Yesterday I received a sample pack of infant formula in the mail. What I want to know is: Why? Why am I on any sort of mailing list that would trigger Enfamil to think that I need formula?
1) There are no babies in my house. My youngest is 27 months old, and happily drinks cow's milk. Preferably with chocolate.
2) I am certainly not pregnant with another. Though perhaps some computer model predicted that I would be by now? I guess I was when Charlotte was this age.
3) I never used formula for either of my children. I breastfed. I think Charlotte got about 2 ounces of formula once, in the NICU where she spent about 24 hours for jaundice. I believe the nurse who gave it to her also got a scolding from the lactation consultant for that incident.
Now, there are plenty of people who do use formula, for a large variety of reasons, and that's what works for them. This post isn't a dig at parents who use formula. I am just not currently aware of anyone in my immediate circle of acquantance who is formula feeding an infant.
So, back to sample pack that arrived at my house. It was kind of Enfamil to provide food to the local foodbank. But really, there are more efficient ways of donating than to mail it to me, and have me hand-carry it into work to one of the donation bins.
Showing posts with label Breastfeeding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breastfeeding. Show all posts
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
"I want to snuggle you"
I love my daughter. Truly, honestly, and without my usual sarcasm. She is so sweet. In fact, her most annoying personality traits lately center around her desire to give and receive affection.
Yesterday, I wore a pair of shoes that I bought over ten years ago from Kmart, on clearance, for less than $5. Black velour ballet flats. "I like your shoes Mommy," she said. "The bows are pretty." I can't help but smile.
When she is not tormenting her brother by playing with toys he shouldn't have, right in front of him, she is very sweet. She smiles at him, laughs with him, tickles and raspberries him. Even her rough play is designed to make him laugh. One of these days I will stop worrying about their wrestling. But she also nuzzles him, and they exchange the cutest kisses every night before bed. Trystan won't go to bed without his goodnight kisses.
She has been having a rougher time adjusting to Pre-K than I had hoped. Academically, she's just fine. She writes her name (all 9 letters, mixed case), quite legibly. She constantly astounds me with the knowledge she has absorbed, like those water crystals that I use in the garden, that swell and swell the more you pour into them.
Her biggest problem is affection. She was breastfed, and weaned herself around 19 months old. That decision I have never regretted--my only disappointment was that her brother gave up his night-night milk at a mere 14 months. Even after then, she has continued to insist on skin-to-skin contact in order to fall asleep. When I was pregnant, it was exceedingly sweet that she wanted to snuggle with my bare belly. She has never given up that request, though. She likes to rub bare skin with her hands, but will rub and paw until your arms are sore and over-stimulated.
At school, she is having trouble remembering to keep her hands to herself. She has always been tactile, and likes to snuggle with her teachers like she does at home with us. And up until this month, that has been indulged. Then, all of a sudden, the same teachers who have picked her up and snuggled her for over 3 years are telling her to sit still, by herself, and not to play with her friends' arms or hair. It's rough. Poor kid. She has had a lot of crying fits before school lately, and is worried because she is frequently getting in trouble.
I'm not sure that there's much for us to do at home, besides giving her appropriate affection, and reinforcing the rules (and explaining to our little sponge just why she isn't allowed to stroke someone's arm). I almost wish she had adopted a single lovey--a blanket or doll or something. But all she has is her finger--her index finger, not even the thumb--and we're actively trying to break her of that bad habit as well.
It's sad, really. She's not in trouble for deliberately hurting anyone or being violent or anything, and she is paying attention to what she's learning. And I don't think that there was any way to avoid this transition period. If it wasn't now, it would be next year, or the next. She does have to learn. And in the mean time, I'm not sure whether to give her more snuggles or less at home, to help ease the lack at school. I'm thinking more, myself...
Yesterday, I wore a pair of shoes that I bought over ten years ago from Kmart, on clearance, for less than $5. Black velour ballet flats. "I like your shoes Mommy," she said. "The bows are pretty." I can't help but smile.
When she is not tormenting her brother by playing with toys he shouldn't have, right in front of him, she is very sweet. She smiles at him, laughs with him, tickles and raspberries him. Even her rough play is designed to make him laugh. One of these days I will stop worrying about their wrestling. But she also nuzzles him, and they exchange the cutest kisses every night before bed. Trystan won't go to bed without his goodnight kisses.
She has been having a rougher time adjusting to Pre-K than I had hoped. Academically, she's just fine. She writes her name (all 9 letters, mixed case), quite legibly. She constantly astounds me with the knowledge she has absorbed, like those water crystals that I use in the garden, that swell and swell the more you pour into them.
Her biggest problem is affection. She was breastfed, and weaned herself around 19 months old. That decision I have never regretted--my only disappointment was that her brother gave up his night-night milk at a mere 14 months. Even after then, she has continued to insist on skin-to-skin contact in order to fall asleep. When I was pregnant, it was exceedingly sweet that she wanted to snuggle with my bare belly. She has never given up that request, though. She likes to rub bare skin with her hands, but will rub and paw until your arms are sore and over-stimulated.
At school, she is having trouble remembering to keep her hands to herself. She has always been tactile, and likes to snuggle with her teachers like she does at home with us. And up until this month, that has been indulged. Then, all of a sudden, the same teachers who have picked her up and snuggled her for over 3 years are telling her to sit still, by herself, and not to play with her friends' arms or hair. It's rough. Poor kid. She has had a lot of crying fits before school lately, and is worried because she is frequently getting in trouble.
I'm not sure that there's much for us to do at home, besides giving her appropriate affection, and reinforcing the rules (and explaining to our little sponge just why she isn't allowed to stroke someone's arm). I almost wish she had adopted a single lovey--a blanket or doll or something. But all she has is her finger--her index finger, not even the thumb--and we're actively trying to break her of that bad habit as well.
It's sad, really. She's not in trouble for deliberately hurting anyone or being violent or anything, and she is paying attention to what she's learning. And I don't think that there was any way to avoid this transition period. If it wasn't now, it would be next year, or the next. She does have to learn. And in the mean time, I'm not sure whether to give her more snuggles or less at home, to help ease the lack at school. I'm thinking more, myself...
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Diagnosis: Healthy
My employer offers free health screenings every year. It's probably cheaper for them to have several thousand employees spend 15 minutes in the cafeteria than to send them each to the doctor and have a round of bloodwork ordered. Assuming folks are even bothered to go.
Both years that I've taken advantage of the program, my numbers have all been good. Here's this years:
Total Cholesterol 160 ("Desirable" is <200)
HDL Cholesterol 41 ("Low" is < 40, "Optimal" is > 60..I was at the same level last year too)
LDL Cholestoerol 99 ("Optimal" < 100)
Triglycerides 101 ("Desirable" < 150)
Glucose 94 ("Normal (Non-Fasting)" < 140)
Blood Pressure 94/57 ("Normal" < 120/80)
BMI 24.0 ("Normal" = 18.5-24.9)
Body Fat 29.8% ("Healthy" for my age is 21-33%)
Yes my blood pressure is low. And no, I don't get dizzy (they asked!). The only time I came close to that "normal" range was about 8 months pregnant. I salt my food, too (though I don't like a lot of packaged or canned stuff). My mom began having trouble with higher blood pressure after age 40. I'm keeping these numbers for as long as I can, thankyouverymuch.
It is interesting that my BMI and Body Fat % have been pretty much the same for over ten years (not counting a few select months post-partum). I used to stress about the body fat % thing--I used to be on the borderline between "healthy" and "overweight". My age is now my excuse. Hooray for thirtysomethings!
My cholesterol levels were about the same last year. The only near "ding" on my record is really that hdl level--it's lower than optimal. Last year I chalked it up to breastfeeding, and having the fat literally sucked right out of me. This year, well, I guess it's just diet & exercise. But as the "counselor" explained, the ratio of my hdl to my total cholesterol is good. I'm just low overall.
I do need to exercise more, but I already eat plenty of nuts & use olive oil almost exclusively when cooking (& canola for baking). I tried a fish oil supplement once--it gives me heartburn. We don't eat a lot of fish in our house, which might also boost that number. I am not particularly comfortable cooking a lot of fish dishes (lack of experience manly), and honestly, the midwest is not a great place to buy it.
As part of the health screenings, they will feed our numbers into a computer system for a health survey. They will ask us additional questions about our diet and lifestyle, which will doubtless be used for research of some sort. I remember last year having to answer the question "Do you eat a low-fat diet". My answer was marked "medium-fat" diet, which is a more accurate description. I like meat and butter, and am never skimpy with the olive oil. And it's not hurting me so far. But despite low overall cholesterol numbers, the system still chided me for not eating a "low-fat" diet. Hmmph.
