Life with a baby

Why I haven’t written in so long

Posted on by amberhj

You know Nervous Nelly and Debbie Downer. But have you met Anxious Amber?

I’ve found that anxiety is a worthy and conniving foe. We’ve battled it out for years and so far, it hasn’t defeated me. But, as is required for proper tension in any comic book or superhero flick, it does get the best of me temporarily and puts into question my ability to keep the upper hand. Perhaps the worst incident occurred during my senior year of high school (pretty much a living hell), when, after being verbally attacked by a fellow member of the softball team, I collapsed at the bottom of a stairwell and literally could not move my strangely numb, curled-up fern frond arms for a good hour. That has happened–without loss of arm function but with complete loss of my head–numerous times since Stella’s birth, most notably during her now legendary, but thankfully resolved, feeding aversion. This past Sunday, anxiety dealt me a huge blow and it took two days to catch my breath. In an extreme bout of panic and lingering postpartum depression I projectile vomited despair in every direction, not as actual puke but in the form of desperate phone calls and/or emails t0 Dooce (yes, I emailed a celebrity blogger who doesn’t know me from a speck of dust on her fancy “#26”-engraved computer monitor), a member of my PEPS group, my sister, my mom, and my therapist. At the time, I thought I was going to break. My recurring thought was, “I can’t do this anymore.”

What caused this latest attack? I have been pondering this question and, amazingly, reached a conclusion, which I rarely do, preferring instead to roll around in indecision and agonizing in-between-ness. First off, I don’t take care of myself. I drink less water than is required to keep a cactus alive, I stay up too late, and I eat about half as much as I should and most of what I do eat is chocolate and coffee. I rarely take the supplements that I invested $250 in, thereby dismissing the solid hour that I spent with an insightful nutritionist in order to come up with a way of out feeling so crappy.

That lack of self-care puts me on shaky ground. I’m not nearly as stable and healthy as I should be, and perhaps because I’m not on solid ground, I still worry about Stella too much. Or maybe because I worry about Stella so much, I don’t take care of myself. Either way, it has to stop. Afterall, Stella is thriving to such a fabulous degree that I cry when I think about it.

The thing is, I’m an incredibly determined and persistent person. This helped me get Stella off of her feeding tube–I mean, no other outcome besides “Stella, with no tube, eating happily on her own” was acceptable (I told her doctor this) and I literally would have cut off my arms off if helpful. But there’s a dark flip side. When I don’t have anything to worry about, I find something to worry about, damn it! I recently realized/admitted that when I don’t have anything tangible to obsess about, I swear, there is an uncomfortable void. So in my spare time, I’ll read a book or website that plants problematic mental seeds. Voila! Worry and a sick sense of order are restored. Stella had a small mark above her lip this weekend. I convinced myself that it was a cold sore that I caused by kissing her, and that I had doomed Stella to a life of humiliation due to constant cold sore outbreaks. The mark was gone on Monday, and was clearly not a cold sore at all. More likely a little nick from her razor-sharp finger nails which I don’t cut enough because Stella. Never. Stops. Moving. I don’t even get cold sores. Nope. But my worry was hungry, and I fed it.

I believe I am addicted to anxiety. I’m so used to it that I can’t function without it. Granted, I function poorly with it, and it’s really no way to live, but I simply don’t know how to live without it at this point. And that is what I need to work on and move past.

I find that it helps to have other people around. A healthy distraction, a necessary part of a balanced life. We don’t have family in the area, except for one fabulous cousin, so that doesn’t help matters. I have kept a possible move back east (I’m from the Boston area) on the table, and we continue to consider it, though the economy seems to get in the way. I know that moving wouldn’t solve my problems, but it might help create some much needed breathing room and comfort.

