Saturday (1/12)

(Peanut's birth story, Part 1 of 3)

S and I woke up early on this gray January morning geared up for a long and busy day.  Over breakfast, we made a to-do list for the weekend, which mostly included things like "grocery shop to stock freezer," "buy a diaper pail" and "decorate nursery."  So much to do before baby arrives!  All of which would have to happen on Sunday.  We quickly showered and left the apartment to walk to a local church that was holding a blood drive.  It took S a little over an hour to donate.  I waited for him at the snack table and stared at the piles of animal crackers and pretzels, willing myself not to sneak anything into my pocket or my mouth.

We rushed home, scarfed down a bite to eat, then walked to our local yoga studio.  Earlier this week, I had learned they were offering a workshop about nurturing relationships using hands and touch.  I thought it might be a good exercise for S and I to attend together to help us connect and have some couple time before baby arrived, and also to prepare us to support one another in the birthing process.  I am generally pretty uncomfortable with touch and massage, so a formal workshop seemed like the perfect way to open myself up to receiving nurturing and care from S.  We spent two hours sharing a space with our neighbors, mostly young queer-identified folks, touching our partner's faces, shoulders, necks, and feet.  It was easy for me to massage S; he challenged me to receive.  At one moment, he told me he would continue touching my shoulders and chest instead of switching off and having me touch his.  My eyes filled with tears. 

"No!" I whispered sharply.  "It's my turn to massage you.  It's not fair to be so one-sided."  He pushed back gently.

"I'm happy to do it.  Really.  Let me take care of you for a few minutes longer."  My emotions caught me by surprise.  He had been rubbing his hands over my heart for several minutes, and had clearly opened up some vulnerable space inside me.  I pulled myself together, frowning, and finally agreed.

We rushed back home after the workshop, processing what we had experienced as we walked.  I was mostly focused on the fact that we only had an hour to get home, eat, and head back out to meet friends for dinner.  We had just pulled together a mini lunch when S got a phone call.  An old friend of his was in the neighborhood with her husband and young baby, and she wanted to drop off some baby clothes for us.  We welcomed her over, leaving our untouched sandwiches and soup on the kitchen table.

S's friend walked into our living room carrying their tiny brown baby in a car seat.  I felt something stir inside me.  He was so small!  At 10 weeks old, the adorable baby boy looked to me so close to how I imagined our own baby might look.  I kept staring at his little face and thinking, "ok, now I get it.  We are going to have a real, live baby, just like this one... so soon!"  The teeny tiny baby clothes she passed on to us seemed almost too small for a human baby to wear.

After S's friend left, we scarfed down our now-cold lunch and ran off to the train.  At this point, we were running late and I was pretty tired, but our friends had very generously offered to meet up with us in a neighborhood fairly close to our apartment, so we didn't have to go far.  We started with Thai food at 4pm, gabbed for hours and hours, and ended with coffee at 11pm.  We spent a good chunk of the evening talking about our hopes and dreams for life with our little one.  When we exchanged goodbye hugs in the train station, there was excitement and nervousness in the air.  We knew the next time we saw each other, our little one would be here.
 
S and I were walking home from the train station arm in arm when I suddenly began to feel pain in my lower abdomen.  "Ay, babe," I said.  "I'm having those menstrual-type cramps again.  They're really strong!"  I asked him to slow down a bit, and I clenched my teeth as we rounded the corner to our apartment building.  And just like that, the cramps disappeared.  "It's such a weird feeling," I remarked.  "I guess my body is preparing to give birth!"

We snuggled into bed together and continued to talk, still wound up from our activity-laden day.  "I feel like everything we did today was really good for us," S said.

"Yeah, it was a really good day," I agreed.  "It's going to feel good to get everything off our to-do list tomorrow, too!"

Letter to Peanut at One Month

Dearest Peanut,

Today is Valentine's Day, and today you are one month old!  Learning to be your parent has been an experience full of questions, fears and challenges, and yet, you have made it all so easy in some ways, so worthwhile.  Every day I spend time just staring at (and kissing) your beautiful face while feeling so grateful, so blessed, so amazed that you are actually here on this earth creating family with me and your papa. 

Peanut, you are an very chill little person.  You have a calm energy and presence.  Even when you're trying to communicate a need with us - you're hungry, you have belly pains, you need a diaper change, you're sleepy - you do it in a way that makes it feel possible for us to figure it out instead of making us feel panicked or overwhelmed.  Oh, you definitely know how to cry; in fact, you've got quite a set of lungs on you, and your voracious cries can go from zero to sixty in just a moment.  Especially when we change your diaper right before nursing - you clearly hate to wait! 

At one month, you are able to lift your head (you've got a surprisingly strong neck, kid - and you use it to lift your head up from our shoulders when you're fussy, or to resist binding when we try to put you in a sling), to look at and follow objects we hold near your face, to hold our gazes, to coo and make all kinds of little grunting noises.  You love to listen to music, and definitely pay attention when we play songs for you or sing to you to help you relax.  Here are some of the songs we've loved singing to you this past month:

• You Are My Sunshine
• Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
• Make You Feel My Love
• Somewhere Over the Rainbow

When you sleep, you make the sweetest and funniest faces and noises.  You have a strong internal clock and wake up to nurse every three hours on the dot, except at night.  That's when you nurse every four to five hours.  Thank you for that.  Even though it takes at least two hours of rocking, singing, shushing, bouncing, walking, and struggling to help you to fall back asleep at night, the fact that I can rest for a bit once you do finally go down is a big help.  You still spend most days sleeping, but have started to hang out with us, alert and awake, for a couple hours each day.

