If a picture is worth a few words, what about a few pictures?
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Appearances can be deceiving.
We were giving Maya a bath and for the first time we closed the purging valve so that the water in her little tub could rise. And than she slowly slid down to the water line so that water reached the level of her lips. Her face lit up as she got a mouth full of water. I am guessing she thought it was milk – the only liquid she has had in her mouth her entire life. And this was such an effortless reward – all you had to do is open your mouth and it would fill up with warm liquid… You should have seen how quick her expression went from bliss to stress – “it tastes nothing like milk! What kind of trick is this? And what do I do with all that non-milk in my mouth? Somebody hold me! I want my DADDY!!!”
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Wide asleep.
Maya has taught us a new concept – being wide asleep. It is a combination of being fast asleep (because it happens very fast) and wide awake (because her lips are opening very wide when she is screaming). The combination is due to the fact that there is no visible transition from one state to another. But we did manage to find a trigger for this transition – a slight change in the movement. So here is how it usually plays out: She would be fussy and noisy and one of us would put her in a sling and through a series of tries and errors find that correct combination of sleepwalking around the house and holding here and rubbing there so that she finally quiets down. And then we would continue doing what works for a few more minutes until we would risk a change in a pattern, and being experienced parent (she is more than three weeks old now) we would only change a little bit at a time. Well, turns out that my baby is better in pattern recognition than and CIA code breaker. And the moment she spots a change is the moment of lightning fast transition from fast asleep to wide awake, or peacefully quiet to furiously discontent. For example, turns out that you can not go from walking around to walking in place – you have to go to bouncing on an exercise ball first, and so on.
Another thing she learned to recognize pretty well is a barbed wire touch of a fresh diaper. Maybe after wearing a poopy diaper for a while one gets so used to this wonderful sensation that the touch of a new diaper on your skin is so painful that you just have to spray it with fresh poop to break it in. As a result we have performed a double change a few times. But we are learning – now before we change a diaper we interrogate her to make sure that she is not planning on catching us off guard. Oh, the pleasures of child rearing.
Another thing she learned to recognize pretty well is a barbed wire touch of a fresh diaper. Maybe after wearing a poopy diaper for a while one gets so used to this wonderful sensation that the touch of a new diaper on your skin is so painful that you just have to spray it with fresh poop to break it in. As a result we have performed a double change a few times. But we are learning – now before we change a diaper we interrogate her to make sure that she is not planning on catching us off guard. Oh, the pleasures of child rearing.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Quality control.
I would really like to express my gratitude to the quality control people in the diaper production plants. I am not quite sure how they do it, but I am sure happy that they produce such a reliable product. A couple of times that diaper was the only thing standing between me and me being scarred for the rest of my life. And it is not the content that haunts my dreams, it is the Force. I don’t think there are many female Jedi, but I am absolutely sure that my daughter has the Force. The Force so strong that the only thing that can actually stop it from destroying everything in its path is a well fitted diaper (newborn size, when it is nice and snug around her booty).
I only wish our washer and drier came with the same kind of quality control. Here is what happened: Yesterday I did a load of laundry – it is ok, I will wait to the roar of applause to subside. Then I had to ask my wife about the appropriate (according to her, and so according to our official family line) way to run the drier. After explaining to me that I had to turn the knob to the farthest mark away from its current position (those of you who think that I had to turn the knob 180 degrees would be equally wrong) she decided to do it herself. And this morning when she went to get the laundry out of the drier, well, it was not there. Now, I would address this problem scientifically and devise a plan of all the actions we should take to locate it, but her being a psychologist, she just looked in the washer and there it was. The explanation, of course, was that being forward looking, I asked her about how to set the dryer with accordance to our family line, before I moved the clothes, while she assumed that I actually moved them first, and than she started an empty drier. Now, this within itself could be the part where the story could have ended and I could have started talking about quality control, and so on. But wait, there is one more twist – the laundry in the washer was dry! Now you tell me if you ever thought about this type of a plot appearing anywhere other than the fictional books by Agatha Christie, or that tall English dude (something about a Canon and a Doily). So the question than, how did it get dry? First, I thought that since it is so called and the air is so dry it just dried on its own, even though the door of the washer was closed. That was clearly an absurd theory, similar to the possibility of my 19 day old daughter playing tricks on us during the night and moving the laundry around. The answer of course is … not only did I not move the laundry to the drier, I never started the washer. And now we are ready to go to that quality control issue. Would not it be nice if Frigidaire not only produced reliable appliances but also did our laundry?