At the end of the anxiety-ridden, dehydrated, unshowered day, I have to ask myself, “Why?” Why don’t I take care of myself? The answer is probably very simple, and sad. Though I must say, most new moms go through this and in that way, I’m pretty normal. I realize that. But I think that in my case, it’s a bit extreme–the lack of self-regard and eating and whatnot. On some level, the simple truth is that I believe I am not worthy of care. I don’t deserve it. I’m awkward and “less-than” and disorganized and crazy and, for lack of a less cheese-tastic cliche of a term, unlovable. Yet, amazingly and immediately, when I look these hidden beliefs in the face, when I pull them into the light and dust them off, they start to fall apart pretty quickly. They’re old and worn out and need to be tossed out like the garbage they are (as do the entire contents of our basement). I am a really, really great mother. I care about Stella, and all babies and people, really, so much that sometimes it’s hard to bear. I am practically Gandhi! (Yes, I know I sound ridiculous but I do care a lot.) But if given the proper balance, that sensitivity is a powerful and good quality. I am a warrior and I can do any-f’ing-thing I want. I can help myself and others, with great success. I’ve proven it time and time again. Now it’s just time to pick myself up (again) and do it.

Steps in a new direction

Posted on by amberhj

I am so into recycling that I am making Stella wear my old overalls.

I am so into recycling that I am making Stella wear my old overalls.

I haven’t posted in so long because I’m lazy. But also, I needed to take a break and discover a new direction. So, this blog will probably change, and soon. But all the helpful resources pertaining to feeding issues will remain, and I hope that they continue to help and comfort people.

The thing is, Stella’s bottles are no longer thickened. She is off both of her reflux medications, the Ranitidine (Zantac) discontinued two or three weeks ago with no issues. And she eats plenty. All the mental and physical energy that went into feeding Stella, and worrying about feeding Stella, needs to go elsewhere now. I’ve been a bit stuck as a result, but figuring it out, slowly.

I’m working on an article for AOL. I’m doing a small writing project for one of my past employers. I joined a book club. I’m cooking more. I’ve planned a little family vacation for August. We are finding a new rhythm. Speaking of which…

Stella earned her “early walker” status last week. She will be eleven months old tomorrow, and I saw her take her first steps on her ten-month birthday. Though Cody shrugged when  I told him that, because he’d seen it before. Why he didn’t mention that humungous event is beyond me. Best guess is that he felt guilty over having witnessed it with out me. In any case, she is now literally off and running.

I took her to University Village yesterday, and instead of walking past the astr0turf-clad, todder-friendly playground, which previously had all the relevance of a space shuttle launch pad, we stopped, went in, and Stella proceeded to waddle-jog around, exploring all the ground-level gadgets and approaching everyone with aplomb. At one point, two toddlers (clearly playground vets at 18-24 months old) were standing alongside the lowest tier of the series of platforms that lead to the top of the slide. Stella jaunted up to the step, brushing between them and gently nudging them aside. With a wide stance and an even wider smile, she placed both hands on the platform, and turned to smile at each of them before cheerfully smacking the platform twice. They then did the same. It was as if she has bellied up to the bar and ordered a round for everyone. “This one’s on me, gang!”

Speaking of another round, it’s time for my second glass of wine. In my own personal experience, it’s one of the few upsides of formula-feeding, and I’ll take it.

P.S. Whoever says formula-feeding is convenient and time-saving is HIGH!

My deal with an adorable devil

Posted on by amberhj

As usual, I don’t know where to begin. Over the past two weeks, I have experienced the low of crying while lying sprawled on the floor with a string of snot connecting my nose to the carpet to the high of many truly perfect moments with a happy, big-bellied Stella smiling in the sun.

We went through two weeks of teething hell during which Stella ate a lot less than usual and lost a half a pound in one week. At first, I wasn’t worried at all, because I knew it was due to teething and I knew that her occupational therapist had said that Stella has no feeding issues anymore. I knew it would pass and that she would rebound. I was extremely proud of myself. But then she was throwing up and refusing some of her bottles. So,  in totally predictable fashion, just as I started to worry like a crazy person again, she ate way, way, way more than usual. And that is when we went to Minnesota and had an amazingly good time thanks to fabulous weather, a beautiful 18-acre estate, which seemed like a meticulously kept, expansive public garden/park with a house in the middle, Stella’s healthy appetite, and her adoring grandparents. Oh, and this is big: We stopped thickening Stella’s bottles yesterday, and so far, it’s going pretty well–though we may need to make an adjustment as the #3 nipple seems too slow, even with faster, unthickened formula. Stella doesn’t do “slow.”