Both years that I've taken advantage of the program, my numbers have all been good. Here's this years:
Total Cholesterol 160 ("Desirable" is <200)
HDL Cholesterol 41 ("Low" is < 40, "Optimal" is > 60..I was at the same level last year too)
LDL Cholestoerol 99 ("Optimal" < 100)
Triglycerides 101 ("Desirable" < 150)
Glucose 94 ("Normal (Non-Fasting)" < 140)
Blood Pressure 94/57 ("Normal" < 120/80)
BMI 24.0 ("Normal" = 18.5-24.9)
Body Fat 29.8% ("Healthy" for my age is 21-33%)
Yes my blood pressure is low. And no, I don't get dizzy (they asked!). The only time I came close to that "normal" range was about 8 months pregnant. I salt my food, too (though I don't like a lot of packaged or canned stuff). My mom began having trouble with higher blood pressure after age 40. I'm keeping these numbers for as long as I can, thankyouverymuch.
It is interesting that my BMI and Body Fat % have been pretty much the same for over ten years (not counting a few select months post-partum). I used to stress about the body fat % thing--I used to be on the borderline between "healthy" and "overweight". My age is now my excuse. Hooray for thirtysomethings!
My cholesterol levels were about the same last year. The only near "ding" on my record is really that hdl level--it's lower than optimal. Last year I chalked it up to breastfeeding, and having the fat literally sucked right out of me. This year, well, I guess it's just diet & exercise. But as the "counselor" explained, the ratio of my hdl to my total cholesterol is good. I'm just low overall.
I do need to exercise more, but I already eat plenty of nuts & use olive oil almost exclusively when cooking (& canola for baking). I tried a fish oil supplement once--it gives me heartburn. We don't eat a lot of fish in our house, which might also boost that number. I am not particularly comfortable cooking a lot of fish dishes (lack of experience manly), and honestly, the midwest is not a great place to buy it.
As part of the health screenings, they will feed our numbers into a computer system for a health survey. They will ask us additional questions about our diet and lifestyle, which will doubtless be used for research of some sort. I remember last year having to answer the question "Do you eat a low-fat diet". My answer was marked "medium-fat" diet, which is a more accurate description. I like meat and butter, and am never skimpy with the olive oil. And it's not hurting me so far. But despite low overall cholesterol numbers, the system still chided me for not eating a "low-fat" diet. Hmmph.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Rebirth and Salvation
Yesterday is the one-year anniversary of the worst day of my life. Yesterday was the day after Trystan's birthday, and was the day that his imperforate anus was discovered, and he was transported away from me to the NICU at Childrens' hospital. I remember asking a nurse about why Trystan hadn't yet passed a meconium, and she was the one who discovered that there was no opening where there ought to be (it wasn't that obvious at first). Within minutes, one of the residents had taken him from my room down to the nursery, and I didn't see him again for probably an hour. I remember being wheeled in a chair, myself only 24 hours out of surgery, barely able to sit myself up, down to the nursery where the transport team was waiting already. Trystan had an IV, and a pacifier, and he wanted me to nurse him. And I couldn't. I probably cried the entire time I held him before he was driven away. I wouldn't see or hold him again for over 24 hours, after his first surgery.
My mom, a 20+ year NICU nurse who had done patient transports herself, and my husband went with Trystan, leaving me with my baby sister (now 11, not so much a baby!) at Missouri Baptist. It was my mom's birthday. My mother-in-law brought Charlotte later that afternoon. I don't know what those girls really thought and felt, keeping company with me and my postpartum hormone avalanche, empty womb and arms. I had to explain to my 2.5 year old daughter when she immediately asked, "Where baby brother?". They were wonderful and I don't know that they will ever really understand just how helpful it was to have their company, their smiles and hugs, and even the (now funny) point where Charlotte pulled the emergency cord in the bathroom, bringining a dozen nurses running to my room.
After a while, my in-laws then took both girls back to my house, leaving me with a book, the tv, and a breastpump for company overnight. And they were all very poor company. I took some small comfort in the familiarity with the breastpump, having spent many hours with one pumping for Charlotte. But even knowing the ropes, and having the pressure of the incoming milk supply eased, I could not help but feel so completely horrified about how all of the milk my little baby had so enthusiastially eaten since birth could actually be killing him even as I sat and made him more.
I think I cried more than I slept that night, counting the hours until I was discharged, and until my inlaws arrived to drive me accross town for Trystan's surgery. I don't think I was really ok again until I held Trystan after his surgery.
Yesterday was Trystan's first Easter Mass but not his first Easter. When I joined the Catholic Church some 7 years ago now, I attended every holy week service--from the foot washing on Holy Thursday, the silent, hungry desolation of Good Friday, to the cleansing baptisms of Easter Vigil and the jubilation of Easter Sunday. I don't remember last year's service at all, I only remember leaving the church and driving across Forest Park to pick up my baby and bring him home. I don't think my faith in the resurrection had ever been stronger than it was sitting at home that night, munching jelly beans with Charlotte and settling Trystan to sleep in the cradle next to our bed.
My mom, a 20+ year NICU nurse who had done patient transports herself, and my husband went with Trystan, leaving me with my baby sister (now 11, not so much a baby!) at Missouri Baptist. It was my mom's birthday. My mother-in-law brought Charlotte later that afternoon. I don't know what those girls really thought and felt, keeping company with me and my postpartum hormone avalanche, empty womb and arms. I had to explain to my 2.5 year old daughter when she immediately asked, "Where baby brother?". They were wonderful and I don't know that they will ever really understand just how helpful it was to have their company, their smiles and hugs, and even the (now funny) point where Charlotte pulled the emergency cord in the bathroom, bringining a dozen nurses running to my room.
After a while, my in-laws then took both girls back to my house, leaving me with a book, the tv, and a breastpump for company overnight. And they were all very poor company. I took some small comfort in the familiarity with the breastpump, having spent many hours with one pumping for Charlotte. But even knowing the ropes, and having the pressure of the incoming milk supply eased, I could not help but feel so completely horrified about how all of the milk my little baby had so enthusiastially eaten since birth could actually be killing him even as I sat and made him more.
I think I cried more than I slept that night, counting the hours until I was discharged, and until my inlaws arrived to drive me accross town for Trystan's surgery. I don't think I was really ok again until I held Trystan after his surgery.
Yesterday was Trystan's first Easter Mass but not his first Easter. When I joined the Catholic Church some 7 years ago now, I attended every holy week service--from the foot washing on Holy Thursday, the silent, hungry desolation of Good Friday, to the cleansing baptisms of Easter Vigil and the jubilation of Easter Sunday. I don't remember last year's service at all, I only remember leaving the church and driving across Forest Park to pick up my baby and bring him home. I don't think my faith in the resurrection had ever been stronger than it was sitting at home that night, munching jelly beans with Charlotte and settling Trystan to sleep in the cradle next to our bed.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Twice Shy
While Trystan was still in the NICU after he was born, I had to pump to establish/maintain my milk supply for when he could eventually begin breastfeeding again. My milk came in at an astonishing rate, probably because it had been less than a year since Charlotte was weaned. She nursed until she was around 19 months old, and I really enjoyed that time with her. With Trystan, I was worried that he would have trouble breastfeeding, or would end up preferring the bottle after sampling the preemie nursers that practically pour the milk into the babies mouths. I decided at the time that if I had to, I could just pump and feed him my milk in a bottle, as clearly my body was responding fine to the pump, and because the thought of drinking processed powdered milk gives me the icks. Happlily, my little guy came right back to the breast and has stayed there after we came home. I have pumped while at work and for other occaisional separations, but I have always breastfed Trystan while we're together.
Always until about the past week. Trystan is approaching a year old, and is eating table food (nearly as much as his sister at some meals), and probably does not need as much milk as he did a couple of months ago. However, the little guy has decided to treat me like he does his pacifiers--and gnaw on me occaisionally. Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch. Trystan has two bottom teeth already, and I think he's working on a top one as well. His sister didn't cut her first tooth until nearly 14 months, and though she went through a "biting" phase at about this same age, it was more annoying than painful. And she would only do it when she was done nursing, while Trystan is doing it instead of nursing.
Yesterday, he was home on a pseudo-sick day (had run a fever at daycare the day before, but was symptom free all day), and he only actually nursed once, at about 4am. He takes a laxative every day that has to be mixed in fluid, so he generally takes it in one of his daycare bottles (he still doesn't like juice, crazy kid), and so I gave him a bottle in the morning for that. After his afternoon nap (when he woke up with a dry diaper, and immediately tried to bite me when I offered milk), I gave him another. My husband fed him a third at bedtime, though he did nurse a tiny amount (more for comfort, as he hadn't latched right to actually drink much) before he fell asleep. I managed to pump twice in the evening, but my regular pump is at work.