I only wish our washer and drier came with the same kind of quality control. Here is what happened: Yesterday I did a load of laundry – it is ok, I will wait to the roar of applause to subside. Then I had to ask my wife about the appropriate (according to her, and so according to our official family line) way to run the drier. After explaining to me that I had to turn the knob to the farthest mark away from its current position (those of you who think that I had to turn the knob 180 degrees would be equally wrong) she decided to do it herself. And this morning when she went to get the laundry out of the drier, well, it was not there. Now, I would address this problem scientifically and devise a plan of all the actions we should take to locate it, but her being a psychologist, she just looked in the washer and there it was. The explanation, of course, was that being forward looking, I asked her about how to set the dryer with accordance to our family line, before I moved the clothes, while she assumed that I actually moved them first, and than she started an empty drier. Now, this within itself could be the part where the story could have ended and I could have started talking about quality control, and so on. But wait, there is one more twist – the laundry in the washer was dry! Now you tell me if you ever thought about this type of a plot appearing anywhere other than the fictional books by Agatha Christie, or that tall English dude (something about a Canon and a Doily). So the question than, how did it get dry? First, I thought that since it is so called and the air is so dry it just dried on its own, even though the door of the washer was closed. That was clearly an absurd theory, similar to the possibility of my 19 day old daughter playing tricks on us during the night and moving the laundry around. The answer of course is … not only did I not move the laundry to the drier, I never started the washer. And now we are ready to go to that quality control issue. Would not it be nice if Frigidaire not only produced reliable appliances but also did our laundry?
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Oral Evolution
Today she sounded like a human. Well, she sounded like a screaming human before but today it sounded like she was actually saying something and that is a big step for someone looking for big steps. At first we lovingly called her a chipmunk because when she hiccupped (and she does it a lot) she really sounded like a chipmunk. For those of you who don’t know what chipmunks sound like you really need to spend more time in the nature or you could just google it and go bowling instead. Inevitably the chipmunk would become possessed and go straight into the “Devil’s chipmunk” mode, or so we lovingly called the sounds our daughter made.
The next stage was adorable snorting sounds that reminded us of Arnold from Green Acres. If some of our international audience (and I hear I have at least one – my mom) don’t know about Arnold, well, google is still going strong. BTW, can anyone guess in what movie I first learned about Arnold? Well, if you know me at all you can pretty much narrow it down to three potential candidates: Princess Bride, Pulp Fiction, and Snatch. I am sure you got it now (it was part of the discussion about what character traits are more important, cleanliness or personality. I hope I got the latter). And so she sounded like an adorable little piggy and although we suspected that it had something to do with the amount of dry mucous accumulated in her nasal passages we did not have the heart to tell her.
As days passed, she started being more alert for longer periods of time. Each and every one of those periods would still lead to the Devil’s Chipmunk, but now we had more time to get her swaddled and rocked so sometimes we just transitioned from alert to sleeping or feeding. However, today, while she was lounging in her bouncer in the most extravagant pose, looking all around with her big brown eyes, she made a new sound which actually sounded like a human, or at least humanoid. I did not quite get what she said but it was clear enough to trace it to the correct species. I wonder what will come next? Should I hide my credit cards?