Sweet baby, my heart bursts with love and emotion when I carry you in my arms, when I feel your sleepy head rest on my shoulder, when you look at me with wide eyes and can clearly recognize who I am.  You've made me cry with joy on more than one occasion - and I'm not someone who typically expresses emotion easily.  You've stretched my heart in wonderful and unexpected ways.  I have never felt the kind of love, protectiveness, compassion, and patience I have felt in my relationship with you.  Thank you for a beautiful thirty days.

With love,
Your Mama

Boobs

Throughout my life, my boobs have been a source of stress and self-consciousness for me because they've felt so disproportionally large on my small body.  When I got pregnant, they got even larger, and once my milk came in they grew so huge that even the enormous nursing bras I got just a few weeks before giving birth (read: I didn't know that bra sizes existed in those letters of the alphabet) are too small.  Needless to say, having discomfort and pain during these past few weeks has made me resent my boobs even more than I did when I was struggling to find t-shirts that fit or having back pain before pregnancy.  I'm awaiting the day when I'm done breastfeeding any kids S and I have so I can get breast-reduction surgery and perhaps have a more comfortable relationship with my chest.

For now, I'm simply working on finding a way to be at peace with my boobs for the purpose of nourishing Peanut.  I met with the lactation consultant for a few hours yesterday. It was a good meeting, one that made me feel more hopeful and optimistic about a reduction of my pain.  The current diagnosis is that I have a circulatory issue - a constricting of my blood vessels that causes vasospasms.  Add to that a heavy let-down which causes P to clamp down when she's nursing, and there's the formula for a painful breastfeeding experience. Treatment is basically keeping my body and nipples as warm as possible, including using a heating pad for 10-15 minutes after each nursing session to help my blood vessels dilate. I should also feed P while laying back or laying down to help slow down the milk flow and hopefully reduce clamping.

So I spent all day today focused on the wellness of my boobs. Between nursing sessions I ran back and forth to the microwave, obsessively heating up pads to tuck into my bra to keep my nipples warm.  If I let P go more than three hours between nursing sessions, my boobs became painfully engorged, so I was obsessing about keeping her on the clock, too.  Sometimes nursing was still excruciatingly painful, sometimes it was less so.  Sometimes I started crying before P even latched on in anticipation of the pain.  I frequently thought about pumping and bottle-feeding as an escape from the drama.  By the end of the day, I was physically and emotionally drained, and angrier at my boobs than ever. 

I'm trying to trust that my experience will get better.  When it's good, I truly enjoy the connection I feel with Peanut while nursing, and I'm definitely still committed to breastfeeding her.  I'm just exhausted and frustrated.  This shouldn't be so hard.

Life at Three Weeks Old

Things I am loving about life with Peanut, who is now three weeks old:

• Breastfeeding.  I absolutely love the ritual and opportunity to be close to Peanut, to know that my body is producing the milk that nourishes her and helps her grow bigger and stronger every day.  I love holding her in my arms, looking at her eyes, stroking her head, feeling her little body against my body, watching her fall asleep using my breast or my arm as a pillow.  The look of fullness and contentment on her face as her eyes grow heavy with sleep after nursing fills my heart up.

• Cuddling.  Peanut spends more hours awake at three weeks old than she did during the first two.  Sometimes she's content to just lie back in her crib, look around, and make little cooing noises.  Other times, she wants to be held.  When I walk her around, carry her in a sling, cuddle her, talk to her, and sing to her, she now looks at my face and holds my gaze for minutes at a time.  It's a totally blissful and emotional experience to connect and communicate with her in a way that I couldn't even a week ago.  When she falls asleep on my chest I don't want to put her down.

Things I find challenging:

• Breastfeeding.  While things started out okay, during the past week breastfeeding has become an excruciatingly painful activity.  I'm nursing Peanut every 2-3 hours and I'm lucky if I don't cry every time she latches on.  My nipples are so sore that they throb between feedings.  I can't comfortably carry Peanut around, take a shower without keeping my back to the water, and I'm basically dreading having to feed her.  I finally decided to suck it up and find a lactation consultant because I just can't manage the pain any longer, and from what I've read, nursing shouldn't feel so bad.  I hope the consultant will help me figure out how to resolve whatever issues are going on.  

• Being home.  All the time.  It's winter, there's a flu epidemic, Peanut is under a month old, her immune system is weak, I should be resting for forty days postpartum... lots of reasons to stay cooped up indoors.  And still, it's making me frustrated and grumpy to be stuck in my own dark cave-like apartment day in and day out.  Even with occasional walks to the store and visitors coming by, being stuck indoors and bound to an exhausting infant care routine has taken a toll on my emotional wellness.  S and I talked about it and decided I should go spend a week at my parents' place soon so I get a change of scene and some company/support.     

Overall, things are going really well.  Peanut is a (knock on wood) pretty chill baby so far, so even in her fussiest moments, S and I have been managing to figure out how to meet her needs without too much of a struggle.  Having S's support when he comes home from work and on the weekends has been a huge blessing; he's a devoted, amazing parent and partner, and truly makes the experience of caring for Peanut more enjoyable and manageable for me.  Most days I simply stare at her and think, "I can't believe I'm a parent.  I can't believe this is my kid.  I can't believe I'm responsible for the care and well-being of this beautiful little person!"  I'm enjoying the opportunity to nurture and spend time with her and to witness how she is growing and developing each day.