But wanting to have a child is such a normal, natural and biological need. If it doesn't work out . . . well, I don't know. For now, onwards.
As far as daycare goes - I sat there with the Kiddo for about 2 1/2 hours and decided that the daycare wasn't for us. It's a good place, but the Kiddo was the youngest one, there were a lot more kids in the class than I was expecting and it was a tad too Lord of the Flies in there. We may try it again in the fall when he's a tad older and I am, er, he is, a tad tougher (I think ultimately he would be fine - I was another matter altogether).
Post-op appointment on Friday.
Monday, December 06, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Is this Thing On?
Testing, testing, 1-2-3. Why, hello there. I realize that I will be writing into the ether here, but here goes anyway. I have a son, a beautiful, funny, smart, charming redheaded (yes, redheaded!) two year old son. Neither The Husband, nor I, have red hair, by the way.
The Husband and I have been discussing whether or not to have a second child (easier said than done, of course). And so, long story short, we made an appointment with Dr. Superman, he did the old HSG and whamo! I have blocked tubes. I go in for a laparoscopy and hysteroscopy on Monday, almost exactly three years from when I had it done before. I'm taking three days off - and having just re-read my post about it from before I am realizing that three days may be incredibly insufficient. ALSO, my mother was going to come into town for the procedure but she fell in the driveway, on the ice, on Thanksgiving and wound up in the ER. She's currently resting and on a lot of pain medications. No broken bones, thankfully, but she's been advised not to fly (she has a very large hematoma and the risk from blood clots is high) and wouldn't be able to help this invalid as she's pretty much an invalid right now as well. I'm sure she's pretty miserable.
So, anyway, I go in on Monday. And then I get to try to take care of the Kid or take him to daycare or I don't know what. We'll figure it out, I keep telling myself. Also, as an aside, we've decided to change daycare - which has been traumatic for me, to put it mildly. I like where he is (mostly), he loves it, but it's outrageously expensive and we are forced to pay for the summer, when we don't actually need it. The new place won't charge us for the summer, so we'll be saving about $5,000 (it's also a tad cheaper per month). The thing is, though, we'll have to change him to ANOTHER place this fall because the rates at the new place go way up. Let me just say this, I am grateful to have to worry about this kind of stuff at all.
See you on the flip side.
The Husband and I have been discussing whether or not to have a second child (easier said than done, of course). And so, long story short, we made an appointment with Dr. Superman, he did the old HSG and whamo! I have blocked tubes. I go in for a laparoscopy and hysteroscopy on Monday, almost exactly three years from when I had it done before. I'm taking three days off - and having just re-read my post about it from before I am realizing that three days may be incredibly insufficient. ALSO, my mother was going to come into town for the procedure but she fell in the driveway, on the ice, on Thanksgiving and wound up in the ER. She's currently resting and on a lot of pain medications. No broken bones, thankfully, but she's been advised not to fly (she has a very large hematoma and the risk from blood clots is high) and wouldn't be able to help this invalid as she's pretty much an invalid right now as well. I'm sure she's pretty miserable.
So, anyway, I go in on Monday. And then I get to try to take care of the Kid or take him to daycare or I don't know what. We'll figure it out, I keep telling myself. Also, as an aside, we've decided to change daycare - which has been traumatic for me, to put it mildly. I like where he is (mostly), he loves it, but it's outrageously expensive and we are forced to pay for the summer, when we don't actually need it. The new place won't charge us for the summer, so we'll be saving about $5,000 (it's also a tad cheaper per month). The thing is, though, we'll have to change him to ANOTHER place this fall because the rates at the new place go way up. Let me just say this, I am grateful to have to worry about this kind of stuff at all.
See you on the flip side.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
THE BIRTH STORY
My intention was to write the birth story immediately after the Boy was born and start writing over at Out of the Rabbit Hole. That didn't happen.
So, now, uhem, almost ten months later, I'm going to write that birth story (damn it!) with little or no editing so I can just get the thing done (sorry!) and move over to Out of the Rabbit Hole. This is an infertility blog, not a mommy blog. It seems appropriate to shut the shop and move over there.
So, here goes (as best as I can remember):
My due date was early October and my parents made the trek out here and were waiting patiently for the Boy to be born. I was afraid, however, that the Parents would have to leave before his arrival. So, we waited. And continued to wait. It was now almost a week past my due date and, fearing that I may never a) give birth or b) give birth but never again be able to go out in the evening (best guess!) I got discounted tickets to go see The Master Builder. The Husband and I arrived before the Parents - I can't actually remember why. We stepped gingerly around a construction site to get there. We milled about the lobby of the theatre – which was dark and cool, with flickering lights. The Husband and I sat in the back row - thankfully, because I was completely uncomfortable throughout the show - getting up periodically to stretch my legs. Forty some odd years earlier, my mother went to see a play when she was pregnant with my sister, was incredibly uncomfortable, and went into labor that night. Anyway, when we got home, I laid down while the Husband took the dogs out on a late night walk. I heard a POP and had a little bit of pain. It was odd. And weird. I waddled to the bathroom and well, I'll spare you the gory details but I was pretty convinced that my water had broken . . . I cried a little (I was scared!) and then called the doc on call and it was Dr. Arrogant Rude – the doctor I had feared delivering me the most. Perfect! Of course he told me to come in immediately. I told him I would – even though I had no intention of coming in. It was kind of liberating, “Ha! I will not come in! I am having no contractions and you can’t make me! Yes, I know all about the infection risk, etc., etc. I’m waiting. I know all about you and your obsession with the horrible pitocin and your mad desire to induce, induce, induce! I will not be fooled!” So, we waited. Once the sun came up and Dr. Arrogant Rude was likely off his shift, the Husband drove us to the hospital. And well, they sent me home. No evidence of contractions (even though I believed at this point that I was having them) nor was there any evidence that my water had broken. Oh, and the person who sent me on my merry way? A twelve year old physician’s assistant. So, we went home and I continued to feel like I was having contractions. Since we were told that I was in fact, not in labor and not having contractions, I tried to just occupy myself (which at times involved laying down, sitting on my exercise ball or showering) and endure the non-labor-labor pains. Then my sister called and told me the same thing had happened to her and she had the same exact contractions for several weeks and so not to worry, nothing was happening. My sister, the nurse (by the way, over the years, I’ve learned to do the exact opposite of her