The next stage was adorable snorting sounds that reminded us of Arnold from Green Acres. If some of our international audience (and I hear I have at least one – my mom) don’t know about Arnold, well, google is still going strong. BTW, can anyone guess in what movie I first learned about Arnold? Well, if you know me at all you can pretty much narrow it down to three potential candidates: Princess Bride, Pulp Fiction, and Snatch. I am sure you got it now (it was part of the discussion about what character traits are more important, cleanliness or personality. I hope I got the latter). And so she sounded like an adorable little piggy and although we suspected that it had something to do with the amount of dry mucous accumulated in her nasal passages we did not have the heart to tell her.
As days passed, she started being more alert for longer periods of time. Each and every one of those periods would still lead to the Devil’s Chipmunk, but now we had more time to get her swaddled and rocked so sometimes we just transitioned from alert to sleeping or feeding. However, today, while she was lounging in her bouncer in the most extravagant pose, looking all around with her big brown eyes, she made a new sound which actually sounded like a human, or at least humanoid. I did not quite get what she said but it was clear enough to trace it to the correct species. I wonder what will come next? Should I hide my credit cards?
Monday, January 14, 2008
On a binge
1/14/08
Cluster feeding should really be called binge feeding. The only reason we don’t call it that is because baby are so damn cute and there is nothing cute about binging. However, I do believe that if more people called it what it is less people would be worried about being bad parents. And so we had another night of cluster feeding. For those of us who have yet to experience it let me just say that it is very similar to when you went on a drinking binge and spent the whole night going from bar to bar, drinking yourself silly, and the moment you would fall asleep … you’d reach for another drink. The only difference is that baby’s drink comes in a better package. But these little drinkers can be just as obnoxious. Maya has had a few of those in the past, and we are learning that as long as she is swallowing the milk we should just keep feeding her. The trick is to try to fit all the things you might want to do during the night (like sleep) into the few short breaks she might be gracious enough to grant you. Clearly it is much harder on the mother, since there is not much a father can do while the baby is nursing for hours on end all night long. So now, in the ungodly early hours of the morning we are hanging out while Maya’s mom is catching some sleep and Maya making the sounds of a free diver who is getting ready to try for the world record – a bunch of short breaths and then a few long ones, and repeat. I wonder if she is writing a mental blog about her experiences as well.
“Last night her milk tasted like garlic. (Of course she would not know what garlic is so she would have called it something else, maybe a spice tooth, but then again she does not know what a spice is either). I get so hungry some nights. I just feel like I need to eat all night long. I can find no comfort unless she holds me at her breast. I wish they would stop trying to put me in the bouncer – fat chance. Man, I hope that other one, the one with no milk, would stop holding me to his cheek. At least he could shave more often and use some baby oil instead of that pungent thing he soaks his face in. And what is with the flat bony chest? Grow some boobs, buddy, if you want to hold a baby! Gosh.” Man, my daughter sounds like Woody Allen, but I guess it is fitting – sleep deprived and neurotic.
Cluster feeding should really be called binge feeding. The only reason we don’t call it that is because baby are so damn cute and there is nothing cute about binging. However, I do believe that if more people called it what it is less people would be worried about being bad parents. And so we had another night of cluster feeding. For those of us who have yet to experience it let me just say that it is very similar to when you went on a drinking binge and spent the whole night going from bar to bar, drinking yourself silly, and the moment you would fall asleep … you’d reach for another drink. The only difference is that baby’s drink comes in a better package. But these little drinkers can be just as obnoxious. Maya has had a few of those in the past, and we are learning that as long as she is swallowing the milk we should just keep feeding her. The trick is to try to fit all the things you might want to do during the night (like sleep) into the few short breaks she might be gracious enough to grant you. Clearly it is much harder on the mother, since there is not much a father can do while the baby is nursing for hours on end all night long. So now, in the ungodly early hours of the morning we are hanging out while Maya’s mom is catching some sleep and Maya making the sounds of a free diver who is getting ready to try for the world record – a bunch of short breaths and then a few long ones, and repeat. I wonder if she is writing a mental blog about her experiences as well.