I wasn't intending to wean him by his first birthday. I wasn't intending to switch him to bottles. But the kid has got to have fluids, both for normal health and because his laxative keeps him from absorbing all of it (more fluid = squishier poop, you know). Darn it, I like breastfeeding him--it's cozy and exceedingly convenient. I will probably keep offering the milk to see if he gets over this phase soon, though I get nervous every time I do now, for fear that he'll actually break the skin one of these times. But I'm afraid that I will be spending the next month feeding plastic bottles two or three times a day and counting down the days till I can hang up the horns.
Always until about the past week. Trystan is approaching a year old, and is eating table food (nearly as much as his sister at some meals), and probably does not need as much milk as he did a couple of months ago. However, the little guy has decided to treat me like he does his pacifiers--and gnaw on me occaisionally. Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch. Trystan has two bottom teeth already, and I think he's working on a top one as well. His sister didn't cut her first tooth until nearly 14 months, and though she went through a "biting" phase at about this same age, it was more annoying than painful. And she would only do it when she was done nursing, while Trystan is doing it instead of nursing.
Yesterday, he was home on a pseudo-sick day (had run a fever at daycare the day before, but was symptom free all day), and he only actually nursed once, at about 4am. He takes a laxative every day that has to be mixed in fluid, so he generally takes it in one of his daycare bottles (he still doesn't like juice, crazy kid), and so I gave him a bottle in the morning for that. After his afternoon nap (when he woke up with a dry diaper, and immediately tried to bite me when I offered milk), I gave him another. My husband fed him a third at bedtime, though he did nurse a tiny amount (more for comfort, as he hadn't latched right to actually drink much) before he fell asleep. I managed to pump twice in the evening, but my regular pump is at work.
I wasn't intending to wean him by his first birthday. I wasn't intending to switch him to bottles. But the kid has got to have fluids, both for normal health and because his laxative keeps him from absorbing all of it (more fluid = squishier poop, you know). Darn it, I like breastfeeding him--it's cozy and exceedingly convenient. I will probably keep offering the milk to see if he gets over this phase soon, though I get nervous every time I do now, for fear that he'll actually break the skin one of these times. But I'm afraid that I will be spending the next month feeding plastic bottles two or three times a day and counting down the days till I can hang up the horns.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Reading List update
My first reading list follow-up.
The book I couldn't remember was Captive of my Desires by Johanna Lindsay. It was enjoyable, which sort of surprised me. I read a lot of her books back around high school, and while some were good, I think she was spitting some out too fast and they got a little formulaic, and a lot predictable. This one wasn't bad--it revisited some of the characters from some of her previous books, a set that I actually remembered when I started reading this one. Besides, it was free :) My mom had a large box full of books that she was done with and I grabbed a handful to bring home after Christmas. I would have taken all of them, but we were stuffed to the ceiling already with luggage and Christmas gifts.
I also finished Good in Bed. It was funny, like Jennifer Weiner's other books. Her characters usually fall into some predictable patterns (I'm guessing an autobiographical influence here), and this one wasn't much different. But, it was actually a chick-lit-styled murder mystery, and was definitely a fun read.
I'm now on The Kite Runner. I know there's a movie of it coming out, but my chances of seeing that are about nill until it hits cable. Alas. My hubby's not much into movies (he will agree to some of hte bigger ones, typically with enough action or sci fi/fantasy, or at least enough badgering from me), and I doubt it's appropriate for Charlotte. I do hear there's a new Veggie Tales movie opening today, and I have a sneaking suspicion that my husband might actually agree to accompany me and the kids that one.
My list of books to be read (in order of their piles on my bookshelf...roughly based on book dimensions):
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susana Clarke
Eldest (sequel to Eragon and who's author I don't remember and can't see from here)
Wizards' Daughter by Catherine Coulter (it's a romance, not a sci fi, in case you were curious)
Blood Brothers by Nora Roberts
A Salty Piece of Land by Jimmy Buffett,
After the Fire by Belva Plain
Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb (see, Scott, I haven't forgotton!)
El Reino del Dragon De Oro and El Bosque de Los Pigmeos by Isabel Allende (must finish Ciudad de las Bestias first...see my previous post)
The Children of Hurin JRR Tolkein. I'm 1/3 of the way through. It will end up on the top of the stack again at some point and I'll just finish it.
The Virgin Blue by Tracy Chevalier
4 more Nora Roberts paperbacks that I can't read from here (from Mom's stash)
Everlating by Kathleen Woodiwiss
Another random romance paperback whose spine I can't read, but I know I bought for a quarter at the library used book table recently.
That ought to last me at least a couple of days, right? :) Actually, the taller, thinner paperbacks will probably get read the fastest (not the fat historical romances, but the fancier looking ones) because they fit in my pump bag and I will read them in the mother's room at work. That's about the only part of having to pump breastmilk that I will miss after Trystan can have regular milk at daycare--the reading breaks!
4/25/08: Ok, so this is a massivley belated update, which no one will ever read. But I have a correction: It was Goodnight Nobody, not Good in Bed. Same author, different book. Good in Bed was definitely not a murder mystery (though I enjoyed it when I read it several years ago)! Back to my regularly scheduled rambling
The book I couldn't remember was Captive of my Desires by Johanna Lindsay. It was enjoyable, which sort of surprised me. I read a lot of her books back around high school, and while some were good, I think she was spitting some out too fast and they got a little formulaic, and a lot predictable. This one wasn't bad--it revisited some of the characters from some of her previous books, a set that I actually remembered when I started reading this one. Besides, it was free :) My mom had a large box full of books that she was done with and I grabbed a handful to bring home after Christmas. I would have taken all of them, but we were stuffed to the ceiling already with luggage and Christmas gifts.
I also finished Good in Bed. It was funny, like Jennifer Weiner's other books. Her characters usually fall into some predictable patterns (I'm guessing an autobiographical influence here), and this one wasn't much different. But, it was actually a chick-lit-styled murder mystery, and was definitely a fun read.
I'm now on The Kite Runner. I know there's a movie of it coming out, but my chances of seeing that are about nill until it hits cable. Alas. My hubby's not much into movies (he will agree to some of hte bigger ones, typically with enough action or sci fi/fantasy, or at least enough badgering from me), and I doubt it's appropriate for Charlotte. I do hear there's a new Veggie Tales movie opening today, and I have a sneaking suspicion that my husband might actually agree to accompany me and the kids that one.
My list of books to be read (in order of their piles on my bookshelf...roughly based on book dimensions):
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susana Clarke
Eldest (sequel to Eragon and who's author I don't remember and can't see from here)
Wizards' Daughter by Catherine Coulter (it's a romance, not a sci fi, in case you were curious)
Blood Brothers by Nora Roberts
A Salty Piece of Land by Jimmy Buffett,
After the Fire by Belva Plain
Assassin's Apprentice by Robin Hobb (see, Scott, I haven't forgotton!)
El Reino del Dragon De Oro and El Bosque de Los Pigmeos by Isabel Allende (must finish Ciudad de las Bestias first...see my previous post)
The Children of Hurin JRR Tolkein. I'm 1/3 of the way through. It will end up on the top of the stack again at some point and I'll just finish it.
The Virgin Blue by Tracy Chevalier
4 more Nora Roberts paperbacks that I can't read from here (from Mom's stash)
Everlating by Kathleen Woodiwiss
Another random romance paperback whose spine I can't read, but I know I bought for a quarter at the library used book table recently.
That ought to last me at least a couple of days, right? :) Actually, the taller, thinner paperbacks will probably get read the fastest (not the fat historical romances, but the fancier looking ones) because they fit in my pump bag and I will read them in the mother's room at work. That's about the only part of having to pump breastmilk that I will miss after Trystan can have regular milk at daycare--the reading breaks!
4/25/08: Ok, so this is a massivley belated update, which no one will ever read. But I have a correction: It was Goodnight Nobody, not Good in Bed. Same author, different book. Good in Bed was definitely not a murder mystery (though I enjoyed it when I read it several years ago)! Back to my regularly scheduled rambling
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Shopper's Paradise
I'm taking a training class this week in Clayton. Usually I really enjoy these classes because they're 1) a break from the normal routine and 2) I get an hour for lunch without having to work an extra hour at the end of the day. I do, occaisionally, learn something as well.