advice, this time, however, I was vulnerable and listened to her. Wrong!). Anyway, this continued to happen throughout the day and I continued to endure the “non-labor-labor pains”, convinced that if this was not in fact labor, when I was in actual labor, I would likely go blind. So I continued to soldier on. The Husband went to the store. The husband watched TV. The Husband asked what was wrong (whatever this is - it doesn’t feel great!), the Husband helped me onto the exercise ball and counted with me through a contraction. Then the Husband went to bed. I took a shower. I tried to watch TV. I tried to play on the Internet. I couldn’t really do anything and the pain at this point was becoming, uh, painful. In fact, at this point, sitting alone in my house, I convinced myself that since it wasn’t labor pains, I was having severe gas pains. So, I began walking rapidly up and down the hall because I thought that it would get rid of it somehow. Then the pain became nearly unbearable so I called the doc on call. She essentially told me that she couldn’t tell if I was in labor or if it was gas pains unless I came in but that that was up to me (wait, really?). I got off the phone and then took a good look at the spacing of the contractions, which I had been noting, on a small piece of paper. Alarmed, I decided that either I needed to go in so that they could relieve this horrific “gas pain” or I was on the verge of giving birth AT ANY MOMENT because the “contractions” were minutes, as in less than four minutes apart. I screwed up the energy to rouse my husband by yelling at him from the living room. There was no response. Again I called out his name. Nothing. Finally, I yelled as loud as I could and I’ve never seen that man move so fast. We’d been arguing about taking a cab versus him driving (he wanted to cab it) but at this point I just said, “You’re driving” and he said, “Yes.” The drive over was dark and quiet. The pain lessened somewhat (I’ve heard that happens when a little adrenalin takes over). We drove up to the valet and the parking lot attendant was sleeping or too involved in his crossword or iPhone to notice us. The Husband about lost his mind yelling at the guy to get our car. Then, not really thinking, the Husband asked me to carry up some of my stuff, which I quietly did. All I could think about was the fact that I would not be able to tolerate hanging out waiting at triage to be admitted. Luckily they got me right in and asked me to give them a urine sample (I think?) and when I came out, I told the nurse, “I can’t stop peeing.” She tried not to look amused and said, “Perhaps your water just broke?” Apparently my water just broke. Then the doctor came in felt around and asked me if I wanted drugs and I asked how far along I was because frankly, if I was 1 cm dilated then I wanted EVERYTHING thank you very much. “8 cm” he said, then quickly, “And now your 10 cm. You’re having a baby!” WHAT???? I couldn’t believe it. I seriously couldn’t get my head around the fact that I was in labor and I was about to have a baby. There were a few snickers about that fact that everyone hoped that when they were in labor they thought it was just gas pain and then there was a lot of hooting and words of encouragement because everyone was excited that I was going to give birth sans drugs. And then I pushed not knowing what the heck I was doing and then the Boy was born. I’m missing a little bit here: an emergency ped doc attended because they feared meconium aspiration but he was OK and I was not expelling the afterbirth (sorry, again, ugh) and was having a bit of a bleeding issue. Oh, and by the way, why doesn’t anyone tell you how much it hurts afterwards? Yikes. Tearing, stitching, etc. And he was beautiful. And I was completely in shock. Totally, utterly shocked. And I still am. And he still is beautiful and wonderful and amazing.
Thank you so much for reading (although at this point, probably no one is reading anymore). The blogosphere kept me from going completely, utterly, mad during the "Troubles." So, again, thank you and I hope you'll visit me at Out of the Rabbit Hole.
So, now, uhem, almost ten months later, I'm going to write that birth story (damn it!) with little or no editing so I can just get the thing done (sorry!) and move over to Out of the Rabbit Hole. This is an infertility blog, not a mommy blog. It seems appropriate to shut the shop and move over there.
So, here goes (as best as I can remember):
My due date was early October and my parents made the trek out here and were waiting patiently for the Boy to be born. I was afraid, however, that the Parents would have to leave before his arrival. So, we waited. And continued to wait. It was now almost a week past my due date and, fearing that I may never a) give birth or b) give birth but never again be able to go out in the evening (best guess!) I got discounted tickets to go see The Master Builder. The Husband and I arrived before the Parents - I can't actually remember why. We stepped gingerly around a construction site to get there. We milled about the lobby of the theatre – which was dark and cool, with flickering lights. The Husband and I sat in the back row - thankfully, because I was completely uncomfortable throughout the show - getting up periodically to stretch my legs. Forty some odd years earlier, my mother went to see a play when she was pregnant with my sister, was incredibly uncomfortable, and went into labor that night. Anyway, when we got home, I laid down while the Husband took the dogs out on a late night walk. I heard a POP and had a little bit of pain. It was odd. And weird. I waddled to the bathroom and well, I'll spare you the gory details but I was pretty convinced that my water had broken . . . I cried a little (I was scared!) and then called the doc on call and it was Dr. Arrogant Rude – the doctor I had feared delivering me the most. Perfect! Of course he told me to come in immediately. I told him I would – even though I had no intention of coming in. It was kind of liberating, “Ha! I will not come in! I am having no contractions and you can’t make me! Yes, I know all about the infection risk, etc., etc. I’m waiting. I know all about you and your obsession with the horrible pitocin and your mad desire to induce, induce, induce! I will not be fooled!” So, we waited. Once the sun came up and Dr. Arrogant Rude was likely off his shift, the Husband drove us to the hospital. And well, they sent me home. No evidence of contractions (even though I believed at this point that I was having them) nor was there any evidence that my water had broken. Oh, and the person who sent me on my merry way? A twelve year old physician’s assistant. So, we went home and I continued to feel like I was having contractions. Since we were told that I was in fact, not in labor and not having contractions, I tried to just occupy myself (which at times involved laying down, sitting on my exercise ball or showering) and endure the non-labor-labor pains. Then my sister called and told me the same thing had happened to her and she had the same exact contractions for several weeks and so not to worry, nothing was happening. My sister, the nurse (by the way, over the years, I’ve learned to do the exact opposite of her advice, this time, however, I was vulnerable and listened to her. Wrong!). Anyway, this continued to happen throughout the day and I continued to endure the “non-labor-labor pains”, convinced that if this was not in fact labor, when I was in actual labor, I would likely go blind. So I continued to soldier on. The Husband went to the store. The husband watched TV. The Husband asked what was wrong (whatever this is - it doesn’t feel great!), the Husband helped me onto the exercise