“Last night her milk tasted like garlic. (Of course she would not know what garlic is so she would have called it something else, maybe a spice tooth, but then again she does not know what a spice is either). I get so hungry some nights. I just feel like I need to eat all night long. I can find no comfort unless she holds me at her breast. I wish they would stop trying to put me in the bouncer – fat chance. Man, I hope that other one, the one with no milk, would stop holding me to his cheek. At least he could shave more often and use some baby oil instead of that pungent thing he soaks his face in. And what is with the flat bony chest? Grow some boobs, buddy, if you want to hold a baby! Gosh.” Man, my daughter sounds like Woody Allen, but I guess it is fitting – sleep deprived and neurotic.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Feed the parents
1/13/08
One of the best things about being a new dad, aside from the obvious joys, is all the free food you can get out of it. It started in the hospital – every time my wife got a tray of delicious hospital food, the nurses offered me a tray as well. I guess it was worth spending all those hours in front of the mirror practicing the “puss in boots” eyes. A little digression and a word of advice for all the expecting fathers – find out if the cafeteria in the hospital where your wife is going to deliver is open during the night. You will be very happy if it is – nothing makes the Second Night go by easier than a diner at 3am. I had pork and kraut with mashed potatoes – party on!
Since coming home we have had a few friends come over and bring us food or cook for us – if any of the aforementioned friends are reading, we all thank you very much. And if any of the rest of the friends have not had a chance to jump on the wagon – well, we are still hungry, and we are still at the same address. Just to give you more information a dinner at our house comes with a potential baby holding, baby sleeping, baby crying, and, for the front runners of “feed the parents” competition, a baby diaper change.
One of the best things about being a new dad, aside from the obvious joys, is all the free food you can get out of it. It started in the hospital – every time my wife got a tray of delicious hospital food, the nurses offered me a tray as well. I guess it was worth spending all those hours in front of the mirror practicing the “puss in boots” eyes. A little digression and a word of advice for all the expecting fathers – find out if the cafeteria in the hospital where your wife is going to deliver is open during the night. You will be very happy if it is – nothing makes the Second Night go by easier than a diner at 3am. I had pork and kraut with mashed potatoes – party on!
Since coming home we have had a few friends come over and bring us food or cook for us – if any of the aforementioned friends are reading, we all thank you very much. And if any of the rest of the friends have not had a chance to jump on the wagon – well, we are still hungry, and we are still at the same address. Just to give you more information a dinner at our house comes with a potential baby holding, baby sleeping, baby crying, and, for the front runners of “feed the parents” competition, a baby diaper change.
The beginning
1/10/08
Today is day ten. It is really easy to remember how old your baby is if she was born on December 31st. She woke up a few times during the night but was comforted by the baby-steak or what many of us call breast milk. Right now she is sleeping in her bouncer and I am pretending to participate in the process of raising her by looking over at her every once in a while. I still get freaked out by the positions she contorts her neck into. The other day I could not find her face – she fell asleep with a hat on but then turned her head so that the hat was covering her face. I hope she will wake up before the neck starts to hurt.
It is amazing how many facial expressions she can go through in 1 minute of sleeping. Do babies dream? And if they dream what do they dream about? I am pretty sure there is quite a cast of characters. I wonder if she talks to the feeding booby in her dreams. “What is the special of the day?” Today we have milk, served at body temperature, in a plastic nipple shield. The milk has a hint of barbeque sauce, from last night’s pizza, and is particularly good on the right side.” “Wonderful, I think I could enjoy that for a while, but then I would like to have my diaper changed. And for the desert I would like the same thing but from the other side. Shaken, not stirred.”
Carlos Castaneda says that babies exist in more then just one awareness at the same time and so there is no telling how many people and other creatures they actually see at the same time. So that when I think she is smiling because I just kissed her tummy it could actually be a response to a fire dragon letting her play with its tail.
Later in the day we gave her a bath. It is really surprising that she does not mind being wet, shampooed, wet again, dried in a baby towel, and then, on top of that, taken pictures of. I have to say it made me pretty excited to participate in the bathing procedure – my wife and I managed to share the work pretty well and were done in just a few minutes.
