Makin' Babies

Step By Step

2012-01-30T14:17:00.001-05:00

Sorry I tuned out for so long!

Quick updates for the curious:

I'm still pregnant! Yay! About 17 weeks at this point.
I feel kicking every day, and that helps make me much more optimistic about the future.
Nobody has to keep this a secret anymore.
We find out the sex of the baby at our big survey ultrasound this week. So excited!
Elsie is doing awesome. Yes, she knows that there is a baby in my belly. No, she is not so thrilled about it.
I've been looking into the possibility of preschool for Elsie next year. She will be barely old enough for it, but she seems more ready every day.

Life is good! Except for one thing: morning sickness. It is getting old. The sickness has improved over the past weeks and months. I get longer periods of feeling good during every day, and I get some days off. I can eat many more foods than I could a month ago, expanding my repertoire beyond potato chips, soda, and pickles. My friends who know me as a health nut should get a good chuckle out of that one! My status is improving, but I am not 100%.

I still find myself making emergency vomit plans. You know, when you're driving in your car frantically wondering, "Where can I pull over and throw up out my car door?" My energy is terrible. I still grind to a halt, completely out of the blue, and have to lie down for hours in the evening. I can't handle getting Elsie to bed most nights. I still find food cravings overwhelming and food aversions crippling. Cooking is still almost entirely out of the question.

When I tell people that I don't have a full time job right now "because we want more kids," I get a lot of quizzical looks. People probably think that is no explanation at all. Pregnancy and work are not mutually exclusive for many, but they are for me. I remember this stage with Elsie. I would slink into the office after10:00 am, sit green at my computer for a few hours, and run home around 2:00 or 3:00 pm, in time to lie on the couch before the nausea was so overwhelming I could no longer move at all. Then I'd yell at my husband when he came home and go to bed early, or, alternately, pass out face-down in my pathetic plate of white rice at 5:00 pm. My time at the office was not productive. It merely allowed me to show my ashen face in my building every day. I completely understand why so many women lose their jobs over their morning sickness. Some probably lose their husbands, too. It is all-consuming.

I am lucky to have this leisure. I am lucky we can afford it. I am lucky to have a husband who takes extremely good care of me when I am incapacitated and who is extremely patient with me when I lose my hormone-addled temper. I am lucky to have a toddler who can entertain herself safely and happily for hours if I am too sick to get up. I am lucky that I am not vomiting and I am gaining weight (despite a poor diet). Things could be much worse.

And yet... I am ready to FEEL as though this is my 2nd trimester. So ready!

Phew

2011-12-22T15:14:00.001-05:00

Ultrasound showed an active baby, heart-rate 150, which is good for 12 weeks.

Another sigh of relief! I'll post pics when I'm near a scanner.

Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers and words of support!

Merry Christmas!

Anxious Days

2011-12-17T11:30:00.002-05:00

I don't know exactly when pregnancy went from fun and exciting to utterly terrifying. I'm sure it has to do with my repeated experience of loss and the familiarity of the holiday season. It is, after all, the anniversary of my first miscarriage.

Whatever the reason, this pregnancy is characterized by a sense of impending doom.

A few nights ago, alone after putting Elsie down for an early bedtime, I sat down at the computer to answer a friend's email. Suddenly, I felt something warm in my pants. The sensation shocked me right out of my seat. For a brief moment, I wondered if I was the victim of urinary incontinence. It wasn't a lot of liquid, but enough to gush, warm and wet all the way down my pj pants to my socks. Blood.

I called the midwife immediately and left a message with the answering service. I had to wait a little while for my call back. I filled the time with nervous mental tallies of all my friends and neighbors who could come babysit on short notice and macabre fantasies of late visits to the ER or blood clots and gray tissue slipping into my toilet at home. I punctuated this self-torture with occasional moments of hope. We've all heard of those women who bleed through their pregnancies and have healthy babies. Then there was another gush.

The midwife on call was sympathetic and matter-of-fact.

"We both know this isn't a good sign. If you get cramping, then you can manage this miscarriage at home. If the bleeding stops, call back tomorrow morning and ask for an ultrasound."

The cramping never came. I called Hub and he left his company holiday party immediately, stopping to buy me pads on his way home. We went to bed, and by morning, the bleeding had stopped.

My mom came with me to the ultrasound. I know the drill by now. I immediately recognized a fetus on the screen, and then that fetus jumped. I cried, just like last time. We got a good look at everything, first by belly ultrasound, then by pelvic ultrasound, which is much crisper and better-detailed. The technician was very positive. A sound heartbeat, an active fetus measuring at 12 weeks, and no obvious source of bleeding. Bleeding, she explained, can end a pregnancy even if the fetus is healthy. But my bleeding had stopped. Time to go home and take it easy.

***

Today was my 12-week midwife appointment with Connie. I went in cheerful. Things seem stable. The ultrasound was good. My tummy just popped out two days ago, overnight. I was so sick yesterday that I had to lie on the couch for three hours and could only eat Chinese food. I love Connie, and I was looking forward to hearing a tiny heartbeat. Connie poured out her goop and ran the doppler over my belly, and over, and over, and over again, prodding me from every angle. I heard my own pulse three dozen different ways, but no baby.

"It might not mean anything. It might just be the angle of your uterus. But with your history, I don't want you to have to wait two weeks for your next ultrasound. I'm going to get you in tomorrow."

It might not mean anything. But I know what it might mean.

TWO!

2011-11-28T21:31:00.000-05:00

Someone turned two today! A few scattered thoughts on the matter before I turn in:

We always get about twice as many gifts as Elsie can handle before a meltdown. At one, one gift would have been PLENTY. This year, 3 was about the limit. I trickled a few out the day after her party (without wrapping). Many more were put away for Christmas in a few weeks. Who knew there would be so many gifts from a small family celebration!

The balloons were the favorite gift of all, even after losing their loft in 24 hours. Tip for tot parents on a budget: cheap and fleeting joy is still joy worth having. Balloons are where it's at!

It is definitely time for full-on potty training. Note the awesome big-girl pants in the picture. They have racoons on them. Both Elsie and I are rather fond of them. More on the potty training in future posts.

What a strange November 28th, that I could take my little girl outside in nothing but her undies and a cardigan, and have her perfectly comfortable!

Everyone always warned me that it goes fast. Everyone is correct!

Before I had a baby, I used to worry about what would happen when she was two. I remembered how trying some of the two-year-olds I babysat could be, and I worried that I wouldn't love Elsie as much when she got stubborn and started throwing tantrums. How wrong I was! How completely and utterly wrong!

I love Elsie more every day. She's more fun now than she ever has been before. For every small tantrum I weather, I get to enjoy the myriad other facets of her development. She has a very easy disposition compared to the kids I used to sit, but even if she didn't, even if she was trying as hell, this would still be awesome. Sure, she sometimes tells me "NO!" When I'm tired, it's sometimes hard to hold my ground. Babies don't put you through that. But babies also don't talk to you. Babies don't share jokes with you or sing to you or count to you or tell you stories. For every moment I have to steady my nerves or issue a time-out, there are a dozen moments (or maybe a hundred) where Elsie fills me with joy, makes me laugh with delight, or shocks me with her ever-growing ability. It's all special and important, but one was better than infancy and two is even better than one. I love this!

Happy birthday to my darling girl. You couldn't be any more special than you are, Elsie. I am so lucky to have you!

On Pizza and Ultrasounds

2011-11-18T14:17:00.001-05:00

There's a strong theme of self-blame among women who suffer miscarriages, and while I am very good at talking other women out of their self-punitive logic, I have a stubborn streak of my own that I just can't shake.

Monday, I took Elsie to Whole Foods for lazy (sick and exhausted) mom's lunch. I bought her a juice box, a piece of pepperoni pizza and a little tub of pre-cut watermelon and let her go to town. I had fasted for a week at that point due to my nausea and complete revulsion at the sight, smell, or mention of food. Something shifted, there at that table in the market. That pizza looked AMAZING. It even smelled amazing. I wanted it. It was a huge piece. Yes, I am sensitive to gluten, but surely there would be no harm in taking a little bite. And another. And another.

I ended up eating half the piece of pizza. I couldn't stop. It felt so good to eat and to enjoy eating. But with every delicious, ravenous, satisfying bite, this little nag in my head said, "If you miscarry tomorrow, you are going to hate yourself for eating gluten today."

Almost exactly 24 hours later, in one fell swoop, I lost 95% of my pregnancy symptoms.

"What if I killed our baby with pizza?" I asked hub.

"What if pizza cured your morning sickness?" He responded. "Maybe your body was telling you it needed pizza."

I was not amused.

*********

Since Tuesday, I have been seeking answers to my diminished nausea, breast tingling, and vivid dreams.

Connie is my wonderful and amazing primary care midwife. She's a middle aged woman of compassion, pragmatism and big, Bonnie Raitt hair. She, and most of the midwives at my practice, seem to have honed their trade during the Our Bodies Ourselves revolution, and I love them for it. The spirit of feminism runs strong at the birth center, and it is completely fitting. An inherent trust and confidence in women's ability to know and to do are not just gravy, they're a foundation for supporting healthy pregnancies and empowering natural childbirth, which is what most midwives do best.

Connie was happy to see me, squeezed in between appointments. She remembered my story in great detail. When I explained my worry, the urgency with which I wanted more information, and then apologized for being so incredibly paranoid, Connie stopped me.

"Don't be sorry. We all live based on our own experiences, and you have more than enough experience to cause you to worry. What's you're phone number? I'm going to make sure you get your results as soon as possible." Connie gave me a warm hug on my way out.

The results was 104185, a number delivered to me by Heidi, another midwife. It represents HCG level.

"That's nice and high. A good number for 7 weeks." She reported. "We'll see what your next number is at 48 hours."

I thanked her and hung up. Ten seconds later, my phone rang again.

"Kate, it's Heidi. I was thinking, you seem pretty worried, would you like me to order an ultrasound? The HCG is high enough for it to be informative, and seeing is believing."

I explained that, yes, any information I could get before Saturday morning, when my husband leaves the country for three weeks, would be most appreciated. Again, I apologized for my obsessive attitude, and again, I was offered heartfelt reassurances,

"Don't be sorry. You're listening to your body, and that's exactly what you should be doing."

I can't imagine any OB I've ever met saying these things. I always feel as though doctors are inwardly rolling their eyes at me. Five minutes later, the phone rang again.

"It's Heidi. You're booked for an ultrasound tomorrow morning. Drop by my office afterwords.

**********

This morning, I skipped yoga to go to the hospital for my ultrasound. Hub met me in the waiting room and joined me when a very sympathetic tech ushered us into the room. She asked about my history.

"This is my fifth pregnancy."

She nodded and explained to me that she's not allowed to give diagnosis (read: bad news). But that she would answer whatever information she could.

"You understand." She said. "You've been through this before." I have.

She was able to see what she needed with external ultrasound, so no joystick vagina this time, which was a nice surprise.

"I just want to show you this" she said, momentarily swiveling the screen into my view. "It's a heartbeat. It's not a promise, it doesn't mean what's going to happen next week, just what's here now. And right now, there's an embryo with a heartbeat. 143. It's a good rate."

I started to cry, embarrassing Hub, I'm sure.

"Thank you." I choked. "I thought there would be nothing."

I thought there would be nothing. But there is something:

Findings: Transabdominal images demonstrate a single live intrauterine gestation with identification of a normal gestational sac, yolk sac, and fetal pole. Too early to assess the placenta. Adequate amount of amniotic fluid. The fetal heart rate is 143 beats per minute. The crown-rump length is compatible with 6 weeks 5 days which correlates with the dates by the last menstrual period of 9/29/2011. The uterus and ovaries appear unremarkable. No significant free fluid in the pelvis. Impression: Single normal live intrauterine gestation, size equals dates.

So that's that. Where we are now. I am not currently miscarrying.

Heidi gave me a big hug and sent me on my way.

"I'm STARVING." I told Hub, no longer feeling my hunger as a bad omen. He gave me a squeeze, and took me out for fish and chips. Glutinous, deep-fried, delicious fish and chips.

Maybe pizza did cure my morning sickness after all. Pregnancy is a strange beast.

Can't Win

2011-11-15T16:11:00.001-05:00

The good news is, I feel great today.

The bad news is, I feel great today.

This is terrifying. It's exactly what happened to me a year ago when I had a blighted ovum. All of a sudden, that sick fog just lifted and I felt like a million bucks. I hit the books and managed to pass my classes (no way I could have done that with morning sickness!) then called the doctor on my way home from my exam. She scolded me for not calling sooner. But what would they have done sooner? Absolutely nothing, because if your pregnancy is doomed, then it is doomed, and there is no saving it.

Today I will use my ability to smell food to enjoy dinner with friends, and for that I am grateful. I am just worried. Very worried.

I called the midwife. She was most sympathetic. We decided to start with blood testing so that I have a bit more info by the time I attend my 8 week appointment on Monday. HCG levels should approximately double every 48 hours. We shall see how mine measure up.

The Good News and The Bad News

2011-11-14T17:58:00.001-05:00

I am in serious need of some good morning sickness remedies. Nibbling on crackers just isn't cutting it.

Elsie modeling her carefully selected outfit (complete with blueberry stains)
and her mother's most frequent posture these days

I got pregnant on my last cycle -- cycle 3 after Hub's fever and the last chance before his trip, for those keeping track. Now I feel like dying, and I'm only 6 weeks in.

It's reminiscent of pregnancies #1 and #2 (Elsie and blighted ovum respectively). I am not throwing up (so it could be worse), but the nausea is debilitating. Food of almost any sort makes me gag. I smell EVERYTHING. I am completely useless for most of the day. I don't know how working women do it. In both those previous pregnancies I ground to a halt at work, barely showing my face for weeks. This time I don't have to put on a brave face for anyone but Elsie. She keeps a nice schedule, allowing for 3 hours of couch-wallowing during nap and bedtime at 7:00 pm, as soon as she's down. During my waking hours, it's constant, unrelenting queasy misery.

Of course, it's also just what I always wanted, so hooray for that!

If you know me IRL, keep it on the down-low, please! Six weeks is nowhere near safety yet. At least you'll know why I'm green at Thanksgiving!

Baby Fever

2011-11-11T13:08:00.001-05:00

This is a story from three months ago that I have been meaning to share on the blog for ages. File under Kate needs a more soothing hobby -- aka, ridiculous fertility paranoia.

Sometime in the haze that was re-writing and defending my thesis, I came home from work one day to find Hub's car in the driveway. Fantastic! I thought. He's home early!

It was not, in fact, fantastic. I found Hub in bed, a sweaty, shivering, delirious mess. I have honed my hand-to-forehead temp-taking over these past two years with Elsie, but Hub was off the charts for this ther-mommy-ter. 105 F. (40.6 C) That's high. Scary high!

I called his doctor right away and asked if I had to run the ice bath or get him into the ER.

"How long has he been like this?" She asked. I had no idea. "Has he taken anything yet?" I suspected not.

She told me to give him 3 ibuprofen right away, and if it didn't bring the fever down within 45 min, to get him to the hospital asap.

The drug brought the fever down within minutes, sparing us ER and brain damage. Hub hates taking ibuprofen, but it kept him cool and comfortable for the next several days while he slept off his bug. I cooked him chicken soup and brought him ginger ale and slept in the guest room so as not to disturb him. I did all the things that a loving wife does for a sick husband. Let me just say, up front, that Hub's health, safety, and comfort was my top priority until he got better.

And he got better.

And I had lots of energy left for nagging fertility worry. Of course.

My worry logic went something like this:

Saunas are bad for sperm. Hot tubs are bad for sperm. Even briefs and lots of exercise are bad for sperm. Fevers must be bad for sperm, too! And this was a high fever.

Evan must have killed off a whole lot of sperm with that fever, and we were just about ready to start up trying again.

I wonder how long the sperm count will be low?

I wonder if there might be other problems with the sperm. Problems where we could get pregnant, but not have a healthy baby.

Is it irresponsible to try to get pregnant after a fever? Am I going to make mutant babies if we try now? OMG OMG OMG OMG! I'm going to make a mutant baby because I just wasn't patient enough to wait for good sperm! I'm a monster!

So I headed to the internet. We already know I'm an internet hypochondriac, so this was a terrible idea that I justified by using PubMed as my search engine instead of google. It was a scholarly terrible idea! It was science (and a terrible idea).

Sperm Chromatin Structural Assay (not Hub's). Orange stain indicates fragmented DNA

When hub came home from work that day, he found me a ball of nerves and tears. I had tracked down a case study on this very subject that showed the effects of fever on sperm count were severe, but relatively short-term (say, a month), but the effects on sperm DNA quality persisted for three months post-fever. The reason for this is presumably that there are sperm in production when you have the fever that won't be ready for a few months. Everything all the way down the line gets fried by the fever, and you have to wait a while for later batches to cook up right.

"Three months! Three months! Then, month 4, you're going to be away, and so we won't even be able to have a shot at trying until 5 months!" I lamented.

I know that someone is reading this and thinking, "What kind of a nut is this woman? Relax! What's the rush? Cool it, honey!" Plenty of well-meaning people have expressed a similar sentiment to me before, and I know they want the best for me. I know they don't want me tearing my hair out over this. To explain why this is more than simple neurosis, let me give you some emotional context.

I wanted to space my babies close together. I wanted to have them young. I definitely want more than one child. It's the way I pictured my family and the way I wanted things to be. Family is the most important thing to me, so while I am happy to change career plans, I am reluctant to change family plans. I had to change my plans when it took a little while (5 m) to conceive Elsie. I had to change my plans again with my first miscarriage. And my second. And even with my chemical pregnancy. And now I faced changing them again because of a fever.

Family planning is a dream, and it is a rough one to wake up from. I have so little control over my fertility compared to what I always assumed when I was dutifully taking my birth control pills. I can't make a year-of-the-dragon baby any more easily than I can make a spring baby. I am infinitely lucky that I could make a healthy baby at all. Not everyone can.

When I freak out about Hub's fever sperm, it's not just about the sperm. It's about releasing this vice grip on my family plans, raising up my hands, and letting the autumn wind blow it all away with the colorful leaves, the seeds on their sails, and the spiders on their silken parachutes. It's learning to trust this universe with my heart and my hopes and my children.

That, for me, is no easy task.

In the end, I called my doctors. They all agreed, I may have trouble getting pregnant the first few months, but it isn't irresponsible to try. So we try, not by my schedule or the thermometer, but by our whims and the murmurs of our bodies.

I take Elsie for a walk, feel the cold air on my face, and chip away at these anchors of control, self-reliance, and perfectionism so that I might fly on that wind a little bit, too.

Happy Halloween!

2011-11-02T09:18:00.002-04:00

I planned to make Elsie a caterpiller for Halloween. It was an ambitious project, but I bought two yards of bright green fabric and was ready to give it a go. The very first time I powered up my sewing machine to start the costume, the noise woke Elsie rudely from her nap. That was the end of that.

I love Halloween, and I am a die-hard crafty DIYer when it comes to costumes which is why I somehow had an entire bolt of extra-wide tulle collecting dust in my basement. Excessive fabric stash to the rescue! I pulled out the emergency tulle and put together this ghost costume* in a couple of hours with Elsie's enthusiastic help. Elsie very much enjoyed rolling herself up in an entire bolt of tulle as I tried to measure and cut. Wearing the costume proved less exciting, but she tolerated her little cape for about 15 minutes, which was all it took to visit our very closest neighbors. Who all thought she was a bride.

We saw some of her best friends. Little K was a fairy princess. "Her $50 shark costume is home in the bag." K's mother rolled her eyes. Toddlers are fickle indeed.

S was also a princess, as were almost all the other girls who came to our door. All except for Z, of course. She was a punk zombie, and a truly awesome one at that.

At the end of the evening, Elsie chose a candy to eat, which is a real special treat in our house.

Of course, at daycare the next day, the chocolate was already out when I dropped Elsie off. Lest anyone worry that poor Elsie doesn't get her share of indulgence, daycare more than makes up for her uptight parents. They even sent Elsie home with a giant Halloween goodie bag which included about six pounds more candy and her very own cellphone-shaped makeup kit! For all those fairy princesses, or maybe her first pagent, which is kindof like Halloween in that it involves costumes and makeup and is terrifying. Start 'em young, folks.

I love returning to child-oriented Halloween. I still get excited for pumpkin carving and costume brainstorming. Now my enthusiasm is fun and not dorky because now I have a daughter with whom to share it. How cool is it that on one night of the year, even though it's a school night, all the kids get to dress up and traipse through their neighborhood gathering candy? There aren't too many of those universal cultural events left, but Halloween is one of them. I'm already excited for next year.

* Though I did make the costume myself, I did not design it myself. I got the idea from Martha Stewart (who else?) and slightly modified it to make it longer in back and shorter in front. If you're interested in making one of your own, the instructions are HERE. If I had to do it again, I'd measure out a deeper ellipse for the hood instead of the circle recommended.

Gratuitous Cuteness

2011-10-20T14:40:00.000-04:00

Posting a video of my adorable Elsie as a big thank-you for everyone's patience while I was writing, re-writing, defending, and recovering from my thesis and not updating here.

Go on, tell me that isn't the cutest thing you've seen today! First she sang the song, and I took a movie, then I played the movie and she sang along again!

Elsie's music and language skills are taking off these days. She can consistently match two notes on the solfege scale, I think it's fa and sol (F and G), and she shouts "pino pino!" when she hears piano solos or concertos. The Wheels on the Bus get the thumbs up "Like dat song!" as did a symphony of Hayden's in the car the other day and the classic favorite C is for Cookie. Too bad we don't actually feed her cookies.

Back to The Task at Hand

2011-10-20T14:03:00.000-04:00

Big news from KateCville: After four years of insane academic effort, I defended my masters thesis. I presented my work, which amounts to about 75% of a PhD thesis, answered an hour of tough questions, then three minutes of deliberation later, passed. I turned in all my papers last week. I am free!

The question is, what next? First, a short break. Next, a few hours of tutoring here and there so that our household doesn't bleed money indefinitely. After that, who knows? I'm scheming and will share my plans when I form them more coherently.

But all that is professional. Personally, I have a whole lot of plans.

On my facebook page, among all the congratulations over my successful defense, was this:

Wow. I think I know what this means. Congratulations!

The implication is that I am pregnant again, and that is why my advisor finally let me go. So I'd like to set the record straight:

1) What this means (my passing my thesis defense) is that I did a damn lot of hard work and it was MORE than enough for a masters degree. I was determined to get the masters, and though I had to face considerable unspoken punishment for my "sin" of having a baby in grad school, I finally perservered, thankyouverymuch.

2) I am not pregnant.

Let's examine the evidence People Magazine style:

You can't tell in the picture is that I was also menstruating.

Definitely not pregnant.

I wish that I were. Hub and I are trying, but can't get our hopes up. This process has become complicated, and healthy pregnancy seems like something worlds away right now.

This morning, I went to a party with a mom group I met at a nursing support group way back when Elsie was a tiny baby. They're all pregnant. I was literally the only one not pregnant for the first hour of the party. They were announcing left and right and squealing and hugging each other -- one is even having twins, so she's extra pregnant. The conversation centered around cravings and ultrasounds and nausea, and I was thinking of my latest pregnancy, a chemical pregnancy -- the earliest (and easiest) loss, just a few months ago. You get your positive pregnancy test, and then you get a heavy period the next day. There was fertilization, but it didn't stick.

I am the wet blanket of the group, at the moment. I have had more losses than I wrote about on this blog. Six people (living, breathing people, not embryos) have died in my circles over the past few months. All but one under the age of 30. By the time my student committed suicide last week, I barely had any grief left to give. I am all grieved out. Mix in a particular sensitivity to loss around pregnancy, and it's due time for a hiatus from happy glowy play group..

I am genuinely happy for all of these women, and for all of my other friends expecting babies, but it is difficult to feel so outnumbered. I do fine in mixed company, with one or two pregnant women, but put me in a room of six, all glowing and gushing, and I feel like the angel of death.

If you count a chemical pregnancy as a miscarriage, (some days I do and some days I don't) then that brings me to three. Three this year. Three, the magic number where you start the road to fertility treatment and IVF. I don't want to do that yet. I'm not ready. I may never be ready.

I've read that stress can't cause miscarriages, that it's just women putting blame on themselves unnecessarily, but I don't believe it. The stress of this year, hating my job, feeling constantly pushed back and pushed down, grieving intensely, made my hair fall out. It made me sick. No, stress didn't cause my blighted ovum and first miscarriage at the new year, but it might have caused the next one and the chemical pregnancy. My immune system has been in overdrive. I have acquired food allergies I never had before. It would not surprise me one bit if my immune system is attacking embryos as invaders and evicting them.

We'll see how it goes from here. I have a new life. A lighter, happier life without grad school. I have a new insane diet to work out these food allergies once and for all. Things are looking up. Expect more fertility themed posts in the future. And please, if you happen to know me in real life, keep this on the down-low. It might take a while. I'll take all the prayers and thoughts and good vibes I can get in the meantime.

Household Diplomacy

2011-10-07T15:11:00.002-04:00

I know I have a few cat-lovers who read here, who often wonder, midst all this baby talk, "How are the cats?"

Healthy, happy, neglected, and tormented.

Neglect has been a running theme ever since Elsie was born. Infants suck off all your nurturing capacity and then start siphoning off your self-care energy, too. There's nothing left over for anyone. Not your pets. Not your husband. Nobody. New moms can all attest, it can be hard to find a moment to empty your own bladder in a manner that is befitting of an adult. Showers become a distant memory of warm water, soap suds, and privacy.