ball and counted with me through a contraction. Then the Husband went to bed. I took a shower. I tried to watch TV. I tried to play on the Internet. I couldn’t really do anything and the pain at this point was becoming, uh, painful. In fact, at this point, sitting alone in my house, I convinced myself that since it wasn’t labor pains, I was having severe gas pains. So, I began walking rapidly up and down the hall because I thought that it would get rid of it somehow. Then the pain became nearly unbearable so I called the doc on call. She essentially told me that she couldn’t tell if I was in labor or if it was gas pains unless I came in but that that was up to me (wait, really?). I got off the phone and then took a good look at the spacing of the contractions, which I had been noting, on a small piece of paper. Alarmed, I decided that either I needed to go in so that they could relieve this horrific “gas pain” or I was on the verge of giving birth AT ANY MOMENT because the “contractions” were minutes, as in less than four minutes apart. I screwed up the energy to rouse my husband by yelling at him from the living room. There was no response. Again I called out his name. Nothing. Finally, I yelled as loud as I could and I’ve never seen that man move so fast. We’d been arguing about taking a cab versus him driving (he wanted to cab it) but at this point I just said, “You’re driving” and he said, “Yes.” The drive over was dark and quiet. The pain lessened somewhat (I’ve heard that happens when a little adrenalin takes over). We drove up to the valet and the parking lot attendant was sleeping or too involved in his crossword or iPhone to notice us. The Husband about lost his mind yelling at the guy to get our car. Then, not really thinking, the Husband asked me to carry up some of my stuff, which I quietly did. All I could think about was the fact that I would not be able to tolerate hanging out waiting at triage to be admitted. Luckily they got me right in and asked me to give them a urine sample (I think?) and when I came out, I told the nurse, “I can’t stop peeing.” She tried not to look amused and said, “Perhaps your water just broke?” Apparently my water just broke. Then the doctor came in felt around and asked me if I wanted drugs and I asked how far along I was because frankly, if I was 1 cm dilated then I wanted EVERYTHING thank you very much. “8 cm” he said, then quickly, “And now your 10 cm. You’re having a baby!” WHAT???? I couldn’t believe it. I seriously couldn’t get my head around the fact that I was in labor and I was about to have a baby. There were a few snickers about that fact that everyone hoped that when they were in labor they thought it was just gas pain and then there was a lot of hooting and words of encouragement because everyone was excited that I was going to give birth sans drugs. And then I pushed not knowing what the heck I was doing and then the Boy was born. I’m missing a little bit here: an emergency ped doc attended because they feared meconium aspiration but he was OK and I was not expelling the afterbirth (sorry, again, ugh) and was having a bit of a bleeding issue. Oh, and by the way, why doesn’t anyone tell you how much it hurts afterwards? Yikes. Tearing, stitching, etc. And he was beautiful. And I was completely in shock. Totally, utterly shocked. And I still am. And he still is beautiful and wonderful and amazing.
Thank you so much for reading (although at this point, probably no one is reading anymore). The blogosphere kept me from going completely, utterly, mad during the "Troubles." So, again, thank you and I hope you'll visit me at Out of the Rabbit Hole.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Use Your Head, I Say
The husband's folks, sister and nephew were in town. They left, with the exception of the mother, this morning. For us or me, family visits breed chaos - and in the case of the husband's family - I become hugely stressed. There is usually some stupid argument where someone says something I find offensive or I find troubling in some way - and instead of letting it go - we get into a (stupidly) heated argument. I was very good this time - and refrained from "engaging." The mother-in-law is now here for two weeks as our nanny granny. God help us. God help us all.
Today the Husband called because I left half of the breast pump at home (again family visits=chaos) and he was running it over. I assumed he was bringing the Baby. When he got here and no baby, I burst into tears. I'm really mad/sad/hurt. The problem with the Husband is that he can become strangely rigid about many, many things. Like, for example, naps. We've learned that if the Baby doesn't get enough naps he can be a nightmare to put to sleep at night and then wakes up with much more frequency than normal. So, the Husband has become somewhat psychotically rigid about naps -sometimes trying to put the baby to bed when he's clearly not sleepy and then there is a battle of wills where the husband rocks the baby maniacally until he WILL FALL ASLEEP. And it's frankly, annoying (we've also joined ww and he's become fairly psychotic about that as well - even trying to persuade his sister to not have a retirement dinner out for their father and letting him cook at home - it should be noted that his weight loss to date is almost twenty pounds and mine is, um, well, four). However, one little sojourn during the day isn't really enough to do too much damage - especially considering the fact that the Husband takes the Baby out to the Park to see a friend of his at least weekly and sees me once per week as well. I'm really unclear as to why he didn't feel the need to bring the baby - I could have breastfed him, spent time with him, etc. It's better for me and better for the Baby to see me, his mother, upon occasion. As it stands now, I see him for about an hour in the morning and an hour at night. I'm really weepy about this. Sometimes, the Husband is . . . e-x-h-a-l-e.
This is where we went last night to celebrate the Father-in-Laws retirement:
Image via flickr: smaginnis11565
Today the Husband called because I left half of the breast pump at home (again family visits=chaos) and he was running it over. I assumed he was bringing the Baby. When he got here and no baby, I burst into tears. I'm really mad/sad/hurt. The problem with the Husband is that he can become strangely rigid about many, many things. Like, for example, naps. We've learned that if the Baby doesn't get enough naps he can be a nightmare to put to sleep at night and then wakes up with much more frequency than normal. So, the Husband has become somewhat psychotically rigid about naps -sometimes trying to put the baby to bed when he's clearly not sleepy and then there is a battle of wills where the husband rocks the baby maniacally until he WILL FALL ASLEEP. And it's frankly, annoying (we've also joined ww and he's become fairly psychotic about that as well - even trying to persuade his sister to not have a retirement dinner out for their father and letting him cook at home - it should be noted that his weight loss to date is almost twenty pounds and mine is, um, well, four). However, one little sojourn during the day isn't really enough to do too much damage - especially considering the fact that the Husband takes the Baby out to the Park to see a friend of his at least weekly and sees me once per week as well. I'm really unclear as to why he didn't feel the need to bring the baby - I could have breastfed him, spent time with him, etc. It's better for me and better for the Baby to see me, his mother, upon occasion. As it stands now, I see him for about an hour in the morning and an hour at night. I'm really weepy about this. Sometimes, the Husband is . . . e-x-h-a-l-e.
