Letter to Peanut at 3 Months

Dear Peanut,

Today marks the end of your "fourth trimester," those precious first few months as you adjust to life outside the womb.  You're no longer a tiny, sleepy newborn.  When I look at you, I see a rapidly growing, bright, alert kid, intent on taking in and observing the world. 

During your waking hours, you keep your eyes open wide and are very focused on looking at everything within view; the frames on the walls, the toys in your crib, the cats on the couch, the stores and people in the neighborhood.  You crane your head back as far as you can to see what's above and behind you.  Your curiosity thrills and fascinates me.  You are holding your head up well (though tummy time still makes you grumpy), babbling and cooing, and kicking your legs while you're on your back.  You can lift your legs up to a 90 degree angle - and you do, often.

You are now - tah dah! - mostly sleeping through the night, typically from 11:30pm - 7:00am.  What a difference a big chunk of sleep makes for us all!  Papa and I feel more well-rested, and you, too, seem to wake up smiling wider and feeling calmer than before.  We're no longer swaddling you since you seem to prefer your arms wild and flailing freely :)  You're also crying less and smiling more these days.  Papa and I spend many hours trying to make you laugh.  And you're allllmost there.  You can anticipate certain games and start smiling wide before we even get to the "punchline" (high squealing voice, tickling, kisses).  I'm so excited to hear your first real giggle.  You're showing signs of recognizing me and Papa more.  Sometimes when other people hold you, you look out to us both.  Sometimes your lower lip sticks out, and sometimes you cry until we are holding you again.  Papa says it's a good sign you are securely attached.  It makes me feel good to know you feel comfort and safety with us.   


This past month, we spent two weeks at Nani and Nana's house again.  They loved having such a big chunk of time with you.  During my birthday weekend, they took you out so Papa and I could go on a date.  I cried when you left - it was the longest time we had been apart since you were born - six hours.  But you were fine, and Papa and I enjoyed dinner and a movie together (though we talked about you the whole time).  We also took you to my office this month and you had a chance to meet my boss and colleagues, all of whom were so eager to see you.  You and I also spent our first day in the park together last week when it was a blissful eighty degrees.  You seemed to enjoy the fresh air and spent long hours observing the trees and grass.   

Peanut, next week I will be going back to work full time.  Papa will be starting his parental leave and spending the next three months with you.  I am looking forward to being back at the office again; I enjoy my work and colleagues, and miss that part of my life.  I'm looking forward to the routine and structure of my work days.  At the same time, I am feeling sadness, guilt, anxiety, and grief about leaving you.  We may never have this kind of uninterrupted time together again.  I am worried and anxious about breastfeeding you less often.  I will miss cuddling you, talking with you, and playing with you throughout the day.  I am sad about missing the little things, and scared about missing the big things.  I wonder how the changes will affect you, and I feel guilty about having to put you through such a big transition at such a young age. 

I know Papa is super excited to get to know you better and to enjoy taking you out during the sunny, warm spring and summer days.  It will be a big change for us all, and we will all learn new skills and develop new tools in the process.  In the meantime, I'm looking forward to one more sweet week together.

Love,
Your Mama

Windows of Opportunity

While I was pregnant, S read some article somewhere about how during the first few unpredictable months of life with a newborn, it's important to take advantage of "windows of opportunity" - those few minutes or hours here or there throughout the day when you can do something besides care for your infant.  I didn't realize how much I'd grow to anticipate these windows - or how I'd actually be using them.

I remember laughing with friends during my pregnancy about how new parents complained about not being able to take a shower.  "How was that possible?" we joked.  "Can't you shower while your baby is napping?"

Ha.  Now I know better.  Napping windows with Peanut can be as short as three minutes (very often) or as long as three hours (very rarely), but there's no way to anticipate the duration when they begin.  As soon as they do, though, I'm usually off like a lightning bolt, rushing to do one of the following mundane activities:

• Brush my teeth 
• Use the bathroom
• Take a 2 minute long shower
• Eat
• Wash a dish or two
• Open the mail and think, "oh, I should pay those bills."
• Pay those bills
• Put away the clothes that have been sitting in the laundry bag for over a week
• Catch up on Facebook emails
• Pump my still annoyingly finicky breasts

More often than not, my activity of choice is disrupted by Peanut starting to shift around in her crib, at which point I'll rush back, stick the pacifier in the mouth, and pray it will soothe her back to sleep.  More often than not, it doesn't, and sensing my presence, she'll open her eyes wide and start wailing.  And more often than not, I'll choose to cuddle her back to sleep.  Then I'll just sit with her, she, cozy and content in my arms, me, still in my pajamas, hungry, holding my bladder, and loving every minute of it.

Letter to Peanut at 2 Months

Dearest Peanut,

It is hard to believe you are already two months old!  At your two month appointment with your doctor, we learned that you weigh 10 pounds and measure 22 inches long.  That's a net gain of four pounds and four inches since you were born!  Good job growing.  Your Papa and I are always remarking about how much "sturdier" you feel - more like a kid, a less like a fragile, noodley little newborn.  You're holding your head up pretty well; in fact, every time I burp you over my shoulder, Papa and I laugh about how you make an "ET neck" - you stretch and make your neck tall and long, and open your eyes really wide.  You are totally adorable. 