Toddlerhood is easier. I've had my self care back for some time now. If I need a shower, I just bring Elsie in with me. I'm running a little surplus on nurturing energy that I use to keep my marriage intact and to remember to feed my cats and to present them with a lap every now and then. The rest of the time, I set them free to entertain themselves outdoors. They love being outdoor cats and have never been healthier or happier, despite the neglect.

Elsie more than makes up for my lack of kitty enthusiasm.

"CHE-TH-TER!!!" She screatches, and runs up to him. She knows how to pet him, and tries, at first, to be gentle, but gets carried away in a matter of seconds, grasping his tail or his paw, or embracing him in a bear hug and trying to cart him off in her arms.

"Lilylilywiliwlily!!!" She says, burying her fists in Lily's long fur, then throwing herself with all of her weight on the cat.

I am always close on Elsie's tail, preventing as many of these interactions as I can and interrupting the rest. I take time to explain what cats do and do not like, and to interpret their behavior for her. Ears rotate backwards. Tail tips twitch. Occasionally a small hiss is issued as warning, but never claws and never teeth. Their patience is incredible.

Recently, I have seen a change in Elsie. Now she walks up to Chester and doesn't reach to touch him, just looks. You can see how excited she is. She bounces from foot to foot and wrings her hands and whispers "Che-th-tser! Kitty cat!" Then, instead of flinging her arms around him, the way I know she wants to, she brings him offerings. The picture that accompanies this post is Chester, sleeping among all the toys Elsie has bestowed upon him during his nap.

They've found some comfortable middle ground here. Elsie can obsess over the cats while still leaving them mostly alone. Life for the cats is getting better.

Family Vacation

2011-09-24T20:31:00.000-04:00

Just posting this picture as a placeholder. I haven't forgotten about my blog, I'm just very very busy these days!

The whole family had a lovely vacation recently... one that was supposed to be a big, relaxing, celebratory, "Yay! you're done with grad school forever!" vacation. Alas, that detail was not to be.

I still have a few more rounds of purgatory to go. It's too stressful to talk about here, so I'm just going to stare at that picture to get me through it all. One moment of lovely evening joy. I need many more moments like that in my life.

Playground Genderwars

2011-08-25T12:47:00.007-04:00

The first thing Elsie does every morning -- or at least the first sign of wakefulness that I can detect from my own room -- is list her favorite things. Imagine life like that, rolling over, blinking in the beautiful late summer morning light, stretching your arms and legs, and watching the cobwebs clear from your mind to reveal all of your favorite things. Imagine being that optimistic! My list, if I could recapture that innocent joy, would probably sound like a fancy menu, or like a party invitation of my favorite people. For Elsie, it sounds something like this:"Fire truck! Fire truck! Garbage truck! Dump truck! FRONT END LOADER! Dinosaurs!!!"

"That's so cute!" Says my mom-friend. And I smile, because it IS awfully cute, which is why I shared the story. "Usually it's the boys who are so into trucks."

***

My dad walks into a bike shop and asks one of the sinewy, tan, scruffy young bike men, "Do you carry toddler bikes?"

"Sure." He replies. "For a girl or a boy?" gesturing to the options: a single bike everything-pink or a small array of bikes anything-but-pink.

***

"Does Elsie like GIRL stuff, or BOY stuff?" Asks S, our spunky 7-year-old nextdoor-princess, while Elsie plays with her newborn sister's toys in primary colors.

"What do you mean?" I ask. "She's still very young -- just one year old, so she still pretty much likes BABY stuff."

"Well, you know, that stuff there," S gestures to the red, yellow, blue, and green baby toys, "That's boy stuff. There's this girl at school, she never wears pink. Her back pack's, like, army pattern. And she likes to play sports with the boys. She's so weird. See me, I like girl stuff. I love princesses and Taylor Swift and Barbie. I have, like, 60 barbies upstairs."

"She does." Confirms her 5-year-old brother, G, from under his crown of blond curls.

"So does Elsie like girl stuff or boy stuff?"

***

There's a new kid in the neighborhood (8), who coasts down the street on a chunky blue mountain bike, wearing cargo shorts and a cotton undershirt, and showing off tricks, arms and legs extended, then rolls into the neighbor's driveway, drops the bike, casts off a blue helmet to reveal a disheveled mop of curls, and hops onto the swingset next to G (5), swinging so high that the old wood creaks and groans and the stabilizers buck off the ground. The whole swing set threatens to tear itself apart. M (S&G's incredibly hard-working mom) shoots me a look that says, "GREAT. A trip to the ER is all I need this evening."

Elsie toddles in front of the swings in her little cotton dress, too close for comfort.

"Stay right here, Elsie!" I say, swooping her up. "The big boys are swinging."

The new kid immediately scuffs to a halt in a cloud of dust and grass.

"I'm a girl."

"What?" I ask, not quite processing this new information.

"You said 'boys.' I'm a girl."

I feel awful. I turn beet red. I stammer, "I'm sorry. The big KIDS are swinging, Elsie. Kids."

***

So what's my point? Was I offended that my friend's surprise that my daughter loves trucks? Of course not. She didn't mean anything by it, and maybe she's write, statistically speaking. I just think maybe plenty of little girls like trucks, but we ENCOURAGE boys to like trucks.

And what's so wrong about distinguishing between girls and boys bikes?

"He didn't even ask for her age, height, or weight." My dad said, disbelieving. "You'd think that would be more important than color. Those bikes were the same. Why call them 'girl' or 'boy?' Why not just call them 'pink, red, blue, and black' and let the kid decide on aesthetics?"

What's so wrong about this is that we (or merchandise companies) are telling kids what the have to like to fit in. This is profitable for the companies oh no, you can't let your SON reuse that GIRL'S bike -- or he might turn out GAY! Instead you have to buy another completely overpriced toy and let the first one rot in the shed for eternity.

The problem is that kids buy into this. They crave these gender stereotypes, so the more rigid and restrictive the standards you set, the more they eat it up, hook like and sinker, like my next-door neighbor. The one who is actively ostracizing that "weird" tomboy in her class -- for the pattern of her backpack.

What happens, then, if you are a girl who doesn't like pink? A girl who thinks Taylor swift is uninteresting and barbies are boring? What if you're a girl like the new kid on my block?

As a third grader, she gets picked on just for being in a girls' bathroom, and is already medicated for anxiety because she is so worried that she'll never be able to find a college where she feels safe. (Yes, I told her mom about Smith.) She goes to private school with open and affirming doctrine and attends a transgender sleep-away camp even though she is not (at this time) transgendered. It is a place she can feel safe and be herself.

I have to admit, my first instinct was, "I really hope her moms aren't forcing her into gender neutrality as some well-meaning sociological experiment." Because I am a jerk. Turns out, no, this is just the way she is and just the way she has always been and her moms give her all the support she needs to be herself even in a world that sometimes ostracizes her for it. I commend her parents for supporting her this way.

Though it's lonelier for the tom-boy, I believe this gender battle is no more advantageous for the little princess. If she buys into these primary-school standards, what's to break the habit when she's a teen, trying attain standards of perfection of pubescent womanhood broadcast from photoshopped, airbrushed, pumped up, plucked, starved, nipped, tucked, and altogether grotesque shiny media empires?

And it's no better for boys than it is for girls. The messages to little boys is that you have to love blue, be strong, fierce, good at sports, and have no feelings -- and if you happen ever play in a play kitchen or break with these norms in any way, then you must be homosexual, and that is the worst thing you could possibly be. My mom once had to field a call from a parent in our school system who didn't want her son participating in drama -- a passion for him -- because she was afraid it would make him gay. That's pretty sick, too. This war touches everyone.

"But I loved the Disney Princesses, and I turned out just fine."

So did I. There was a time in my life when I could recite The Little Mermaid verbatim, from credit to credit. I loved that invisibly-waisted, impossibly-quaffed woman who gave up her one true talent and passion to get the man she loved so that she could leave behind her entire support network and go live with someone who loved her for her SILENCE.

And I turned out fine. Seriously. I did.

But I don't want that stuff in my house. I'm not judging you if you have it in your house, I just don't want it in my house. Elsie will be part of it because she is part of our culture, but I want her to come home to a place where it's okay to love a front-end-loader, even if you're a girl, and where boys can put on tutus and dance around without fear of ridicule, and where she learns compassion for people who don't fit social norms from our babysitter -- the most awesome tom-boy on the street. Because this particular kid, though very rough-and-tumble, is incredibly nurturing and loving and good with children.

So please, make our bike the red one. And swap that stupid seat covered in skulls for the plain black or white one. Sheesh.

Elsie Update: playground, favorite things, and bike

2011-08-24T10:56:00.003-04:00

Quick update and explanation from me first: I submitted a complete draft of my thesis over a week ago. HOORAY! All that hard work is why I haven't updated in eons. Apologies for that. Now I'm biting my fingernails and hoping my advisor will allow me to graduate while I put together my slides and prepare for battle -- I mean, my defense. It feels like battle, though. Everything in grad school is so adversarial.

But enough about me!

You know what's great? When your cute, helpless little baby turns into a fun and amazing kid. I am so damn proud of my daughter, and all she has done is survive to toddlerhood. But in doing so, she impresses me every day. It's incredible, and it makes me all kinds of annoying and braggy!

For instance, did you know that my daughter can now climb on the playground and go down the big twirly slide BY HERSELF!? Because she can! And it is awesome.

Many little kids do this well before Elsie's 21 months, but Elsie has always been slow to acquire new physical skills. Whenever I say that, people treat me very gently and reassuringly, as though I am worried about it. I'm not the least bit worried about it. Some kids are just really physical, and Elsie isn't one of them. It's nothing to worry about at all. She walked late, but she walked eventually and now she runs. I just assume it's going to be that way with most things. She's cautious and careful and thinks things through before she does them, and that's just who she is, and I love it, so when I say she's not very physical, I don't mean it as a knock, just as an observation. I stand back and let her figure it out in her own time and in her own way. And she does. It makes it all the more thrilling and fun to see her finally go scrambling all over that jungle gym, all by herself from the very first try. Way to go, Elsie!

Because Elsie is so cautious and careful and hesitant to try new physical things, I was amazed when, at a three-year-old birthday party, she fixated on her little friend Kay's pedalless bike.

"Bike!!! Bike! Bike! Bike!" she frantically yelled, pointing with her entire tiny arm at the magnificent yellow vehicle. Elsie wanted on that bike in the worst way! Unfortunately, I didn't have a wrench handy and Kay's bike seat was set too high, but it got me thinking.

Have you seen these things? They're great! Two-wheelers for tots with no pedals at all.Tots start out walking them around and learning the steering on foot, then can practice coasting and balancing when it feels right. It's the quickest way to learn how to ride a bike -- so intuitive! I don't buy many toys for my daughter. I'm a strong believer in the creative and fun power of a couple of sticks, a pile of stones, a big bucket of water, and box of sidewalk chalk. Where all that fails, she's a very loved child who does not want for gifts or hand-me-downs. But I'm gearing up to buy a toy now! I am in the market for a balance bike. Any suggestions?

A Day at The Pond

2011-08-01T09:23:00.001-04:00

Picture post! We had a beautiful morning swimming on Saturday. Elsie LOVES the water. She points out at it and says, "Water! Water! Want water!" As soon as I give her the go-ahead, she runs right in. You can just see her learning the physics of it as she takes a step or lets her legs float up in a push-up position. Everything feels different underwater!

She stays in until her lips turn blue and she's roaring her frustration at the cold. Then it's out for five minutes of warming up in a fluffy towel and mommy's or daddy's arms. As soon as the goosebumps have smoothed and the lips are pink, it's right back in again. This girl was born to swim.

Dinnah Time!

2011-07-29T17:04:00.002-04:00

Well, technically lunch time, but it's all "Dinnah time!" to Elsie!

Here Elsie and I take turns proving that it's physically impossible to feed someone else without making sympathetic funny faces. Just try!

Some irrelevant details: Elsie is feeding me watermelon and I am feeding her our favorite yogurt in the entire world, liberte coconut flavor. Not only is it full-fat, it has cream added. Oh yes. Oh yes. Some things are totally worth the extra calories, and this is one of them.

The sippy cup says something stupid like "child scientist" on it. I've taken Elsie to do a few studies at Harvard's child development department because even though I hate MY research, I don't hate all research. Bonus: a lovely friend of mine from Smith is one of the PhD candidates there. You get paid in free prizes. As often as I can manage it, I pull one over on Elsie and choose a sippy cup as compensation because we already have quite enough small cheap plush toys. Their sippy cups are the best!

The many-lobed tomato at the end of the breakfast bar is my own. We're knee deep in tomatoes already this summer, so life is good! That one is a Cherokee Purple, which is a very flavorful but not very high-yielding type of heirloom tomato. It's delicious. This one is wonky and had a spider living in its many crevices. EEK!

In The Womb

2011-07-29T13:05:00.002-04:00

In all the chaos and stress of late, I completely neglected to post about my second visit to the uterine scarring expert. As you can see, I got pictures!

It went really well. Histeroscopy is generally scheduled last-minute. I was told to call when I had my period so that they could do it sometime between days 5 and 12, when the uterus would be clear of lining. That fell on a popular vacation week. It was very quiet. I don't think med students get vacation, so they were probably off doing their first open heart surgery or something that day, because they were nowhere to be seen.

Everyone was very sweet and kind to me. I was nervous. I needn't have been.

"Tell her the truth," said Dr. I to his nurse as he entered the exam room. "It's a piece of cake!"

And it was. I barely even felt it. In a histeroscopy, they put a little fiber-optic up through your cervix. It has a light and a camera and a tube to pump your uterus full of sterile saline. They pump you up and take a good look around. Maybe it hurts a little more if you've never had a baby, but it did not hurt me at all. Not even a pinch.

What I saw was what you see at the top of this post: one peachy pink uterus with nice, smooth walls. No fibroids. No scary scars. Two open tunnels that are my fallopian tubes.

So quick. So easy. So reassuring!

With that picture of my pretty pink clean slate to reassure me, it's time to try again.

My Little Garden Gnome

2011-07-25T10:26:00.002-04:00

Guess what I did? I knit Elsie a sweater. I started it around the same time I started my thesis, because I needed something that would relax me and take my mind off of things and didn't run on electricity. It turned into a race, sweater vs. thesis. The sweater is all but complete (it needs buttons and ribbon trim). The thesis still needs a half a chapter, a major round of edits, and the blessing of my advisor. I think that means that the sweater wins the race. That would make willpower the loser here.

Frankly, I prefer the sweater. My thesis doesn't have cute little pea pod boarders or scalloped trim. Maybe it should.

Can any knitters out there (I'm looking at you, Emilee!) tell me why my scalloped trim is curling out so much? The picture has it lying nice and flat in the book. I am very new to this. This is only my second project. My first was a newborn sized sweater that is all wonky and would only fit ET.

The Sanctuary

2011-07-24T13:30:00.004-04:00

Last weekend, I attended Lauren's Memorial Service. It was a spectacular July day. Driving into town, Hub wondered, "What's with all the pink ribbons?" Nearly every mailbox wore one, a big salmon-colored bow. "Probably for Lauren." I guessed.*

When my mom told me on the phone the previous week, "We'll have to get someone to babysit for Elsie during the memorial service." My instinctive reaction was,

"I'll call Lauren. She'd love to do it!" In the moments before I blurted out those words, the impossibility of this hit me. We called my Aunt, instead.

Hub and I left Elsie with Auntie Lynne. The rest of my family was already hard at work at the church, putting everything together. Our church is a historic meetinghouse in the center of town. It sits on a hill and looks out over a green that was once the Sudbury town common, back before there was a Wayland. It seats about 300 people in the pews and parks only a couple dozen cars. Nowhere near enough to accommodate all the people who wanted to commemorate Lauren. A tremendous effort was made to provide access in other venues. Lines were run by the fire department. Sound and video were transmitted. Chairs were placed in rows by the hundred. 200 in the vestry of our own church, another 700 in the church across the street. Busses transported people from churches and temples all across town.

Hub and I were not part of this effort. Our job was just to be there. We climbed on our bicycles and rode to the center of town, I in a new orange dress, and hub with his khakis stuffed into his socks. You might wonder at the orange. We Unitarians don't exactly gather to mourn. The emphasis is placed on celebration. We met to grieve our loss, but also celebrate Lauren's life, hence the orange. We rode slowly, trying not to sweat, taking in the smell of sun on sweet grass the whole way to church.

I had visited with Lauren's mom and her dad the previous weekend. They are divorced, and the whole day, they were passing plans for the memorial service back and forth across town. At Malcolm's house, they were choosing readings and ministers. Mary was writing her list for the service. It struck me as familiar -- the drafting of my own wedding and invitation list. And even though she was only 18, that part of me that still doesn't get it, still doesn't realize Lauren's gone forever thought, "Ah yes, I knew I would be invited to this wedding some day."

This parallel won't quit for me. I take my seat in the same pew from which I watched my friend Amy, Lauren's earliest babysitter, get married ... only Amy is in the pew with me this time. It is a hot July day, not even a week after Hub's and my anniversary. It rained on our wedding day, but the hot church is the same. Sweat trickles down my arms and drip from my elbow. The last time I sweated like this, I was standing at the alter myself, nervously wondering if everyone noticed. On this day, there were blooming salmon rose bushes on the pulpit steps. Ken, who married me and Hub, takes the pulpit. It's so familiar.

But it's not Lauren's wedding. It is her memorial service. And it starts with a voice recording of her singing with her acapella group. I don't think I've ever cried so hard. Her voice is beautiful. Her pitch is perfect. She has come such a long way these last few years.

There are more tears. Many, many more tears. But there is laughter, too. I love hearing stories about Lauren. It gives me hope that the beauty of her life might outshine the tragedy of her death, and it reminds me that, even though we haven't been super close these last few years, she was still the same wonderful person at 18 as she was at 8 -- just older, more poised, more mature, and with even more to share. It is intensely gratifying to be in this sanctuary, stuffed up close to my mom on the left and my husband on the right, grasping both their hands and letting the tears flow freely and creating a mountain of soggy tissues at my feet. I am a sloppy crier.

It feels right to meet the eye of everyone in that room. If I don't know them, they are Lauren's extended family. If I do know them, they're members of our church, people who have seen me grow from a toddler to an adult. One of my youth leaders gave me the biggest healing hug. Even though I've forgotten the names of all the gray-haired women and white-bearded men around me, faces are familiar everywhere. The ministers all seek me out specifically. Here, I don't have to give excuses for why my thesis isn't done, or why I am grieving so deeply over someone I babysat. Here, I don't have to ask people to stop talking about the details of Laruen's death because it is too hard for me to think about. Here, I don't have to explain myself at all. They already know all that. It goes without saying. We are in this together.

There are beautiful words spoken by Lauren's friends, family, all three ministers, and even her father, who has been so vocal and considerate and dignified about everything. Let me assure you that her mother is just as poised and strong and dignified, but more private in all of this. I love them both, and I am relieved to see them sit beside each other, despite the divorce.

They close with another recording. Lauren is 12, starring in Annie. I remember it. I came home from college to see her. She belts out "Tomorrow" with all of her heart, and it just about destroys me. I can hear Mary sobbing, too. I used to think that song was so sappy. I don't think so anymore.

We emerge into the sunshine on the common. I give Lauren's childhood best friend a big hug. "I'm Kate. I was Lauren's babysitter. You might not remember me." "I remember you." She says.

And there, on the grass is my own childhood friend, outfitted in her triathlon training gear (far more appropriate for cycling than my own outfit). She came to listen to the service in the shade of a big oak tree. She came to support me. How incredible.

***************************

This morning, I took Elsie to church in our new town. I walked in to the quiet summer service, my daughter in my arms, and took a seat in a deserted pew. When the time came for sharing of joys and sorrows (an activity in which I am not usually inclined to participate), I stood and lit a candle in front of two dozen strangers.

"My name is Kate, and this is Elsie. I am currently feeling deep sorrow. My beloved friend, Lauren Dunne Astley's life was taken a few weeks ago. And though I am still grieving, I also feel joy for the incredible support and love that I have found in my home church. I want my daughter to grow up with that sense of history and place and community and familiarity that has brought me such comfort. I want to give her that foundation of support. This is why we came this morning. I want to give my daughter what I have found at church."

* The salmon bows are sold by local businesses Russels Garden Center, Beyond Beans(inside of JJ McKays) and Donelens. $1 per bow (Russels) or all proceds (BB and Donelens) of these bows go to The Lauren Dunne Astley Memorial Fund, a foundation established by her parents to support the things that Lauren loved most (arts and music) and also to fund grants geared towards fostering health and happiness in adolescent relationships.

If you're interested in making a contribution (definitely not a requirement of reading this blog!), you can mail a check to:

The Lauren Dunne Astley Memorial Fund
Village Bank, 62 Boston Post Road
Wayland, MA. 01778

I promise it'll get to the right place without any being lost to administrative costs. This is, after all, a labor of love.

Thesismonster

2011-07-13T13:10:00.007-04:00

I am exhausted. Maybe it's the sum of all my sleepless nights, and maybe it's the emotional toll of the past weeks, but I can hardly keep my eyes open and sit up straight in my chair.

I'm struggling to find a tone for this that won't automatically disqualify me from any career opportunity, should a potential employer ever read my blog. I am very bitter right now and struggling hard -- but I have not always been this way. Before grad school, I was good at almost everything I tried. Can you imagine? In industry, my harshest, pickiest coworkers took me aside to tell me how competent I was. Before that, I was the kind of teacher who inspired kids to look at their world differently -- in some cases, to even study science in college. As a student, I got great grades, had friends, had fun. I played the violin proficiently (if not "well" by violinist standards), I loved to draw and paint, and even though I was bad at sports, I was still captain of my diving team. I don't even relate to that more confident adept self at the moment. Grad school has taken a lot out of me.

My thesis is weighing heavily on me, at the moment. I'm a few pages into my last chapter. The closer I get to being finished, the harder this is to pull myself together. I have a complicated and toxic relationship with my research, my department, and my thesis. Writing this up is anxious and disappointing. It is neither an easy nor a gratifying task. It looms large and it looms long. I have been working on it for six months already, and have been sent back to the lab twice -- all for a masters! I don't even believe they'll ever let me graduate, anymore. I've been let down too many times before.

But here I am, at my desk at work. And here I have been, for the past weeks grieving over Lauren, and for my past months suffering my miscarriages, for my past years, adjusting to my new life as a mom and facing the kind of egos and attitudes that make life miserable for anyone who tries to put family first. Here I have been for four years, feeling grossly inadequate.

What have I learned? In order of importance:

That academic culture, research, and engineering are all terrible fits for me, so I really, REALLY don't need that PhD
That I was (and still am) passionate about teaching
10,000 very good reasons to keep your BMI low
How to fix an ailing LCMS, HPLC, Autoclave, etc. etc. etc.
Mad microfluidics skillz
A whole lot of stuff about drug metabolism and the liver that is not easy to summarize into a 30 second elevator spiel and still leaves me helpless and pathetic at cocktail parties when kind people ask me, "So what is it you study?"

What I still haven't figured out:

How to read a scientific journal article efficiently
Why the hell technical writing has to be so impenetrable
How to work hard and well when I feel intensely negatively about myself and my task
Why engineers are so antisocial (no offense)
Why grad students have to cut each other down all the time -- we'd all do much better if we helped elevate and support one another
What it is that makes professors hate each other so much
Why grad students aren't protected by any of the labor laws outlined by our society or by any of the student guidelines afforded undergrads
How to finish my goddamn thesis

I'll never solve most of these mysteries. If spite and misery were liquids, they would flow from the taps of my building, and maybe that would explain some of the interpersonal misery that goes on around me every day -- spiteful, contaminated misery water. As for the students' rights, I've been working on that for months and months, and I think I finally bugged the right person. They're getting us an ombudsman. That is a small start. At least now there's someone to talk to when you observe gross abuse of a fellow grad students.

The one mystery I absolutely need to solve is #8. And I'm pretty sure it starts with

STOP PROCRASTINATING!

Lauren

2011-07-05T10:27:00.003-04:00

This is Lauren Astley as I remember her. This is a long post. If you want the short story, skip to the break.

Lauren was my practice baby. Of the dozens of children I have cared for over the years, Lauren was always the most special. She was an only child and a doll! Sweet, happy, fun, and absolutely adorable. I started as her sitter when she was about four years old. Maybe a little younger. We played games. We read books. We drew pictures. We indulged in all sorts of things her parents would rather have sheltered her from -- like the Disney princesses. "Draw me all the princesses!" She'd plead. Her parents gritted their teeth (much as I will with Elsie), and rationalized that their babysitter was probably a good enough strong female role model to off-set the psychological damage of a whole army of princesses.

At night, in the summer, Lauren would beg to stay up just a little later as the evening sun shown brightly through her window. I'd placate her with one or two extra silly stories about her kangaroo -- who was always bouncing Lauren off on the most extraordinary adventures. And once or twice, I let her come outside to watch the fireflies twinkling along the edge of the woods.

The Astleys took Sunday night as date night every week for years and years with very few exceptions. I always looked forward to my Sunday evening duties. Lauren was such a joy of a child. Even after I graduated and went off to Smith, passing these weekly games to another worthy sitter, I still tried to see Lauren every summer when I was home. I danced with her at my wedding. Though older, Lauren was still petite, and I swung her around like mad just as I had done in her kitchen for all those years of Sunday nights.