10:21pm
Today I put my baby to sleep. And I don’t mean I put her in her pajamas, read her and book and kissed her good night. I mean I magically transformed a ten day old, fussy newborn, all the way from screaming bloody murder to, well, asleep. It felt like being the dude in charge. It felt great. Maybe for the first time I felt like I was actually useful. She has been fussy lately and would only fall asleep at her mom’s breast, which, if you have a drop of empathy, you would realize is very taxing. So today I saved Christmas.
Ok, let me take you through the steps, since I am sure you are all wondering how can an adequate, overgrown, good-for-nothing, professor do something so ordinary. Well, hush now and let me explain. We have been given a DVD called “The happiest baby on the block” which talks about the concept of the forth trimester – since humans have such big brains they are born before they are sufficiently developed but they have a calming reflex and you just need to learn to turn it on. Well, today I finally turned that sucker on. So the steps are described in five “S”s: Swaddle, Side, Shush, Swing, and Suck. So first I swaddled her (tightly wrapping in a blanket) – I have to say I am getting much better at it. Then I put her on her side. The magic touch was of course contributed by my wife (you did not really think I did it alone, did you?) – we have a toy that can make four types of white noise sound and the sound de jour was ocean waves. But it was not until I found that correct jiggle, which I thought could have been too aggressive, that she actually stopped crying and started looking around completely calm. I mean wide eyes, lips extended, look of a child interested in her environment, and, most importantly, quiet. And so I jiggled her for a few minutes and then put her in our swing and a few minutes later she was asleep.
I guess at this point I could have turned of the light and gone to sleep myself, but I was too excited to do that and so I came downstairs to put this account of acts of personal heroism “on paper” so to speak. Who knows what future might bring? Next stop – I cure cancer, or maybe, just maybe, do the dishes all on my own.
Today is day ten. It is really easy to remember how old your baby is if she was born on December 31st. She woke up a few times during the night but was comforted by the baby-steak or what many of us call breast milk. Right now she is sleeping in her bouncer and I am pretending to participate in the process of raising her by looking over at her every once in a while. I still get freaked out by the positions she contorts her neck into. The other day I could not find her face – she fell asleep with a hat on but then turned her head so that the hat was covering her face. I hope she will wake up before the neck starts to hurt.
It is amazing how many facial expressions she can go through in 1 minute of sleeping. Do babies dream? And if they dream what do they dream about? I am pretty sure there is quite a cast of characters. I wonder if she talks to the feeding booby in her dreams. “What is the special of the day?” Today we have milk, served at body temperature, in a plastic nipple shield. The milk has a hint of barbeque sauce, from last night’s pizza, and is particularly good on the right side.” “Wonderful, I think I could enjoy that for a while, but then I would like to have my diaper changed. And for the desert I would like the same thing but from the other side. Shaken, not stirred.”
Carlos Castaneda says that babies exist in more then just one awareness at the same time and so there is no telling how many people and other creatures they actually see at the same time. So that when I think she is smiling because I just kissed her tummy it could actually be a response to a fire dragon letting her play with its tail.
Later in the day we gave her a bath. It is really surprising that she does not mind being wet, shampooed, wet again, dried in a baby towel, and then, on top of that, taken pictures of. I have to say it made me pretty excited to participate in the bathing procedure – my wife and I managed to share the work pretty well and were done in just a few minutes.
10:21pm
Today I put my baby to sleep. And I don’t mean I put her in her pajamas, read her and book and kissed her good night. I mean I magically transformed a ten day old, fussy newborn, all the way from screaming bloody murder to, well, asleep. It felt like being the dude in charge. It felt great. Maybe for the first time I felt like I was actually useful. She has been fussy lately and would only fall asleep at her mom’s breast, which, if you have a drop of empathy, you would realize is very taxing. So today I saved Christmas.