This is where we went last night to celebrate the Father-in-Laws retirement:
Image via flickr: smaginnis11565
Monday, April 13, 2009
New Milestones
The other night, very late, the Bambino awoke and began crying. I then went searching, half-blind, for his pacifier. I knew it was in his co-sleeper somewhere. When I couldn't find it, I was forced to trudge off to the kitchen. When I returned, the Wee One had found his pacifier himself and had it in his mouth. Now, for some people this may not be such a big deal - for me, however, seeing as I had never seen him do this before, it completely cracked me up. He is also now rolling over - which means that I can't just plop him down in our bed anymore - especially when the other night he lay there sleeping, rolled over and landed in the c0-sleeper. He was not pleased. He's now sitting up as well. This is quite a crazy development. Obviously I know that he will meet these milestones at some point - but it's shocking to me each time it happens. Recently I sat with him in our glider, looked up at the Husband and said, "Is this real? Am I really holding our son?" Sometimes, I really just can't believe it.
Thank you to all who voted on my photography project - if only I'd learned about the contest earlier. At any rate, it's a project I've been thinking about for a long, long time. So, thank you.
As I told all my friends on facebook about the project, many of whom did not know about the recurrent miscarriages, a friend of mine e-mailed that she'd like to get together. She also told me that she wanted to meet because she's just had her second miscarriage and she wanted to talk to someone who understands. I can't tell you how much this killed me. It's so upsetting to think about ANYONE having to go through miscarriage, let alone one of your good friends. I'm so glad, however, that because of my "coming out" that I may be able to be there for her. So, perhaps it's a milestone for me as well - I've come out to a bunch of people and nothing horrible happened. It's a hell of a lot easier to do so, however, when you feel as though you are through it and not in the thick of it.
Thank you to all who voted on my photography project - if only I'd learned about the contest earlier. At any rate, it's a project I've been thinking about for a long, long time. So, thank you.
As I told all my friends on facebook about the project, many of whom did not know about the recurrent miscarriages, a friend of mine e-mailed that she'd like to get together. She also told me that she wanted to meet because she's just had her second miscarriage and she wanted to talk to someone who understands. I can't tell you how much this killed me. It's so upsetting to think about ANYONE having to go through miscarriage, let alone one of your good friends. I'm so glad, however, that because of my "coming out" that I may be able to be there for her. So, perhaps it's a milestone for me as well - I've come out to a bunch of people and nothing horrible happened. It's a hell of a lot easier to do so, however, when you feel as though you are through it and not in the thick of it.
Monday, March 30, 2009
New Happenings by the Boy
So, the Boy, a few days ago, awoke from a sound sleep, saw his father sleeping, and said, loudly, "Hey!" in order to rouse his father. I know, I know, he's just over five months old, he couldn't possibly have said, "Hey." But there it is. That's what it sounded like, at any rate.
This morning, I was on the far side of the bed - and we'd just put the Boy on the side of the bed where his co-sleeper is - he rolled all the way from one side to the other and landed, quite snugly, against my side. He seemed fairly amused by the whole thing. I think he's been secretly rolling onto his tummy - despite his obvious dislike for it, for sometime now.
I haven't been checking infertility blogs too much lately - but was thrilled to see that wordgirl is knocked up!
I have been having a good time looking at craft and photography blogs. I'll post some links to some of my favorites soon.
Ah, the Boy. He is scrumptious.
This morning, I was on the far side of the bed - and we'd just put the Boy on the side of the bed where his co-sleeper is - he rolled all the way from one side to the other and landed, quite snugly, against my side. He seemed fairly amused by the whole thing. I think he's been secretly rolling onto his tummy - despite his obvious dislike for it, for sometime now.
I haven't been checking infertility blogs too much lately - but was thrilled to see that wordgirl is knocked up!
I have been having a good time looking at craft and photography blogs. I'll post some links to some of my favorites soon.
Ah, the Boy. He is scrumptious.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Perfect
I remember going out to dinner with my in-laws somewhere downtown, in the middle of a cold winter. My mother-in-law, who was talking about how worried she was about her daughter, announced that she didn't worry about her son, because he was, you know, perfect. Perfect in every way. I couldn't help but to roll my eyes. My husband, as wonderful as he is, is not perfect. And the fact that his mother thinks this is so, is something that I can't help but to find annoying. I really wanted to start listing those things which make her son in fact, not perfect. Which is kind of a strange reaction from one's wife. But I don't believe in perfection. Perfection just doesn't exist. And I think someone who thinks that their son is perfect, is well, not living in reality. Maybe that day or maybe it was another day, she said that I'd understand once I had a child. And perhaps, in a way, I do now. It's not that I believe that my son is perfect - it's that it would pain me greatly for someone else to see flaws in my son. It would really wound me. It's a strange thing. I want to protect him from hurt. And someone thinking he is not perfect, is, well, or would be, hurtful, I suppose. So, in a way, I understand now. Which is annoying because I sure as hell don't want to agree with my mother-in-law. I also understand that the term perfection, in this context, means that he is happy, that he is well, that all is right. And he seems to be - he is great and happy and thriving. He is our greatest reward. I cannot believe how lucky I am. After all this time, after all this want, I finally get to be around this wonderful, wonderful boy.
And since I am most definitely not perfect, I am going to attempt to write that letter to my son, the one that I thought I'd do every month and I've managed once:
Dear son:
You are now five months old! You now wiggle around and flip over from your tummy to your back. We think you learned this because you hate to be on your tummy. However, you are starting to tolerate it for a little longer now. You squeal with delight when Daddy tickles you or says something funny and you laugh politely at Mommy's jokes. You and Mommy fall asleep together most evenings and Daddy has to try about fifty times to wake up Mommy so they can eat dinner. You are adorable when you sleep. You have also started grunting when you are dissatisfied or unhappy about something. You grunt in a most displeased way until we pick you up from whatever terrible predicament you have found yourself, such as sitting in your bouncy seat for too long or laying on that boring old play mat. We love that you are so assertive! You used to love to stand rod straight on your legs - however, now you like to make your legs like jelly and bounce up and down. You are really paying attention to your surroundings now, too. Today you put your hand in Mommy's hair and took a long, curious look at it through your fingers. You do love to talk and you have a wonderful voice. You have a lot to say! We love listening to you.