A few weeks ago, Lauren and her dad came to meet Elsie. It had been a long time since my last visit. Lauren had just graduated from high school. She was stunning. Still slight, tan, freckled, blond, with a great big smile. She made a beautiful young woman. She and her father were returning the dollhouse I had given Lauren. They wanted Elsie to have it, complete with all of Lauren's artful redecorating. Lauren was working a job she hated at the mall. I encouraged her to try to find some babysitting instead, and we agreed that, sometime soon, she'd come over and watch Elsie so that my whole family could go out for a nice dinner together. I was thrilled that my little Lauren would be Elsie's babysitter. I knew that Lauren would love Elsie much the way I loved Lauren. Like a little sister.

***************************************

This has been a very hard weekend for me. I learned yesterday evening that Lauren had gone missing the previous night. A body turned up in our home town. I couldn't get any further than her name in the news. Lauren Astley, missing. I closed the browser and enlisted the help of friends to read the articles and tell me the news. Here's what I know: Lauren is dead. Murdered. Her boyfriend has been arrested.

This is the hardest news I have ever had to hear. I can't even watch news stories about strangers being murdered or kidnapped, their happy teenage faces shining off of "missing" posters. I have to change the channel. Only this time, it's not a stranger. This time, it's Lauren.

They always say good things about those who die too soon. Well, it's not just words. Lauren was and remains one of the best people I've ever known. She was kind and fun and she shone with a light I was lucky enough to bask in all those years. She brought me and many others so, so much joy. I love her like a sister. I miss her like a sister.

The Expert

2011-06-21T15:58:00.006-04:00

When I last wrote, I was in the throes of panic, worried that I had somehow caused my latest miscarriage by having a D&C -- or worse! -- rendered myself infertile. I pieced together enough internet fodder to fuel the fires of that fixation and, when I discovered that one of the world experts for dealing with consequences of D&C scarring works right here in the Boston area, I called his office, poured out my list of worries, and made an appointment.

When I cooled down a bit, I read all those scary articles a little closer and realized that I do not have any of the major symptoms of Asherman's Syndrome beyond multiple miscarriages. I felt silly and thought about calling to cancel my appointment.

"Keep it." Said Hub. "If it really was stupid to make this appointment, the nurse wouldn't have asked you to book it."

"Keep it." Said my friend. "It will set your mind at ease."

That is how, this morning, bright and early, I found myself in the waiting room of Minimally Invasive Gynecological Surgery -- a very different kind of GYN office than I am used to. Instead of the piles of magazines full of glossy pictures of beautiful children and scads of terrible parenting advice, there was only a single book on the coffee table: Surviving Infertility.

I hesitated over the box that gave permission for med students to take part in my care. I am uncomfortable with the idea. I know a too many med students to trust their care, but love enough of them to feel guilty saying, "Practice on someone else." I ticked my permission and introduced to Dr. 1 and Dr. 2, both conspicuously my junior. Like most of my previous experiences with med students, they devoted a lot of attention to checking lists, not wanting to forget anything important.

Dr. I, the high-profile expert, is quiet and kind. He recommended a pelvic ultrasound -- the one where they put the scope in your vagina, and move it around as though you were a gear shift. The two students had the honors. Dr. I was there too, and an ultrasound technician. One of the perky young students drove, clumsily, and everyone stared intently at the screen. I watched Dr. I. My heart skipped a beat as grimaces flickered across his face. Something must be wrong.

And it was, but not with me. He was fighting the urge to intercept the wand and manipulate it more efficiently and gently himself. He succumbed, just for a moment, then, once more, forfeited the helm to the younger doctor.

"You look good." Dr. I briefed me. "No fibroids. Your ovaries are great. 8 mm thick lining, so we can't do a scope and look for scarring today. Call on the first day of your next period and schedule that appointment." He was cautious, but reassuring. "I expect to find that it is fine, but won't know until then."

I felt relieved. I felt like a drama queen. He looked as though he was preparing to leave, so I swallowed hard and asked the one question I came prepared to ask of the world expert in cleaning up the ravages of D&Cs gone wrong.

"You know," I started, and all eyes were on me, lying on the table under that stupid paper blanket, legs in stirrups, the human joystick "I agonized over the D&C. I waited a month to miscarry naturally, but I didn't, and waiting was just too hard. It drove me crazy. Eventually I had the D&C for my mental health. But then, with the next miscarriage, it brought back all that worry, and I just wanted to ask: when should a woman have a D&C, and when should she not?"

"You didn't do anything wrong." He said. "A D&C was a reasonable and good thing to do at that point. In the first trimester, the chances of getting scarring are low, under 3%. In later term D&Cs and post-childbirth D&Cs that the risk is much higher, 40%. But yours was early and not risky. It was a good choice."

I have counseled other women about their miscarriages in the past months. They're always worried, "Was it that coffee I drank? That glass of wine? That time I went for a run? Or had sex? Or fell down? Or that I cried with fear when I saw my two lines? Did I just not want it badly enough?"

I tell them, "No. No no no! You know in your heart that you would have done anything for a healthy baby. When we lose something, we want to be able to explain it away. We want to place blame, even if it means placing it on ourselves. But sometimes there's no blame to be placed, no sense to be made. Sometimes things just happen. And it's not your fault. You did nothing to make this happen. It was just bad luck."

That is what I needed to hear from Dr. I, and that is just what he told me.

Update

2011-06-07T17:07:00.003-04:00

Thank you, all, for the kind words this last week.

This miscarriage is a lot easier, emotionally, than my last one. I think it's a simple matter of how invested I was. With my first miscarriage, I was so pregnant. I was so sick, and I felt that pregnancy so strongly. I was ultra pregnant. When I found out that I was empty, I just had to wait and wait and wait.

This time, things went quickly and smoothly and naturally. I felt a little pregnant at first, then not at all within a few weeks. Hormone-wise, I feel back to myself again already.

I met my midwife and loved her. She took blood, and they tell me my HCG levels are low, as they should be. I'll give another sample next week.

I am doing far better than I expected.

It is spring time. My daughter is perfect. My marriage is strong. My garden is blooming. And I am learning patience. Slowly.

I don't know where I ever got the idea that I could plan my family. It isn't working out that way, and I am practicing letting go.

Internet Hypochondria

2011-06-07T16:08:00.004-04:00

Have you ever gone online to look up something and ended up deciding, after reading off of MAYO or WebMD or somewhere, "Oh man, I must have cancer!" ... Or AIDS. Or MS. Or something else terrible, when really you just have poison ivy.

I'm in that cycle of thinking right now.

After my D&C, Dr. F told me to wait for 2 periods before I got pregnant again. I did this. I used condoms and I charted my fertility every day so that I'd be ready to go after two periods. I know that I wasn't pregnant during that time.

On the first day of my second period, I passed this lump of gray tissue, about 1" wide and 2" long. I felt it slide through and ran to the bathroom to see what it was. Nothing that size could slip past my cervix without me noticing. It was like laying a small egg.

Long story short, I double bagged it and tossed it in the freezer in case it had to be tested later. (You can take the scientist out of the lab, but you can't take the lab out of the scientist.) Then I called my nurse on duty who didn't think it was a big deal, and went on with my life. The lump is still in my freezer, which is both gross and oddly reassuring -- and now none of you ever want to eat at my house again. Sorry t0 ruin it like that.

You know the rest of this story. I got pregnant. I miscarried. I worried about my fertility.

Talking to my midwife reassured me. She says she has seen women through thousands of miscarriages, and that it's common for women to miscarry twice in a row. She recommended waiting three periods before trying again, and if I have a third consecutive miscarriage, taking the trip over to Boston IVF for testing. She'd support testing right now if it would set me at ease, but thinks that, with a healthy daughter, I'll probably be okay next time.

But I am neurotic, and that stupid gray lump is nagging me. Is it related to the D&C? Is it related to the miscarriage? What the heck was it?

Much googling of "passing gray tissue" has turned up only "miscarriage." But "multiple miscarriages" brought me to the Asherman's Syndrome website. Asherman's Syndrome is when you get scarring of the deep endometrium during a D&C or other procedure. It is, according to their sources, way, way more common than I thought. It causes serious problems like miscarriages, still births, and placenta issues like the placenta growing over the cervix or growing into the scars and deep into the walls of the uterus. It's very bad news.

I don't even have the symptoms of AS. I get my periods. They're plenty heavy and plenty long. But after reading words like adhesions, scar tissue, and fibroids, I can't shake this idea that maybe, just maybe, my gray lump was a fibroid. Maybe my uterus is full of them. Maybe this is going to make for even worse problems down the road.

I know how stupid this sounds. I am guilty of ill-informed internet diagnosis. I just wish that I could find one other woman who has passed a gray lump that was not a miscarriage and ask her what happened next.

If you know anybody like this, please send her my way!

UPDATE: I was so nervous I called my old GYN who is no longer an OB. She said it doesn't sound like AS, that with AS I probably wouldn't have gotten pregnant at all because there's not very much uterine lining for implantation. But it might be fibroids, so I should get an ultrasound once my miscarriage is all over. She sounded like this could be a problem, but it probably wasn't the worst-case scenario, so that's something of a relief.

and Try and Try and Try Again

2011-05-30T07:54:00.003-04:00

I wake in drawers of scarlet. They were light blue the night before. I undress and filled the bathroom sink with cold water to soak the underwear. Maybe it can be salvaged. I have to work the stopper by hand. When did that break? Probably year ago. It joins the long list of little things that I ought to fix. Someday.

I go downstairs to tell Hub, "I don't think it's going to work out this time."

"Implantation bleeding?" He asks. I shake my head. "You bled with Elsie, too."

"Not like this."

The first clot is slippery and warm, soft and the size of a plum. It passes into the toilet, the way most of them will. There's no cramping. That all happened the day before. Now it's just the occasional sharp twinge when a clot squeezes past my cervix and I run to the bathroom to let it slide into the toilet. At some point, I started trying to catch these clots, to see if I could find the small, clear gestational sack or any gray tissue of a placenta. At some point, I gave up and just took a quick glance into the bowl before flushing. No gray tissue yet. Plenty of blood.

This morning, just to be sure, just to drive myself crazy, I take my temperature. 98.2. That's post-ovulation levels or menstruation levels. Not as high as pregnancy levels. I take the urine test. It's still positive, but my line is fainter than it was last week.

So that's that. A second miscarriage. Very different from the first. Early and quick and natural. Beats later and drawn out and invasive, like last time. This time I feel my anxiety for my fertility much more strongly than the loss itself. I think the number is 3 miscarriages before they send you for all sorts of tissue tests and fertility screening. I'm one shy, but already feeling like damaged goods.

There will be followup to this. HCG blood tests and possibly an ultrasound. Still a chance of a D&C. That will all start next week. That's how I'll get to meet my midwife.

If At First You Don't Succeed...

2011-05-27T12:14:00.005-04:00

That's right. It's time.

I'm still carrying an extra few lbs from my failed pregnancy last winter, and I don't have my thesis in hand yet, but you really can't put your best and most important part of your life on hold for a few pounds of insulation and the most miserable job you've ever had, can you?

There are a few things I want to do differently this time. I'm not talking about the last pregnancy -- obviously I don't want to miscarry again -- I'm thinking of Elsie's pregnancy.

This time, I am a little older and a LOT more knowledgeable than I was with Elsie. I won't read so voraciously. I won't share as many details, because they won't feel so noteworthy. This time, I want midwife care. This time, I want to stay out of the hospital if I possibly can.

I know how strange and alarming that is going to sound for a lot of my readers. I would have been transferred several times over during Elsie's childbirth, first for meconium, second, perhaps for pain/nausea relief, and third for hemorrhage. I'm sure I sound crazy to even mention it.

I've been doing my research and talking to experts. My new doctor (just a GP, not an OB) fully supports homebirth, so he's on board. I've been in touch with a midwife who tells me that she thinks I'm an excellent candidate for homebirth. She says that one hemorrhage makes me a little more likely to have another, but there were two really big risk markers in my first birth: a very long labor (~25 hrs), and the fact that my OB yanked the placenta out by the umbilical chord, as almost all OBs do. Long labor exhausts your uterus and makes it slower to heal, and yanking the placenta is more likely to leave pieces in or tear from the walls of the uterus. She thinks that with my next baby, it will likely be an entirely different experience with shorter labor, and if I let the placenta deliver naturally, that will help matters. Worst case scenario, remember the catheter, suppositories and pitocin? That's all int he midwife's tackle box. homebirth CNMs come equip with all the drugs and IVs and fluids needed to get a handle on bleeding in your living room while the ambulance is on the way.

Why so against the hospital? You might ask. Better safe than sorry! Yes, I see that. I just also have this strong memory of the way I felt when I got to the hospital. My contractions stayed the same frequency and length for hours and hours and hours, but upon walking into that delivery room, they got much, much harder for me to deal with. It was nerves. Hospitals make me nervous. They make me want to crawl out of my skin. Laboring at home was an entirely different experience. A far better experience.

Hub is not on board with the homebirth idea. He experienced my labor, delivery, and emergency quite differently than I did. He wants to come out of this with a healthy and intact family, and so do I. While I might feel great at home, he would not feel safe.

So we compromise. Midwife care is a must, so long as I don't risk out. I was so sick of obstetrics by the time I reached full term with Elsie. I liked my own OB, but was often shuffled into the hands of other less sensible OBs in the practice, for whom fear of litigation (rather than evidence-based medicine) drove health-care decisions. Expensive and invasive measures were often offered up before easier alternatives. Inaction was unthinkable. Everything was an "emergency." I don't feel safe or well-cared-for in hands like those.

We have a few good intermediate options around Boston: two birthing centers (Cambridge and North Shore), and one hospital that works with midwives (Mt. Auburn). I'm looking into the birthing centers.

It's a strange place to start your thinking about having a baby: with the birth itself. It's ages away. The only guarantee about childbirth is that it will be full of surprises. Why on earth would you start here? That is just the way we fly in America. First matter of business is to choose your care provider. That choice will determine how things go at the bitter end. Do you want to deliver in a hospital? Teaching hospital or not? City or suburb? Do you feel safe with your local options? Do you want to deliver at home? Birthing center? Natural hospital birth? Then there are those other questions: do you have insurance? What does it cover? What can you afford? Without insurance, homebirth might be your only affordable option. With it, in a bizarre contrast, hospital birth might be the only choice you can afford.

It's very overwhelming to the primip. I guess my only words of wisdom here are these: you can always change your mind. People do it all the time. Don't let decorum prevent you from getting a provider whom you can trust. And don't assume that a hospital is the best place to have a baby. It depends on the birth, it depends on the baby, it depends on the culture of the specific hospital, and it depends on the providers on duty that night. Living in Boston and being well-insured, I am lucky to have many good options. Not everyone does.

I remember feeling completely confused and alone when I tried to track down my OB during the most emotional period of Elsie's pregnancy. I'm a very different kind of patient now than I was then. Thank goodness!

Suddenly, She Can!

2011-05-25T16:08:00.003-04:00

I wrote in my guest blog about being a mom, about how spending time with Elsie makes me forget the way things were a year or a month or even a week ago, and roots me to the present. What can she do today?

Today Elsie can climb up as many stairs as you put in front of her, but she can only get back down the very bottom one. That's one more than she could do before. Today she can bring me a book and tell me "Read it!" She can feed herself, messily. She answers "no" as though it meant, "I recognize that you just asked me a question!" Today Elsie may whine and cry and stomp her feet if she does not get her way, but when she's in a better mood, she'll bring me a flower and point out, "pretty colors." Today she will say, "I love you" unprompted, and give me many kisses, "Mwah muah muah!"

I don't remember exactly when she started doing all these recent things. Last night she did something that completely blew me away!

Hub put her to bed in her sleepsack, but he left it open, because it was so hot in her room. A few minutes later, she let out a scream, so I went up to check on her. I found her entangled in her sleep sack, hot and sweaty, so I removed it altogether and let her fall asleep in only a t-shirt. I planned to cover her with blankets before going to bed myself, as the temperature drops at night. I left a soft wool blanket hanging from the head of the crib.

Later, I returned to her room, cracking the door and listening to her quiet breath before sneaking in to cover her up. I found her snuggled up in her blanket already, warm and cozy.

I asked Hub, "Did you sneak in and cover her already?"

"No." He said, "I haven't been up there since I put her to bed."

So that's it. She got cold, found her blanket, knew what to do with it even though we almost never put her to sleep with a traditional blanket. She wrapped her little self up in it just like the little bear in her bedtime story, and fell sweetly asleep.

On Crying: Sleep

2011-05-24T16:00:00.005-04:00

We've all heard the horror stories of Eastern European orphanages where they let the infants cry for hours and hours on end with no soothing, no contact, no human interaction. These children come home to their adoptive parents, who then must face the devastating realization that their child is broken and will never feel love or human attachment. That kind of neglect is abuse. It is horrific in its execution and repercussions, and I take it very seriously. But that is not what this post is about.

This post is about well-loved children from healthy, stimulating households occasionally being left to work through some tears on their own for a matter of minutes to hours. So many parents are afraid of this healthy process. Maybe it's a tantrum. Maybe it's protest crying. Maybe it's legit loneliness or anxiety. Whatever the cause, this kind of episodic crying will not harm your baby. In fact, I feel that it's necessary for proper development. Wouldn't you be a little concerned if you could prevent all of your baby's tears? It would be weird and probably mean a developmental problem.

But MOM! *pout*

I am a strong proponent of cry-it-out methods for a number of applications. First and foremost, sleep! Why so gung-ho? Because sleep is important for your baby and for you, and because crying it out works and no-cry methods don't. I know what you're thinking, "But every baby is DIFFERENT!" and it is true. And that is why no-cry methods work for some babies -- those of easy temperament and independent nature. But that method shouldn't be called no-cry, it should be called just have an easy baby, and you'll be all set! There is still a small subset of moms in my circle who are desperately trying to avoid crying as they go on their second and third year of continuous sleepless nights. "We've tried that Ferberizing" they say, "but it just isn't our baby's style." Upon further extraction of detail, they explain that what they really mean is that they, the parents, gave up after just a matter of minutes and decided it was too cruel to continue, never actually applying the method at all. Not that it wasn't for their child, but that it wasn't for them.

It isn't that I need them to do things my way. If they were happy with their lot, I'd say, "good!" and be happy for them. But just as you'd expect from someone so perpetually and eternally exhausted, they're miserable and they complain incessantly about it. I want so much to help them, but I can't tell them anything they don't already know and are choosing to ignore. I don't want to sound callous or spiteful, I sympathize! After all, I chose to listen to Elsie cry herself to sleep at 5 or 6 months. It was excruciating. I had to go out for a walk while Hub manned the house. I had to get in the shower to drown out the noise and bring my blood pressure down. I had to buy earplugs. This is the opposite of emotionally intuitive parenting, it is grueling. But emotions are not the only part of our intuition worth considering. We also have reason, and sometimes we ought to let reason win.

Children are incredibly smart, but they are not incredibly verbal. Picture living in another country where you are not fluent. You still understand a lot from gestures and tone, but no amount of somber conversation will convey a complex idea. You have to get it from context. For your baby, when you come in after 10 minutes of crying you're saying, "you have to cry for 10 minutes to get me to change my mind about this bedtime thing." If you come in after 45 minutes, you're saying, "If you're REALLY persistent in her tears, I'll change my mind." If she works herself into such a raged frenzy that she pukes and then you come in and treat her as though she had the stomach flu with cuddles and "my poor sick baby!" then you're sending a really messed-up message... "If you make yourself sick from screaming, I'll treat you like a princess and you can have whatever you want." That may sound extreme, but it's totally normal fare for 2-4-year-olds who have learned manipulation and tantrum like a fine art instead of independence. It's not something that they tend to outgrow on their own. I had a 16-year-old on my dive team who used to quietly hold her breath until she passed out for the attention.

So instead of going in with cuddles and kisses and sending all sorts of weird messages, you wait it out. Here's what you are saying instead:

"It's really bedtime now. This time is not for cuddling or laughing or playing. This time is for sleeping."

"I believe in you. You are strong and capable and more independent than you realize. I know that you can go to sleep on your own."

"Sleep is important. I value it enough to make you learn it."

"It's okay. You know I would come in if there was something really wrong."

I believe that there is no more straightforward way to say it than to let her figure it out for herself.

When there's a strong foundation of love in a family, it goes without saying. Your child feels loved whether or not you are there. She feels loved when she is laughing and she feels loved when she is crying. You have to have at least this much faith in your parenting: that you make your love known, that you make it an assumption. And you have to have at least enough faith in your child to realize that she is fully capable of calming down without you and robust and resilient enough that one night (or a week of nights) crying will not harm her spirit. She is not fragile; she is strong.

And what do you get for all of your trouble? One very happy baby and one very happy mommy in the morning, every morning!

Summoned

2011-05-19T09:57:00.003-04:00

Every day there's something new. This morning, it was Elsie calling for us from her crib. She wakes between 6:00 and 7:00 every morning. She then babbles to herself for a little while, up to a half an hour before she starts getting irritable. Today, Elsie woke the later side, which was good! Hub and I were lying groggy in bed when we heard her call:

"Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy... Daddy!"

*beat*

"Oats!"

Girl knows what she wants!

Sympto Thermal

2011-05-16T15:32:00.004-04:00

A long time ago, I looked into natural birth control for a question on my advice blog. I found the statistics impressive. Far better than the traditional calendar (rhythm) method. Interest piqued, I read a book on the subject, Taking Charge of Your Fertility. I was fascinated to find that even a well-informed and self-actualized 28-year-old mom still has a lot to learn about the workings of the female body.

After Elsie was born, I kept missing my pill time. Eventually, I gave up, deciding that it wasn't worth taking a progesterone-only pill if I was going to take it badly. (Progesterone-only bc is much more susceptible to variations in timing than combination hormone bc.) For a great many months, I was effectively celibate anyway. Low estrogen levels are no good for libido or sexual pleasure.

As soon as I got my period and sex-drive back, I started charting. Here's how it's supposed to work:

The Egg:
When a woman ovulates, that egg is viable for less than 24 hours. You want to avoid having sex for at least 48 hours after your first egg is released, just in case there is a second egg.

The sperm:
Most of my sources say that sperm lives for 3 days inside a hospitable vagina. Some sources say up to 5 days. Your goal, if using fertility awareness method (FAM) is to avoid harboring viable sperm when you ovulate.

Temperature:
You take your basal body temperature every morning when you wake up, before you move around, and mark it on a chart. Once you've ovulated, your hormones shift and your body temperature rises a few tenths of a degree. When you see this plateau in your basal temp, you know your egg is laid. You're infertile after this, through the first 5 days of your period. Your fertility is then low until you start showing symptoms of your next round of fertility, like...

Cervical position:
When you're nowhere near ovulation, your cervix is low in your vagina and hard and closed. Go on, reach up there and feel around for it! As your body prepares for ovulation, the cervix gets higher, softer, and literally opens to allow sperm to pass through.

Cervical Fluid:
Also known by that much yuckier sounding title, "discharge." Your body lays out the welcome mat (or pile of welcome goo) for all those little swimmers. Usually, the vagina is quite hostile to sperm. As ovulation approaches, this all changes. The cervix produces lots of slippery, stretchy, egg-white-like fluid that is very easy for sperm to live in and swim through. You can test it with your finger, feeling either at the vaginal opening or up at the cervix. There's a progression from dry (infertile) to sticky or crumbly (probably not fertile) to lotiony (maybe fertile) to slippery and stretchy (very fertile). Fertile CF is not water soluble, so you might even see it in the toilet after you pee.

My Experience:

All this is wonderful in theory. Chart your temps! Feel your cervix! Squish your juices! Write it down. Presto! A pattern will emerge! In practice, it was not at all so simple for me.

If your basal temperature is sensitive to changes, there are many things you can do to risk out of temperature reliability. For instance:

Going to bed late
Waking up late
Waking up early
Waking up at night to go to the bathroom (disturbance)
Not sleeping well for any reason
Drinking alcohol (even one drink)
Having a cold
Having a fever

I appear to be very susceptible to all these factors. Some months, the ovulation jump was clear as day, but most months took a bit of creative interpretation. I'm a grad student: I lie awake worrying about my stupid thesis all the time. I'm a mom: I get up when Elsie gets up, and some mornings that's 6:00, but if it's 7:00, you'd better believe I'm sleeping until she wakes me. My temps were all over the place.

Then there's my cervix. I think my fingers are too short. And my cervix moves around. And the opening? How open is open? My cervix was all over the place, and often beyond the reach of my stubby little fingers. So much for that sign.

Cervical fluid should be the most obvious sign of impending fertility. Not for me! Where is it? I don't have much, so I have to reach all the way up to that evasive cervix to get it. Some months, from the end of my period through the entire month was the same every day. I never got anything that stretched in the least, except for a stray gob here and there.

It's little wonder that we got pregnant accidentally back in October using this method. Quickly, too. Much sooner than we got pregnant actively trying for Elsie.

"You're not very good at this, are you?" Was all Hub had to say, chuckling at me. And he's right. I am not very good at it at all!

I did learn a lot, though. Best of all, I've got a much better handle on how to get pregnant on purpose. I doubt I'll ever have to try for months and months and months again. I know I'm ovulating, which is reassuring after my miscarriage and D&C.

I do NOT recommend FAM as birth control for anyone

Is not in a monogamous relationship
Has poor self-control
CAN NOT get pregnant right now
Has an irregular night and/or morning schedule
Drinks alcohol more than once a week

I would recommend FAM for anyone who

Is trying to get pregnant or has gone off the pill and will try soon
Is using a non-hormonal bc (like condoms or abstinence) and just wants to learn more about her cycle
Is trying to space children but doesn't really mind so much if there's a surprise
Has super obvious and easy-to-read symptoms
Has the support of a professional FAM coach to double check everything
Has no other birth control options (Probably doesn't apply to you if you're sitting at a computer and reading this blog!)