Ok, let me take you through the steps, since I am sure you are all wondering how can an adequate, overgrown, good-for-nothing, professor do something so ordinary. Well, hush now and let me explain. We have been given a DVD called “The happiest baby on the block” which talks about the concept of the forth trimester – since humans have such big brains they are born before they are sufficiently developed but they have a calming reflex and you just need to learn to turn it on. Well, today I finally turned that sucker on. So the steps are described in five “S”s: Swaddle, Side, Shush, Swing, and Suck. So first I swaddled her (tightly wrapping in a blanket) – I have to say I am getting much better at it. Then I put her on her side. The magic touch was of course contributed by my wife (you did not really think I did it alone, did you?) – we have a toy that can make four types of white noise sound and the sound de jour was ocean waves. But it was not until I found that correct jiggle, which I thought could have been too aggressive, that she actually stopped crying and started looking around completely calm. I mean wide eyes, lips extended, look of a child interested in her environment, and, most importantly, quiet. And so I jiggled her for a few minutes and then put her in our swing and a few minutes later she was asleep.
I guess at this point I could have turned of the light and gone to sleep myself, but I was too excited to do that and so I came downstairs to put this account of acts of personal heroism “on paper” so to speak. Who knows what future might bring? Next stop – I cure cancer, or maybe, just maybe, do the dishes all on my own.
1/11/08
I have finally found my soul mate. Well, I am not an expert in it and maybe technically your soul mate is not the one who resembles you most in any particular trait, but soul mate is how I felt when we met the lactation consultant last night. Never before have I heard a person express so eloquently how I feel about my wife’s breasts.
Ok, some introduction is in order. In the previous installment I was boasting about how I learned to put my daughter to sleep. Well, she turned out to be a particular kind of a one trick pony – the kind of a pony that only lets you trick her once. And so about the same time I was done writing the last piece she started screaming and continued to be fussy until 4am. So we decided to go and ask for some help. We made an appointment with a lactation consultant. The main questions we had were whether we should continue using the nipple shield given to us in the hospital, and whether there is something we are doing wrong that keeps our baby unhappy. Well, Jamie (the consultant) was absolutely great! First she showered my wife in a barrage of complements about her breasts and nipples in particular. My two personal favorites were “your breasts rock” and “you have gorgeous nipples.” At one point I was so elated that I had to respond to one of those remarks by saying “I’ve been tell her that for years.” Now, you might think that all those remarks are good to hear but serve no purpose – you’d be wrong. The thing is that if your (first) baby is not having a good time you automatically assume that there is something wrong with you or that you are not doing something correctly. And hearing all those positive things definitely gives you a second wind and a stronger desire to persevere.
Then, Jamie said that she sees absolutely no reason for us to use the nipple shield – there are certain conditions when it is warranted, e.g. flat or inverted nipples, but nipples as gorgeous as my wife’s need no plastic. And so she showed us some tricks about how to hold her to the breast, and how to burp her better (it is surprising how much slapping those tiny babies can endure and even feel comfortable with), and even how to use baby’s hand position and a gage of how full her “tank” is – up means empty, down means full.
So lessons learned – if the baby is not doing great ask for help. Even if you have seen two lactation consultants already and one of them recommended the shield. Thing change, and help is available, and who knows, maybe your breasts rock after all.
1/13/08
So it looks like we are developing a relationship with my daughter. And I say “developing” because like her our relationship is a living matter that changes every day. In the beginning it consisted of me holding her and her crying. Note, it was not that she would cry and then I would hold her. No, it was her crying whenever I held her, even if she was peachy beforehand. It was a rough start, but I followed the suggestions of my support group, consisting of my wife, her parents, pediatricians, and police officers I called to settle the matter. And so I persevered.
To quote some more of Carlos Castaneda quoting Don Juan Matus, who said that there are four natural enemies to becoming the “Man of Knowledge,” and those are Fear, Clarity, Power, and Old Age. I think those are applicable to becoming a parent. It started with fear, and maybe it is smell of my fear that made my baby cry. A few days ago I had a hint of “Clarity” when I was boasting that I managed to put her to sleep. Power has yet to kick in, but we are working on it.