We love you very, very much.
--Mommy
And since I am most definitely not perfect, I am going to attempt to write that letter to my son, the one that I thought I'd do every month and I've managed once:
Dear son:
You are now five months old! You now wiggle around and flip over from your tummy to your back. We think you learned this because you hate to be on your tummy. However, you are starting to tolerate it for a little longer now. You squeal with delight when Daddy tickles you or says something funny and you laugh politely at Mommy's jokes. You and Mommy fall asleep together most evenings and Daddy has to try about fifty times to wake up Mommy so they can eat dinner. You are adorable when you sleep. You have also started grunting when you are dissatisfied or unhappy about something. You grunt in a most displeased way until we pick you up from whatever terrible predicament you have found yourself, such as sitting in your bouncy seat for too long or laying on that boring old play mat. We love that you are so assertive! You used to love to stand rod straight on your legs - however, now you like to make your legs like jelly and bounce up and down. You are really paying attention to your surroundings now, too. Today you put your hand in Mommy's hair and took a long, curious look at it through your fingers. You do love to talk and you have a wonderful voice. You have a lot to say! We love listening to you.
We love you very, very much.
--Mommy
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Happy Valentine's Day
I am now taking Wednesdays off. It's fantastic. I am so glad to have done this. Next issue? Nipple confusion. We're trying to work through it. Stupid bottles.
Onto other news - our beautiful boy rolled over on Friday. We are so incredibly thrilled. And because we're his parents, of course we think our kid is incredibly brilliant and obviously very advanced. I posted about it on our baby blog. Then a friend of ours, whose baby is just about two weeks younger than ours, commented on our blog that their baby rolled over on the same day. The same day? How can this be possible? Should this annoy me? No. Should I find this incredibly irritating? No. But I do. I really, really do. It was this special thing that our kid did and now it's just not. Kind of rained on our parade, so to speak. So now I've decided she rolled over earlier than our baby because she spends all of her time on the floor, being neglected. This is of course, totally untrue but it makes me feel better. Gah. Parenthood and all its petty splendor.
Happy Valentine's Day.
Onto other news - our beautiful boy rolled over on Friday. We are so incredibly thrilled. And because we're his parents, of course we think our kid is incredibly brilliant and obviously very advanced. I posted about it on our baby blog. Then a friend of ours, whose baby is just about two weeks younger than ours, commented on our blog that their baby rolled over on the same day. The same day? How can this be possible? Should this annoy me? No. Should I find this incredibly irritating? No. But I do. I really, really do. It was this special thing that our kid did and now it's just not. Kind of rained on our parade, so to speak. So now I've decided she rolled over earlier than our baby because she spends all of her time on the floor, being neglected. This is of course, totally untrue but it makes me feel better. Gah. Parenthood and all its petty splendor.
Happy Valentine's Day.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
14 Weeks
I spent fourteen weeks home with the bambino. I'm back at work this week and spent most of last week crying thinking about returning. It's been a rough morning. When I try to talk to the Husband about going back home for three more months or at least going part-time he's incredibly resistant. I don't really understand why. He says things like, "We can't afford it" or "What will that do to your career." It's amazing, because I couldn't care less either way. I never thought I would feel that way - but what's more important than the well-being of my kid? And I'm not talking about taking off six years - that would be a serious financial burden - I'm talking about three more months. Three more little months. And we have savings. And we'd have to do things like not get take out quite so much but that's really hardly a sacrifice. Of course, I have know idea how my boss would react and that does concern me but again, in ten years, will I really care what these people think? I'm trying to continue to breastfeed and its incredibly hard. I don't really have a proper ending here because I have to run out and try to scrounge together some items I neglected to bring with me for the breastfeeding extravaganza . . . but mainly, I just really wish I had had the OVARIES to tell my boss and the Husband that I needed to take off three more months. The Husband is home with him and I think that may be the real reason for the resistance - he hates his job and loathes the idea of going back. However, I don't see why he would have to go back - he's on paternity leave earning an income - why does he have to go back? How lucky would our kid be to have two parents home for three months? Sigh. I know the reality is that I am too scared to ask my boss (even though I'm allowed seven months off under the FMLA) so I'll just continue to come to work, continue to be miserable, continue to feed my kid compromised breastmilk (apparently frozen isn't as good as fresh), continue to feel like this is a mistake.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
This is a HAT
That's about all the creativity I could muster for a title. It's on backwards. The hat, that is. I just wrote a whole blog about how annoyed I am with my mother-in-law because I now have to watch exactly what I write on the Baby's blog (created in order to send photos of the Baby to the Fam) lest I offend her. However, I don't want to upset the Husband, since it is his mother, and now I am a mother, of a son, no less, but let's just say that it gets exhausting having to write and re-write posts because you fear you may offend said Mother-in-Law by saying, for example, that a hat she made is on backwards, because, you know, that means she did something wrong with the hat and she's a terrible person and her hat is just awful, etc. It's exhausting. Sigh.
But hey, on another note, I, miss-does-not-cook, made pad thai this evening. Seriously. And I did the dishes! And I went out and got coffee (they were closed). But still! I left the apartment! This is no joke, people!
P.S. I should probably mention here that I actually do love the hat - it took a lot of love and time.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
The New Year
About an hour ago, with the lights low, I held my son close to me, trying to rock him to sleep. He was looking up at me and I felt his warm little head and thought about how our time together, just he and I, will soon be ending. In less than a month, I will be back at work, full-time.
When I initially planned this out - three and a half months seemed like a very long time. I felt lucky - 3 1/2 months! As difficult as it was at first, I never realized how fast it would go, or how I would feel about returning to work. I love my job. But I feel like there is more important work to be done - raising my son. I'm afraid of what I will miss - will I be there to see his first steps? His first word? I ache thinking about not having him near.