Oh, and you'd better count on those sperm living for 5 days. 6, even. That's the only way my chart from last October makes sense. Hub must have super-sperm!

Guest Blog

2011-05-13T16:32:00.001-04:00

I wrote an article for "The Other Baby Book" month of mothering. Check it out!

http://www.theotherbabybook.com/other-baby-blog.php

Mother's Day

2011-05-10T08:26:00.004-04:00

In honor of Mother's Day (belated because I was having too much fun with my daughter, mother, and Grandmama), a post I wrote as part of a guest blogging event. The one they actually selected will go up later this week, and I will post a link.

For now, this one:

Babysitting doesn't prepare you for motherhood.

I've heard that about a thousand times before. Every time someone would ask me over my swollen belly, was I nervous? I'd smile that zen, pregnant smile and say, "no."

Between a full babysitting career and a few years of high school teaching, I'd done it before. I had changed diapers, kissed boo boos, and served up dinners in bite-sized pieces. I had weathered public tantrums and broken up fights. I had taught children to draw, to make music, and to swim. I had taught teens about everything from relativity to sex. I had held out fingers for pudgy little hands while pudgy little legs made their very tenuous early steps. I had helped to potty train a half a dozen two-year-olds and two four-year-olds (one stubborn, the other autistic and non-verbal). I had comforted a 15-year-old boy who was so sick he soiled his pants. I had chased hellions with my last oz of energy. I had felt the frustration of the terrible twos (or threes, or fours), the tenderness of a tiny two-month-old, the hilarity of talkative four-year-olds, and the enthusiasm of fired-up teenagers.

Babysitting did prepare me for motherhood in many, many ways. It's great practice, and a wonderful introduction to different parenting styles. Babysitting prepared me for setting clear boundaries, respecting schedules, offering consistency, being patient and gentle, and trusting in the capability and resilience of children. Babysitting taught me to be a rational mother.

But babysitting did not teach me everything. Most importantly, babysitting did not prepare me for bonding. None of the children I ever worked with was so completely an extension of myself -- so completely my own. I used to ask my own mother,

"What if I don't love my baby enough? What if she drives me nuts?" My mom would smile and reassure me,

"You'll love her."

I am lucky that she was right. Loving Elsie is effortless and automatic. It is such a very special thing to be so close to someone so dear, to snuggle her tight, to nurse her, skin-on-skin, to make her laugh, to feel her grow heavy as she falls asleep in my arms. To watch every step she takes with delight. Nothing prepared me for that. It was the very best kind of surprise!

Another thing my mom always says is this, "Being a mother taught me just how much my mother loves ME!" She's a wise woman! Motherhood gave me an idea of just how much love there must be in the world! <3

Safety

2011-04-20T10:47:00.004-04:00

I love questions from readers! Sparks me to write another post by giving me a starting point.

My dear friend writes:

I saw this http://blogs.wsj.com/juggle/2011/04/19/keeping-up-with-kid-safety-advice/ and thought of my favorite sane young mother. What's a sane young or prospective mom to do about all the changing baby safety guidance? Inquiring readers want to know ;)

The link (for those who don't click it) is an article lamenting the constantly changing, ever-stricter, I-can't-believe-you'd-put-your-child-in-harms-way-the-way-everybody-did-one-year-[decade, generation, day, etc.]-ago-you-monster world of keeping our children safe.

SAFETY! Safety. safety.

Never has one parenting topic been, at once, both so completely important and so completely full of rubbish.

I have a philosophy on baby safety, and it's one that requires constant reassessment and reassigning of boundaries. That is to say, you couldn't turn it into a list of bullets and hand it out at a pediatrician's appointment. Well, you could, but it would be vague. Something like this:

Parents ought to be attentive to their children.
Household safety should be custom-fitted for the specific child we wish to protect. If you know your child well, you'll know where the greatest risks lie.
The MOST important part of keeping your children safe is simply paying attention.
Parents should be aware of risks and should prioritize, mortal peril at one end, a few tender tears at the other.
You should not stifle your child's exploration of this world and development of mobility unnecessarily.
You should set limits and boundaries to keep your child safe. Limits and boundaries are part of being an effective parent anyway, so look at it as good practice.

It is not black and white. You have to weigh your risks and draw your lines, and we are all going to draw them somewhat differently. In my circle of upper-middle-class, highly-educated, suburban, first-timer mom friends (do we have an acronym yet?), I am probably the most liberal in my willingness to adapt or ignore current recommendations from the pediatricians. In other settings, it might be different. Mine is a particularly paranoid community.

First, let me start with things I am VERY mindful about safety-wise, the mortal peril and serious injury threats:

No open electrical sockets -- Elsie loves little crevices like that
Any window she can lean on is locked -- like the one behind her changing table. If I have to open it, I open the top part that she can't reach.
I never, ever leave Elsie in the bath -- when you see your baby slip in the bath that first time, when you see her big, surprised eyes staring up at you from under a couple inches of water, you'll never leave her in the bath either, it's terrifying how quickly it can happen. No harm done if you're there to scoop her up right away, your worst nightmare if you're not. Pool safety is equally important. Pools kill more kids than guns every year.
In dangerous situations, we watch her and shadow her closely -- Near cars, near the tops of stairs, etc.
We don't let pot handles or knives hang over the edge of the counter where she might reach them
We avoided chocking hazard foods until she had teeth -- and keep an eye out for anything that might pose a choking hazard in her environment
We say "No!" to other hazards that come up -- like chewing on electrical wires, wandering off of the sidewalk, and opening cupboards that contain hazards

We also follow many of the current recommendations simply because they fit. For instance:

Wearable blankets -- Elsie tosses and turns a great deal. I'm not afraid of the hazards of a blanket or a quilt for her at this point, but the zip-up blankets are the only ones that keep her warm all night long
Rear-facing car seat -- She's a petite girl and doesn't seem to mind crowded legs. It's shown to be safer. I'm keeping her rear facing until it becomes impractical.
As an infant, she slept on her back -- She COULD sleep on her back, so we put her to sleep on her back. There is statistically significant data to say it reduces chance of SIDS, so we did it. And she got a flat, bald head for a little while, but it bounced back. If she had been colicy, and sleeping on her tummy was the only way she'd sleep at all... that would have been another story. But back-sleeping fit, so we did it.

There's also a lot of current recommendation that doesn't fit. A whole lot.

I do not believe in the idea of baby-proofing my home. First of all, inherent in the term "baby-proof" is a false sense of security. You could have every drawer padlocked and every chair chained to the table and every doorway gated fast, and ever corner padded and you would still be at high risk (in my opinion) of a serious accident if you weren't paying attention. There's no such thing as baby-proof. Second of all, a kid's got to learn about risks and limits. I feel that baby-proofing is basically trying to take away all situations in which you'd have to step in and set limits for your child. I don't think that's healthy for the parent or the baby. Rules can be as effective as gates. They just take more energy on the part of the parent, but it's worth the investment. Firm and clear limits help keep a child safe in a wide variety of situations, not just your kitchen.

Here are some ways in which we do not adhere to current recommendations:

Gates -- That's not to say that I think baby gates are silly. They're a great, great tool. We don't happen to use one, but in a different house, or with a different child, we would. It's just the layout of our house and the temperament of our child. We don't need them. Our only gate protects the rugs so that Elsie doesn't pee on them during nakey-bum time.
Latches -- We don't use them, but I know some babies for whom we absolutely would have to. Maybe someday we will. For now, a hair elastic around the handles slows her down enough that I have time to swoop in, remove her, and say, "No. Not for Elsie!
Blankets -- We may use wearable blankets every night, but we use them for some naps, and at daycare, Elsie gets blankets, and has since she was an infant.
Crib -- Oh, this one's going to make me sound like a terrible mother with all the recent press. We have a drop-side crib. Just like every other crib that was in use for several decades of babies before it was outlawed. I tighten the bolts on it every couple of months, but I have not yet drilled its drop-side into place. I just don't think it is a threat to my particular child. She's not a climber.
Crib bumper -- Elsie never got herself so stuffed into her bumper that I feared for her breathing. But she did get her limbs stuck uncomfortably between the slats. After extricating her several times in the early months, the bumpers went back on.
Mobile -- I understand that this could be a hazard, so maybe I will raise it higher, but again, Elsie is not the girl who has to strip everything she can touch out of boredom. She's really very happy to sit and babble to herself in the morning.
Appliance locks -- I need to get into my refrigerator one-handed enough to make this one ridiculous and impractical. Same for utensil drawers, dish washer, and oven. Watch your kid when you're cooking. You don't have to have your eye on her every moment, but just make sure you have a sense of where she is. If you have the kind of kid who gets into trouble fast, think playpen for cooking times.
Doorknob Covers -- Again, depends on your kid. Depends on your house. We don't need this yet.
Padding

Padding corners is one that I actually feel strongly against. My Grandmama once said, as Elsie learned how to crawl and walk, "I wish the world were made out of rubber for babies." Elsie took a tumble off of our front step last week, her first real fall. As I saw her perfect little head hit asphalt in the slow-motion of a terrible moment, I wished it was made out of rubber instead. But if the world were made out of rubber, then babies would never bump their heads, and if that world turned into a hard, sharp world for an older child, she would never have learned to navigate it safely. So Elsie got an egg on her head, we both got an adrenaline rush, and I got to make the ashamed call to the pedi to ask if we had to come in (we did not) -- but, most importantly we both learned something about limits.

Mortal peril vs. tender tears. A fall can be either. I fell off my bike when I was 8, and I have a scar on my knee from it. No big deal. My first boyfriend took a spill mountain biking when he was 15. He broke his neck and has been quadriplegic ever since. There's a lot of luck involved -- statistics, if you're less fatalistic. So you do your very best to protect against the worst falls, and you steel yourself for some of the smaller, but still scary and painful stumbles, because the freedom that lets kids fall is what builds strong, coordinated, healthy kids. A kid who trips and scrapes her knee is a kid who is experiencing the world to its fullest.

Then, to a certain extent, you just swallow hard and pray that your child is a lucky child.

I don't mean to make people who are more safety-conscious sound like crazy people. Everyone wants to protect your baby, and that's a wonderful thing. That, in itself, makes the world safer for children. It's just that you can't baby-proof the world. And if you could, would you really want to? I don't think it's irresponsible to say, "no."

Weekend Away

2011-04-14T14:09:00.004-04:00

Scroll down for more pics

We took a trip this past weekend, out to Smith. I was to give a presentation at a physics alumnae weekend -- a duty I signed on for during my job application process. I wanted Hub and Elsie to join me for the adventure of it and so that I could introduce them to my wonderful professors.

Elsie did great. She had to miss most of her nap on Saturday, but she's in such a strong sleep schedule, that she was right back on track by bedtime. We had a lovey weekend. We brought the stroller, travel crib, lots of snacks, and a pack of disposables to make it a little easier. The weekend was spectacular. Spring has finally come to Massachusetts.

No pics of me doing my physics thing, unfortunately, but plenty of pics of Elsie being adorable! She enjoyed bouncing around on the pristine white sheets of the king-sized bed at the hotel as much as she seemed to enjoy her mountain-climbing (banks of Paradise Pond) and koi-watching (Lyman Plant House).

As for me, my presentation went great. I prepared a powerpoint, as requested. I loath powerpoint, not because I can't use it (I can), but because I think the format of a slide show separates the audience from the presenter. I think the technology gets in the way of the lecture.

Just my luck! The power was out. "Do you think you could give your talk on a blackboard?" they asked me. I was delighted to. And everyone was impressed! Worked out perfectly.

So good to see my old professors. Each one told me, in turn, that they were sorry it didn't work out with the job, but they thought my priorities were sound and they wished me well with further adventures in motherhood.

Smith is such a lovely place! The other alumnae were charming and wonderful. Some I knew, most I did not. Their updates and presentations were almost enough to cure me of my gradschool irritability and make me love science again. Almost. I don't think I'll really be able to love science again until my thesis is defended. Then, perhaps, I can get back in touch with these wonderful women and have them re-inspire me.

For all that was great about the event, my favorite moments were those stolen with my family, basking on the lawn, bouncing on the bed, and enjoying a beer OUT, which is a very rare occurrence these days. It was a wonderful, wonderful weekend. I am so happy that I went!

I know I've been doing mostly updates lately (they're easy), but I'm planning some more in-depth parenting posts in the near future. Stay tuned!

First things, first: unpacking. For Elsie, this means climbing into the suitcase.
What's in here?
Ooooo! Toothpaste! What a treasure!

Sunday morning, she woke very cheerful after a very good night's sleep. She slept far better than her parents did.

Hub and I actually hung out in the bathroom for a couple of hours so that we wouldn't keep Elsie up, I putting the finishing touches on my powerpoint presentation, and Hub reading about saving for college. We decided, next time, Elsie will sleep in the bathroom and we will hang in the bedroom. Then we made the most of it and had a bubble bath.

Koi! Hub reports that Elsie tried to climb into the reflecting pool several times in pursuit of the beautiful fish.

Intrepid climber, on the shores of Paradise Pond.

Picture Update, 16 mo

2011-04-05T14:02:00.005-04:00

It's about time! Scroll down and skip the chitchat if you're in it for the pictures.

I remember the early days, when I would take my tiny little newborn for a walk in her carseat-stroller, and every old woman would stop me, eyes brimming with tears, "These are the best days of your life!"

Wrong! I mean, those were great days. Having a newborn is very special. Once you got past the exhaustion and the hormones and the breastfeeding struggles and the stitches in the hoo-ha... great days. But these days are SO much better! One is where it's at. We sleep through the night every night. We laugh as a family at the same jokes. We enjoy meals of more mature taste (though admittedly white color-palate), Elsie runs around and gets excited when we come home. She calls us by name. She has more words than we currently recognize and babbles happily to herself much of the time. She rarely has temper tantrums (yet). It's great. And as much as I'd do the newborn thing again in a heartbeat to have another child, It's looking forward to ONE that will get me through those long nights.

So what's new? Forgive me if I repeat stuff in this update, but here's what Elsie's up to these days:

Thumb sucking and ponytail holding, at the same time! I used to really worry that thumb-sucking would destroy her mouth, but apparently it's too young to worry about it, so suck away, Miss Elsie! This is her favorite soothing move, and she pulls it out when she is tired, upset, overwhelmed, or just feeling shy.

We go for walks, and Elsie carries herself on her own two feet! "Shadow" is part of Elsie's vocabulary, which seems rather fitting for this picture.

She LOVES being tickled. When does tickling stop being fun and start being torture? Not sure, but we're not there yet.

Hair-do! She pulls bows out as soon as they're in, so I stick to one side-sprout ponytail most of the time. Daycare's another story. It's like a salon over there. She comes home with a new 'do every day.

Chattering is the new favorite pastime, but only around the inner circle. She's gotten very shy these days and says not a word around non-family members. At home, however, she is one very chatty little lady. I only wish I was fluent in Baby!

Elsie's personality grows clearer by the moment. The shyness may be a phase, or she may take after her father. The chattiness may just be learning, or she may take after her mother. It is clear, however that Elsie is happy, fun, and has a good sense of humor. She is stubborn, just like both of her parents. She is extremely careful, patient, and focused, watching every footstep, demanding book after book after book in a single sitting, and entertaining herself for long stretches. What can I say? She is my daughter, and she is a lot of fun!

Tough Choices

2011-03-31T10:53:00.003-04:00

This morning I received an unofficial job offer. An offer for a position that I could accurately describe as my "dream job" -- the entire reason I tried to get a PhD in the first place. Networking, professional experience, a strong academic reputation, and a strange twist of fate converged (despite my lack of PhD). This morning, I was offered the chance to teach introductory physics, part-time, short-term, at Smith College, my alma mater and a truly wonderful school.

This morning, I turned that offer down.

For all the women who read my blog as part of their own family planning, I warn you: if you want a career and a family, you are going to have to make very hard choices. I object very much to the deeply ingrained cultural ideal (and lie) that says, "You can have it all."

You can't have it all. Nor should you try. If you try to do it all to the maximum, all at the same time, you will do none of it well and drain the joy from most of it. Harsh words, I know, but I believe it to be true.

This is not to say that you must choose one at the complete exclusion of the other, to work or to raise your child, just that you to have to prioritize and you have to compromise. Compromise does not always come easily, particularly not for a certain type of woman who is used to doing many things well, who EXPECTS to do many things well, and whose identity is inexorably entangled with her diversity of (over)achievement. Part of me wanted very, very badly to take this job and to knock its socks off. Part of me is very, very hurt that I didn't.

But there's another part of me. The part that cringes every day I have to go to grad school instead of staying with Elsie. I love her daycare, and I value getting a degree, but I miss my time with my daughter, and I feel more and more deeply with the passing months that I am letting her childhood pass me by and letting other people (wonderful people I love and trust, but others, nonetheless) raise my child.

There's the part of me that is planning a family. The part that wishes a baby was still due in July so that Elsie would be even closer in age to her brother or sister than she ever will be now. The part that feels another year between children as eons and eons of time and a vast chasm of space.

I know I could not do this job pregnant. I know I could not be a better mother or a better wife if I took this job. I have to choose, and I choose family.

But it was not an easy choice.

I need to end this on an uplifting note lest I lose half my audience of strong, go-get-'em readers and depress myself for the rest of the day.

It is not a failure of women, this inability to be everything to everybody all of the time. It is simply the boundaries of our humanity. There is a beauty in these limits; if no one person can operate completely and independently, we must rely on each other and work together to raise all the children and to do all the jobs well. I thank feminism for opening doors to me and giving me these hard choices, and I hope to surround myself with the kind of community that, together, can do it all.

There is a lot of joy in my choice. I got to choose between two really wonderful things, and it turns out I have a family life that is so important to me and so fulfilling to me that it wins over even the best job I could hope for. There is faith in this decision, too: faith that, though this was an unusual opportunity, it will not be the ONLY opportunity. Faith that I am capable and there are other jobs that will be there for me when I am ready to take them. Faith that my own calling right now is to be a mother, and that I can do that job beautifully and completely. And there is knowledge and wisdom in my choice, an understanding that I can contribute in this way, and it is important.

In any case, the choice is made.

Breakfast Time

2011-03-18T16:03:00.001-04:00

A few weeks back, Elsie protested at breakfast. I couldn't figure out what was wrong, had she suddenly lost a taste for the oatmeal that she and I enjoy every morning? No, she just wanted her own spoon!

Ever since then, I make sure she has a spoon or fork of her own at meal times. She still accepts food from a more dexterous helper, but she loves to practice scooping and stabbing and ferrying her food.

All that practice brought us here! This morning, for the first time (that I have observed), Elsie fed herself. Not just a bite or two, but a whole lot!

Now I just have to figure out how to layer a song over the video so that you can listen to that instead of the stony silence of our observation!

Gear: Books

2011-03-09T10:00:00.005-05:00

The final installment of the Gear series. If you don't want to read it, please skip to the bottom and post your favorite kids' books. What did you love to read as a child? What do you read to your kids? I'd love to know!

Books are our very favorite source of entertainment. I read to Elsie constantly. Elsie wakes up and gets on the potty, she wants a book. We have to forbid books at breakfast; her appetite for books is as voracious as her appetite for oatmeal. As soon as breakfast is over, more books. When she gets home from daycare, books. Bedtime? Books. Elsie LOVES to read.

And nothing could be better for her. Read your baby -- even your newborn infant. It promotes brain and language development, aides in bonding, and sets up a very healthy dynamic in which reading is fun! If your child will let you, read as often as you can.

You don't need a vast library. Babies and toddlers do tend to enjoy the same stories over and over again ad nauseam. But I want a vast library! So we have one. And it grows every few weeks when I sign onto amazon or drop by the local bookstore and splurge on more, more, ever-more books. If this seems inappropriate, there is always the library, a treasure-trove of reading!

Right now, we only read board books. I have a lovely collection of big-kid books just waiting for it's day. Elsie is a careful child, and with help, she could treat those books right, but with the wonderful world of board books, and all the fun she has turning the pages herself, we haven't yet diversified.

I'm just going to take you through our entire board book collection (or most of it). We read them all.

Baby Faces -- This isn't my favorite. It's a little weird, but babies love it. Newborns fixate on faces, and Elsie was addicted to this book for the first years of life. There are many versions out there.
Byron Barton's Transportation Series -- Barton's illustrations are great! Bold, colorful, simple. His text is extremely simple, maybe even over-simple to an adult, but it's just right for the short attention span of a 3-month-old. Boats was Elsie's first favorite book. I still love that one! She's into Trucks now.
Sandra Boynton -- Books with a nice rhythm and cadence to them -- songs, even. These are fun. Barnyard Dance has my heart. Elsie's current favorite is Perfect Piggies or Snuggle Puppy. Boynton is cute, clever, and prolific. She's clearly a shrewd businesswoman, churning out book after book with simple (probably quick), comic-like illustrations, and making the best of her popularity -- but it is well-earned. She's great.
Eric Carle -- I don't always love the text in Carle books (there are some stilted moments), but you can't beat his animal illustrations. The Brown Bear series is classic, as is The Very Hungry Caterpiller.
Dr. Seuss -- And his knock-offs. I don't need to introduce him. You all know him, surely. He's clever in his rhymes and mythical creatures. Wocket in My Pocket is my pick. Elsie favors The Foot Book and Mr. Brown can Moo.
The Snowy Day -- The best-written of all of our board books, hands-down. It has more words per page than some, so Elsie had to grow into it a bit. Now she loves it, and I'm so relieved to read a book in which every word and every comma is just perfect.
The Owl and The Pussycat -- I love this poem. This edition of the book has such interesting and involved illustrations with tons of tropical island flora and fauna. Alas, there is no such thing as a bong tree, but I like the illustrator's imagination of it!
Potty -- Very cute potty training book appropriate for early-starters. Elsie loves it!
Karen Katz Books -- Vibrant illustrations from someone who is obviously a quilter (lots of texture and color and fabric is the inspiration for everything). Very sweet books. Lots of kisses and hugs and daddy/mommy/grandma specific reading. In line with attachment parenting, which is not what I practice, but might be good information for someone else. Katz is another one of those prolific illustrators who knows how to churn 'em out and is riding a wave of popularity. Sometimes I feel as though her books are all the same, so I don't need many more than I have. Elsie's favorite: Where is Baby's Bellybutton?
Pat the Bunny -- Classic for the tiniest babies! Don't you just remember the way the scratch and sniff flowers smell? Elsie loved this, until she destroyed it. I wish they'd update the binding on it.
Goodnight Moon -- Another classic. Great bedtime reading. We have it memorized. Elsie's in this stage where she likes pictures that have a lot going on. The big, color spreads of the great green room are her favorite.
Goodnight Gorilla -- Very cute story with nice, bright illustrations. Not very many words in this one, but Elsie likes to look at the pictures whether or not we describe them.
Freight Train -- Cool concept book. Classy airbrushing! Reads like beat poetry. Elsie is addicted to this one.
Bear Hunt -- A chanting song, Elsie won't let me get through all the words, but the pictures are very cute and adventurous.

We have some other books, too, but I can't remember them off the top of my head. We inherited a collection of Engrish board books, hot off the presses in China and illustrated with clip-art. They drive me nuts. The counting book counts "6 Films." And shows cartridge film -- the kind you put in your camera back in, oh, 1992. And their numeral 9 is actually a lower-case q. Their 8 has a big gap on top, as though it's a c on top of an O. The shape book says, "Triangle" over a picture of a birthday hat that is clearly a cone, and "circle" over a basketball (a sphere). Oh well, I suppose it's good to have some knock-around books that I don't mind treating roughly. Elsie enjoys these despite their shortcomings.

I look forward to the days when Elsie's attention span for words is a little bit longer and we break into the growing collection of big-kid books! And then to the days when I get to read my own favorite chapter books to Elsie. I am not a very strong reader. I have committed most of Elsie's books to memory to avoid constantly tripping over them (as is the habit of a dyslexic). I fear that my poor skill will get in the way when I pull out the Narnia Sagas, but it's dreadfully important to me, so I must practice. For the time being, I just adore reading to Elsie, and she can't get enough.

What we don't use:

TV for Babies -- Study after study after study shows that tv is detrimental to baby brain development. Brain-wise, it is dead time, a state of hypnotized attention, not engagement. Elsie does get tv at daycare, and we do pull up the occasional youtube video when she is sick and miserable, but for the most part, we avoid tv. Can a child learn things from the television? Of course, but does it improve her intelligence or development? No. Decidedly no. I understand that tv is a useful tool every now and again. It can hold your child's attention and free you up to do something important and urgent, but it should not be the primary focus of childhood entertainment.

On that little tirade, I'll wrap it up! I'm through with the gear series. Leave a message if you think I've forgotten anything important.

Share your favorite kids' books in the comments!

Gear: Play

2011-03-08T12:47:00.002-05:00

Play time!

The very best play, both for entertainment value and for education, is the attention of a loving parent or friend. Tickles and laughs, songs and stories, peek-a-boo. You can't buy anything that even comes close to that kind of good time.

So you don't NEED toys. But they are so cute, and so much fun, and they make popular gifts, so you're almost certain to end up with more than you bargained for.

I advocate for spending on high-quality toys and finding used or hand-me down toys of good durability. Not only will these last longer, but they are made with better, safer substances and aren't as likely to be toxic to your child. Toys that meet European standards are great -- better yet, they're made in America or Europe.