At lunch today, I actually had a little over an hour, as I was done with the assigned "exercises" a bit before noon. Any extra time I had there was eaten up by having to arrange my pump, however. I have a rather nifty (in theory) breastpump that I can wear around under my clothes, running on batteries. (It's called a Whisper Wear if you're interested but if you look it up online, the thing is no longer made, and the website is long gone). Once on, I look like I'm either stacked, or deformed, depending on how well the two pumps are staying in place. And far from "whispering", the things sound like a pair of asynchronous ducks following me around. In any case, I keep my coat on, and hope no one suspects me of being a suicide bomber.
Today at lunch I made a very poor decision--to drive to the Galleria for lunch and attempt to do some Christmas shopping. Apparently, half of St. Louis had the same idea. And none of them know that there are more than two levels to the parking garage. I think it took me 10 minutes from entering the garage until I found a spot..with about 50 other open spots nearby, all very very close to the Macy's entrance. The first 9.5 of those minutes were spent stuck behind other cars who were waiting for little old ladies to stow their packages and slowly back out of their parking spaces. Seriously, folks, keep driving up to level 3...you will walk the same number of stairs (down!) to the entrance and there is more parking.
Of the million people at the Galleria at noon, at least fifty thousand were eating at the Bread Company. Finding a table was much like finding a parking space, except that Bread Co has no level 3.
Lunch itself was good, but by the time I'd parked and ordered and eaten food, I was tired of the ducks and had to find a restroom to remove them. Either the other ladies in the Famous (sorry, Macy's) restroom didn't see me pulling things out of my bra, or chose to ignore it. I wonder what someone would have thought if they noticed me pouring baggies of white liquid into small bottles and disassembling objects that I pulled out from under my clothes. Maybe I should be composing my defense for drug charges, not bomb threats.
I did manage to buy a Christmas gift for my baby sister, the last person on my list that I hadn't shopped for yet. I got back to class a little late, having forgotten to account for shoppers-that-question-every-price-at-the-register. Given how much time I'm finding to post, I guess I'm not that far behind.
At lunch today, I actually had a little over an hour, as I was done with the assigned "exercises" a bit before noon. Any extra time I had there was eaten up by having to arrange my pump, however. I have a rather nifty (in theory) breastpump that I can wear around under my clothes, running on batteries. (It's called a Whisper Wear if you're interested but if you look it up online, the thing is no longer made, and the website is long gone). Once on, I look like I'm either stacked, or deformed, depending on how well the two pumps are staying in place. And far from "whispering", the things sound like a pair of asynchronous ducks following me around. In any case, I keep my coat on, and hope no one suspects me of being a suicide bomber.
Today at lunch I made a very poor decision--to drive to the Galleria for lunch and attempt to do some Christmas shopping. Apparently, half of St. Louis had the same idea. And none of them know that there are more than two levels to the parking garage. I think it took me 10 minutes from entering the garage until I found a spot..with about 50 other open spots nearby, all very very close to the Macy's entrance. The first 9.5 of those minutes were spent stuck behind other cars who were waiting for little old ladies to stow their packages and slowly back out of their parking spaces. Seriously, folks, keep driving up to level 3...you will walk the same number of stairs (down!) to the entrance and there is more parking.
Of the million people at the Galleria at noon, at least fifty thousand were eating at the Bread Company. Finding a table was much like finding a parking space, except that Bread Co has no level 3.
Lunch itself was good, but by the time I'd parked and ordered and eaten food, I was tired of the ducks and had to find a restroom to remove them. Either the other ladies in the Famous (sorry, Macy's) restroom didn't see me pulling things out of my bra, or chose to ignore it. I wonder what someone would have thought if they noticed me pouring baggies of white liquid into small bottles and disassembling objects that I pulled out from under my clothes. Maybe I should be composing my defense for drug charges, not bomb threats.
I did manage to buy a Christmas gift for my baby sister, the last person on my list that I hadn't shopped for yet. I got back to class a little late, having forgotten to account for shoppers-that-question-every-price-at-the-register. Given how much time I'm finding to post, I guess I'm not that far behind.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Attention
These last couple of days of training have afforded me several instances of unwanted attention, but not attention directly related to my job or the class. These little vignettes are otherwise unrelated, but I found them interesting enough to share. Or maybe I'm just not as intellectually challenged by my class as I ought to be.
Monday at lunch, I headed to the mall food court. I parked outside one of the department stores, and walked through the dreaded first floor to get to the main mall. Mondays at noon must be particularly slow days for the cosmetics/perfume department, or else I had some sort of "sucker for overpriced junk" sticker plastered to my forehead, as I was approached by several pushy salespeople as I tried to speed through. I don't own perfume (most of it gives me a headache) and balk at spending more than $5 for blush at the drug store, so their advances were not welcome. I was tempted to explain to the lady who tried to tell me that her fancy nail buffer was the latest innovation that I have a $1 version at home that works just fine--but that would just be encouraging her to keep talking. I've walked through tourist marketplaces in third world countries with less obnoxious vendors. Sheesh.
Yesterday I had a run-in with the bathroom cleaning lady. I was pumping in the handicapped stall when she came in to clean. First she had to ask, in a rather annoyed voice, what exactly I was doing. After I explained that the power cord and the noise were a breastpump, for making milk for a baby, she started muttering about having to clean the stall I was in and how she didn't want to get in trouble for not cleaning what she was supposed to. I apologized for being in the way, and tried to ask for a couple of minutes to finish up and then I would relinquish my corner of the restroom for cleaning. After another minute or two, I cut my pump session short. As I was leaving, she did apologize to me and asked about the baby. She was older, but had nursed her own. Apparently she had trouble getting people out of another restroom in the building before finding me camped in this one.
Today's attention was less aggravating than the previous two days, but somewhat more mystifying. Walking to lunch, I believe I heard my first cat call in years. It might not have been directed to me, but the UPS driver (be still my beating heart) was looking right at me and the only other person around on the sidewalks was an older lady wearing a large shapeless overcoat. Not that I'm in any real haute couture myself--jeans and a black fleece slightly-nicer-sweatshirt. At Subway where I bought lunch, the cashier, and older (50ish?) man with an Eastern European accent called me beautiful. He also told me that the theme of the day was peace and unity, and had the air of the "would-be-eccentric-if-he-had-money" about him. Strange, but at least neither of my "admirers" were giving off those freaky-predator-stalker vibes, so I can safely be amused and flattered.
Monday at lunch, I headed to the mall food court. I parked outside one of the department stores, and walked through the dreaded first floor to get to the main mall. Mondays at noon must be particularly slow days for the cosmetics/perfume department, or else I had some sort of "sucker for overpriced junk" sticker plastered to my forehead, as I was approached by several pushy salespeople as I tried to speed through. I don't own perfume (most of it gives me a headache) and balk at spending more than $5 for blush at the drug store, so their advances were not welcome. I was tempted to explain to the lady who tried to tell me that her fancy nail buffer was the latest innovation that I have a $1 version at home that works just fine--but that would just be encouraging her to keep talking. I've walked through tourist marketplaces in third world countries with less obnoxious vendors. Sheesh.
Yesterday I had a run-in with the bathroom cleaning lady. I was pumping in the handicapped stall when she came in to clean. First she had to ask, in a rather annoyed voice, what exactly I was doing. After I explained that the power cord and the noise were a breastpump, for making milk for a baby, she started muttering about having to clean the stall I was in and how she didn't want to get in trouble for not cleaning what she was supposed to. I apologized for being in the way, and tried to ask for a couple of minutes to finish up and then I would relinquish my corner of the restroom for cleaning. After another minute or two, I cut my pump session short. As I was leaving, she did apologize to me and asked about the baby. She was older, but had nursed her own. Apparently she had trouble getting people out of another restroom in the building before finding me camped in this one.
Today's attention was less aggravating than the previous two days, but somewhat more mystifying. Walking to lunch, I believe I heard my first cat call in years. It might not have been directed to me, but the UPS driver (be still my beating heart) was looking right at me and the only other person around on the sidewalks was an older lady wearing a large shapeless overcoat. Not that I'm in any real haute couture myself--jeans and a black fleece slightly-nicer-sweatshirt. At Subway where I bought lunch, the cashier, and older (50ish?) man with an Eastern European accent called me beautiful. He also told me that the theme of the day was peace and unity, and had the air of the "would-be-eccentric-if-he-had-money" about him. Strange, but at least neither of my "admirers" were giving off those freaky-predator-stalker vibes, so I can safely be amused and flattered.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Practically a Vacation
I am taking a training class for work this week. Trystan has the tail end of a cold, and got his six month immunizations plus a flu shot on Friday, and the two combined have produced an irksome fussbudget who does not sleep more than 3 hours at a stretch. So this morning I was awakened by dueling alarms--my regular clock, plus the baby monitor. It could have been worse--he might have woken up 30 minutes before my alarm was due to go off, but at least then I might have gotten ready a little earlier.