A year ago tomorrow, I was running through Central Park at midnight. The air was cold and the sky was dark as pitch but the people around me were chattering excitedly, bouncing around to keep warm and wearing crazy costumes. As we set off, fireworks shot out just above us. I didn't run fast. I was still recovering from multiple failed pregnancies, infertility drugs, surgery. But it was truly a glorious run - I cried a little as I thought about the past three years and all we'd been through. Yet, I was feeling relieved and excited about what was coming. Although my doctor and the Husband were trying to convince me to try one more time, I had come to terms with the idea that in order for us to be parents, we would be adopting. It was a relief. No longer would I be dealing with infertility, I could stop researching, consulting, worrying. I could stop having procedure after procedure that always led to the same conclusion, "we just don't know, not for sure." I would never again have to hear, "there's no heartbeat." I would be becoming a mother, we would finally be parents, sometime soon.
How full of wonder I am about this years past. This time, as I run around my favorite park, my son, (my son!), will be sleeping soundly in the Husband's arms as they wait for me at home.
Perhaps now I will be a little less skeptical, a little more forgiving, when people discuss miracles. I can't help but think that I have been touched by one.
My hope is that you had an incredible year - and if not, that 2009 will be full of wonder, hope and dreams fulfilled.
Happy New Year.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Letter to My Son
(Better late than never!)
Baby--
You are one month old today. Mommy and Daddy are still in awe that you are here. Mommy has held you and looked at you and cried - she can't believe how lucky she is. And Daddy, too. Mommy and Daddy are so happy that you are finally here.
On the day you were born, Grandpa J and Nana were in town. They had been waiting for days and days for you to be born but you just weren't coming! Mommy was worried that Grandpa J and Nana would have to go back home before getting to meet you. But you waited exactly one week to be born from your due date and Grandpa J and Nana were still in town. Mommy and Daddy and Grandpa J and Nana went to see a play, the Master Builder, on Thursday night and things started happening that night! Mommy cried a little because she was scared and wanted to make sure that you were alright. Mommy labored all day on Friday but it wasn't too bad until the evening. Then Mommy yelled at Daddy to get up and take her to the hospital and Mommy has never seen Daddy move so fast! Once we got to the hospital, the doctor said, "Let's go have a baby!" Daddy was so excited he started jumping around the room! Mommy was surprised, she couldn't believe it was really happening! She was lucky to have Daddy there and a great nurse who helped. You were born pretty fast! Mommy didn't get to see you at first for a long time because they had to make sure you were OK - but Daddy was with you the whole time. That was very scary for Mommy.
Grandma J and Auntie M jumped in the car and drove from Ohio to meet you. They were very excited. Grandma J, Auntie M, Grandpa J and Nana got to meet you on the day you were born! Grandma J told your Auntie M to stop hogging you and to let her hold you, too.
Mommy wanted you to always be in the room with her at the hospital. The first time you fell asleep on Mommy's chest was one of the best moments in her life. It was very, very late and the hospital was very quiet. You had been crying in your bassinet and Mommy picked you up and held you close until you fell asleep. It was the best.
When Mommy and Daddy took you home they were very excited. Mommy dressed you in an outfit that was a little too big and Daddy thought you looked like you were wearing a fencing outfit. Then Daddy drove us all home very slowly. When we got home your two doggies, Ben and Momo were very surprised and curious to meet you. Daddy brought home something of yours earlier so they could get a little familiar with you. Even though Mommy and Daddy were very tired, we spent a lot of time staring at you. You were just perfect.
Even though it's only been a month, you've grown and changed a lot.
You smile and coo whenever you are first put down on the changing table. You don't particularly like to be changed - but once you are, you are back to smiling. You make the best noises.
You have found your hands and sometimes you suck on your fingers. Oftentimes you put the side of your hand in your mouth, or your pinky. Once when you were breastfeeding, you also had your finger in your mouth! Sometimes when Mommy looks down at you, you have your hands clasped together, sometimes resting under your chin. Mommy and Daddy remember seeing your hands always near your face in the sonograms, too.
You have already braved the New York City subway and gone to the Museum of Modern Art. You slept almost the entire time. There was a Miro show and a very crowded Van Gogh show. Your cousin R was there along with your Grandma J, Grandpa D and Nana. Mommy fed you for a little while just inside the museum. Nana played with cousin R so that Grandma J could see the Miro show because Nana saw it with Grandpa J when they were waiting for you to be born. Grandma J said that the Miro show gave her great inspiration for her own paintings.
You also recently had your first real bath. You didn't like it at all. Daddy bathed you while Mommy and Grandpa D watched and took pictures. You found it very undignified and maybe a little scary. Daddy was sure to bathe you fast so that you could get back into your warm clothes.
You love your sling - it hugs you close to Mommy or Daddy and makes you feel warm and safe. You usually fall asleep in the sling. Sometimes, when you are crying, Mommy puts you in the sling and walks you up and down the stairs. Most of the time, you will then fall asleep. Sometimes you don't like to sleep at night. You may cry a lot or seem perfectly content to look around and see what's going on, even when it's 4 AM.
You have already grown out of your undershirts. You are growing fast. Mommy and Daddy can't believe it!
Daddy likes to put you in fancy outfits but mostly he just wants you to wear the Justice League shirt. Daddy would probably like to have about 15 Justice League shirts for you. We've discussed the possibility that you may not be as big of a Justice League fan as Daddy is - but Daddy doesn't believe it. But Mommy and Daddy know that you will have likes and dislikes that we never anticipated.
Mommy and Daddy love you very much! Happy One Month! We're so very lucky that you are here!
Baby--
You are one month old today. Mommy and Daddy are still in awe that you are here. Mommy has held you and looked at you and cried - she can't believe how lucky she is. And Daddy, too. Mommy and Daddy are so happy that you are finally here.