So, it appears that Stella has made a deal with us. She’ll eat anything you put in front of her (provided she likes it–and she likes a lot of things), without complaint. Entire avocados. Pieces torn from our grilled steak, crusted from the spice rub. Full pieces of whole grain bread smeared with extra virgin olive oil. Yogurt blended with fresh mango. Millet/brown rice/lentil super porridge pureed with papaya, flax oil and brewer’s yeast. Savory baked tofu by the truckload.  However. She’ll throw over-the-top fits any other time she pleases. I was happy with this arrangement until I tried to change her diaper, at which point she screamed bloody murder and attempted to leap headfirst from the changing table.

Okay, I’m still happy with the arrangement. I’m just wondering how to deal with the emerging tantrums. Like the one she threw on the grass alongside the wading pool at Green Lake this afternoon. She hollered at the top of her lungs and wound up in a headstand position–pretty much dangling by her ankles, anyway–as I put on her diaper. Then we went home and had lunch, and she barked at me while pointing at the toast I was tearing up for her. Apparently, the service is too slow. I’ll work on that, Stella. A deal’s a deal.

*Overly dramatic sigh*

Posted on by amberhj

I should be blogging often as Stella is giving me tons of Grade A writing material. She took her first steps last week and is getting four new teeth (all at once). But I’m feeling pretty depressed lately, so every time I go to write, I quickly tire and say to myself, “Why bother?” It’s horrible to think that I don’t have the energy or enthusiasm to write about my precious Stella lately. It’s not for a lack of love, that’s for sure.

The truth is, I weaned myself off of my antidepressants about three months ago. Stella was better, eating happily and no longer tube fed, so I thought I was in the clear. Now I am thinking that it was premature to go off the meds. I am down in the dumps much of the time.

I don’t know exactly why I am feeling so sad, but I hope to rebound soon. Even with all of that heaviness on my shoulders, Stella makes me smile and laugh often. Not that she actually has to do anything to lift my spirits. The mere sight of her is a mood enhancer. Her cuteness forces me to say, at least a dozen times a day while hugging her tightly, “I love my munchkin!”

So, I need to devise a plan for feeling better. If only laziness and Facebook weren’t getting in the way…

The truth about moms

Posted on by amberhj

On message boards across the web you can find, far too easily, cringe-inducing posts by moms skewering each other’s parenting styles and choices–battles over breastfeeding versus formula-feeding and catfights about co-sleeping and cribs, and that’s just the tip of the judgemental iceberg. This sad reality is partly why, even though it was necessary to ensure Stella’s wellbeing, the switch to hypoallergenic formula was so difficult.

I’ve thought a lot about all the guilt and shaming and I think that what it really boils down to is that today, there is no one clear way to raise a child. Somehow, with a constant flood of opinions, experts, and information, there are more questions than answers. Nothing is clear cut. We’re all so worried about making the “right choices” for our children that we cling tightly to our way of doing things, and they come to define us. It’s as if we are trying to convince ourselves, not just others, of their correctness. Defensiveness and insecurity can be the only explanation.

However. What I’ve learned through my experiences with this blog is that none of that matters. Not one bit. I’ve heard from mothers across the country and around the world–moms in Singapore, New Zealand, Ireland and Texas whose babies refuse to eat. We all do the same desperate things, ask the same questions, and think the same thoughts. Our feelings, stories and longings are not just similar, but identical. The fact that some of our babies enjoy breastmilk and some formula, and that some sleep nestled under our arms while others are tucked into lovingly adorned cribs, makes no difference whatsoever. These women span a diverse range of nationalities, but you’d never know it.

As I think about Hatice, Rocio, Erin and all of other moms who’ve contacted me, I am overcome with emotion. Not just because I’ve been where they are and know how gut-wrenching their struggles are. Not just because I know how terrifying it is to insert an NG tube, how the tape turns their scrumptious little cheek into a red, raw mess that seems to symbolize disfunction, and how an aversion comes to suffocate every other aspect of life. No. Really, my heart aches and expands when I think about them because they love their babies so very, very much–literally to the point of madness, sometimes. They would do anything at all, gladly handing over their own wellbeing and comfort, to ensure that their babies are happy and healthy. It’s that simple.