My husband is staying home with Trystan and attempting to do a little work from home, so that meant that I had to take Charlotte into daycare before heading to my class--usually hubby drops off (or "puts down" as Charlotte calls it) and I pick up. She was unusually agreeable today, thankfully, and drop off went really well. Traffic was not quite as agreeable. Unfortunately, the class takes me in the same direction as most of the metro area, and only after a detour in the wrong direction for daycare.
While we were supposed to be working on exercises (it's a computer class), I snuck out and down the hall to the ladies' restroom to pump. With an extension cord stretched across the sinks and under the handicapped stall wall, I sat on the cold tile floor and tried to get comfortable enough to at least read a little of a fiction book I'd brought along. I do, at least, have a nice hands-free top so I don't have to juggle bottles and horns and worry quite so much about spilling all that effort in my lap or on the floor.
My day has had a bright spot: lunch. I had a little over an hour to eat where I please. I drove to the local mall and sat in the food court and had what very well might be my first child-free meal since Trystan was born that was not eaten a) at my desk at work or b) in the hospital cafeteria. I then had a few minutes left to walk around a shop or two and browse without worrying about strollers or running toddlers.
I've got three more days of this. Ahhhh. Heaven.
My husband is staying home with Trystan and attempting to do a little work from home, so that meant that I had to take Charlotte into daycare before heading to my class--usually hubby drops off (or "puts down" as Charlotte calls it) and I pick up. She was unusually agreeable today, thankfully, and drop off went really well. Traffic was not quite as agreeable. Unfortunately, the class takes me in the same direction as most of the metro area, and only after a detour in the wrong direction for daycare.
While we were supposed to be working on exercises (it's a computer class), I snuck out and down the hall to the ladies' restroom to pump. With an extension cord stretched across the sinks and under the handicapped stall wall, I sat on the cold tile floor and tried to get comfortable enough to at least read a little of a fiction book I'd brought along. I do, at least, have a nice hands-free top so I don't have to juggle bottles and horns and worry quite so much about spilling all that effort in my lap or on the floor.
My day has had a bright spot: lunch. I had a little over an hour to eat where I please. I drove to the local mall and sat in the food court and had what very well might be my first child-free meal since Trystan was born that was not eaten a) at my desk at work or b) in the hospital cafeteria. I then had a few minutes left to walk around a shop or two and browse without worrying about strollers or running toddlers.
I've got three more days of this. Ahhhh. Heaven.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Back to Work
Friday I started back to work. So far, things are going pretty well. Then again, today is only day #3.
I brought Trystan into daycare in the middle of last week for a sort of “show and tell” to train the daycare workers on how to care for his ostomy. I also wrote up a multi-page, step-by-step guide, complete with photos, should they need to apply a new pouch. I’m glad that none of them are squeamish (how can you be when you deal with poop for a living?), and they all were very optimistic about the whole thing. After Friday, they were even more confident that his care is not really much harder than any other baby. Monday, they got to change the bag (in addition to the normal emptying). Twice. Those things are a little touchy—either they last for days at a time, or they come off within hours. Their second attempt was still on strong this morning, so I think it’s a winner. And now, they’re even more comfortable about his care (as am I).
Work for me has been fine. It only took me about two hours to clean the 1100+ email messages I’d accrued from one account. I had a couple of other computer accounts and pin numbers/passwords that had to be re-set. Everyone was friendly and happy to see me. I found the mother’s room with no problem—I am in a different building than when I was still breastfeeding Charlotte. I also got lucky and ran into one of the other moms on her way into the room, so I got the door code from her. My first set of tasks is to run a series of automated tests against the newest build of our software—tests that I originally wrote. It’s not too bad, and I have breaks of up to 10-30 minutes while waiting for tests to complete (or fail) to finish doing the rest of the back-to-work cleanup, and to pump without feeling like I’m taking too much personal time.
The pumping itself has been going great. I was VERY stressed by the whole thing after Charlotte was born, but this time I have several advantages. First, I have several hundred ounces of milk in our deep freezer from Trystan’s first hospital stay (a typical bottle is around 4oz, so we’re talking about weeks worth of food here). With Charlotte, I was able to just barely keep up with her demand—this time there is no problem if I run a little short. I do, however, have to make sure the old stuff gets cycled out, as it only has a shelf life of several months (6+ in a deep freeze, according to LLL, but we’re already at 3 on most of it). Second, I already have all the equipment I need, and then some: electric double-pump, backup hand pump (one that works really well on clogged ducts—just too slow to do at work), hands free band, extra parts, tons of bottles (not to mention all of the ones already in the freezer), etc. Finally, though my supply has dropped off a bit from my initial post-birth pumping (when I think my body was convinced it was feeding twins), my supply seems ample and is taking less time than before (pump running for 10-15 minutes a time instead of 25+).
I think the hardest part is getting up in the morning and getting out the door. It’s much harder with 2 kids, and when getting up some nights to nurse Trystan. Then again, I always felt hurried to get out the door *before* Trystan was born, so I guess that’s not too bad all in all.
I brought Trystan into daycare in the middle of last week for a sort of “show and tell” to train the daycare workers on how to care for his ostomy. I also wrote up a multi-page, step-by-step guide, complete with photos, should they need to apply a new pouch. I’m glad that none of them are squeamish (how can you be when you deal with poop for a living?), and they all were very optimistic about the whole thing. After Friday, they were even more confident that his care is not really much harder than any other baby. Monday, they got to change the bag (in addition to the normal emptying). Twice. Those things are a little touchy—either they last for days at a time, or they come off within hours. Their second attempt was still on strong this morning, so I think it’s a winner. And now, they’re even more comfortable about his care (as am I).
Work for me has been fine. It only took me about two hours to clean the 1100+ email messages I’d accrued from one account. I had a couple of other computer accounts and pin numbers/passwords that had to be re-set. Everyone was friendly and happy to see me. I found the mother’s room with no problem—I am in a different building than when I was still breastfeeding Charlotte. I also got lucky and ran into one of the other moms on her way into the room, so I got the door code from her. My first set of tasks is to run a series of automated tests against the newest build of our software—tests that I originally wrote. It’s not too bad, and I have breaks of up to 10-30 minutes while waiting for tests to complete (or fail) to finish doing the rest of the back-to-work cleanup, and to pump without feeling like I’m taking too much personal time.
The pumping itself has been going great. I was VERY stressed by the whole thing after Charlotte was born, but this time I have several advantages. First, I have several hundred ounces of milk in our deep freezer from Trystan’s first hospital stay (a typical bottle is around 4oz, so we’re talking about weeks worth of food here). With Charlotte, I was able to just barely keep up with her demand—this time there is no problem if I run a little short. I do, however, have to make sure the old stuff gets cycled out, as it only has a shelf life of several months (6+ in a deep freeze, according to LLL, but we’re already at 3 on most of it). Second, I already have all the equipment I need, and then some: electric double-pump, backup hand pump (one that works really well on clogged ducts—just too slow to do at work), hands free band, extra parts, tons of bottles (not to mention all of the ones already in the freezer), etc. Finally, though my supply has dropped off a bit from my initial post-birth pumping (when I think my body was convinced it was feeding twins), my supply seems ample and is taking less time than before (pump running for 10-15 minutes a time instead of 25+).
I think the hardest part is getting up in the morning and getting out the door. It’s much harder with 2 kids, and when getting up some nights to nurse Trystan. Then again, I always felt hurried to get out the door *before* Trystan was born, so I guess that’s not too bad all in all.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Painting the town red (really, Painting the Kitchen Purple)
Charlotte stayed home sick today. She was running a 103.8 temperature yesterday afternoon, and coughing, but by the time we arrived at the doctor's, she was neither coughing much nor feverish. We paid a $10 copay to be told that she probably has a virus, and to call if she gets any worse. I spent most of the appointment time with a kid on each leg, as both wanted to be held, and then I had to nurse Trystan before he would consent to returning to his carseat for the ride home. While her brother had a snack, Charlotte opened every drawer in the exam room, and then tried to wander out into the hall, leaving the door wide open behind her (not that I'm that shy about breastfeeding in "public", but other people sometimes freak out if they glimpse a little skin). That turned out to be the theme of the day: While I feed the baby, Charlotte tries to get into trouble. Today was my first attempt at handling both kids at home without help. Lucky me.