Our favorite play stuff (Don't consider this a list to check off every item. Just have a few things that seem sensible and age-appropriate):

Mobile -- This is the first toy your baby is likely to "use." Hang one above the crib or above the changing table. Remember that it will be viewed from below. We use the one shown from Haba Toys. Elsie started watching her mobile at 4-6 weeks, and she still loves it. Twirling the mobile part of her bedtime ritual.
A Rattle -- Can't beat the classic for early grasping toys.
Mirrors -- Any mirror will do. "Baby in the mirror" is a very fun game for even tiny infants. The mirror may well be the reason Elsie said, "BABY!" first.
Crinkle/Jingle/Squeak toy -- We have a bunch of these: a cute, plush caterpillar that doubled as a tummy-time prop in the early days, a giraffe that hung from her carseat, a corsage with different textures and colors of flowers. At a certain age, babies can examine every angle of a toy like this for ages, over and over again, and not get tired.
Bead coasters/mazes -- You know, beads on wires. Elsie LOVES these. I have to budget extra time at the doctors to let her play with the ones in the waiting room, because they're the biggest ones she's ever seen, and it's a good way to quell her crying after shots. We have a couple at home that see a lot of use.
Music -- Does not have to be kids' music. We play many different styles on the radio throughout the day. We sing little songs, often improvising our own special tunes and words. Elsie has taken to singing, too, which is cute! (Nothing you would recognize as singing, just a little more tonal than her usual babbles.)

Instruments -- The drum that Elsie got for Christmas has been a BIG hit. We also love to set Elsie in front of the piano. My father sits her on his lap to show her how he plays his trumpet, and I took my violin out to let her pluck the strings. Kids love making different sounds, so what could be more fun than instruments?
Teething toys -- Elsie's not big into teething on her teething toys, but we have a whole bunch. I like wooden teethers best. Haba makes some very cute ones. Also, you can get hand-made wooden teethers on Etsy that are awfully cute and have no paints or dyes on them. Elsie mostly chews on her fingers.
Puzzles or Shape-sorters -- Fun and good for motor skills. Make sure the pieces stand up to a good gumming.
Stuffed animals -- We have a couple. Elsie is only just starting to show interest. She has a little fox that she carries around her grandparents' house and a corduroy rabbit that she sleeps with.

Blocks -- THE BEST. If you only get one toy, get a decent set of blocks. They'll be interesting for years and hold up to generations of use. Elsie favors the cylinders.
Stacking cups -- like blocks, build them up, knock them down, carry them around. Simple, fun toys.
Cars -- Simple, small, fun. Just be sure to get age-appropriate cars that won't drop wheels or other chokables.
Balls -- We have a few wooden balls that are big favorites.

Toy kitchen -- This is an extravagance and in no way necessary, but we do use it all the time. It's huge, and I never would have bought it myself, but my neighbor gave it to us, and Elsie LOVES it. Don't get a huge plastic one like ours, lest you have to relinquish your dining room as a playroom (who needs a dining room?). I like some of the smaller-scale wooden ones. Check craigslist or freecycle. The little pots and pans are a big hit, and I make Elsie play food that she should enjoy for a long, long time. I like the play kitchen because it's gender-neutral, independent, creative, and enforces cooking as a family value (which it is in our house). So even if I might have chosen a slightly different one, I'm lucky to have inherited a kitchen at all.

Playpen -- It's a lifesaver. We have a Northstate Superyard, and I love it. You can use it as a pen or attach it to walls. Ours currently splits our former dining room in half, protecting our rugs from potty-training Elsie, who is often without pants. Yes, it's a baby cage, but you'd be amazed how much walking a cruiser can learn from a nice, sturdy baby cage.
Books -- Last but not least, books are the play-things we use the most. Elsie adores reading. I recommend board books for the first year or two of life. She's getting to the point where I could read her a paper book now, but she loves to turn the pages herself, so we're still on the board books. The rest of her library will open up at some point, and that will be very exciting for the whole family. You know what? This topic merits its entire own entry. There are so many good childrens' books out there. I'm going to save it for the next installation.

What we don't use:

Stuff that beeps -- Because I'd go INSANE if I had a house full of canned kids music and beeps and boops and animal noises. I hate that stuff. Yes, babies totally love it, so I'm probably depriving my daughter of that particular joy, but I swear I'd be in an institution if I had to listen to that stuff all day. That's why we stick to real instruments. Noise is great! Just noise that Elsie makes herself.
Big play stations -- besides the kitchen. If we had it, I'm sure we would use it, and I'm sure Elsie would love it. But we live in a small house and I want to keep things minimal. Elsie gets to play with her friends' play stations when she goes for play dates. Better their living rooms than mine.
Power Wheels -- Elsie will have a bike or a trike, but after suffering the din that is my neighbors' kids motoring around their house 24-7 all summer long (and the tantrums over who gets to ride which), I will never, ever buy Elsie a motorized transportation toy. If you hate me, give her one for her 2nd birthday.
Taggies -- I'm sorry to say. These seem to be the hot gift at all the showers. We have two. It's true that babies seek out the tags on toys. Unfortunately, Elsie sought out the actual tag on the taggies, and didn't much care for the rest of the mock-tags.

Gear: Eating

2011-03-01T16:30:00.002-05:00

As distinct from nursing.

We introduced solids starting at 6 months, though the popular recommendation among the US pediatric community at the moment seems to be 4 months.

From memory, this is roughly how it goes:

Start mixing some rice cereal in with your milk or formula. You can work up to other cereals if you want, but many of the mom's in breastfeeding group complain of the constipating affects of oatmeal, so be aware of that. This stage makes a mess, and suddenly you realize why everyone at your shower gave you so many bibs. You thank your lucky stars you didn't give them to goodwill, and wish you had more. Also, it seems like a tremendous burden to have to PREPARE food for your baby every day. How will you ever find the time? How do parents do it?
Add in some ultra-soft mild foods, like baby applesauce, or mushed up bananas. Still overwhelmed, you might end up using far more jars of prepared food than you expected to.
Start moving away from bottles and towards sippy cups. Maybe it goes quickly, maybe it doesn't, and you have to just upgrade to a faster flow bottle for the time being. So much to think about at once!
Start to bend the rules a little and give the baby some cows milk products even though it's moths off her first birthday and you know the pedi wouldn't approve. But you just can't help yourself! It's the first food your baby seems to eat for flavor, not just because you're shoving it into her mouth. If your baby gets the runs, back off and try again in a few more weeks.
Learn that licking the bottom of the spoon saves about 85% of the mess all over your baby's face. Feeding time becomes a lot grosser for onlookers, but a lot cleaner for you and your baby!
Start branching out with gum-worthy foods like cheese and cheerios. You realize two important truths: eating is now entertainment, and cheese is baby crack.
Become more adventurous and let her eat whatever it is she's eying on your plate. If you're a terrible mom like me, peanutbutter, shrimp, and all sorts of other stuff enters the equation at this point. Pedi wouldn't approve. Keep benodryl handy and be poised and ready to call 911. Apples? Why not! Just watch her closely, because they're a choking hazard. You took that baby rescue course anyway, didn't you? Grapes? Even more chokeable, which is when you get into the pre-chew routine. Gross? Perhaps, but parents do these things for adoration of their babies!
Enjoy food with your baby! Suffer sickness with your baby. You're sharing everything, now! Except beer. The beer is mommy's.
Suddenly she's not content to sit back and let you feed her. She wants to do it herself. If you're lucky, she'll still let you feed her while she jabs at her plate with her own little spoon. This must be what placemats are for. And that's where we are right now.

So what do we use?

Table Chair -- I LOVE our hook-on table chair. We hook it right on to the counter so that Miss Elsie can sit with us while we eat (see above). It's a real space-saver. Some families find a high chair or booster seat more appropriate to their needs, but if you eat at a table or breakfast bar, consider the hook-on chair. This brand is awesome. Very sturdy, and easy to wash (which is key when you mix babies and food). The high chair I'm most impressed with is this one. And for that price, it ought to be impressive! Our friends have it. It's sleek, sturdy, fits little Elsie and their toddler twice her size (and will easily fit him when he's a gangly teenager). Pulls up to the table without any problem. Best of all, it's not plastic! It's a really solid product, appropriate for any baby who can sit, and it works well in their small apartment.
Baby spoons -- Lots of baby spoons. You wouldn't think brand matters, but it does. There's heft and size and coating and comfort in your hand. One of the sets we have tastes terribly of plastic. Yuck! My favorite for first-timers are the meal mates spoons. My favorite for slightly older are the take and toss. Now she's too big for either of them and I am in the market for something that isn't plastic coated but is easy for her to use herself and includes a fork, like this. If silver plate is safe for babies, I'll probably just look for something old, because those old-fashioned little spoons and forks with the bent handle are just perfect.
Sippy cups -- Or not. We have a friend who went straight to adult cups. Whatever you do with the baby's beverages, phase out the bottle by 1 year. It's better for her developing mouth, teeth, and language. Unfortunately, I do not have any sippy cup that I particularly like. Neither do most of my mom friends. Any suggestions?
Bibs -- The best for a baby new to eating is a bib that acts like a poncho, covering shoulders, too. Aden & Anais does it again. Their bibs are great. For a baby of greater age, experience, and sophistication, any old bib will do, provided it is big enough. None of those little drool bibs that came with your layette. I prefer bibs with snaps so that they don't snag delicates in the laundry. Better yet, that bib I have that pulls right over Elsie's head. You can never have too many bibs. Some are very cute, and others are very stupid, but if it covers the baby, then it'll work. Other moms I know love formed plastic bibs with troughs at the bottom. I've never used one, and I don't miss it, but my friends love them so much that I thought it worth mentioning.
Rice cereal -- It's the introductory "solid" food, though it's so runny it's hardly solid at all.
Rice rusks or teething biscuits -- Rice rusks melt in your mouth. Teething biscuits are hard as tack. Whichever your baby likes, keep it on hand. It's messy business, but fun times for the baby to feed herself.
Jars of babyfood -- Or you could make all your own, but sometimes it's mighty convenient to have these on hand, or in your diaper bag. They're non perishable until they're open, which makes them great for stashing. As for which kind, taste it yourself and you decide. I think the meat ones are much better from Earth's Best tastes much better than the meat options from Gerber, and the apricot is better from Beechnut than from Earth's Best.
A blender or food processor -- For when you do want to make your own. You probably already have one that's perfect.
Bananas, avocados, etc -- Mush & eat. No processor needed.
Cheerios -- Babies love to hone their fine motor skills and eat goodies at the same time.

Resources:

Hungry Monkey -- Loved this book. LOVED it. So cute! So funny! Written by a stay-at-home dad who is also a food-writer, cook, and adventurous eater. It includes a handful of recipes and many, many laughs. He also has a blog if you'd rather read for free.

What I (and probably you) don't need:

A babyfood maker -- Just cook some food (stem, boil, sautee, bake, whatever), mush it with your fork, or put it in the blender you already have. There is no reason at all that you need this extra gadget.
A babyfood mill -- I have one, and therefore I use it, but it does not handle anything but the softest of food very well, and that I can just mush with a fork to the same consistency. Besides, Elsie preferred her food pureed up until she started eating whole bites. A food mill doesn't get it that smooth.
Different plates than you normally use -- I advocate for using little spoons because babies have little mouths. There is no comparable reason to use diminutive and colorful plastic plates. Besides, eating off of your normal plates is probably healthier than eating off of plastic anyway. There will come a time when your child will revolt and not want her foods to touch each other. Sometime in the toddler years, perhaps. If you want to get a divider plate at that point, then go for it, but I'm planning to stick to my normal plates.
No-spill cups -- I hate all the stupid no-spill valves they put in them these days. Sure, Elsie won't spill even a drop when she shakes her cup upside down, and that might save me wiping up a couple of drops, but what does it do for HER? Nothing. Just delays learning how to drink from a cup Maybe my feelings on this product are a bit too strong, but it's part of a bigger concern over parenting these days. To me, it seems that suction-cup bowls and no-spill cups are just part of a greater trend to avoid having to ever discourage any behavior in our babies -- EVER. God forbid we traumatize them for life by telling them "no" when they push their plate on the floor or pour several tsp of their drink on the table in front of them -- or by limiting eating to the table (where messes are easily cleaned) instead of anyplace in the house.
Squirt Spoons, Nibblers, etc. -- Maybe we'd use them if we had them... but maybe not. They seem excessive. The spoon is just another complicated thing to clean. The nibblers... really? Can't you just feed your baby appropriate foods without any tool, then watch her closely so that she doesn't choke on it?
Puffs -- This kind of thing is a racket. It's like cheerios, only sweeter, and more expensive. Babies love plain old O cereal. But if you feed them extra sweet fruity flavors, they'll be happy to adapt their tastes to prefer the sweet stuff. On the plus side, puffs come in a convenient dispenser. So I guess you could buy them once, then re-fill with plain cereal. Beware that almost all food that has a boring adult analogy but is marketed towards babies is probably something better skipped. If it has Dora the Explorer on it, you don't need it.

Some suggestions for early months of eating food:

Bananas (just be aware that they're constipating)
Avocado
Applesauce
Pears (cooked)
Sweet potatoes
Rice (mushed)
Eggs
Yogurt (full-fat or even added-fat -- babies need fat!)

Then, with a slightly stronger stomach (watch out for choking!)

Soft fruit (mangoes, ripe pears, melon, strawberries, mushed blueberries)
Cereal (not too sugary!)
Crackers
Bread (little pieces)
Soups (maybe pureed, maybe not, depends on baby's preferences)
Beans or lentils
Soft meat (ham, chicken, turkey -- sliced against the grain)
Cheese
Omelets
Oatmeal
Root veggies
Risotto
Pasta (with or without meatballs)
Fish
Mushrooms

Finally, with more teeth and better dexterity (again, watch for choking!)

Raisins
Apples (peeled)
Cherries (pits removed)
Almost anything! Be prepared to pre-chew highly chokable things and watch out for allergies.

Gear: Bath and Health

2011-02-28T10:00:00.001-05:00

Bath time is the best time! Well, maybe not at first, but you'll get there.

Squeeee! She was so tiny! She's now way too big for sink baths.

A quick word on cleaning babies. Babies don't sweat like adults, so it's not like they get hormonally fueled BO. In fact, babies are notoriously sweet-smelling! You can clean your baby with entirely unscented products and she will still smell delicately and wonderfully like a baby. But they do build up skin and lint and food and gunk in their creases. And the gunk does stink. Babies have a lot of creases, from the folds in their necks to their chubby little armpits to the many, many folds hiding underneath the diaper, and it is of utmost importance to clean them all.

I read the saddest thing in my favorite potty training book, that little girls are often not adequately cleaned because of the timidity of parents. They can get sick from this. Do not be afraid to clean your child's genitals, no matter what the sex of your baby. It isn't sexual abuse to touch your child in this way, it is basic care-giving, and it is important. Obviously a baby's genitals are sensitive and deserve to be treated carefully, but they must be cleaned, delicately but thoroughly! Poop goes everywhere under a diaper, and your baby can't clean it out for herself. Obviously you don't have to go into the vagina for anything, as a vagina is self-cleaning, but you shouldn't shy away from labia folds. If it's dirty, clean it gently but not timidly, just as you would her neck creases.

Treat her diaper area just like the rest of her body, and it will contribute to her good health, hygiene, and good self-esteem. Babies can sense our discomfort. What message do we send when we're too uncomfortable to properly clean one specific body-part? Perhaps that it is dirty (which it is if you're not cleaning it) or bad or a source of shame. That's not what bath-time's about! Now I'll get down off my baby-feminist soapbox and give you the list.

Here's my guide to all things hygiene and medicine.

For baby grooming:

Infant bath form -- The cheapest is the best! Simple, effective, good for bathing the baby in the kitchen sink. Now if only it didn't have that horrific warning on it that reminds you about drowned babies every time you go to bathe your little one. They somehow don't show that in the product image on Amazon.
Baby wash clothes -- I linked to my favorites. Unfortunately, they're expensive. You can make your own out of bubble gauze or flannel, or you can buy cheaper ones, but go for 100% cotton. The synthetic terrycloth is really awful. I wouldn't use an adult washcloth on a baby unless it is really old and very soft -- one from your grandmother's linen closet might work. Otherwise, buy something specific.
Cetaphil -- The dermatological nurse I saw during my breastfeeding saga told me, "cetaphil is the only cleanser you will ever need for your baby's skin." She was right. Baby washes of all brands dried Elsie's skin out terribly and gave her a rash, but cetaphil never does. It's now what I use on my own face and body, too. So gentle. So effective. So reasonably priced.
Baby shampoo -- For when your baby gets hair. Something that won't make her eyes tear up. You don't need much. Just a drop is enough to take the spitup or food out of a baby's hair. I have an 8 oz thing of california baby that we're only half way through. If you want that classic baby-product smell, no more tears is what you're remembering, but get a small thing of it, because it lasts a loooong time.
Surgical brush -- These things are awesome. I use them on my own hands and feet, and on Elsie's head to prevent cradle cap. They're very delicate, appropriate for cleaning wounds, but they get scrubbing jobs done. Elsie had such fine hair that we even used this as her hairbrush for a while.
Towels -- I don't really see the point of the hooded towels. It's hard to get them situated right, and I never ended up using the hoods. I think a normal bath towel works fine for babies, but dab, don't rub. If it seems too rough, then, again, aden and anais makes really awesome but expensive muslin products. Shy of that, just get something 100% cotton and soft.
Aquaphor -- But you already have some from the diapering post! Elsie gets dry, scaly patches in winter. This stuff is pretty thick, but it heals them right up.
Nail scissors -- That's right, not baby clippers, but tiny, sharp scissors. Your baby is born with razor-sharp claws, and everyone you meet is going to comment on how terrible of a mother you are the first time she gives herself a bloody little gash across her face. Okay, most people are more polite than to criticize you like that, but that's how it feels sometimes. Rather than put mitts on her and deprive her of exploring the world with her hands, it's best to keep them trimmed very short. They grow fast. You have to cut them nearly every day. The best way I found to do this without cutting her tiny fingers, is with scissors. Why? Because you can do it by feel and not sight. It's not as though she's going to hold still for you, and the scissors are just much better for blind precision cutting. The nurses recommended filing, but it didn't work for us. Now that Elsie's older, we use nail clippers. We don't discriminate between adult and baby ones. They both work fine now that she holds still.
Hairbrush -- Something like this one, for when your baby has more than just a little peach fuzz.
Hair elastics -- Because barrettes don't last two minutes and I don't want to cut bangs in Elsie's hair.
Small flannel wipes -- For wiping boogers.

And in our medicine cabinet:

A Thermometer -- You'll likely detect a fever by touch, but different maladies mean different fevers, so it's good to be able to quantify it. The pedi wants you to use a rectal thermometer. It's the only measuring tool they accept those early weeks. "Babies don't mind at all!" They tell you. LIES! Elsie hated it, so instead, we used a temporal lobe thermometer and lied to the pediatric nurse on duty when she asked if the fever had been measured rectally. "Oh yes. Of course!"
Bulb syringe -- The big, soft, blue one that they gave us at the hospital is my favorite one. I have to admit, though, gross as it may look, THIS might just do the job better. Who am I to talk about gross, having aspirated my daughters nose myself (read: suck the snot out) a couple of times. The things we do for love!
Baby Tylenol -- You'll need it! When you call the nurse on duty for that first fever, she's going to tell you to give the baby tylenol. Make sure to ask the nurse or pedi what the appropriate dosage is for your baby's weight.
Baby ibprofin -- Just to mix it up. Another fever-reducer and a great help for painful nights of teething.

What don't we use? Pretty much anything else, including, but not limited to:

Baby bath cup -- The infamous baby bath cup! Just use, "you know, a cup." Or a wash cloth. Or your hands. Or a sprayer. Whatever works.
Bath thermometers -- Contrary to what you've read, you CAN safely check bath temp with your hand. I recommend using the inside of your wrist instead, as that is a very sensitive spot.
The hoods on our hooded towels
Baby bath robes
Synthetic wash clothes -- You'd be surprised how water repellent these are, and somehow don't effectively dislodge that stuff that builds up in baby's creases
Disposable wet wipes for noses
Powders
Oils
Lotions
Baby perfume -- Though they do use this at daycare... and it's weird.

Gear: Clothes

2011-02-27T10:00:00.002-05:00

Ah! The category in which I'm most likely to alienate my readers!

When it comes to baby clothes, I am a no-nonsense kind of mom. Don't get me wrong, I do care about Elsie looking cute, but I don't think that the maximum amount of frill is the best means to that end. Nor are the Disney princesses. Nor are lots of outfits designed for adults and sized for newborns. I'm going to break this up by age.

We live in Boston. Elsie was a winter baby. If you're from a hot climate or have a summer baby, you might have to adjust the list of infant clothes accordingly. Whatever your favorite outfit is, plan to have 3 of it that you can use in rotation. The rest, you'll probably barely ever even use unless it makes the cut for the next round of favorites.

Your baby's sizing might not match the official clothing sizes. For instance, I know 6-month-olds who had to wear 12-mo clothes (which is the same size as 9-12 mo), and I knew an 8-month-old who was in 2t, which is a toddler size. Sizing varies from brand to brand. Little Me runs smallest. Carters runs biggest. Some things, sizing matters a lot. Long pants can be tripped over. Short onsies will put pressure on the crotch and shoulders. Other things don't matter so much, like dresses. If buying for a baby shower, consider buying up a size or two. I know many babies who never fit newborn clothes, and I know babies who needed 6 month clothes very soon after birth. If you think everyone else will get 0-3 mo clothes, consider looking into 3-6 or even 6-9 month outfits.

Infant outfits. This age takes you up to crawling, so up to 6 mo outfits for us. Elsie, born 6 lbs 10 oz, was in NB size for a month or two, then right on track, 0-3, 3-6. If your baby is born 8 lbs, skip straight to the 0-3 month outfits. What we used:

Our favorite outfits 0-6 mo: footies and rompers

Cotton footies -- My favorite brand for these is Little Me. They're thick cotton and good stitching (in all sizes up to 12 months), and their designs are cute without being too girly or too manly-baby.
Fleece or velure footies -- Favorite brand: Absorba. Absorba makes SUCH high quality clothes. I just wish they didn't put a million tags in their stuff! Least favorite brand (for 0-12 mo), Carters. They fell apart before Elsie even grew out of them, which is a bit of a bummer. Snaps stopped working and the fleece became threadbare within a month or two. Impressively poor quality, though some of their other stuff has worked out fine.
Onesies -- Casual wear for warm weather. The snaps between the legs are key so that the whole outfit doesn't hike up when you pick up your baby.
Rompers -- Cuter warm-weather outfits that snap between the legs.
Sweaters and Vests -- I tend to favor the home-knit sweaters (because they are warm and adorable) and the fleeces that zip up in front (because they are easy to get on and off). Vests are quite practical for babies because they are very easy to add as a top layer even over a sweater.
Knit hats
Small bibs -- For spitup and teething drool. The tiny ones that come with outfits are fine for this purpose. For actual eating, you use different bibs. It may not seem necessary, but they can soak an entire outfit in an hour or two, so it is nice to be able to simply change a bib instead of having to change a footed pj.

Elsie effectively lived her first 6 months in footies, except for our trip to Florida and a few special occasions with fancier outfits for photo ops.

What I do not recommend for 0-6 monthers (here is where I make my enemies):

Outfits that require socks -- they just fall off. If it's warm weather, and your baby can go barefoot, then cropped pants are great. If not, then footed pants or, better-yet, one-piece footies are where it's at.
Shoes -- Until your baby starts pulling up, there is no need to put shoes on her feet. They're not comfortable. They fall off. They get in the way of important foot sensations. They're just for adults to coo over the amazing cuteness that is tiny shoes. Hang them on the Christmas tree instead, so you can enjoy the cuteness, knowing how tiny your baby's feet are, without bothering your baby unnecessarily.
Outfits with many pieces -- We have a few of these that are soooo cute, and it's important to have some cuteness, but if it required removing more than two things for a diaper change, we only put it on for a very special occasion. And it's okay to have a few special occasion outfits, just realize that the best outfits for every day use are the ones with the fewest pieces, that don't gape at the midriff, that make for easy diaper changes, and that don't have anything that could be lost (socks, shoes, headbands, etc.)
Bathing suits -- Unless you need one of those sun-protection suits, it seems a little excessive. Babies don't need swim suits. They're cuter than anything in all their naked glory. For hygiene, get a swim diaper instead. If it's not a worry, skinny dipping is where it's at!

Our favorite bathing-ware

Crawler Outfits. ~6-9 and 9-12 mo. Now we get into babies actually wearing clothes that look like clothes and not just pjs!

Favorite cruiser-wear: overalls and turtleneck or romper

Rompers -- Just the best for summer. They're SO cute and SO practical. Best of both worlds. Most of Elsie's rompers at this age are Carters purchased from Costco. Warning about Carters: their poplin rompers are high quality, but their knit rompers and dresses fall apart at the seams almost as soon as you buy them.
Overalls -- So good for crawlers and cruisers! Very cute. Very practical. Unisex. Doesn't get any better than that. Oshkosh is still the best brand.
Shirts -- Some to snap between the legs and some not to. You just want enough to layer. Carters knit turtle necks have worked out fine. No seam rips and no snap failures yet.
Sweaters and cardigans
Socks -- Now you can introduce socks! Consider getting ones with grip on the bottom. The baby gap socks we have fall off. We have some others that I don't know the brand of that work fine.
PJs -- This time, to use as sleepwear! The footies tend to be zipper at this age, and Carters brand was fine for this despite the smaller sizing with the snaps having preformed so badly.
Snow Suit -- Ours is oshkosh, but it's really hard to get on and off of Elsie. Maybe a bunting would have been a better idea? Hard to say. Necessary evil. She hates bundling up, but it's cold out!
Hats and mittens -- Guess how much Elsie loves these. Not at all. But it is cold outside.