The truth about moms is that we are all incredibly alike, when it comes to what actually matters.

Me and Stella, all cozy and matchy matchy.

Me and Stella, all cozy and matchy matchy.

Well nourished

Posted on by amberhj

Super Stella can eat a pancake in a single bite (practically).

Super Stella can eat a pancake in a single bite (practically).

Sometimes I worry (shocking, I know) that Stella and I don’t venture out often enough for grand adventures. You know, to the Woodland Park Zoo or Pike Place Market. But then I turn on the vacuum or open the refrigerator door, and she goes absolutely bonkers with joy and excitement, and suddenly I’m certain in the knowledge that she gets her share of thrills right here at home.

The fridge is by far her favorite destination at the moment. She’s developed a particular fondness for a large bottle of light dijon dressing. If there happens to be some Cava chilling in there (which is often the case), she’ll  make a beeline right toward it, and I’ll smile and think to myself that we are incredibly alike.

Food and drink remain a big focus of our days. But a shift is underway–a very healthy shift in thinking and eating. Stella is eating plenty of food via bottle, spoon and finger. I think–I really, really think–that she has finally convinced us to chill the F out. Really. This is big, and it’s about time. I mean, on how many occasions has she rebounded from eating “less than usual” to eating “more than usual”? Tons. How many bottles has she drained? Countless. How many Cheerios and pieces of tofu has she stuffed in her mouth? So many that her grocery bill is starting to rival mine and that is really saying something, people.

I purchased a horribly edited but very helpful and well intentioned book called Super Baby Food by Ruth Yaron. The purple tome has helped me change Stella’s diet for the better (and by “better” I mean healthier and fresher). The book is frustrating on one hand, because it confusingly cross-references itself to the point of eye-crossing ,book-hurling annoyance, but it’s also empowering in that, by patiently plugging through key parts of the book, I’ve established a real plan for giving Stella a complete, incredibly nutritious, age-appropriate diet. Until recently, I really felt like I was just winging it. I had the feeling I could do better. Also, Stella has enjoyed three nasty colds in as many months, so I’d been wondering if there was a way to boost her immunity, even just a little bit, through her diet.

In a nutshell, the book encourages you to make baby food yourself, using lots of “super foods”–not just fresh fruits, vegetables, grains and legumes, but with those that are especially jam-packed with nutrients. At the heart of Super Baby Food is Super Porridge, which should constitute the baby’s biggest and most hearty meal of the day. You make it by throwing grains into a blender (I’ve been using brown rice and millet this week), then cooking them in water. You make a few servings at a time and put them in individual containers in the fridge. Come meal time, you take out a serving of Super Porridge and add stuff to it. In ice cube trays, I’ve frozen portions of pureed fresh vegatables and fruits of the “super” variety (including kale and papaya). So I pop one or two of these veggie/fruit cubes in the porridge and microwave briefly, and mix it up with a bit of flaxseed oil and brewer’s (nutritional) yeast. Every other day, I add an egg yolk to the porridge, per the book’s suggestion. On Sunday, I hardboiled four eggs and put them in a sealed container in the fridge. I eat the egg white as I mash the yolk before dumping it into Stella’s porridge. And the shocking thing is, she likes it. She really really likes this porridge stuff. Her favorite seems to be Super Porridge with a cube of mashed avocado, a cube of mashed papaya and an egg yolk (the flax and yeast are givens). I make an effort to prepare the porridge in a way that is appetizing. I’m not down with making her food that is nutritious but unappealing–what fun is that?

According to the book, yogurt has enormous health benefits (big revelation there, right?) and should be the base of one meal per day. I haven’t full-on incorporated this into our routine yet, because Stella is not supposed to have dairy until one year of age. However, I do stir some rice yogurt into her morning fruit meal, and I plan to grab some soy yogurt at the grocery store. I’ll probably do my bowels a favor (I owe them one after months of Pagliacci Pizza, RoRo’s BBQ and Mighty O donut dependence) and stock up on some Greek yogurt for myself.