Charlotte fell asleep in the car on the way home for about 10 minutes, which she would later decide to count has her day's "nap". At home, she requested to paint with stamps--she has a craft kit that includes some craft paints, sponge roller, foam stamps, and paintbrush. I pulled out her supplies for her and set her to work on her little table, and then Trystan woke up and wanted to eat. In hindsight, I should have known that he would be hungry when he woke up (as I'd only given him half a feeding at the doctor's office), and should have planned accordingly. Just a note to any other mothers attempting to entertain a toddler while breastfeeding a new baby: activities involving paint are NOT a wise choice. Charlotte managed to paint her paper, her table, the floor, herself, her white sweater (which I'd actually taken off of her beforehand), and several of the kitchen cabinets with a pretty combination of pink, purple, lavendar, and turquoise. To be fair, she didn't actually try to paint anything but her paper, but she dropped her paint tray (a paper plate) at least once, and then opened up cabinets to find a clean towel to wash her hands with. I think she mistook the white sweater for a towel initially.
I attempted to coax Charlotte into a nap in the afternoon, but she wanted to snuggle, and then the baby wanted to eat at the same time, and Charlotte ended up wandering off to play with toys. I attempted to enforce "quiet time" where Charlotte had to stay in her room "quietly" for half an hour, but a poopy diaper cut that short (did I mention that she refused to use the potty all day, and so I ended up doing diaper changes on two kids?).
I took Charlotte to the park near our neighborhood to run off some energy. I don't think that pushing a toddler in a stroller while carrying a baby in a sling exactly counts as "exercise", but nor is it probably high on the list of recommendations for recovery from a c-section either. I'm tired. Thank goodness my husband got home early and took Charlotte to the grocery store to pick up dinner fixings, so I had at least a few minutes of quiet. It wasn't exactly downtime, as I ended up checking email with Trystan in my lap, but it was something. Speaking of which, the kiddo who's back in my lap seems to need both a diaper change and possibly to eat again.
Charlotte fell asleep in the car on the way home for about 10 minutes, which she would later decide to count has her day's "nap". At home, she requested to paint with stamps--she has a craft kit that includes some craft paints, sponge roller, foam stamps, and paintbrush. I pulled out her supplies for her and set her to work on her little table, and then Trystan woke up and wanted to eat. In hindsight, I should have known that he would be hungry when he woke up (as I'd only given him half a feeding at the doctor's office), and should have planned accordingly. Just a note to any other mothers attempting to entertain a toddler while breastfeeding a new baby: activities involving paint are NOT a wise choice. Charlotte managed to paint her paper, her table, the floor, herself, her white sweater (which I'd actually taken off of her beforehand), and several of the kitchen cabinets with a pretty combination of pink, purple, lavendar, and turquoise. To be fair, she didn't actually try to paint anything but her paper, but she dropped her paint tray (a paper plate) at least once, and then opened up cabinets to find a clean towel to wash her hands with. I think she mistook the white sweater for a towel initially.
I attempted to coax Charlotte into a nap in the afternoon, but she wanted to snuggle, and then the baby wanted to eat at the same time, and Charlotte ended up wandering off to play with toys. I attempted to enforce "quiet time" where Charlotte had to stay in her room "quietly" for half an hour, but a poopy diaper cut that short (did I mention that she refused to use the potty all day, and so I ended up doing diaper changes on two kids?).
I took Charlotte to the park near our neighborhood to run off some energy. I don't think that pushing a toddler in a stroller while carrying a baby in a sling exactly counts as "exercise", but nor is it probably high on the list of recommendations for recovery from a c-section either. I'm tired. Thank goodness my husband got home early and took Charlotte to the grocery store to pick up dinner fixings, so I had at least a few minutes of quiet. It wasn't exactly downtime, as I ended up checking email with Trystan in my lap, but it was something. Speaking of which, the kiddo who's back in my lap seems to need both a diaper change and possibly to eat again.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Week in review
Friday, April 13
I'm not sure whether I have more energy or less than I did a week ago. Trystan has been home since Sunday, and I've spent most of the week hanging out in front of the TV, nursing him. A couple of nights, he's actually slept pretty well, and a couple of the nights he's rivalled his sister for the fewest minutes of consecutive sleep in a night. For most of the last day and a half, he's been cluster feeding--wanting to nurse every hour to hour and a half, pretty much around the clock. At the same time, I am starting to feel fairly normal. I'm not exactly up to olympic training or anything, but coughing and sneezing no longer hurt my c-section scar, and I can carry a load of laundry up and down the stairs ok. I'm also getting closer to wearing normal clothes again--my sweats all fit ok, and my "big" jeans (ones two sizes bigger than I normally wear) basically button.
This week, we've had a visit to the pediatrician, and two visits from a home healthcare nurse. Depending on whose scale you believe, Trystan weighs somewhere from 8lbs 4oz to 8lbs 7oz. I received a box of supplies from the medical supply company that was supposed to contain the things to take care of Trystan's ostomy--the bags that cover it and collect the stool, and the assorted accessories (adhesive, skin prep pads, etc). The box arrived and contained everything except the actual bags/pouches--when I called I was told that they were special order and wouldn't be in until next week. While the rubber gloves that they sent were oh so useful (I don't generally wear gloves when changing a diaper...maybe they'll go to daycare eventually), the actual pouches were the most important things in the order, and we are running out of the ones the hospital gave us. I got to talk to the manufacturer, who is sending me a few samples by tomorrow or Monday, so hopefully that will hold us until the real order arrives. If not, the nurse told me that there's a medical supply place in town that may stock the pouches. Worse case, I can improvise with a diaper for a day.
Yesterday was the first time I left the house alone with the baby. We went to the ped's office, and then I stopped by work--my coworkers had put together a new baby present :) I had sort of forgotten how long it can take to get out of the house with a baby, with last minute nursing sessions and crying spells as I attempted to buckle him into his car seat. I am happy to report that Trystan was quiet and even slept most of the time in the car--unlike his big sister who screamed bloody murder during every car ride for the first 4 months. I think by next week I will start picking Charlotte up from daycare in the afternoons again--I'm sure her daycare workers will be thrilled to meet Trystan :)
I'm not sure whether I have more energy or less than I did a week ago. Trystan has been home since Sunday, and I've spent most of the week hanging out in front of the TV, nursing him. A couple of nights, he's actually slept pretty well, and a couple of the nights he's rivalled his sister for the fewest minutes of consecutive sleep in a night. For most of the last day and a half, he's been cluster feeding--wanting to nurse every hour to hour and a half, pretty much around the clock. At the same time, I am starting to feel fairly normal. I'm not exactly up to olympic training or anything, but coughing and sneezing no longer hurt my c-section scar, and I can carry a load of laundry up and down the stairs ok. I'm also getting closer to wearing normal clothes again--my sweats all fit ok, and my "big" jeans (ones two sizes bigger than I normally wear) basically button.
This week, we've had a visit to the pediatrician, and two visits from a home healthcare nurse. Depending on whose scale you believe, Trystan weighs somewhere from 8lbs 4oz to 8lbs 7oz. I received a box of supplies from the medical supply company that was supposed to contain the things to take care of Trystan's ostomy--the bags that cover it and collect the stool, and the assorted accessories (adhesive, skin prep pads, etc). The box arrived and contained everything except the actual bags/pouches--when I called I was told that they were special order and wouldn't be in until next week. While the rubber gloves that they sent were oh so useful (I don't generally wear gloves when changing a diaper...maybe they'll go to daycare eventually), the actual pouches were the most important things in the order, and we are running out of the ones the hospital gave us. I got to talk to the manufacturer, who is sending me a few samples by tomorrow or Monday, so hopefully that will hold us until the real order arrives. If not, the nurse told me that there's a medical supply place in town that may stock the pouches. Worse case, I can improvise with a diaper for a day.