Here's a summary of this past month:

• Smiling.  Oh, your smiles.  They are still less frequent than I'd hope they'd be (you, like your mother, are a great frowner.)  But when you share them with us, our hearts melt.  You smile when we talk to you in a high pitched voice, when we tickle your chin, and when you're playing with your toys.  Your first really intentional smile was on Sunday, March 3.  Your uncle did a great job of capturing it on video!
• Playing.  One of your favorite toys right now is a blue stuffed elephant holding a rattle and plastic rings.  You have learned to bat at it when it's hanging by your side and it makes you smile, make happy, loud babbling sounds, and kick your legs with gusto.  You've learned how to make the elephant move with your hands and will play with it for up to 30 minutes at a time.  You also love watching your mobile.  It's such a joy to see you so happy.
• Sleeping.  At seven weeks, we decided the chaos of nighttime feeding and waking and rocking were just not working.  So we started you on a bedtime routine.  We start by feeding you between 7:00 and 8:00pm, then massage you with almond oil, give you a warm bath, dress you, read you a bedtime story, and put you to bed by 9:00pm.  The first three nights, you only woke once at around 3:00am and slept for 5-6 hours at a time.  It was amazing.  And then things kind of fell apart.  You just love being held, bounced and cuddled, little one, so even when you only woke once or twice, it took several hours to get to you actually go to - and stay - asleep.  We're still working on figuring out what helps you sleep quickly and for longer periods of time.   
• Feeding.  At five weeks, we began bottle-feeding you a bit.  It kind of broke my heart at first to see you sucking on a rubber nipple.  I felt like I was betraying you.  You gagged and it seemed like the milk was flowing way too fast.  But you quickly learned how to manage the flow and now go back and forth between the breast and the bottle pretty seamlessly. 
• Soothing.  Same thing with the pacifier.  I cried the first time I introduced the paci.  Until that point, you hadn't had anything in your mouth but my breasts and your own hands.  But it was 4:00am, and I was desperate.  You were crying and unable to sleep, I was totally exhausted after two hours of trying to help you close your eyes.  It didn't help much that night.  Now, it's a wonderful tool.  It helps calm you in stressful moments and on some nights, helps you fall asleep.  It thankfully has not affected the way you breastfeed at all.
• Traveling.  You took your first trip to the city on the train, Peanut, and since then you and I have had much more mobility.  We've gone to a coffee shop, to my postpartum doctor appointment, and have been walking around the neighborhood pretty often.  You're a great traveler - meaning you usually sleep the whole time, whether in the car seat, stroller or carrier!  We spent two weeks at Nana and Nani's house, which was great.  It helped me heal and get emotionally and physically stronger.  As a result, I felt better equipped to take care of you.  We also took a bunch of trains to go meet some of Papa's family - your Tio and oldest cousin - who were in the area for a weekend.  They were so thrilled to finally meet you.

At your two month check-up, you received five different vaccinations.  You handled them like a champ, but it was so hard for me to see you in pain, even for a few seconds.  I was crying by your side.  Afterwards, you were understandably cranky and tired all day long, so we cuddled a lot.  It helped make us both feel calmer and more connected.  I love love love feeling you sleep on my shoulder and chest.  If I could, I would hold you all the time like I did on that day.

I love you immensely, my dear Peanut.  I'm looking forward to spending another month together.

Love,
Your Mama

Angels

Today is the four year anniversary of my beloved grandmother's death. I thought about her today, often. I called my mother to see how she was doing. I texted my uncle, aunt and cousins to let me know I was thinking of them on my grandmother's "angel anniversary," (a term coined by my uncle). My aunt texted me back:

"Thinking of you, too. Just got back from jk [the prayer hall]. Prayed for her and took some sufro [a food offering] for her. The show must go on...with new angels like Peanut coming in. Love ya loads."

My heart was in my throat. Even now, a couple years after my extended family has come around and (sort of) welcomed S into their lives, it surprises me to hear such warmth and validation from people who at one time said such ugly and queerphobic/transphobic words to me. It helps to heal my heart just a little bit. It makes me hope that maybe my grandmother might be giving little Peanut her love and blessings, too.

Train ride

It was a big day for me and Peanut.  We had an experience that I've dreading since even before I was pregnant, so the fact that it all went so smoothly makes me feel like a superhero urban parent with a champion kid.

Today, we rode the train together into the city and back.  AND we took the bus.  Two modes of city transportation in one day with a seven week old.  In the icy wind and snow.

For years I've been so scared of the idea of navigating public transportation with a kid.  In my head, it would be a horrific experience trying to manage a screaming infant, avoid being pushed around by around a bunch of rude, oblivious, and uncaring city folk, and carry a bulky stroller up and down the train stairs on my own.  Instead, Peanut slept soundly.  Both ways.  People gave me seats on the train and smiled at Peanut.  And I took her out in a baby carrier, so I avoided the stroller trauma.  All in all, it was a positive, empowering experience.

Granted, the circumstances were ideal.  Peanut's doctor appointment was in the middle of the day, so we didn't have to travel during rush hour.  And she's still little enough for me to wear her comfortably.  Still, the fact that I managed to time her feedings around our travel times, I was calm and patient with myself throughout our travels, and even managed to stop by a bodega to grab a little egg and cheese on a bagel lunch for myself en route made me feel like a rockstar.  Things went so well I almost considered going shopping for a bit after the appointment, but decided not to push my luck.

I didn't manage to get comfortable enough to breastfeed her in public (I brought along a pumped bottle of milk and fed her in the doctor's office before heading back home).  And I couldn't figure out how to go to the bathroom since I had no place to put her.  We'll address those challenges another time.  For now, the opportunity to ride the train and visit the city for the first time since Peanut was born was gratifying enough.  It made me feel more like myself than I have in a long time.

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