Super Porridge may sound a little crazy and, well, it is–when you compare it to our old mode of using Earth’s Best jarred baby food and cereal (which I still use here and there as I am not going to become militant about what Stella eats and want her to enjoy a wide variety of foods). Super Baby Food isn’t exactly “simple.” But the level of effort wasn’t too excruciating this first week. I get the sense that in another week or two, I’ll be in the flow of it, making only small batches here and there. I expect this plan to become a habit that doesn’t require the current level of thinking and deciphering. Besides, I feel so good about feeding Stella this way. I love knowing that even on days when Stella doesn’t eat much, each bite she takes is off-the-charts nourishing. At times I still want to chuck the book out a window because it’s such a convoluted read, but I am really grateful for the hearty bits of wisdom nestled within pages full of rampant bolding and italics, near-criminal use of indentation, and random tangents and unneccessary side notes. All told, I love the book and how it’s enabled me to boost the quality of Stella’s daily meals.

I am finally taking better care of myself. As I plan her meals in advance,  I find that I am doing the same for me. I eat when she eats. We eat together, and though feeding her used to feel like a dreaded chore, it’s becoming more fun. I wore earrings and a skirt yesterday, and felt somewhat cute for the first time in ages. Nothing fancy, mind you. But I brushed on a bit of my beloved Jane Iredale SPF 20 Warm Silk mineral foundation, thought for more than five seconds about my outfit, and even accessorized. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I may shave my legs soon. (It’s blond and fine so not very visible. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself.)

Maybe it’s because we visited Stella’s OT last week for pointers. Maybe it’s the weather or my improved attitude rubbing off on Stella. Maybe it’s a growth spurt or her new homemade super food. Perhaps it’s all of the above. For whatever reason, Stella is chowing down. She seems to enjoy eating more than ever before. I’ve said this before many times. But maybe now, after all these months, we can stop the counting and obsessing and begin a new era of enjoyment. It would be as nourishing for Stella, and myself, as anything I can put in a bowl or bottle.

Bon appetit!

Open wide

Posted on by amberhj

So, as I reported earlier, we visited Seattle Children’s Hospital this week to see Robin, Stella’s wonderful and very wise occupational therapist. We wanted to check in and see how Stella is doing with solids. We were worried because she wasn’t eating as much as a nine-month-old is “supposed to” by now. She had not been showing any aversive behavior, and once in a while she’d chow down on bananas, avocado or toast, but overall, her intake of solids seemed pretty low–maybe 1/4 of a cup for an entire day and a few bites of finger food. And it was taking *forever*.

Well, Robin assured us that Stella was just fine. In fact, Stella has no feeding problems anymore, at all. I knew this deep down, but it was an incredible relief to hear it from our trusted expert.

We realized that the problem was us–not Stella. Robin gave us some very valuable pointers on how to feed Stella more effectively. It turns out that we’d been so afraid to push Stella, based on early battles over breastfeeding and bottle-feeding, that we weren’t offering her enough via spoon. We were way too timid. Stella doesn’t need to be coddled. Ever since our meeting with Robin, we’ve pretty much been “shoveling it in” and Stella has been enjoying 1/4 to 1/2 cup of baby food plus a few bites of finger food at each of her three meals. Just like she is “supposed to.” It’s amazing!

She seems to really enjoy my homemade blueberry puree mixed with a bit of cereal, and that makes me so happy! That said, Stella has a nasty cold, which is making food less appealing to her–especially chunky things like finger foods. She’s thrown up immediately after some of her meals due to coughing fits, but it’s tapering off as the worst of her illness appears to be over. It hasn’t slowed her down too much, but I’m interested to see how eating goes when she feels better.

Stella had been taking enormous bottles, up to nine ounces at a time for a total of 30 ounces of formula a day. Contrast that to the days when when 3 and a half ounces was HUGE! So in the two and a half hours before her first nap, she was getting 400-450 mls (that’s up to 15 ounces in the first couple hours!). No wonder she wasn’t into solids. She was full! As a result, we’re in the midst of a schedule shift. I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but it’s made me anxious.