Yesterday was the first time I left the house alone with the baby. We went to the ped's office, and then I stopped by work--my coworkers had put together a new baby present :) I had sort of forgotten how long it can take to get out of the house with a baby, with last minute nursing sessions and crying spells as I attempted to buckle him into his car seat. I am happy to report that Trystan was quiet and even slept most of the time in the car--unlike his big sister who screamed bloody murder during every car ride for the first 4 months. I think by next week I will start picking Charlotte up from daycare in the afternoons again--I'm sure her daycare workers will be thrilled to meet Trystan :)
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
How I'm doing
We have had a lot going on the last two weeks, and I have taken very little time to post, or even read my email. So far, I've posted a couple of times about Trystan. There's quite a bit more I could mention, but first, I think I'll answer a question that I get a lot: How am I doing? :)
Let's start with Trystan's birth. As I posted previously, I was hoping to have a VBAC this time. To this end, I didn't want any induction, or drugs to help contractions, or pain relief, as all of these things can make you more likely to end up with interventions. After going in and out of labor for a week or so (including a couple of false-alarm trips to the hospital), I finally went into real labor Wednesday, March 21. Early in the day, I took Charlotte to the zoo with a friend and her son, hoping to enjoy the beautiful spring weather, and to walk myself int labor, and it worked. By evening I was having contractions that were pretty regular. Around 2:30AM the contractions were strong enough to keep me from sleeping, and I labored at home on a yoga ball and walking around until closer to 4. We drove into the hospital, and I was told that I was at 4cm dilated, but that the baby's head was still pretty high. I labored all morning, and by 10AM, they checked me again, and I was still 4cm dilated, with the baby's head not at my cervix. At this point, I talked to my OB, and he suggested that we go ahead with a C-section, as my contractions (which were painful and regular), were not successful at moving the baby down. I think that was a good decision, as I was tired but not yet exhausted, and I'd been laboring for like 6 hours with no discernable change. I remember this C-section a lot better than I do Charlotte's because I wasn't as exhausted to start (not having labored for 17 hours and pushed for 2 more). Trystan was born at 12:52PM. I think my hip bones are not built to allow a baby's head out...a 6.5 pound baby got stuck, and the 7lb 12oz one never even made it to the birth canal.
The first 24 hours went pretty normally--I was a little nauseous after the delivery, but was able to nurse Trystan fairly quickly (we didn't yet know that he shouldn't be eating). By morning, my OB stopped by and OK'd solid food for me, so I didn't have to spend a day on "clear liquids" like I did last time. Mid-morning on Friday, they removed my catheter and I was able to hobble to the bathroom without assistance--I felt MUCH better and stronger than I had after Charlotte was born. That turned out to be a huge blessing, as one of the nurses discovered Trystan's lack of an anus around noon, and he was on his way to St. Louis Children's hospital by 1 or 2pm, and I could ride in a wheelchair down to the nursery to say goodbye to him before he left. I cried a lot Friday afternoon. My husband and my mom rode with Trystan to the other hospital, but I had my baby sister (she's 10) to keep me company until my mother-in-law came with Charlotte around dinner time.
Friday night, I took a shower and put on a fresh nightgown of my own, and slept OK. The nurses had brought a breastpump into my room as soon as Trystan left, and I took comfort in pumping for my baby since I couldn't hold and nurse him. Saturday morning, my OB came by and discharged me so I could go to Children's for Trystan's surgery. He, along with our family pediatrician, and all of the doctors and chaplain at Missouri Baptist were all wonderful. The nurse loaded up a cart with diapers, nursing pads, bottles, and pads for us to take home. My in-laws brought me clothes and drove me to Childrens.
I spent the next couple of days being wheeled around Children's in a wheelchair, relaxing in the recliner in Trystan's room, hobbling down the hall to the NICU's pump room, and sleeping in my own bed at night after kissing my daughter goodnight. By the Tuesday after Trystan was born, I was in good enough shape to walk (slowly) in from the parking garage instead of taking a wheelchair. By Thursday, I was able to skip the stronger painkiller and just rely on ibuprofin, so I could start driving myself to the hospital.
I am beginning to feel like a milk cow. I was instructed to pump 6-8 times a day to help my milk come in, including at least one time overnight. I have a good breastpump at home from when Charlotte was still nursing, and I can use the hosptial-grade ones in the NICU while I am there. Like my general speed of recovery, my milk supply has been a bright spot during the last two weeks. I nursed Charlotte until she was nearly 20 months old, and my milk came back in quickly, and with a vengeance. I am currently getting 6-8 ounces at every pump, which is probably twice what Trystan would be eating. I'm afraid to back off of the pumping too much, because it will be hard to rebuild later. In the mean time, we've dedicated a whole shelf of our deep freezer to the milk that I'm pumping at home. I also have a lot of milk at the hospital that I pumped while Trystan was not yet eating. I guess I won't have to stress about having enough stored milk when I go back to work in a couple of months... Now that Trystan has finally started breastfeeding again at the hospital, I'm not pumping as much there, and what I do pump is stored in a refrigerator for overnight feedings. Amusingly enough, I didn't start leaking any milk until he started nursing again, and now I have to watch my shirt after I feed him to make sure I'm still decent.
In general, I'm feeling pretty good. I am not crying all the time--I won't pretend that I'm happy-go-lucky at the moment, but I don't seem to have the baby blues. I'm able to walk and drive and am getting better at bending and stretching every day. My milk is not a source of stress. I'm able to spend my days sitting next to my baby, holding him and nursing him, much like I would do at home. I am looking forward to spending my evenings and nights with him also, which will hopefully be soon!
Let's start with Trystan's birth. As I posted previously, I was hoping to have a VBAC this time. To this end, I didn't want any induction, or drugs to help contractions, or pain relief, as all of these things can make you more likely to end up with interventions. After going in and out of labor for a week or so (including a couple of false-alarm trips to the hospital), I finally went into real labor Wednesday, March 21. Early in the day, I took Charlotte to the zoo with a friend and her son, hoping to enjoy the beautiful spring weather, and to walk myself int labor, and it worked. By evening I was having contractions that were pretty regular. Around 2:30AM the contractions were strong enough to keep me from sleeping, and I labored at home on a yoga ball and walking around until closer to 4. We drove into the hospital, and I was told that I was at 4cm dilated, but that the baby's head was still pretty high. I labored all morning, and by 10AM, they checked me again, and I was still 4cm dilated, with the baby's head not at my cervix. At this point, I talked to my OB, and he suggested that we go ahead with a C-section, as my contractions (which were painful and regular), were not successful at moving the baby down. I think that was a good decision, as I was tired but not yet exhausted, and I'd been laboring for like 6 hours with no discernable change. I remember this C-section a lot better than I do Charlotte's because I wasn't as exhausted to start (not having labored for 17 hours and pushed for 2 more). Trystan was born at 12:52PM. I think my hip bones are not built to allow a baby's head out...a 6.5 pound baby got stuck, and the 7lb 12oz one never even made it to the birth canal.
The first 24 hours went pretty normally--I was a little nauseous after the delivery, but was able to nurse Trystan fairly quickly (we didn't yet know that he shouldn't be eating). By morning, my OB stopped by and OK'd solid food for me, so I didn't have to spend a day on "clear liquids" like I did last time. Mid-morning on Friday, they removed my catheter and I was able to hobble to the bathroom without assistance--I felt MUCH better and stronger than I had after Charlotte was born. That turned out to be a huge blessing, as one of the nurses discovered Trystan's lack of an anus around noon, and he was on his way to St. Louis Children's hospital by 1 or 2pm, and I could ride in a wheelchair down to the nursery to say goodbye to him before he left. I cried a lot Friday afternoon. My husband and my mom rode with Trystan to the other hospital, but I had my baby sister (she's 10) to keep me company until my mother-in-law came with Charlotte around dinner time.
Friday night, I took a shower and put on a fresh nightgown of my own, and slept OK. The nurses had brought a breastpump into my room as soon as Trystan left, and I took comfort in pumping for my baby since I couldn't hold and nurse him. Saturday morning, my OB came by and discharged me so I could go to Children's for Trystan's surgery. He, along with our family pediatrician, and all of the doctors and chaplain at Missouri Baptist were all wonderful. The nurse loaded up a cart with diapers, nursing pads, bottles, and pads for us to take home. My in-laws brought me clothes and drove me to Childrens.
I spent the next couple of days being wheeled around Children's in a wheelchair, relaxing in the recliner in Trystan's room, hobbling down the hall to the NICU's pump room, and sleeping in my own bed at night after kissing my daughter goodnight. By the Tuesday after Trystan was born, I was in good enough shape to walk (slowly) in from the parking garage instead of taking a wheelchair. By Thursday, I was able to skip the stronger painkiller and just rely on ibuprofin, so I could start driving myself to the hospital.
I am beginning to feel like a milk cow. I was instructed to pump 6-8 times a day to help my milk come in, including at least one time overnight. I have a good breastpump at home from when Charlotte was still nursing, and I can use the hosptial-grade ones in the NICU while I am there. Like my general speed of recovery, my milk supply has been a bright spot during the last two weeks. I nursed Charlotte until she was nearly 20 months old, and my milk came back in quickly, and with a vengeance. I am currently getting 6-8 ounces at every pump, which is probably twice what Trystan would be eating. I'm afraid to back off of the pumping too much, because it will be hard to rebuild later. In the mean time, we've dedicated a whole shelf of our deep freezer to the milk that I'm pumping at home. I also have a lot of milk at the hospital that I pumped while Trystan was not yet eating. I guess I won't have to stress about having enough stored milk when I go back to work in a couple of months... Now that Trystan has finally started breastfeeding again at the hospital, I'm not pumping as much there, and what I do pump is stored in a refrigerator for overnight feedings. Amusingly enough, I didn't start leaking any milk until he started nursing again, and now I have to watch my shirt after I feed him to make sure I'm still decent.