Bad for crawlers:

Dresses -- It broke my heart, but we had to put away all the dresses until a later date. They get under-knee when Elsie is crawling and really slow her down. Still cute to have a few for special occasions, but be sure to bring a more crawl-worthy change of clothes to even the fanciest party. It's just not fair to trip up your baby for fashion's sake.

Walking and Potty Training Outfits ~12-18 mo, 24 mo/2t. Now we're getting into outfits that really look like big-kid outfits! Elsie has a brown sweater I wish I had in my size, but most of her pants look as though they're miniatures of granny mall-walking outfits. Oh well!

Shirts -- No more snaps between the legs. When you're training, you don't want anything in the way or it will get wet and require changing. I now buy up a size, because you can always roll the sleeves and cross your fingers that it will still fit in the fall.
Elastic-waisted pants -- Fleece sweats are the easiest to hem and the easiest to get on and off, which makes them a very practical choice for both Elsie's shape and her training. If you have to mess with flies or clasps or snaps, there's no chance you'll get her to the potty in time to catch a poop. The fleece pants definitely make Elsie look like a frumpy mall-walker. Oh well.
Skirts and dresses -- Hooray! It's finally practical to go in adorable dresses!
Tights and leggings -- Oh, how I love Elsie's tights! Maybe my favorite thing I ever bought for her. So cute, so warm, so comfy!
Shoes -- Yes, there is a time and place for shoes, and it is for little cold or tender walking feet. The very best new-walker shoes are made of leather, and have suede leather soles. They sell them at toy stores and baby shops all over the place. They are expensive, but they are incredible. They never fall off. They're flexible enough that they don't hinder foot growth or flexibility. They're thin enough that they allow your baby to feel the ground beneath her. They're simply the best. I highly, highly recommend them.
Cotton training pants -- They require frequent changing and astute attention on the parent's part, but they allow the baby to learn what it feels like to be wet so that she can learn how her body works and make potty progress. I bought them on clearance right after Christmas when they were changing their colors and patterns. In general, buying on clearance is a great thing to do for baby clothes. You can get much higher quality stuff for the same price as the lower quality brands.
PJs -- just for nights

Bad for walkers or trainers:

Pants that are too long -- tripping hazard. Hem them. You can always cut out the hem later.
Shirts that snap between the legs -- potty impediment!
Overalls -- SO good for walkers but so bad for trainers, so if you're training early, keep that in mind. They're diapering pants. Training babies need the quickest access to their bare bottoms that is practical. We still use overalls, but only when we're definitely not going to be trying for anything but scheduled potty sits.
Rigid shoes -- Try to get as close to the feeling of barefoot walking as you can for your baby. It's the safest and quickest way for them to master the skill, and it's healthiest for little feet.

Gear: Soothing

2011-02-26T10:00:00.002-05:00

Happiest baby on this block!

This is a pretty short list, but it's a very important one! Being able to sooth your baby's crying and help your baby to sleep is good for the whole family. Elsie has a very easy disposition, and always has, so we did not need the entire bag of tricks, but we were SO happy to have a few of these tools on hand and a few of these tricks up our sleeves. If your baby has colic, then you're probably going to want the entire list.

Soothing is all about baby-hypnosis. You can soothe by nursing, but sometimes it's nice to be able to soothe your child without having her attached to your nipple. (Coming from someone with nipple eczema, that's an understatement.) To soothe off-breast, you want to exploit your baby's relaxation reflexes, and to do that, you're effectively going to replicate the sensation of being in the womb. Your baby wants to be wrapped up so tight she can't move, warm and cozy, jostled by mommy-like motions, and set at ease by reliable, consistent, and familiar sound.

What we used:

The Happiest Baby on The Block -- Dr. Karp's book or dvd. Used or borrowed is absolutely fine. If you've already got a baby, just do the dvd because you don't have time to read! You need results now! If you've got time, the book is cheaper and contains good information. This is where Hub and I learned of the importance of swaddling, how to jiggle your baby calm, and how to effectively "shhhhh" the tears away. It's an incredible resource, and I won't let any of my friends make it to their birth without it. These tricks work.
2 Swaddle Me velcro swaddles, size small -- These are a lifesaver! Sooooo great! No amount of wiggling gets the baby out of these little swaddles, and that might just buy you an extra hour or two of sleep at a time. Get the appropriate weight for the season, and only buy for 0-3 months of age, because your baby may come to hate swaddling after that. Other brands make swaddles, too. I haven't tried them all, but these were easy to use.
4 flannel swaddles -- Usually come 4 to a pack in cute prints
4 muslin swaddles -- Aden and Anais makes really nice ones, but they're very expensive, so I make my own out of bubble gauze. Just cut it and zig-zag the edges. It takes 5 minutes, even if you have to thread your sewing machine.
4 Pacifiers -- I used to think that I didn't want Elsie to have a pacifier, but it was a very effective soothing device. We took it away at 5 mo, before she could get emotionally attached to it. It was a smooth and painless transition. Janice (lactation consultant) recommends the soothie, because "it is round, and your nipple is round, and we want your nipple to stay round." The drawback is that it falls out of the baby's mouth before she learns how to suck strongly, but you can train her by playing tug-of-war with it. It'll only take a couple of days and she will learn. Be aware that there are "newborn" and "infant" varieties, and the "newborn" kind is much softer than the older child type.
Hot water bottle -- To pre-warm the crib or basket. Elsie used to start and get upset when we put her in a cold crib. Solution? Put her in a warm crib! You could use an electric blanket instead, but the hot water bottle seemed safer to me. I'm afraid I would somehow start a fire with an electric blanket (which is probably paranoid).
A Baby Sling/Wrap -- To be honest, I didn't use this method all that much because of my engorgement, but many babies sleep very soundly when wrapped up tightly against a loving adult. It's like a swaddle and a rocker all in one.

What we didn't use, but your baby might like:

White Noise Source -- I think a white noise cd is probably your best bet, but they make all sorts of little teddy bears or sound makers, or you could just use a fan (though it is energy-intensive). Babies fall asleep to the sweet sounds of vacuum cleaners, hair dryers, and loud engines. Seriously.
Swing -- Moms and dads of colic babies swear by these things. They're HUGE, so be prepared for that, but if constant bouncing/swinging is what your baby needs, it's probably worth giving up the middle of your living room. Used is fine. Just make sure it's modern enough that you don't have to crank it. You want it to go forever without you having to lift a finger. Some of the modern ones rock side-to-side, and apparently that's good for soothing some babies.
Rocking chair

What we didn't use for soothing:

A bouncy seat -- we did use our bouncy seat, but not for soothing. The vibration didn't do anything for her, only big bounces powered by hand or foot, which gets tiring.
Lullabies -- Singing to your baby is awesome, and very important as a bonding and play experience, but don't bother with a whole bunch of lullaby tapes for sleep or crying, because making a big, loud "SHHHHHH" is more effective at soothing a newborn.
Side-sleeper, pillows, props -- Though it might help a baby sleep better, our pedi forbade it. Back is best as far as SIDS goes. An empty crib is fine.
The Car -- Though driving did put Elsie to sleep, we really didn't need to go out for drives around the block because our in-house methods worked just fine.
Whiskey -- though great-grandmothers everywhere swear a little on the gums goes a long way.

Gear: Transportation and Carrying

2011-02-25T10:00:00.003-05:00

This is going to be very situation-specific. If you live in NYC and walk everywhere you ever go, then clearly strollers are more important than carseats. If you only ever walk on flat pavement, then you don't need a fancy stroller. I do a lot of walking with Elsie, so we put a big emphasis on strollers and carriers. Here's what we use:

Car Seat -- Oh, how I hate car seats! But you can't drive your baby around without them, so here goes. When Elsie was born, we used a Grayco Snugride. It has some of the highest safety ratings, and that's what's important, but there are things about it that I have come to hate. It's heavy. It's awkward. And even though Elsie's still almost 15 lbs below the weight limit, we had to move her out of it because the straps are too short to fit her in it anymore. Also, I had to reupholster it with cotton fabric because it made her sweat, badly. so here's what I'd recommend in carseats and accessories:

Infant Car Seat -- It must have a detachable base so that you can lift your sleeping baby out of the car and bring her inside without waking her. That is awesome. Pay attention to the padding material. Breathable is better. Anything you ever put your child in ought to be washable. Beyond that, just buy the lightest one you can and plan to upgrade when she's older. Used is fine. You can always get a new cover if it's nasty.
Toddler Carseat -- Get one that converts from rear to front facing. Rear-facing is much safer than front-facing, but eventually your kid will want to face forward. We got the Combi, because it is compact. You could use it on a newborn, which is nice, but it doesn't have a removable base, so you'd have to unlock the entire thing from its LATCH system. It is definitely more breathable than the grayco, and the straps are much longer, but it suffers from some of the same problems as the grayco. It's hard to buckle up and hard to release the straps. My parents have an evenflow, and it is easier to get her in and out of, but not easier to buckle and unbuckle. There's really no winning, is there?
Bundle Me -- You could just use a blanket, but it is sometimes nice to be able to zip her up and know she can't kick her blankets off. Beats putting your baby in a coat every time you get in the car.
A Toy -- Many, many toys can be attached to a carseat. I like this one, that goes from handle to handle. It's nice for her to have something to entertain her that she can not drop.

What we don't use in the car:

The baby-mirror -- Sometimes it would be nice to see what she's up to, but I've taken the philosophy that my attention shouldn't be back there. If she falls asleep and ruins her nap, that's not so bad as me taking the risks associated with distracted driving.
The seat-cover -- Perhaps we'll want one when she's older, but for now, all the mess she generates makes it into the carseat itself. Besides, as anyone who's ever been in our car knows, we're hardly fastidious about our car.

Strollers -- I have yet to find the one-size-fits-all-lifestyles stroller. We have three basic kinds that we use all the time.

Carseat with wheels

Little ladies, out for a stroll. Two types of umbrella strollers

Carseat Wheels (like Snap 'n' Go) -- Find a kind that you can open one-handed. That's very important! We used these all the time when Elsie was newborn, and then again when we were flying with her. We could put her in her carseat and wheel her through the airport, then bring the carseat on the flight with us and ditch the wheels at the gate. Awesome!
Jogging Stroller -- We have a big-wheeled, heavy-duty, three-wheel jogging stroller. It handles our potholes, roots, and heaved paving stones as though there's nothing there at all! It also handles really well in the snow. Unfortunately, only about half of people in Boston shovel their sidewalks wide enough for even a small stroller to fit through, and this one is huge! It takes up a lot of room in our shed and barely fits in our car's trunk, so we just use it from home. Still, we do use it a lot. It is the best for off-road stuff, and in Boston, it is the best for road-stuff, too.
Umbrella Stroller -- Cheap, functional, and versatile. This is now my go-to stroller. I love it. If you have to get only one, get an umbrella stroller. As soon as your baby can sit up, you can use it.
Stroller Hooks -- I had plastic ones that snapped because I used them so much. I loved them, but next time I'll get something sturdier. If you go grocery shopping with your stroller, these are necessary. Just beware that you have to balance your load so that your stroller doesn't tip backwards under the weight of your groceries. You might have to put something heavy on the foot-rest too.

Carriers -- Sooooo useful! Soooo wonderful! Cholicy baby? Try a sling or a wrap. Huge sumo baby who is killing your arms at 6 months? Backpack. There are also so many different kinds and no one that is best. We have many. Here's what we use most:

Moby Wrap -- it's a huge piece of cloth in stretchy t-shirt material that you wrap around you like some sort of fancy sari-origami. When you're done, your baby is swaddled against your chest in her little cocoon, as close as can be, with the weight spread out all over your shoulders and back, and your hands are free to do whatever you like. It was the only carrier I could use during my engorgement issues. Pros: it's the most comfortable way to carry your infant. Cons: it is not at all user friendly.
Ergo Carrier -- I love this one. It's like a mai-tai with backpack straps and latches. You can wear your baby on the front or on the back, but I really love it for the back-wearing. It is not for infants, and I would skip the infant insert altogether and go for the Moby or a sling instead. When your baby hits 15 lbs, though, this is a great option. It fits Hub (who is very tall). It fits me. It's comfortable. It's a really great carrier.
Sling -- I used my sling when Elsie was very young, but I never got into it because of my engorgement at that time. Still, I want to mention it, because several of my mom friends love their slings best of all. It's a good swaddling feel for the baby, and it's definitely the most stylish option. Just be absolutely certain that you can fit two fingers under your baby's chin when you wear a sling. If you can't, she may not be getting enough air and you may have to prop her up in the sling with a folded towel.

Resources:

Boston Babywearers -- If you're from the area, check out their group. You can borrow any of their carriers from a vast library to find one that's right for you and your baby. It's the best place to learn how to don your Mobywrap, or how to make your own wrap carrier. Also, a great resource for sling safety and how to prop small babies for good air flow. The moms who show up are super nice, so it's good networking, too.

What I don't recommend:

The Baby Bjorn -- I used to LOVE this when I babysat, and I registered for it, but it is not compatible with nursing. The way the straps cut, it makes for clogged ducts. Many of the moms in my group had this problem. It is also not as easy on your back as the ergo and, though it is awesome that the baby can face forward, it's not the best position for their crotch health as it has them hanging off of a strap between their legs rather than sitting in a seat. I still love Bjorn for other products, but as a more experienced baby-carrier than my teenage self, I'm an ergo convert.

Gear: Diapers and Potties

2011-02-24T10:00:00.002-05:00

Most of the readers of this blog will probably use diapers, but I want to make you aware here that you don't actually HAVE to use diapers. There's another way, too. It's called infant potty training, elimination communication, or natural infant hygiene, and it is fascinating. Definitely worth reading up on.

But I didn't use EC for my infant, I used Fuzzi Bunz Perfect Fit Pocket Diapers. They worked very well for me. They're a big up-front expense, and it might look overwhelming if you do the math on how much this list costs, but even including the cost of washing (which we do ourselves), these fancy diapers will likely save us $1000 for Elsie and much more with our next baby, when we're already set for gear. If you want to save even more, don't buy fancy diapers, buy prefolds and waterproof covers! Nothing wrong with the old-fashioned way! Or EC, the really old-fashioned and very least expensive way.

Also note, not every kid fits the same kind of diapers. If you live locally, check out Diaper Lab. They let you try-before-you-buy with a bunch of different brands so that you can figure out which works best for you. I love my fuzzi bunz, but my friend couldn't get them to work for her son without leaking around the thigh. Diaper lab is also a great place to register if you want to try cloth, and they're my go-to resource for questions about how to wash my diapers.

Here's what we use:

1 Changing table -- Not a need for a young, fit mommy who doesn't mind changing on the floor, but it certainly does make life easier, especially for grandparents. Hand-me-downs are great. Check craigslist for freebies. You can always replace the pad if it skeeves you out, but the table itself should be fine.
1 Changing table pad
2 Changing table covers
3 Travel changing pads -- one for the top of your changing station because it's easier to change than the fitted cover, one for your diaper bag so that your baby doesn't pee on your dear friend's couch (sorry, Heather!) and one to replace whichever gets dirty first.
Disposable wipes -- Unscented! Buy one pack with the case and you can re-use the plastic box for your reusable wipes or for your next pack of disposable wipes. I like having both kinds on hand.
Reusable flannel wipes -- you can make your own, easily.
18 Fuzzi Bunz Perfect Fit Size Small -- We used about 9 a day and did laundry every-other day. They fit her up to 6 months.
24 Fuzzi Bunz Perfect Fit Size Medium -- These will fit until training. We launder every 3 days when diapering full-time, and every 4 days when doing some potty training
1 Mesh office trash can -- Skip the diaper pail if you're using cloth, unless you're using a wet pail.
4 old pillow cases -- Put it in your mesh trash can... presto! Diaper laundry! You don't want to rest these on the floor, because the bag can be moist, but I don't think it's necessary to have a PUL waterproof laundry bag (we have one and use it, but it's not necessary). Pillow cases work just as well, and if you get a particularly smelly one, just bring it down to the basement to wait for laundry day. But that doesn't often happen.
1 diaper toilet sprayer -- this is for when your baby starts on solids and poops suddenly get nasty.
Bummi's flushable liners -- Not a need if you have a diaper sprayer, but very convenient to be able to lift out a poop and flush the whole mess away when you're out of the house. Also, these are a BIG hit with the grandparents, who miss some of the conveniences of the disposables they used on me. You won't need them until you introduce solid foods because breastfed baby poop is neither solid nor nasty.
Diaper Bag -- Not entirely necessary, but nice to have. All of Vera Bradley's bags look like diaper bags to me, so it's no surprise that her quilted diaper bags work out really well. Cute patterns.
2 PUL dirty diaper bags -- For travel. You can get them from Fuzzi Bunz, but it's more fun to buy them handmade on Etsy. You can also just use a plastic bag for dirties, but the reusable one doesn't create so much waste.
Country Save Detergent -- I used to use Charlie's Soap, but it's not compatible with my hard, New-England water. If you have hard water, use Country Save. It's cheap. It's great! I use it for all of our laundry, clothes, linens, baby stuff, diapers -- everything! It's much better than dreft that way. Works for everyone, babies included.
Oxyclean Versitile Stain Remover -- This stuff is magic, I tell you. Soak your diapers in it once a week, and they will never, ever smell, nor will they stain. Even if you're not going to use cloth diapers, you should buy a big thing of this, because you're going to have stains of your own to clean up, and just because you use disposables does not mean that you will not be washing poop in your own washing machine. Oxyclean soak removes every trace.
Thirsties Washing System -- For when I don't have time for the oxyclean soak, but I think my diapers need deeper cleaning than usual. It's not a need, but sometimes I like to have this stuff around.
Aquaphor -- because sometimes a baby gets a little diaper rash. Every pedi has their favorite diaper cream, and many of them have zink oxide in them, which I don't like so well. It's really thick and clogs up the diapers. In cloth, Elsie's only really nasty rashes came from when she ate something terrible, when she had a really bad tummy bug, or when she got strep in her pants. Aquaphor is usually enough to deal with whatever else she gets.

And because we've started potty training:

Potty Seat -- Elsie's favorite, though not the doctor's preference for good pooping posture.
Little Potty Chair -- Preferred for small or young babies
Training Pants -- wait until they go on sale. We usually give Elsie naked time in the morning, but if we just can't have her peeing on the floor, these hold (most of the time) one pee, but you can feel it on the outside. They force you to change her right away, with the very first pee, so that she gets used to feeling dry and noticing when she's wet.

Books:

Early Start Potty Training -- My favorite training book I've read so far. What I like about it is that it outlines several ages at which to start training your child, very early (0-5 months), cruising (up to and around 1) and toddler (1.5-2). It is evidence-based and much more well-written than most parenting books.

What you don't need:

The wipes warmer -- Though I'm sure warm wipes are nicer on the bum, it seems a bit excessive. Also, seems as though warming the wipes (especially reusable ones) might encourage bacterial or fungal growth, which wouldn't be any good.
The Diaper Genie -- I'm going to get a lot of flack for this one, because people love their diaper genies, but I think it's a gimmick. Every house I babysat in had one of these, and every nursery smelled like poop despite it. My open-air diaper bag doesn't make the room smell as much as those diaper genies did -- probably because I flush almost all the poop and remove the bag to the laundry if it ever is particularly stinky. That's the thing about cloth, big-baby poop goes to the sewers promptly. Even if you're using disposables, I think the only way you'll keep your area from smelling is to take out the trash very frequently, and the diaper genie makes this impossible.

Gear: Nursing

2011-02-23T10:00:00.003-05:00

We are lucky to live in an age where we have more choices about baby feeding options. In the old days, it was the mom-nurse or the wet-nurse. Now it's mom-nurse or formula, usually, though I do know of women whose friends pumped for their babies.

For me, the choice was very easy. I go to lengths to minimize the amount of processed food that I consume. I want the same for my daughter, and that means breastmilk.

Incredible to look at your 5-mo-old daughter and think, "All this came from me!" Except for the sperm.

Many breastfeeding proponents might not like the length of this "gear" list. After all, breastfeeding is natural and complete as-is. That is one of the processes most winning attributes. Unfortunately, it is not always so simple.

I do not mean to put anyone off of breastfeeding with this entry, nor to make it more expensive than it has to be, just to report what I used -- and I used a lot. I NEEDED a lot. Long-time readers will recall that I went through 8 weeks of very intense physical pain before I was diagnosed with eczema on my nipples and given an appropriate treatment to help heal. For me, breastfeeding was not easy at first, and if you add up all the gear and all the copays and all the compounding prescriptions and all the consultant appointments, breastfeeding may not have even been cheaper for me than formula was. Chances are, if you choose to nurse, you will not have these problems and you will not need this much stuff, but I want to list it anyway. I'm going to list in order of importance. I sincerely hope that all of this will be want or nice to know about and not need for all of my readers!

I'm going to break this down into a few categories:

What I used that even the easiest, most natural nursing moms might like to use, too:

The Brest Friend Nursing Pillow -- Don't get the Boppy. Just don't! It's a useless nursing tool. It is rounded and the baby falls right in when you hold her next to your body in proper nursing position. The Brest Friend is big and ugly and has a stupid name, but I swear, it is the single most helpful nursing tool there is. It belts around you so you don't drop it. It supports the weight of your baby while you both figure out how to do this nursing thing. Someday your baby will be a pro, but not at the beginning, and you need to help her a lot. The pillow helps. If you're expecting twins, get the twin pillow. My mom friends with twins could not have nursed without it! It lets you nurse both at once, which saves you many hours of your precious life.
Nursing Bras, 3 day and 3 night -- Or more, see how many you leak through in a day. I can't tell you which ones to get. You ought to get fitted for them after your milk comes in. My cup size increased from ~C to ~DD in the first week of motherhood. Crazy times! I used the Medela lace bras, which are ugly and dowdy and look terrible under sweaters, but which do not constrict you. Never get a bra with an underwire when you're new to nursing, and if you feel constricted in any way around your breast, don't wear it. You get clogged ducts that way, and that's very painful. They make sleeping bras. I needed these, and they're not so sensitive to sizing, so you may want to buy a couple of these in advance and buy the more close-fitting ones later.
Nursing Pads -- My favorite disposable pads are Jonhson's molded pads, hands-down.* In fact, those are my favorite pads overall. I did also have some reusable, but I squirted so much milk that the medela cotton ones couldn't hold it all, and I'd still wake up wet even with my waterproof nighttime ones. J&J really saved me on this. They hold a ton of milk and are molded well, so they look less weird in your bra than the rest of the brands.
Nursing Stool -- Need? Probably not. But it does make nursing easier.
Diaper rags 2 packs-- Lots and lots and lots of rags. They don't have to be diapers, but diapers are absorbent. Some of my friends prefer prefolds, because they're thicker, but I like the single-layer cloths, because they cover more area. This is for catching squirting milk and lots and lots of spitup. These were a NEED for us. We had 36 of them, and went through them all every 24 hours. I was like a leaky hydrant, and Elsie was like a little volcano.
Modesty Apron -- One of my friends just uses a blanket for this, but most of my mom friends consider it a very helpful tool. I'm so awkward I can't even make the apron work for me, so I just nurse hanging out all over the place -- read, not in public, but everyone who came to my home in the early months of Elsie's life has seen my breasts and nipples. *Catches mardi gras beads* Woo hoo!
Vitamin D drops -- Or trivisol. Pedi tells me that breastfed babies get everything they need from milk except vitamin D, and with the increase in sunscreen awareness, there has been a resurgence of rickets. Put your baby in the sunshine or supplement.

For pumping moms:

Pump -- My recommendations come from my lactation consultant and resident guardian angel, Janice. Medela Pump In Style or Medela Symphony. The symphony is a hospital grade pump, and thus more expensive,but both use the two-phase pumping pattern on double-breast pumps that has been proven best for triggering letdown and for boosting your milk supply. Regarding used or borrowed pumps, I don't buy that you'll get HIV from a breast pump if you are hygienic about your cups and tubes, no matter what the warnings say, however a pump has a pretty short lifespan and probably won't last for more than two kids, so realize that it might not be strong enough to trigger a letdown if it has been used a lot before. I inherited a pump from my neighbor who only used hers a few times, and it worked fine. You can take yours to a lactation consultant and have them test the suction to make sure it is strong enough.
Bottles 6 -- Unfortunately, I don't know what your baby is going to like! Janice recommends platex bottles and nipples because they are slow-flow, which is good, but I had a fast letdown and Elsie wouldn't take a slow-flow bottle, so we just used the medela ones that came with our pump and had a faster flow. She wouldn't touch the Dr. Browns bottles.
Freezer bags or bottles -- TEST YOUR MILK if you freeze it. Mine thawed spoiled every time. Some women's milk doesn't freeze well without scalding first. That's a huge pain, so I didn't end up building up storage. I just pumped for the next day, every day. If I didn't use milk, I'd tip it.
Cooler and freezer pack -- if you're pumping at work. It might come with your pump.
Extras -- should come with your pump, but you might need cups of different nipple size or an extra set of tubes or valves or more bottles if you can't wash your stuff at work. I had only one set of everything except bottles, and it was fine because I could wash it all.