And so back to the relationship we are developing. Since my wife wakes up during the night to wake her I get the early morning (10 to noon) shift, after a hearty feeding, when we think there is no reason for the baby to cry. And so I bring her downstairs, put some music on (I think she prefers Townes Van Zandt to Tom Waits) and we just chill together – I am on the couch and she is on her bouncer.
I have to say that our interactions with her have changed drastically since we have consulted with Jamie, the lactation consultant. Our girl started to eat better and is less fussy, and we really feel like we understand what she is going through a little better. I am so glad we went to see Jamie. Just to think about all the other things we have considered doing, like switching to a bottle, or even formula. No need for that!
I have finally found my soul mate. Well, I am not an expert in it and maybe technically your soul mate is not the one who resembles you most in any particular trait, but soul mate is how I felt when we met the lactation consultant last night. Never before have I heard a person express so eloquently how I feel about my wife’s breasts.
Ok, some introduction is in order. In the previous installment I was boasting about how I learned to put my daughter to sleep. Well, she turned out to be a particular kind of a one trick pony – the kind of a pony that only lets you trick her once. And so about the same time I was done writing the last piece she started screaming and continued to be fussy until 4am. So we decided to go and ask for some help. We made an appointment with a lactation consultant. The main questions we had were whether we should continue using the nipple shield given to us in the hospital, and whether there is something we are doing wrong that keeps our baby unhappy. Well, Jamie (the consultant) was absolutely great! First she showered my wife in a barrage of complements about her breasts and nipples in particular. My two personal favorites were “your breasts rock” and “you have gorgeous nipples.” At one point I was so elated that I had to respond to one of those remarks by saying “I’ve been tell her that for years.” Now, you might think that all those remarks are good to hear but serve no purpose – you’d be wrong. The thing is that if your (first) baby is not having a good time you automatically assume that there is something wrong with you or that you are not doing something correctly. And hearing all those positive things definitely gives you a second wind and a stronger desire to persevere.
Then, Jamie said that she sees absolutely no reason for us to use the nipple shield – there are certain conditions when it is warranted, e.g. flat or inverted nipples, but nipples as gorgeous as my wife’s need no plastic. And so she showed us some tricks about how to hold her to the breast, and how to burp her better (it is surprising how much slapping those tiny babies can endure and even feel comfortable with), and even how to use baby’s hand position and a gage of how full her “tank” is – up means empty, down means full.
So lessons learned – if the baby is not doing great ask for help. Even if you have seen two lactation consultants already and one of them recommended the shield. Thing change, and help is available, and who knows, maybe your breasts rock after all.
1/13/08
So it looks like we are developing a relationship with my daughter. And I say “developing” because like her our relationship is a living matter that changes every day. In the beginning it consisted of me holding her and her crying. Note, it was not that she would cry and then I would hold her. No, it was her crying whenever I held her, even if she was peachy beforehand. It was a rough start, but I followed the suggestions of my support group, consisting of my wife, her parents, pediatricians, and police officers I called to settle the matter. And so I persevered.
To quote some more of Carlos Castaneda quoting Don Juan Matus, who said that there are four natural enemies to becoming the “Man of Knowledge,” and those are Fear, Clarity, Power, and Old Age. I think those are applicable to becoming a parent. It started with fear, and maybe it is smell of my fear that made my baby cry. A few days ago I had a hint of “Clarity” when I was boasting that I managed to put her to sleep. Power has yet to kick in, but we are working on it.
And so back to the relationship we are developing. Since my wife wakes up during the night to wake her I get the early morning (10 to noon) shift, after a hearty feeding, when we think there is no reason for the baby to cry. And so I bring her downstairs, put some music on (I think she prefers Townes Van Zandt to Tom Waits) and we just chill together – I am on the couch and she is on her bouncer.
I have to say that our interactions with her have changed drastically since we have consulted with Jamie, the lactation consultant. Our girl started to eat better and is less fussy, and we really feel like we understand what she is going through a little better. I am so glad we went to see Jamie. Just to think about all the other things we have considered doing, like switching to a bottle, or even formula. No need for that!
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