On the day you were born, Grandpa J and Nana were in town. They had been waiting for days and days for you to be born but you just weren't coming! Mommy was worried that Grandpa J and Nana would have to go back home before getting to meet you. But you waited exactly one week to be born from your due date and Grandpa J and Nana were still in town. Mommy and Daddy and Grandpa J and Nana went to see a play, the Master Builder, on Thursday night and things started happening that night! Mommy cried a little because she was scared and wanted to make sure that you were alright. Mommy labored all day on Friday but it wasn't too bad until the evening. Then Mommy yelled at Daddy to get up and take her to the hospital and Mommy has never seen Daddy move so fast! Once we got to the hospital, the doctor said, "Let's go have a baby!" Daddy was so excited he started jumping around the room! Mommy was surprised, she couldn't believe it was really happening! She was lucky to have Daddy there and a great nurse who helped. You were born pretty fast! Mommy didn't get to see you at first for a long time because they had to make sure you were OK - but Daddy was with you the whole time. That was very scary for Mommy.
Grandma J and Auntie M jumped in the car and drove from Ohio to meet you. They were very excited. Grandma J, Auntie M, Grandpa J and Nana got to meet you on the day you were born! Grandma J told your Auntie M to stop hogging you and to let her hold you, too.
Mommy wanted you to always be in the room with her at the hospital. The first time you fell asleep on Mommy's chest was one of the best moments in her life. It was very, very late and the hospital was very quiet. You had been crying in your bassinet and Mommy picked you up and held you close until you fell asleep. It was the best.
When Mommy and Daddy took you home they were very excited. Mommy dressed you in an outfit that was a little too big and Daddy thought you looked like you were wearing a fencing outfit. Then Daddy drove us all home very slowly. When we got home your two doggies, Ben and Momo were very surprised and curious to meet you. Daddy brought home something of yours earlier so they could get a little familiar with you. Even though Mommy and Daddy were very tired, we spent a lot of time staring at you. You were just perfect.
Even though it's only been a month, you've grown and changed a lot.
You smile and coo whenever you are first put down on the changing table. You don't particularly like to be changed - but once you are, you are back to smiling. You make the best noises.
You have found your hands and sometimes you suck on your fingers. Oftentimes you put the side of your hand in your mouth, or your pinky. Once when you were breastfeeding, you also had your finger in your mouth! Sometimes when Mommy looks down at you, you have your hands clasped together, sometimes resting under your chin. Mommy and Daddy remember seeing your hands always near your face in the sonograms, too.
You have already braved the New York City subway and gone to the Museum of Modern Art. You slept almost the entire time. There was a Miro show and a very crowded Van Gogh show. Your cousin R was there along with your Grandma J, Grandpa D and Nana. Mommy fed you for a little while just inside the museum. Nana played with cousin R so that Grandma J could see the Miro show because Nana saw it with Grandpa J when they were waiting for you to be born. Grandma J said that the Miro show gave her great inspiration for her own paintings.
You also recently had your first real bath. You didn't like it at all. Daddy bathed you while Mommy and Grandpa D watched and took pictures. You found it very undignified and maybe a little scary. Daddy was sure to bathe you fast so that you could get back into your warm clothes.
You love your sling - it hugs you close to Mommy or Daddy and makes you feel warm and safe. You usually fall asleep in the sling. Sometimes, when you are crying, Mommy puts you in the sling and walks you up and down the stairs. Most of the time, you will then fall asleep. Sometimes you don't like to sleep at night. You may cry a lot or seem perfectly content to look around and see what's going on, even when it's 4 AM.
You have already grown out of your undershirts. You are growing fast. Mommy and Daddy can't believe it!
Daddy likes to put you in fancy outfits but mostly he just wants you to wear the Justice League shirt. Daddy would probably like to have about 15 Justice League shirts for you. We've discussed the possibility that you may not be as big of a Justice League fan as Daddy is - but Daddy doesn't believe it. But Mommy and Daddy know that you will have likes and dislikes that we never anticipated.
Mommy and Daddy love you very much! Happy One Month! We're so very lucky that you are here!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Don't You Need a License for this?
I've finally figured out why everyone in the known universe (that would be, Santa, the elves, the lady on the airplane, the flight attendants, the barista, the check out guy, etc., etc., etc.) thought that MY SON was my sister's kid and not mine, because I look like the biggest incompetent who couldn't possibly be this child's mother. There is my sister, with three thousand different baby items slung around her, popping this open and that, sliding that thingamajig there all while swigging some coffee or eating lunch, while effortlessly holding the baby on her hip while I sat staring wide eyed off in the corner. The woman has four kids. And apparently, that makes a difference. Wouldn't you think people would think that the lady who looks sleep deprived and confused would be the mother? Nope, nope, not at all. Which is why, while on the plane, even though I was falling asleep, and even though I took the Baby out of the front carrier, and even though my sister asked if I wanted to let her hold him, I refused, and then promptly let him slip off of me and into the side of the plane. Someday, I'm sure he'll forgive me.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Random stuff
It's been far too long since I've posted. I continuously write, then save it, then never publish it. Since the Baby is asleep right now (scrunched up in his sling) this will have to be fast. Here are some thoughts, quickly jotted out, to myself:
1) Never expect your in-laws, or anyone, for that matter to help with the baby. They may not. Mine didn't. We were so looking forward to some naps or some time alone while in Ohio for Thanksgiving. Or something. Didn't happen. No offers. Nothing.
2) Try not to get angry when said in-laws have a party with 35 people and your baby gets sick six days later. Maybe not related - but still . . .
3) Realize that you just can't clean. Ever. It just doesn't happen. Take a damn nap.
4) Running with the the baby jogger (FINALLY) is exciting and also . . . weird. Try not to worry that the baby is getting brain damage each time you go over a bump. Try to realize that your stomach hurts like the dickens because it was stretched into another time zone for quite awhile.
5) Try to get out. Sometimes. Really. Seriously.
6) Put some pants on, brush your teeth. Your husband will thank you.
7) Bathe the baby more than once a decade. Even though he hates it.
8) Thank Zeus for the internet - without it, no one would have a gift, nor would anyone communicate with you, since you abhor the phone.
9) Sending out the birth announcements two months late is OK. Seriously. I mean, you are taking care of a new baby, and the announcement is awesome. So, it's worth the wait.
10) Try to appreciate every day. Every sleepless, sleepless day. It goes fast. He won't want to cuddle with you forever, you know.