Stuff I used that I hope you never need!

Remember this? Gentian violet baby!

Breast Shells -- These are for women whose nipples need to not touch anything. They definitely help if you've got pain or cracks. In fact, they're magic for that! But they're totally inconvenient (they fill up with milk, then spill out the air vents when you bend over, soaking your top) and weird-looking under your bra, so be warned about that. If you're in pain, it's worth it. Women also use these to correct inverted nipples.
Gentian Violet -- if there is a persistent thrush infection, this is the most old-fashioned method of treating it, and also the last-resort for these days! The more common cure is fluconozole, which is an oral anti-fungal pill. If the fluconozole and the gentian violet don't work, then the problem isn't thrush.
APNO -- All Purpose Nipple Ointment. You need a prescription for it. The link gives the formulation. If you have a lot of nursing pain, or if you have any cracks or bleeding, then this is your first line of defense. Call your OB have the prescription sent to a compounding pharmacy in your area. CVS and Walgreens probably won't make it. For most women, just a couple of days of this gets rid of their pain entirely. Expect a steep copay. If your pain persists even with the APNO, then call a dermatologist ASAP, because it's likely beyond the scope of your OB or even your family doctor.
Aquaphor and Non-Stick Wound Dressings -- If eczema is your problem, here is your solution. Stop washing your nipples with soap, and slather aquaphor on thick after every nursing and every shower, then put a non-stick dressing between your breast and your pad, and they should heal eventually. I had to do this for many months, but it kept the pain away.
Ice packs or bags of frozen peas -- If you suffer from engorgement, you want to ice your breasts for 10 minutes after you nurse, every time. It is a huge pain in the butt and very uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as engorgement.
A hand-pump -- to relieve engorgement if you don't have a big pump. Any kind works, but one-handed operation is best.
Hot water bottle -- If you suffer from clogged ducts, the best thing to do is heat the clog from the outside and massage it while your baby nurses or you pump. You're going to need your husband or partner or mother to help you out with this one, because it takes more than 2 hands.

Resources:

http://www.drjacknewman.com/ -- I didn't read books for breastfeeding, but I did read this site! It's very helpful. A book is probably a great idea, though.
Lactation Support Group -- if you life anywhere near Woburn, you should go to this. Janice is the very best, and those other women are incredible. Janice and her group saved my breastfeeding. If you're not from the area, call around and find a group like this. Your local hospital may have one, or maybe your midwife knows of one.

What you definitely don't need:

A bottle warmer -- It's just another gadget. Warming your bottles in a bowl of warm water or in the microwave (then mixing and testing) works jut fine and saves some counter-space and cupboard space.
Lansinoh nursing pads -- Lots of women use lansinoh in the way I used aquaphor, and if that works for you, that is great! It was so thick that it hurt my nipples, and I just couldn't do it, but one thing that you don't need is the pads that already have the cream in them. I think it's better to have plan pads, then layer on the cream if you need it. One of the reasons you apply lansinoh (or aquaphor) is to provide a lubricant and a seal between your sore nipple and the pad. You lose this when it's embedded in the material.

* Full disclosure! One of my most faithful readers works for J&J, and she sent me a huge box of awesome stuff before Elsie was born, including these pads. That said, I really do think that these are the best on the market. As you'll see, I have stuck with some of their products and chosen other favorites from different brands, so while I LOVE my box of stuff and appreciate it so much, I don't think it has influenced me to lead you to that brand except when I think it's the best, as here.

Gear: Sleeping

2011-02-22T12:43:00.005-05:00

I couldn't do the co-sleeping thing. I couldn't even do the same-room sleeping thing. When Elsie was newborn, I was so pumped up on hormones, that if I could hear my baby breath, I would just lie awake listening to it with my full attention. All night. Every breath. So for us, it was the nursery and a crib at night, and a Moses basket during the day, so that I could have her closer at hand and in the heated part of the house. None of this has to be new. Used is GREAT.

Here's what we have:

1 Crib -- Hand-me-down, Score!
1 Crib mattress -- Hand-me-down
2 Mattress covers
3 Mattress sheets -- You know, for those tummy bug nights
1 Bumper -- It's not a need at first, but once you're done swaddling, those limbs really get stuck in those slats
1 Moses Basket with handles and lining
2 Swaddle Me velcro swaddles -- Pick the weight that is right for the season. Your baby will need these from 0-3 months, so buy for infants, not bigger babies. They're not just for warmth, but for soothing. My mom friends like this Summer Infant brand product the best.
2 Soft fleece blanket sacks -- Size up! You swaddle your baby for the first 3 months, and they're expensive. And don't bother with light-weight blankets. If it's not cold, why use the expensive sack?
1 Snuggle-down sleeping sack -- It looks expensive, doesn't it? But it's way cheaper than turning up the heat at night every night for 3 years, which is how long it fits for. Besides, it's a cottage industry, and we've got to support cool moms who make sleeping sacks!
Baby-blankets -- We're lucky enough to have several hand-made quilts, hand-knit blankets and some lovely soft warm layers to work with. You can never really have too many of these. I used them like picnic blankets at first, then to bundle her in the car seat, now for warmth at night.
1 Baby Bjorn Travel Crib -- I love our travel crib. It sets up and breaks down easily and obviously. It stores neatly under a bed. It travels well, like a very large briefcase. I prefer it to the pack 'n play (which we have at my parents' house). It isn't as big, and it doesn't have the changing station, but it is more practical for use as a crib than the pack 'n play. When it's set up, the bjorn crib has an inch or two of mat that rests flat on the floor, which seems more comfortable to me than the accordion board that folds out atop the frame of the pack and play.

Books:

Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child -- Great sleep resource. It's a tough read, but worth it. Read along just the chapters on the age of your child, or the next age up. Don't read it all at once. It's meant as a reference. The author is pretty intense on the importance of good sleep, and I agree with him, but it might come off as too harsh on some parents. Get past that, because his advice is really helpful, in the long run.
Happiest Baby on the Block -- Again, not my favorite writing style, but trust me, you should read this book or watch the dvd. It's VERY helpful at getting a newborn to sleep. Applicable from 0-3 months, so consider reading it before you have your baby, and don't bother with it if you're adopting a 6-month-old.

Here's what we don't have:

Baby monitor -- and we don't miss it. We live in a small house. I was so sensitive to Elsie's noises that I closed both bedroom doors and wore earplugs, because even without the monitor, I woke with every little sniffle and sneeze. When I was nursing, if she cried, I woke in an instant, even through the doors and the earplugs. You're just so attuned to it when you're running high hormones. You'll only drive yourself nuts if you can hear every breath. That said, maybe you live in a bigger house and need a monitor. I think the video monitor is the best idea. It allows you to look at your baby if you're worried, but you may like to be able to turn the volume down so that you only hear crying -- or maybe so that it's on mute, especially if you're doing sleep training.

Gear: Intro

2011-02-22T11:58:00.004-05:00

Quite a few of my friends have fallen pregnant recently. It's a wonderful and exciting time! And what do they all want to know about? Stuff. Baby stuff.

Unfortunately, I can't answer the most pressing question, "What will I need!?"

I can only tell you what I needed, and what Elsie liked, and what we used a lot. It is not the same for all moms and it is not the same for all babies, but my own personal experience is all I've got!

This topic is HUGE. There is so much baby stuff out there that it can be completely overwhelming. You want to feel prepared for your baby, but you don't want to fill up your house with expensive baby crap that you never use. I'm going to have to break the gear entries down by topic.

I'll try to be careful with the word "NEED." Need is a funny word. Turns out, you don't need much to have a baby, but there are a lot of things that may make new parenthood easier, and I'll cover these, too.

I went to a shower just this weekend at which there was baby bingo. My friend who has not yet had a baby, looked at her card and asked, "What's a baby bath cup?" The woman in front of us turned around to explain that it's a cup for rinsing the shampoo off of a baby's head.

"It's not a NEED," I added. At which my friend (who is of similar mind to me) had a good chuckle. I added, "I just bring Elsie in the shower with me now, but when she got baths, I'd just squeeze the cloth out over her little head."

"Yeah," added my friend, "Or use, you know, a regular cup."

I completely agree, and I would put that bath cup in a large pile of "Everyone wants to make a buck off of expectant parents" or "Useless crap" never to be looked at again. However, I am a jerk, and the girl in front of us who explained the purpose of the cup ended up being the giver of that very item at the shower. Oops!

The fact of the matter is, as much as I think a baby bath cup is senseless waste and consumerism, it might turn out to be my pregnant friend's favorite little thing.

Read on for what I consider important and helpful. And please don't be offended if I trash your favorite product. Just make a note of why you love it in the comments to help give expectant parents more info.

Today's entry is just a general overview. Most of these topics will get their own attention with specific product names and brands later in the week.

Here are the needs:

You need something for your baby to sleep in. Maybe it's a bassinet, maybe it's a cosleeper, maybe it's your bed. For us, it's a crib. An old-fashioned drop-sided (yes, I realize this is now illegal) crib.

You need to be able to feed your baby. Be prepared, that the thing you probably NEED most, is the ability to feed your child. You can make due with what you have for everything else, but babies don't eat what you eat, so be ready to choose nursing or formula and to gear up accordingly.

You need to be ready for baby waste. For most of us in the Western, English-speaking world, this means diapers. I chose modern, pocket-style cloth diapers.

You need a way to hold your baby, hands-free. That is, you need a carrier, or a sling, or a wrap. Yes, this is a need, not a want. There will come a day when you need to be able to hold your baby close and cook dinner or use the bathroom at the same time. A sling or a wrap might just make you super-mommy at the pivotal moment.

You need to be able to bathe your baby. You don't need much for this. Just something to keep the baby from hitting his or her head and from going under the water, some extra soft linens, and some extra gentle cleansers.

You need to safely transport your baby. This is going to depend on lifestyle! For us, it's a car seat, carriers, and strollers.

You need to be able to soothe your baby. For this, I'm going to recommend a pop-parenting book, an assortment of swaddles, and a lot of practice.

You need to clothe your baby appropriately for the conditions. I have my favorite sets of practical baby clothes. Some cultures just use swaddles and slings for the early months. This is a need, but also one of those areas where people go a little crazy and a lot of impractical outfits can creep into your baby's miniature wardrobe.

You need to be able to stimulate your baby and interact with your baby. Turns out you don't need anything new for this. All you need is yourself and your undivided attention on your perfect baby. Don't worry, it comes naturally. That said, you may want toys and books and music -- and you're going to get some as gifts even if you don't want them. Everyone loves buying cute things for babies! Even grouchy old me!

Read on for more specifics in the coming weeks.

Potty Updates

2011-02-18T10:07:00.003-05:00

For those of you who are wondering if I threw in the towel on the early potty training, the answer is no. It's still part of our routine!

A quick re-cap:

I started putting Elsie on the potty at 11 months. She cried for about a week, then decided that potty time wasn't so bad after all. Books are her favorite things ever -- and how could you possibly make reading more fun? By doing it without any pants on at all. YES!!!

All the parenting resources warn you against using "harsh" potty training tactics like extended time on the seat. Time is not harsh on Miss Elsie. Soon after learning that potty meant more books and undivided mommy attention, she started toddling into the bathroom on her own initiative. She wailed when I took her off of her throne, disappointed that potty time had to end. She still didn't have the connection that potty should mean peeing and pooping, but at least she didn't hate it, wasn't afraid of it, and was accustomed to interrupting play for potty seats at an early age. So I kept at it.

I tried some of the Elimination Communication methods I read about in my early training books. I tried to trigger her to pee with a "Pshhhh" noise, and to poop with a little grunt, but it never worked for us. She was too old for these cues when we started. Instead of going on command (the way you can train a newborn to 5-mo-old), she'd just happily babble the sounds right back at me, as though to say, "Yes! I can say those words too!" I ditched the cuing and started teaching her potty vocabulary instead. Ingenious that they're all P words, as P is one of her favorite letters. "Boppy" (potty) was easy. She got that one right away. "Pee pee" and "poop" were not far behind, but unlike "boppy," she doesn't use these in context yet.

Our breakthrough came with that terrible, terrible, peeling, bleeding, persistent diaper rash of a few weeks ago. I rolled up the rugs, turned up the heat, piled a stack of old towels within arm's reach, took off her pants, and let her go. Within five minutes she found a rug I missed and peed on it. Oops! This kind of training is like having a puppy!

As the days wore on, of course I had to mop up a lot of puddles, and even pick up a poop or two that I didn't quite get in time, but our catch rate got better and better. Most impressively, Elsie would wail when she peed on the floor. It startled her, and she didn't like it. After a couple of times, though, she started wailing BEFORE she peed on the floor. If I could whisk her away to a potty, she'd empty her bladder right away. Same for poop. As long as I could sit her down right away and wait patiently for long enough (up to 10 min), she'd go. With Elsie's help, we made it to the potty more times in one short week than we had in five months of training. This is more than coincidence and more than mommy-training. She is getting it!

I made the mistake of telling the doctor that I think Elsie's starting to get an awareness of her urgency. In a way that makes it very clear she thinks, "Oh, it's another one of those parents who thinks her daughter is just the bee's knees, and far more a prodigy than she actually is," the doctor carefully informed me that children are not physically capable of this kind of awareness until after the age of 2. That it's about nerve connections that aren't ready yet, and there's just no way.

When I told Grandmama about the doctor's words, she rolled her eyes, pursed her lips, and told me, "Well, that's just silly."

Ask your grandmother. She'll know. Most of our parents were trained between the ages of 12 and 18 months. Most of my generation was trained between 2 and 2 1/2. Most kids now are trained between the ages of 3 and 3 1/2. Kids aren't getting dumber or less capable. Parents are getting busier. Grad school is the single biggest deterrent to Elsie's training. After last week, I am convinced that if I were home every day, and she never wore pants, in two weeks she would be able to let me know every time she had to go.

It's thrilling! Really and truly, potty training is thrilling. How many parents dread this as some terrible, disgusting chore? I always thought it would be that way, but even the bad parts aren't so bad at all. Cleaning a poop off the floor is no harder than cleaning it off of my daughter's precious skin. More importantly, learning to read my daughter like this and seeing when she learns new things about herself, it's incredible. Every part of a child's life is like this. They have to learn EVERYTHING -- and they do. Somehow, they learn everything. It's such a joy to share in all this discovery!

Updates

2011-02-17T14:45:00.003-05:00

So much has happened since I last wrote that I don't even know where to start, so today I'll do a bullet entry. Quick updates with pictures.

1) Elsie is walking like a pro. No more of that wobbly teetering from person to person. She is shooting off with a sense of purpose wherever her little legs can take her. Look at her go! Go, Elsie, go!

Yesterday, she and I went for a walk. Not with a stroller. Not with a carrier. Just the two of us and our own four feet and matching shearling boots. Elsie enjoyed the experience very much, chasing the cat up and down the street over and over and over again.

My little dear!

2) It snowed a lot. We had some snow days. Our roof leaked. Elsie's rash persisted. Elsie got sick again. She cried a lot. I got sick. Elsie got even sicker and cried some more. Sad times all around.

Strep in her throat, strep in her pants, an ear-
infection, and cutting a molar. What a week!

3) This horrific rash and all our illness actually helped our potty training tremendously. Because Elsie and I had to stay home so much, and because her bum was so sore, I rolled up the rugs in our house, turned up the heat, and let her go nakey-bum for days at a time. Naked babies learn the fastest, and Elsie hit a huge milestone despite all her week's woes. She started to signal me BEFORE she had to go. Not every time, but more and more as the week wore on. That's a very big deal.

This picture isn't so recent. When I do nakey-bum
time I put her in shirts that don't snap between the
legs so that she doesn't wet them when she pees.

4) Hub and I took a weekend away. Our first weekend away since the birth of little Elsie Rose! We left her with my parents, packed up our skis (cross-country) and headed North. This is the last picture we took before putting away the camera and enjoying our freedom and each other's company, delicious, rich meals and lots and lots of exercise and fresh air. It was amazing!

Taken at the top of the Kankamangus Highway

That's all for now! More on baby illness and potty training to come.

Sick!

2011-02-07T15:55:00.005-05:00

Sorry for the huge hiatus in posting.

We've been down and out with a few bugs in this house. Most recently, a nasty cold that's had my glands painfully swollen for 4 days. No wonder Elsie kept waking up crying in the middle of the night last week! The preceding bug was a tummy virus. It was completely disgusting!

Commence the obligatory baby poo story! I don't think I've told one of these yet. If you find poop to be not at all funny, or if you are eating your lunch, now is your chance to escape.

A week ago, Friday, I could tell something was up with Elsie. She didn't seem to want any of her breakfast, and she usually LOVES oatmeal. She even shoved away her milk, and the girl is usually a dairy addict. I usually give feeding a few tries, and if she seems really not to want a meal, I let it go. She'll eat when she's hungry. So she went off to daycare without breakfast.

When Hub picked her up that night, the ladies reported that Elsie had thrown up after her nap. At most daycare, this is the point at which they call you and tell you to leave work immediately and come get your baby. Not at Columbian daycare. At Columbian daycare, they give your daughter extra love for the rest of the day and inform you when you pick her up that she needs continued attention when she gets home.

When Elsie cried in the middle of the night, I dragged myself out of bed immediately. I was expecting vomit.

Nope! No no no. Anyone with a nose could tell that the other end was to blame. Her whole room stank.

Elsie has not had a blowout since we put her in fuzzi bunz at 6 weeks old. A messy leak? Sure. But not the geyser-type action of an honest-to-goodness blowout.

So you can imagine my surprise when I removed her sleeping sack, and unzipped her footies to reveal diarrhea from her neck to her toes. Not a speck of skin was spared. She was completely coated. I can not even imagine the force of the explosion that caused that mess!

"HUB!!!" The alarm rang out. "We need an emergency bath!!!"

I don't know how single mothers or fathers do it.
You need one person to peel off the pjs, another to run the bath.
One to make a few pathetic attempts with the wet wipes, and another to grab loads of towels.
One to transport the baby to the bathroom, and another to receive her.
One to change his now poop-smeared outfit and another to wash the miserable, screaming baby at 3:00 in the morning.
One to clean up the changing station and find a clean set of pajamas, another to bring the now clean-ish baby, still screaming, and get her dressed up again.
One to start the emergency load of wee-hour laundry, another to change her filthy baby-handling clothes, so that she can attend to the child.
Last, but not least, you need someone to clean out the thoroughly contaminated bathtub, and someone to calm the cold, wet, rashy, uncomfortable, sick, tired little baby and get her back to bed.

And that is what it's all about.

Just kidding. There's way more to parenthood than the poop-slposions. But they do make for funny stories.

I'm happy to report that Elsie is back in fine spirits again, though she's still nursing a nasty and persistent rash from the experience and might have to see the pedi about it tomorrow. Oh well. More pants-free time for us. I've rolled up the rugs and we chase her around with old towels. No harm in peeing on the floor. And after last week, a little stray pee seems downright hygienic.

Toddling Along

2011-01-20T09:15:00.005-05:00

Elsie walks!

And it is SO much fun.

I love watching as she shows more and more of her personality. Elsie is a cautious baby. She does things in a measured, calculated, careful way. She is coordinated because she is attentive. She thinks before she acts. She almost never hits her head. She almost never falls down. She is capable of climbing stairs, but she chooses not to. I can turn my back on her in her playroom and know that she's not going to pull heavy things off of tables or try to clamber up the shelves. This isn't the case for more adventurous babies.

When it comes to walking, she's been physically able to walk for months now, taking a few steps every now and then when she is too distracted to realize what she's doing, but she still chooses to crawl almost all of the time. Monday was a breakthrough day for Elsie. She still cruises around the safety of the furniture or crawls across an open space, but on Monday, she started exploring her capabilities and pushing her boundaries. The walking game was too much fun to pass up!

If you're interested in watching more of this, there's a longer cut (over 5 min) here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-wreb_KUeM

D&C

2011-01-10T18:23:00.006-05:00

I had my D&C this morning.

It went fine. Very easy. They knocked me out for the procedure. I remember going into the OR very nervous. Cold room. Bright lights. Doctors and nurses in masks and hair nets. They tried to set me at ease, asking me about Elsie and how she sleeps. When they heard (12-13 hours a night, every night, solidly), they laughed. "You shouldn't let Dr. A hear you say that. She's got a 9 month old who hasn't slept through the night yet!"

First thought: Poor thing!
Second thought: Wait a second, you want to put someone who has been without sleep for almost a year in charge of my anesthesia?

Well, I didn't worry about that (or anything) for long, because Dr. A promptly shot my IV full of happy drugs, someone put an oxygen mask on me, and that's the last thing I remember.

When I awoke -- nevermind, I don't remember waking up. My memory returns sometime after that, when I was being wheeled down the hall, chatting drunkenly to all the nurses and giving Dr. A all kinds of advice on how to get her child to sleep better. Inhibitions lowered, I had no compunctions pushing early bed-times, crying it out, and wearing ear plugs to bed on someone I didn't know at all. Classy. Everyone loves unsolicited child rearing advice from the mother of a champion sleeper, I'm sure.

When my nurse, Debbie, wheeled me out of the L&D ward in the wheelchair, I passed Judy in the hall. Judy is the nurse who helped me through the last 13 hours of my labor.

"Judy! You delivered my baby!" I yelled.

"When?" she asked

"13 months ago!" And that was all I got the chance to say. We had to close the door before we set off the baby-napping alarms. I ought to have said, "Thank you!" because Judy was great. Intense. Brusque. Curt. But great. Really great.

Hub brought me home, where I proceeded to throw a hissy fit about the messy state of the house that I blame on the drugs, though it's hard to tell. I do hate a messy house. He went to work. I blinked, and three hours had gone by. Yay anesthesia!

My family took care of Elsie today, even after bringing her home. My cramping increased through the day, and I don't feel confident picking her up. It's not too terrible. There is some bleeding. I'm keeping an eye on it. I'm glad I took the day off.

Hopefully that's that. Dr. F assures me it went well. The procedure was not bad, and it has lifted a huge burden off of me. No more waiting. Thank goodness for that!

A Little Bug

2011-01-09T20:58:00.003-05:00

Quick update: D&C scheduled for tomorrow morning, first thing. I get my own OB, which is nice. Elsie is staying with my parents tonight. I just can't turn off that part of my brain that constantly scans for her little peeps and murmurs at night. It's very quiet here, even though the only noise I'm missing is a deep-slumbering baby.

This weekend, my brother turned 26 and celebrated the occasion at the local dive bar with a handful of friends and family. This is not Elsie's first time at the local dive! She was there a year ago. Remember when she was this tiny?

Neither do I.

Hub and I worried that Elsie might not make the party on Saturday, because Friday she was running a fever, and Saturday morning she appeared to be manifesting the diarrhea that has been going around all the daycare families this week. She was cranky when we put her down for her afternoon nap at my parents'.

I made the mistake of telling Grandmama (you remember my G-mama) that Elsie wasn't feeling entirely up to snuff. For the next several hours, she obsessed over it.

"Oh, I'm so SORRY!" she told me, over and over again.
"I just feel so badly for that poor little thing!" She murmured like a mantra, all through Elsie's nap.
"How terrible!" You could see the worry churning in her. She just couldn't let it go.

I deal with this in the way that most cocky granddaughters deal with their ninety-something-year-old grandmothers. I rolled my eyes at her anxiety and swore to myself that I'd keep my big mouth shut next time. I feel, and pretty strongly, that these little bugs are just part of growing up, and an important part! I want Elsie's immune system to get tested. I want her body to catalog a nice range of common colds and low-grade fevers and even icky tummies. Illness isn't any fun, and I do get worried when she runs a high fever (roseola scared me a bit), but I'd drive myself nuts if I fretted over every cold. She is, after all, a daycare baby.

Hub, who is not a jerk like his wife, refrained from rolling his eyes. Instead, he asked Grandmama about what sicknesses her children contracted when they were young, and then about what illnesses Grandmama herself had as a child. Her answer broke from the mold of stories we've heard 200 times, and reminded me that I ought to be more sympathetic.

She recounted the story of my mother and aunt getting the mumps on their family vacation. All her children got the measles. When she was a child, she was never allowed to share food or drink with anybody for fear of polio. And when she was a baby, she caught whooping cough.

"You've never seen anything like a mother holding her baby, almost choking to death in her arms with that terrible cough. And there's nothing she could do about it."

That does put it in perspective. My brother was an anomaly because he caught the measles from his vaccination. To us, polio and small pox are extinct like the mastodon, and offer just as much physical threat. Though whooping cough does go around the high school world occasionally, I've never had to listen to a child in choking fits. And Elsie -- she's from a whole new generation. She will never have to get the chicken pox, nor the excruciating shingles from which both of my grandmothers suffer.

How lucky we are that Elsie only ever gets colds and low-grade fevers. Though I'm very hippie and natural and holistic in many ways, I strongly support the use of childhood vaccinations, and Elsie has had all of her vaccines except for the last of her stomach flu series (which gave her bad side-effects and only protects for a couple of years anyway). It is a very different world where you don't have to stay home with your child on quarantine because something life-threatening sweeps through the neighborhood every couple of months. How strange it must be to Grandmama that we now send our babies to daycare centers to be among many other babies, sniffling noses running all over everything they touch. How very strange that it is safe to do this.

Elsie woke from her nap refreshed and energetic, and made her date at the party. Since then, we've had a few sniffles and low appetite, but nothing serious. No need to bat an eyelash. Welcome to the future.

Change of Mind

2011-01-07T19:11:00.003-05:00

The waiting is getting to me. Badly. I won't go deep into details, but this waiting is so hard that I've recently started to look like one of those check lists for clinical depression symptoms.