We had our old schedule *down.* I knew roughly how much she would eat when, and it created a nice comfort zone–for me as much as Stella. Well, as she grows we need to adjust, and that’s what we are doing now. But a low-level panic infiltrated my day. By fitting in these larger meals of solids, we are messing with the timing and amounts of her bottles. She doesn’t seem hungry enough to take a bottle RIGHT after solids. I don’t know exactly when she’ll get her 24-30 ounces for the day and it makes me nervous. I have to watch for hunger cues more closely. So, I am officially out of the comfort zone, and am figuring out what works and what doesn’t. It’s a bit of a throw back to when Stella had her tube and when we were weaning her. I never really knew when she would want to eat. I just had to pay attention and wait–not my strong suit.

I’m giving myself pep talks, and they are effective.  They sound a little bit like this:

“If I can survive the anxiety of a newborn that won’t eat, pumping around the clock, mastering the use of a god damned supplemental nursing system, navigating the complexity and chaos of hospitals and healthcare, inserting and maintaining an NG tube, getting no more than three hours of sleep at a time for two months, weaning my baby off of the tube and curing her aversion without (completely) losing my mind, I think I can figure out a new feeding schedule. Damn it, I can do just about ANYTHING.

And so can Stella.”

Wrong again. Then right.

Posted on by amberhj

There have been so many times during our seven months with Stella when we thought we had everything figured out, only to discover that we were completely wrong.

Back when she was refusing to eat and not gaining much weight, before her two months with the tube, we were, at one point, convinced that the issue was her poor latch. Then it was my low milk supply. We were way off, and it would take us a while to realize that Stella’s latch was indeed okay–she just didn’t want to take in milk and acted accordingly, which led to my low milk supply and not the other way around. Then we were certain that THRUSH explained why she didn’t want to eat. Nope–the doctor took one look and shot that down. Then it was lactose intolerance that was the cause of all our trials and tribulations. Wrong again! Her lab tests pointed in another direction (cow’s milk protein intolerance–whatever that means).

One night last week, Stella woke up AT LEAST a dozen times and screamed her head off upon opening her eyes. She shook her head from side to side. She was furious and clearly in pain.  Holding her, bringing her to our bed–all the usual no-fail tactics–did little to nothing to soothe her. She was incredibly fussy with the bottle (our nightmare revisited). But we thought she’d just fought off a bug of some kind, so after some quick online research, the answer seemed obvious: Stella had an ear infection.

Nope.

The next day, a pediatrician told us with 100% certainty, after peering into Stella’s adorable ears, that there was nothing resembling an ear infection. She also felt around Stella’s tummy, applying pressure in an attempt to find intestinal discomfort. There was none. There was no source of pain that could be identified, except for her second tooth coming in, just to the left of the one, in the front on the bottom, that came in a couple weeks ago. The last time a tooth erupted, sure, there was fussiness around eating but not endless bouts of screaming and almost completely sleepless nights. We were baffled. Again.

And to make matters worse, at her appointment, she weighed in a full two ounces less than the previous day’s doctor’s visit (she’d been acting like a rag doll and was clearly sick, then we thought she fought it off, then she stayed up all night screaming, then we thought she was okay for a day, then she developed a horrendous cough). Which put her one month weight gain at a mere 4 ounces and just about sent me off the edge. With the doctor’s help, we came up with a game plan to get her some additional calories. I’ll be mixing in rice cereal with all her spoon fed meals–though I don’t think she’ll ever take as much rice cereal as they want her to because she simply doesn’t like it. We have all but removed the fruit in her bottles, as it may have a laxative effect (especially the prunes) and take up the space of the more nutritionally important formula. (Though in hindsight, that plan seems futile–a sweet sort of futility made up of good parental intentions. Stella will eat what she wants to eat, when she wants to eat. And there is so incredibly little I can do about it.)

Just when we thought everything was going so well.