OK - all for now. Sister coming from Seattle to stay for a few days (to help! She's going to hang with the Baby while the Husband and I go out. To dinner! To a movie! ALONE!). Must make some attempt at picking up or she won't be able to find her bed, aka, the couch.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
And Another Thing
I have yet to pump - managed to sterilize the pump first (and my mother, who was in town also washed the parts that they tell you NOT to wash - she didn't believe me, apparently). So, a question - the pump comes with containers. Do you pump into said containers, store, and then put a nipple on THOSE containers or do you transfer the milk from the containers to bottles with nipples once it is needed? I recognize that this may be a really silly question and the answer is obvious - but we're running on practically no sleep here people.
Signed -
Confused.
Signed -
Confused.
Future Blackmail
I've probably started fifty different entries that I have yet to complete. So, instead, I'm attaching a photo - one that my son will be horrified by someday (and we'll be sure to whip out when he brings home a date).
Monday, November 17, 2008
My Beautiful Son
How anyone manages to take a shower, let alone post anything with a new baby is beyond me. How am I doing it? Both my mother AND the Husband are nearby. So, although I read a lot of books about pregnancy and eventually read about the birth process, I neglected to look at the actual CARE of a newborn. And although one can go crazy reading all those childcare books that give conflicting advice, at least I may have been more prepared for, say, breastfeeding. It never occurred to me that I would need to breastfeed TWENTY-FOUR HOURS A DAY. Just didn't get it. Nope. Didn't. So, now that that is firmly established . . . WOW. Twenty-four hours a day. Every day. EVERY DAY. Will try to start pumping this week - but am totally intimidated by it - it's a scary looking machine. Also, although it will be fantastic to actually be able to go out and leave the Baby with the Husband or another relative, it makes me a little sad, too.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
The Marathon
Occasionally I worked for a sports photography company - shooting races in and around NYC. I did it mainly for fun - but the extra money was also nice. However, there were a lot of headaches that went along with it. For example, I could spend hours, unpaid, editing the photos, burning them to disk and sending them to the company. I dropped everything several times to shoot for them when they were in a bind, was taken off shoots when they had too many shooters without complaint, shot later than other photographers and even continued shooting after a runner accidentally hit me in the face, giving me a black eye, all with no thanks from them. Every year I shoot the marathon for them. The marathon is on November 2nd. I agreed to do it because I really thought the Baby would be around three weeks, and once I wasn't pregnant any more, everything would be a piece of cake. Not to mention that I really enjoy shooting it. However, when I realized that the race was THIS weekend and I was still having pain issues, not sleeping through the night, taking care of a newborn, figuring out the whole breastfeeding thing, I decided that it would be too difficult. The Husband has been asking me not to do it for weeks. The day starts early and ends late - I've shot it before with no breaks at all. I really don't know how I would manage without being able to rest or pump. The thing is, it's very difficult for me to admit that I may not be able to do something - it makes me feel terrible. So, it was with a lot of thought that I decided to tell them, at the last minute, granted, that I would not be able to do it after all. They did not react well. They e-mailed me that they will NEVER hire me again. I feel terrible. However, the Husband has pointed out repeatedly how little they care about their photographers and have not exactly treated us well over the years. But they are running a business and if they can't rely on me to actually be present at a shoot, why hire me again? I feel terrible about it - the last thing I want to do is have a bad relationship with a former employer. By the way, as a contract employee, the Family Medical Leave Act doesn't apply - but this type of situation is exactly why it was enacted in the first place. Sigh. The thing is, the Baby and my own health has to be the priority - in the end it just wasn't worth it to me to kill myself like that and to potentially disrupt breastfeeding (the whole nipple confusion controversy not withstanding - but also whether or not I could handle not pumping for 8-10 hours). Ugh.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Colic Anyone?
col·ic (kŏl'ĭk) Pronunciation Key
n.
1. Severe abdominal pain caused by spasm, obstruction, or distention of any of the hollow viscera, such as the intestines.
2. A condition of unknown cause seen in infants less than three months old, marked by periods of inconsolable crying lasting for hours at a time for at least three weeks.
It may not truly be colic but nights have been difficult. The Baby begins crying (screaming really), generally around 9 PM and is not easily consoled. Generally, however, he'll quiet down eventually (usually with a pacifier which is apparently a controversial move if you are breastfeeding). Last night, however, he began crying around 8 PM, and excluding a period from 3 AM to 6 AM he continued screaming all night long into this morning, It didn't end until now at NOON. I'm at my wits end. I've read from What to Expect, Your Baby & Child and attempted the techniques from the Baby Whisperer, i.e., the Happiest Baby on the Block, all to no avail. There's nothing like seeing your baby scream uncontrollably to make you feel completely inadequate as a parent. We change him, feed him, swaddle him, hold him, walk with him, sing to him, talk to him, change the scenery, try the sling, the bouncy seat, the swing, the car seat and nothing works. I did think that it might be gas - and have a call out to my doc to find out if there is anything over the counter that we can use - but really, that's just a stab in the dark. And to think, a few days ago we were patting ourselves on the back wondering why everyone said that caring for a newborn was so difficult. Ha ha ha.
n.
1. Severe abdominal pain caused by spasm, obstruction, or distention of any of the hollow viscera, such as the intestines.
2. A condition of unknown cause seen in infants less than three months old, marked by periods of inconsolable crying lasting for hours at a time for at least three weeks.
It may not truly be colic but nights have been difficult. The Baby begins crying (screaming really), generally around 9 PM and is not easily consoled. Generally, however, he'll quiet down eventually (usually with a pacifier which is apparently a controversial move if you are breastfeeding). Last night, however, he began crying around 8 PM, and excluding a period from 3 AM to 6 AM he continued screaming all night long into this morning, It didn't end until now at NOON. I'm at my wits end. I've read from What to Expect, Your Baby & Child and attempted the techniques from the Baby Whisperer, i.e., the Happiest Baby on the Block, all to no avail. There's nothing like seeing your baby scream uncontrollably to make you feel completely inadequate as a parent. We change him, feed him, swaddle him, hold him, walk with him, sing to him, talk to him, change the scenery, try the sling, the bouncy seat, the swing, the car seat and nothing works. I did think that it might be gas - and have a call out to my doc to find out if there is anything over the counter that we can use - but really, that's just a stab in the dark. And to think, a few days ago we were patting ourselves on the back wondering why everyone said that caring for a newborn was so difficult. Ha ha ha.
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