Week 5, I learned I was pregnant.
Week 6, I started feeling my pregnancy symptoms.
week 7, morning sickness was almost unbearable.
Week 8, my pregnancy symptoms dropped off.
Week 9, I had my ultrasound and learned the bad news. I was sad and disappointed. I cried. I reminded myself of all that I have to be grateful for (and it is much) and all the things that could be worse (and they are many). I came to (mostly) accept that I'm not pregnant anymore, and that felt good.

Week 10, Christmas night, I faced a challenge to this acceptance. I lost my appetite. I fell suddenly ill and exhausted. At 2:00 in the morning, after lying awake for hours and hours trying not to think about food (why is that so hard when you're feeling ill?), trying not to smell every little thing, I woke my entire household with violent vomiting. I kept thinking: "This is morning sickness." It about drove me to distraction.

I called the doctor on call the next morning and told him that my pregnancy symptoms were coming back. He dismissed my concerns in a tone that let me know just how idiotic they sounded to someone with his vast academic background in the female body. "If you're miscarrying, when the hormones are gone, they're gone. They don't come back. Ever. You just have a stomach bug."

He was right, of course, if not in bedside manner than in diagnosis. I had some sort of stomach flu, and it made it's terrible way through the rest of my family, one by one.

It's emotionally exhausting waiting for a miscarriage. There's a good dose of dread. I don't want to miscarry because it's going to hurt badly. I'm going to throw up more. I will bleed heavily, and perhaps suddenly. Most of all, it means the doctors were right, and it's really over.

This doubt is so stupid. I know they're right. I saw the ultrasound myself. That gestational sack was empty. Even without that evidence, I know my body and I know myself and I know my pregnancy, and I know that it's over. But until the bleeding starts in earnest, there's always that tiny iota of doubt that flooded me when I got the stomach flu.

Week 11, I cramped at my desk. I walked home to avoid making a mess at school. All I felt in that moment of hasty retreat was relief. Finally, it would end. But the cramping stopped, and all I had to show for it was light spotting.

It isn't often that you feel as low as I've felt lately and you can (a) identify what is bothering you and (b) fix it. That is the situation I find myself in now. I need my closure, and it is within my power to get it.

I called my doctor on Wednesday and asked for chlomid. She prescribed me four tablets that would bring on contractions when administered vaginally. By the time Hub came home with the pills, I had chickened out and decided not to take them. I don't want to make my pain and nausea worse than it has to be.

Today is 12 weeks, the would-be end of my first trimester. I called the doctor again to ask for a D&C instead. They must think I'm crazy, but they promptly obliged. My D&C is set for Monday, very early. I will be asleep. My OB will preform the operation. When I wake up, this will finally be over.

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-30T09:56:00.004-05:00

Merry Christmas, everyone! (I keep saying that until Epiphany, because it excuses me from being late.)

For those just checking in for a miscarriage update, none yet. I'm still waiting (which is still my choice, for now, supported by my doctor). I got some blood work done yesterday and I will keep you posted on the results. Thank you for all your kind wishes and thoughts and sweet words about it. I am lucky to be so well supported.

Now, Christmas!

Though Hub has been struggling with the ethical intricacies of perpetuating a Santa myth in our home, Santa himself ignored all of Hub's misgivings and came to visit anyway. After all, Elsie has been a very good girl!

Hub and I didn't get Elsie any toys for Christmas. Daycare gave her a big, farm-themed sorting toy before the break, and plenty of other people were lined up to give her toys, so I got her books and a new pair of soft leather shoes from Hub's homeland (New Zealand). Though I'm sure it makes me sound Grinch-like, Elsie just loves books, those soft, thin shoes are perfect for tiny walking (or almost walking) feet, and one new toy is really plenty of excitement for a one-year-old.

The big green box has been a fixation of Elsie's ever since it appeared under the tree. She must have had a premonition, because every time we went to my parents' house, she made a bee-line for the tree to either (a) pull all the ornaments off of the lowest branches, or (b) bang on that box over and over and over. How did she know that banging on that box was just the right thing to do? Meet this home's newest musician:

Elsie's other toy was a ramp tower with balls that you force through tight holes with a hammer. Very tight holes, with a very small hammer. The moral of this Christmas is clearly "HIT IT!" After all the adults had a turn wailing on that toy, bruising wooden balls and tiring wrists, still barely able to force them through, we set the ramp aside and let Elsie at the balls, which was all she really wanted, anyway.

Two toys was a lot of excitement. Elsie was visibly overwhelmed, so we put everything else (books, outfits, etc.) away, and let her at her drum and balls for the rest of the day. She was one happy camper!

I love that drum. Yes, it makes noise, but a mellower noise than pots and pans, and a much more welcome and creative noise than those terrible, high-pitched electric baby songs that play two measures at a time, over and over again, eternally, at the push of a little plastic button. (A decade of babysitting embittered me towards certain kinds of over-stimulation.) Okay, maybe I am a bit of a Grinch, but my shriveled heart grows three sizes when I see Elsie bopping to the beat of the music I play and feeling her way around making her own rhythms on her new instrument.

I didn't mean for my Christmas entry to be so fixated on gifts! We also did many lovely things over the weekend that centered around family and friends and, of course, delicious food.

I wouldn't give up Elsie's 6:00 pm bedtime for anything because she thrives on it (and so do Hub and I), but it can be a bit restrictive for our social life. As a special treat, we stayed the entire weekend at my parents. Elsie made a shy appearance at cocktail hour, and Hub and I were able to enjoy the company of our loved ones for hours after the little lady closed her sweet eyes. The best of both worlds!

Update

2010-12-24T11:37:00.002-05:00

Thank you for all the sweet words and strong thoughts and well-wishes.

I am feeling considerably better than last week. I still have not miscarried, nor have I yet intervened to hurry things up. It's something I consider every day, and I'm not sure exactly how this will go and what I will choose in the end, but at this point, I'm waiting and hoping I make it through Christmas without trouble. And if I miscarry on Christmas? Well at least there will be many, many helping hands to look after Elsie and after me.

Though I'm still dreading the logistics of the actual miscarriage or intervention, I'm already feeling better emotionally. In my head, I'm not pregnant anymore, and that has proved an important shift. Life's just easier being not pregnant than it is being pregnant but empty. I may revisit some of those feelings when the miscarriage happens, but I am encouraged at how swiftly my feelings of loss have faded away.

Elsie and Hub have each helped enormously. Hub has been supportive in all the right ways, saying the right thing at the right time, every time (which is quite the feat!). Elsie needs only chortle at me or smile up at me saying, "Mee-Mee!" (her adorable approximation of "mommy") and I can't help but smile, too. She's quite the ray of sunshine!

Thanks again for all the support and kindness. Merry Christmas!

I'll be back soon with Elsie stories and pictures. I've got quite the collection piling up! And I even found some more Hawaii pictures stashed away on another memory card.

Bad News

2010-12-20T14:01:00.003-05:00

I'm pregnant again.

That's not the bad news.

The bad news is that the pregnancy isn't viable. I'm going to have a miscarriage.

I chose not to share this pregnancy on my blog as soon as I discovered it for a variety of reasons, one of which being what if it doesn't work out? More people I know personally read my blog now than did when I was trying with Elsie, and I didn't necessarily want to get everyone involved from the beginning, so I've been keeping my secret. Here I am, writing about it anyway.

This pregnancy was a little different than Elsie's from the beginning. My earliest symptom here was a heavy feeling in my uterus that, along with a missed period, prompted me to take a pregnancy test one morning -- two lines, clear as day. Morning sickness set in early and ramped up quickly. I was queasy and exhausted in Hawaii at 6 weeks, and by the time I was studying for my exams at 8 weeks, I could barely function. I crawled under my dining room table to take a nap because the idea of walking to the couch was just too overwhelming. I gagged on home-made chicken soup, unable to get it down. I could only eat popcorn.

Then, suddenly, I felt better. I didn't feel sick anymore. I could smell anything and not gag. I passed my exam quite neatly, and then regained my appetite, too. That's really how I knew something was wrong -- when I could think about Brussels sprouts without choking, I knew it was bad news. Then I started spotting.

I had an ultrasound on Friday, 9 weeks. It was a nervous ultrasounds, where bad news is expected and the technician is not allowed to say a word to you about what she sees for fear of law-suit. I had braced myself for bad news, and I searched the screen, waiting to see her try for a heartbeat, but I never saw anything that looked embryonic, and she never took a heartbeat. She didn't say a word.

I asked to speak to the radiologist, and she said that I could, but then took it back ten minutes later, dismissing me without my news. "There's nobody here to see you. Someone will call."

A doctor called at the very end of the day, hours after my ultrasound. I was beside myself with the wait. She told me that there is no embryo. Nothing at all. I am pregnant. I have a placenta and a gestational sack full of amniotic fluid, but it is empty.

It's bizarre and shocking, but not unusual. Mine is an anembryonic pregnancy, also known as blighted ovum. There was an egg. It was fertilized by a sperm. Very early on, something was wrong, probably a chromosomal abnormality, maybe a problem with the egg itself. The pregnancy charged ahead, without a passenger, growing a placenta which burrowed into the endometrum and and flooded my system with HCG (the positive pregnancy test hormone), making me queasy and moody and exhausted and a very picky eater -- making me pregnant.

Now I'm in limbo. I have to decide whether to wait or take action. I have three options:

No intervention
Abortion Drugs
D & C

My natural inclination is to wait and let things take their course, but it is emotionally difficult, not knowing what's coming or when. I dread the miscarriage. I expect cramping on the scale of those terrible days I had as a teenager, pre-birthcontrol pills. I'd writhe and pace and vomit all day. It was horrible. I feel like a ticking time bomb. A ticking time bomb who brings an extra pair of pants to school in case she makes a mess of herself at her work-place. A ticking time bomb who might ruin Christmas. Or New Years. Or sometime in February. Who knows.

But intervention isn't a perfect alternative. It certainly helps with the unpredictable timing, but medicated miscarriage won't alleviate my discomfort, just start it sooner. D & C (dilation and curettage, where they open the cervix and scrape out the contents of the uterus), may be the most predictable and may grant me the most effective pain meds, but it carries a small risk of scarring, puncture, and infection that could render me infertile.

I talked to my doctor about it today. I asked her my questions. She recommends waiting if I can stand it, taking the drugs if I can't, avoiding D & C if possible. Reasonable advice. If I stay undecided long enough, my body will eventually decide for me.

It's terribly disappointing. This pregnancy wasn't planned, but it was welcome. I was sure it was a girl. I love the idea that Elsie would have a younger sister so close in age. I felt ready to do this all again. It's terribly sad to have all that excitement stripped away.

But I'm going to be alright. I'm not losing my baby, I'm losing my pregnancy. My baby is Elsie, and she's the best baby in the world (according to me). Hub has been wonderfully supportive of everything, the pregnancy, the miscarriage, everything. And someday, when we get through it all, we'll try again. But, for now, it's bad news.

Hawaii Pictures

2010-12-13T14:52:00.003-05:00

Starting with the birthday girl! I made a cake on her birthday. We tried to eat it every night for three nights, but she was too crabby and had to be put right to bed instead. On night four, we finally manage to light the candle and take some pictures before the meltdown, though she never did get a taste of that cake.

The recipe? Box devil's food cake in 9" pans, cut to make 4 layers and "frosted" with fresh whipped cream. Try it! The whipped cream is 100x better than frosting.

This candle, courtesy of one great aunt. We realized after arriving in Hawaii that we probably should not have endeavored to fly with such an explosive party favor! Hub didn't manage to catch it on camera, but when you light the candles, it starts a jet of flame that shoots about 10" into the air, throwing sparks everywhere. The flower blooms and spins (or would have spun if the spring hadn't fallen out in our luggage) and it plays a song. You have to physically cut a wire to stop the song, and the flame was so hot it melted the plastic all over the cake. Pretty awesome!

We don't have any beach shots of Elsie, because crabby, exhausted babies hate the beach, but we did go to the aquarium! Her favorite exhibit? The jellyfish.

My daughter loves sushi! I couldn't be happier. She barely ate anything but yogurt the entire trip, but we got sushi takeaway in Waikiki, and Elsie LOVED it. She loved the rice, the seaweed, the rho, the raw fish... everything.

We visited two botanical gardens. This is the jungle garden, part of the University of Hawaii. It was incredibly beautiful. A few shots of Elsie when she wasn't fussing.

And that's that! Sorry I don't have more Hawaii-esque pictures for you, but Elsie was not feeling particularly photogenic for most of the trip.

The return home has been much smoother. She was so well-behaved on the flights. She started sleeping longer as soon as we arrived home, got her naps back in no time, and we broke the co-sleeping habit again -- a must when going from the king bed of vacation to the modest full-sized bed of home, and when having to wake for work in the morning.

I'll confess, we did have to totally re-do cry-it-out, but just three days, and she was back on track. She is totally back to her old, cheerful, easygoing self. Hooray for that!

Long story short, Hawaii is amazing. AMAZING. I recommend it to anyone. Anyone who has a babysitter to stay home with the baby.

Birthday Girl

2010-12-02T23:57:00.002-05:00

I almost forgot: Elsie is 1!

She also took two stumbling steps towards her uncle Matt the other day.

What officially makes a toddler? Is it reaching a certain age? Is it learning to walk?

I'm going to argue that it is learning the word, "NO!" and making it the favorite. If that is the case, then we have a toddler on our hands!

Elsie's first word was "BABY." She'd say it so sweetly and clearly when we picked her up out of her crib in the morning, and every time she caught herself in the mirror.

A couple of weeks went by, and she came home from daycare one day, looked me straight in the eye, and said, "BIG GIRL!" Then tore off on a mad crawl around the house, chanting, "Big girl! Big girl! Big girl! Big girl!"

Now it's "NO!" Or, more accurately, "NAH!"

"Here, Elsie, Eat this."
"NAH!"
"Do you want some milk?"
"NAH!"
"Is 'NO' your favorite word?"
"NAH! NAH! NAH!"

All these refusals are accompanied by a head cocked aloof, as though smelling something yucky, and a hand waving its vigorous refusal at the end of a rigid arm -- Elsie's very own home-made baby-sign for "no."

Happy birthday to my little toddler.

Vacation

2010-12-02T23:33:00.003-05:00

Apologies in advance! No pictures yet. I'll post some when I get home.

Here's a brief summary of how this vacation is going:

Hawaii is gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful. We're staying on Oahu, and even though a lot of people had told me that it's too crowded or touristy, I think it's lovely! I don't know what I was expecting, Florida? But it's a lot better than that. Fewer gated communities and golf courses. Less lawn. More mountains, trees, and gardens. Better-integrated towns. A younger, fitter population. The beaches are gorgeous, the landscape is stunning, and I really like the town we're staying in. I even found a great yoga studio!

No offense to Florida. I thoroughly enjoy my vacations there, too, but spend them in a retirement community, which might slant my view of things.

The house that hub's family rented is beautiful and very livable and baby-friendly. The family is all pitching in and has even taken up cooking, which is lovely! Elsie is the star of the show, and we are very well supported when it comes to her care.

Elsie preformed impressively on her first big set of flights. She cried only a few times, for less than 5 minutes. She refused all food but yogurt, but at least I thought to buy lots of yogurt at the airport. Buying her her own seat was expensive, but very, very helpful. It was great to be able to set her down in her carseat. She even got a few catnaps in.

Unfortunately, she has not dealt at all well with jetlag. The difference is 5 hours, and it has been torture. At home, Elsie almost never cries. When she fusses, you know she's getting a tooth or a bug. She loves bedtime, and when you put her down in her crib, she actually gets visibly excited.

In Hawaii, she cries and fusses constantly. We gave up on soothing her to sleep after the first few days, and now she wails inconsolably for an hour -- just like at 5 months when we first started with cry-it-out. I'm sure this sounds cruel to some readers, but I promise, soothing her doesn't make it better, just makes it take longer. Most nights, she wakes up three times. THREE TIMES! She hasn't done that since she was about two months old. She won't go back to sleep in her crib (which is in our room), and we have gotten into the bad habit of bringing her into bed with us in the middle of the night. (Bad for my sleep rather than bad for the baby.) She is only getting 8-10 hours of sleep a night (compared to her usual 12-13) and naps not at all (compared to her usual 2-3 hours). She's so exhausted that she doesn't know what to do with herself.

Hub and his mom have taken most of the long-term wee-hour soothings, which is generuos of them and lucky for me, but I still get the other two a night, and usually I still lie awake through the long-hauls as well. I am exhausted. They are exhausted. Worst of all, Elsie is exhausted.

So there you have the two sides of the coin. Tropical paradise, loving and supportive family, and all around perfect vacation... except for the exhausted baby and mama. Coming home is going to be terrible.

Travel Plans

2010-11-22T19:55:00.005-05:00

We're going to meet Hub's family in Hawaii right after Thanksgiving.

I know what you're thinking. It's what everyone thinks. I see the excitement well up vicariously in everyone I tell. Occasionally there's a twinge of jealousy that flickers across the face. In typical petty grad-school fashion, I can read the, "slacker!" in some of my peers' countenance, but for the most part, it's: "AWESOME! You're so lucky!"

I don't feel awesome, and I don't feel lucky. I don't feel like a slacker, either, because I feel like this is just another obligation in another facet of my life that I have to fulfill. I am terrified of this trip and completely overwhelmed with stress. I want to stay home in my routine and my schedule and get one week closer to graduating. How pathetic is that?

I'm not always this negative about travel. I do, in theory, understand the appeal of Hawaii. It looks like a beautiful place. I love the beach. I would benefit from a tan. My cuticles could really use a break from this dry, New England winter. Most importantly, I desperately need a vacation.

But this trip isn't registering as a relaxing, tropical vacation. In my head, this trip is traveling for 13 hours with a one-year-old in an airplane across five hours of time zones to a family vacation of a family that should be (but is not quite) my own, and who doesn't cook. A baby screaming in pain from ear pressure in an airplane, a total destruction of healthy sleep habits with jet-lag, and the great unknown that is when I will eat next. I feel like hyperventilating.

I am not a laid back person. I know that I ought to be, but I am not, and relaxation is not something one can successfully force.

For the past months, I've been dealing with this vacation by thinking about Thanksgiving instead. Thanksgiving is such a traditional, conservative holiday. It's an event that doesn't disturb naps or bedtimes, and there's ALWAYS enough food. It's such a comfortable, relaxing contrast to my impending doom. The date is fast approaching, and I am finding it increasingly difficult to ignore my reluctant adventure.

Any tips for traveling with a one-year-old? Goodness knows I could use a strategy.

10 Minute Blog: Sick Baby

2010-11-21T12:56:00.005-05:00

This is not the first time Elsie has been sick. Being a daycare baby, she is with a cold more often than she is without one. So, too, are we, her parents. The daycare ladies are incredibly clean. They wipe down all droolable, knawable, and stickily pawable surfaces every day, but even those valiant efforts are no match for ten germy kids.

One thing that is rather unique about our daycare, is that they do not send children home sick unless they feel there is a medical emergency. They will call me at work if they ever want me to come take Elsie to the doctor, but not for lesser complaints . This shocked me when I first realized it, but I have since come to understand and appreciate that these women feel that it is their responsibility to care for all of their charges as best they can, and that means taking care of them even when they're under the weather. It's like having family take care of your kids. They're very concerned with taking care of the kids, and not very concerned about lawsuits.

It was not, then, a huge surprise when Hub came home with Elsie on Friday and reported,

"Mary says she's sick. She's got a fever. She was fussy and miserable all afternoon."

Indeed, she did have a fever. About 100 F, which is not a high fever in baby terms. The doctor once told me to call if her fever got above 104 F, but not to worry about anything less.

Saturday was a long day of soothing a fussy baby and trying to get fluids in her despite her objections. Most offers of milk or formula or coconut water (which she usually loves) were met with a stern, "Nah!" head held high in the air and turned aside, as though the drink came with an offending odor, and hand extended full-length, shaking vigorously to drive the point home.

Last night was a very, very long one. Elsie woke over and over and over again, crying loudly in a sad little heap, too tired to get up and shake the rails of her crib the way she usually does. We were able to sooth her a couple of times, first with a bottle, then with a change into lighter, clean, dry pjs, but by the time 5:00 rolled around, she could not be comforted. It took an hour of her discomfort and frustration before we started pulling up Sesame St. on youtube as a distraction. Pure gold!

At that point, I got a call back from the doctor on call, who took me through some ear-infection tests and decided that Elsie is probably better off at home than in the examining room. She seemed apologetic, but I'm relieved. I don't like giving her medicine unless it's necessary, and to hear that she'll likely kick this herself is reassuring.

I am exhausted. I failed to appreciate, before I was a parent, that having a sick baby means being up all night, helplessly trying to deduct the source of your child's agony. But there you have it!

(Still working on this 10 minute thing. I cheated, this one took me 15, and now it's back to my homework.)

Potty Training 1

2010-11-20T19:01:00.003-05:00

Today, my potty-training approach!

As Elsie is only 1, I am not starting this with any specific end date in mind. My tactic is just to do what I can in the following areas:

Teach Elsie what wet and dry feel like
Make her aware that she pees and poops
Help her recognize when she is eliminating waste
Start breaking the year-long habit of putting all her waste in her diaper
Get her used to sitting on the potty so that it isn't a big deal and it's not scary

I'll outline some of my current methods below.

New Words:
I'm teaching Elsie a couple of new words and concepts. I use the sign for potty (ASL "t" shaken in the air) and dirty (wiggle your fingers under your chin) and diaper (pat your hip). She takes to signs pretty well when they represent something useful to her like book (her favorite thing!), more (more oyster crackers, please!) and all-done! (She actually made up her own sign for this one). Getting her to embrace signs for concepts she doesn't care about is harder, but I trust that she'll pick them up eventually if I remember to use them.

I'm also working on the concepts of temperature and dampness by saying "cold and wet!" when I wipe her face or her bum with a wet cloth, "warm and wet!" at bath time, and "all clean and dry!" when I wrap her in a towel after her bath, or put on a new diaper.

Potty time:
Every morning, I change her and feed her first thing, so that she's in a good mood. Then, if I have a few minutes, I put her on a potty seat on the toilet. The first time I did this, she peed right away! It was very encouraging! Every single time she pees, I make a "ssssssss" noise, so that she might someday learn to associate that noise with the act of urination. If she pees on the toilet, I then congratulate her, give her a hug, and take her off.

If she doesn't pee on the toilet, that's totally fine. I try to keep her on for a few minutes. Maybe 2-5 minutes, depending on her mood. I read her books. I sing to her. I play peek-a-boo. If she's really not having it, I lift her off and don't make any further deal of it. The point is to get her used to this idea, not to torture her and make her dread potty time. At some point, I had to get her used to the idea of eating at the table and wearing socks. Potty time is just one more thing which she will come to expect as inevitable and routine with enough practice. At least, that is the idea.

Naked time:
If I have more time in the morning, like an extra 20 - 30 minutes, I give her naked time. I take her up to her room where there are no rugs, only hardwood, and I take off her diaper. I give her some leg-warmers to fend off the chilly morning. Then I just sit back with a tall pile of diaper rags, and watch her as she crawls around bare-bottomed.

Eventually, she pees on the floor. I make the "ssssssss" sound. This isn't an accident. It's the entire point of the exercise. By watching Elsie closely, I'm hoping to pick up her signals so that I can tell when she's urinating even if she's wearing a diaper. She has a tell! Every time, she gets down on one knee (like some young man proposing) and pauses what she's doing. Now I can be alert for that signal all day.

Peeing without a diaper also allows Elsie some immediate feedback about her body. The wetness down her legs is likely more startling than what she's used to in her diaper. Furthermore, this exercise should help her unwind all that she's learned up to now about the importance of putting her waste in her diaper. My book (Early Start Potty Training) says that we teach a baby only to pee in her diaper by acting shocked and horrified when she urinates mid-diaper-change. By the time a child is 2 or 3, she will have learned that putting the waste in the diaper every time is what she ought to do.

The downside of this exercise is pretty obvious, and that's why I always bring a big pile of rags. It's messy. Elsie crawls away from her little puddle, and I go clean it up and change her legwarmers if they got in the way. Then I wait for the next puddle. To make it more sanitary, I usually do naked time after her morning poop, though I could just dive in with a bowl under her butt if I saw her squat and grunt.

Cloth diapering:
Being the faithful readers that you are, you know that I've used cloth from very early on. One of cloth's greatest advantages is that all cloth materials, no matter how absorbent, allow a baby to feel wet when she is wet. Disposable diapers have chemicals in them that bind to the water, making the diaper feel dry even when it has been heavily used. Maybe this is why babies in cloth supposedly train, on average, a year earlier than babies in disposables.

Or maybe it's that moms get sick of doing the wash as the poops just keep getting grosser. I'll admit it, I ordered all three potty training books and the potty seat during a week-long episode of disgusting, sticky, FREQUENT Elsie diarrhea. A girl needs something to look forward to on tough days like that.

I didn't have to change anything to use cloth. It's already my method. It's something to think about, though, if you're trying to train a child out of disposables, but he doesn't seem to mind or notice being wet. A different type of diaper mighty be a useful learning tool.

So that's that. I'm just trying to present her with opportunities to learn about her body more quickly than she might on her own. I have a feeling that this learning would be much more rapid if I had enough time to do naked time consistently every day, or to put her on the potty several times a day instead of just once or twice. It's hard to do this as a working mom, but I've got to start somewhere, and I'm happy to start here and take it slow.