But then, earlier this week, she ate 30% more than she is “supposed to.” And now, she’s back to not wanting to eat, because she appears to be teething (she chews on the nipple, doesn’t want to suck, yadda yadda.) I guess that’s just the way babies are. Last week, Cody was feeding Stella, and despite how much I love her (so much that it makes me crazy sometimes), I just wanted to leave. I didn’t want to hear the crying. I didn’t want to worry myself sick. I didn”t want to wrestle with the mystery of  “what is wrong now.” I just wanted her to be okay. To be healthy and happy. How can such a simple wish be so heavy?

Well, today I’m in a different place. Cody just fed her. She took about 100, far below her usual. But I don’t feel the need to avoid the situation. I am not as worried. Something has changed. Maybe because for the few days preceding this teething strike, she ate like a champ. She ate like you read about. She ate like eating was hip and she was a hipster. She ate like it was the only thing worth doing. So, if for a few days she doesn’t eat as much, how can I really worry? She is doing what she needs to do. I trust her. She is not the baby that used to scream her head off when she saw the bottle. Nowadays, if she doesn’t want to eat, she chews on the bottle. The bottle is her buddy, not her enemy. Her new tooth isn’t a buddy at the moment, but that’s okay. She is a baby, doing normal baby things. I am a new-ish mom. Experiencing normal new mom things. We are “normal.” (As normal as there is, anyway.) There is no tube. There is no feeding aversion. We are so blessed. And to worry this time in our lives away would be criminal.

Seriously. She is so cute I can’t stand it. I am so mindblowingly lucky. And gratitude now outweighs worry. By far. What a difference a few months make.

With that, I’m dragging Cody and Stella to Molly Moon’s. After all the emotional progress I’ve made, a sundae is in order. Make it snappy. And don’t you dare skimp on the whipped cream.

Wheel! Of! Feeding!

Posted on by amberhj

It occurred to me today that feeding Stella is like being on The Wheel of Fortune, a show that I’ve always loathed. As she’s eating, I’m basically thinking, “Big Money! Big Money!” When she’s done with the bottle, I look to see how much she’s eaten–200 mls or more is the equivalent of landing on $5,000 and 100 or below feels like the “Bankrupt.” Doesn’t help that she’s sick, which has crushed her appetite. And that we found out, during a recent doctor’s visit, that she’d gained very little weight in the past month. It’s enough to make my head spin. And hurt.

I keep telling myself, accurately, that babies gain weight in spurts, and she’ll surely have one when she’s feeling better.

In the meantime, I’d like to buy a vowel. And some Ibuprofen.

Drowning in snot

Posted on by amberhj

A coughing baby has to be one of the most heartbreaking sounds in the world–to any parent at least.

Stella has coughed so hard, once yesterday and once today, that she threw up a mixture of mostly formula with some bile and mucus mixed in. Her hacking is HORRIBLE. It sounds painful and junky! She has to endure the ol’ blue bulb syringe several times a day. After her experiences with the tube, she has very well-honed avoidance tactics including head shaking and arm flailing. I could develop a very challenging video game based on this scenario. Suck-a-Muck. Just as exciting as Whack-a-Mole but more gritty and intense.

Amazingly, though, Stella’s still happy most of the time. She gets tired more quickly, just like anyone with a bad cold who is bogged down with congestion.

She’s sleeping in her wedge and staying more upright in general until the worst is over. We put eucalyptus and lavender essential oils in her vaporizer, which is on all the time. A couple times a day we steam up the bathroom and hang out in there until we’re sweaty and curly-haired. And as noted, I suction her nose often, but haven’t resorted to the Angela’s Ashes method of simply placing my mouth over her nose and literally sucking it out and spitting it into the fire. But I would totally do that if it would make this nasty bug leave her alone sooner. In fact, I would do it right now if I thought it would help us all sleep. But her mucus production is simply too high. Any improvement wouldn’t last for long. So I’ll hold off on that tactic.

At the moment, we’re just riding this thing out. We’re not worrying about weight gain at all, just feeding her when she seems hungry and focusing on getting her well. I have to say, it’s her first illness, and seven months is a hell of a run. Nicely done, Stella Bella. Now let’s kick this cough to the curb!