In general, I'm feeling pretty good. I am not crying all the time--I won't pretend that I'm happy-go-lucky at the moment, but I don't seem to have the baby blues. I'm able to walk and drive and am getting better at bending and stretching every day. My milk is not a source of stress. I'm able to spend my days sitting next to my baby, holding him and nursing him, much like I would do at home. I am looking forward to spending my evenings and nights with him also, which will hopefully be soon!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Friday update on Trystan
Today was a good day. Trystan seems to be doing quite well. He was eating today! He had a colostomy last Saturday, and had not eaten since early Friday. Actually, if his condition had been caught earlier, he would not probably have eaten at all, as there was nowhere to let the waste out from. In any case, they had placed a tube down his nose and into his stomach to suck out bile and meconium that was coming back up. On Tuesday, the nurse had removed the suction tube, and Tuesday night they attempted to feed him a small amount. One unfortunate side effect of having surgery where your intestines are handled is that the normal peristalsys (sp?) can get halted or reversed temporarily--lucky me, I got a small taste of this myself with the C-section. Basically, it takes a couple of days for food to move, and in the correct direction. So Tuesday night, Trystan threw up bile and had his suction tube replaced. Thursday the tube was back out again, and mid-afternoon, we attempted to feed him again.
Trystan had breastmilk fresh from the tap for the first nearly 24 hours of his life. Thursday afternoon, the doctors ordered that he try pedialyte in a bottle first. If you've never tasted the "unflavored" pedialyte, my husband describes the taste like this: wet down your concrete patio and then lick it. Tasty, huh. Then add it to a bottle with a rubber nipple (a "disposable" rubber nipple at that), and you are not talking about a tasty treat, especially for someone who has only ever tasted sweet breastmilk. He made the funniest faces and even gagged at the taste of the pedialyte before finally taking about half an ounce. Luckily, it stayed down and he got breastmilk (still in a bottle) 3 hours later. Today I fed him two of his feedings of breastmilk from bottles, and decided that he really isn't that thrilled with the rubber nipples. He also remembers that I nursed him, and I'd have to cradle him in the nursing position, wait for him to root on my breast, and then slip in the bottle to get him to take it from me--apparently the nurses have had a bit better time (they are also much better at bottle feeding than I am--I breastfed Charlotte for 19-20 months, but left the bottles for other people). The third feeding, the surgeons had said that they didn't care whether he took a bottle or breastfed, as long as he was eating and it stayed down, so I nursed him--he was quite happy to latch and eat his fill with no reluctance. The surgeon had not written anything down, and the nurse was somewhat skeptical (I think this one likes to do everything exactly by the book--not a bad trait), but he ate and we were both happy. I just hope he isn't too upset with the nurses tonight when they offer him more bottles.
I also got to give Trystan a bath today--they've been doing it at night after we leave, but he had not gotten one last night. He had his regular newborn hearing test, and passed. They started him on oral amoxycillin, which is a preventitive measure. On Monday, they will do a dye test to check out the true state of his kidney function (they've been working so far, but with his abnormalities, they're concerned that parts of the system may not work as well or things could flow backwards). I also got in plenty of snuggle time, and got to hold and interact with him during a long span of time where he was wide awake and checking out the room.
Oh yeah, and I drove myself today. I had a repeat C-section (might post a more detailed birth story later), and I've been fine without the percoset (narcotic pain reliever) for the last two days. So I was safe to drive today. I'm actually feeling pretty good--my recovery has been much quicker than with Charlotte, but I've had reason to walk a lot more, which is probably helping quite a bit. My tummy is still saggy and smooshy and I do feel the incision, but it is much less painful and/or annoying than last time--my doctor's use of sutures instead of staples helps a lot--the staples were in for nearly a week last time and themselves were very annoying.
Maybe next time I update, I'll include a photo. He's really a cutie if I do say so myself.
Trystan had breastmilk fresh from the tap for the first nearly 24 hours of his life. Thursday afternoon, the doctors ordered that he try pedialyte in a bottle first. If you've never tasted the "unflavored" pedialyte, my husband describes the taste like this: wet down your concrete patio and then lick it. Tasty, huh. Then add it to a bottle with a rubber nipple (a "disposable" rubber nipple at that), and you are not talking about a tasty treat, especially for someone who has only ever tasted sweet breastmilk. He made the funniest faces and even gagged at the taste of the pedialyte before finally taking about half an ounce. Luckily, it stayed down and he got breastmilk (still in a bottle) 3 hours later. Today I fed him two of his feedings of breastmilk from bottles, and decided that he really isn't that thrilled with the rubber nipples. He also remembers that I nursed him, and I'd have to cradle him in the nursing position, wait for him to root on my breast, and then slip in the bottle to get him to take it from me--apparently the nurses have had a bit better time (they are also much better at bottle feeding than I am--I breastfed Charlotte for 19-20 months, but left the bottles for other people). The third feeding, the surgeons had said that they didn't care whether he took a bottle or breastfed, as long as he was eating and it stayed down, so I nursed him--he was quite happy to latch and eat his fill with no reluctance. The surgeon had not written anything down, and the nurse was somewhat skeptical (I think this one likes to do everything exactly by the book--not a bad trait), but he ate and we were both happy. I just hope he isn't too upset with the nurses tonight when they offer him more bottles.
I also got to give Trystan a bath today--they've been doing it at night after we leave, but he had not gotten one last night. He had his regular newborn hearing test, and passed. They started him on oral amoxycillin, which is a preventitive measure. On Monday, they will do a dye test to check out the true state of his kidney function (they've been working so far, but with his abnormalities, they're concerned that parts of the system may not work as well or things could flow backwards). I also got in plenty of snuggle time, and got to hold and interact with him during a long span of time where he was wide awake and checking out the room.
Oh yeah, and I drove myself today. I had a repeat C-section (might post a more detailed birth story later), and I've been fine without the percoset (narcotic pain reliever) for the last two days. So I was safe to drive today. I'm actually feeling pretty good--my recovery has been much quicker than with Charlotte, but I've had reason to walk a lot more, which is probably helping quite a bit. My tummy is still saggy and smooshy and I do feel the incision, but it is much less painful and/or annoying than last time--my doctor's use of sutures instead of staples helps a lot--the staples were in for nearly a week last time and themselves were very annoying.
Maybe next time I update, I'll include a photo. He's really a cutie if I do say so myself.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Nursing in Public...a small vent
I heard on the radio this morning that a nursing mother had been kicked off of an airplane. The airline claims that she refused to cover up with a blanket, so they asked her to leave. This sort of story really makes me mad. Why on earth should she have to attempt to cover with a blanket, when she is feeding a child? Do you eat under a blanket? Have you ever tried? It would be a bit uncomfortable, and hot, and stuffy to simply cover my head with a blanket, let alone attempt to drink while I'm under there. Get real, folks.
Breastfeeding is not something that needs to be covered up, like some sort of shameful sexual act. The airline isn't claiming that the mother in question stripped to the waist and then wandered up and down the aisles of a fully loaded passenger plane. She was sitting in her seat (by the window), with her husband immediately next to her. And they weren't attempting to join the mile high club, she was providing food to a baby.
I guess I was just lucky. In the 19 months that I breastfed Charlotte, I was never once asked to cover up, or to leave a room while breastfeeding (I frequently felt I needed to, but that was due to an easily-distracted baby, not because someone else asked me to). I breastfed her at the zoo (in the reptile house, actually), while walking in the March of Dimes walk, at restaurants, at church, in an airplane, and countless other places. I actually even used an electric breast pump on an airplane during a business trip (I was covered up that time--those things are a lot less discrete than a baby's head).
I find it very sad that so many people today find it offensive to breastfeed a baby in a place where there is a chance that, if you're really staring at the mother's bosom, that you might catch a glimpse of flesh. Yet they somehow don't find all of the rubber and silicone nipples on bottles that are designed to look pretty much just like the real thing offensive at all. Apparently rubber replicas of body parts are socially acceptable in places where the real thing is not.....
Breastfeeding is not something that needs to be covered up, like some sort of shameful sexual act. The airline isn't claiming that the mother in question stripped to the waist and then wandered up and down the aisles of a fully loaded passenger plane. She was sitting in her seat (by the window), with her husband immediately next to her. And they weren't attempting to join the mile high club, she was providing food to a baby.
I guess I was just lucky. In the 19 months that I breastfed Charlotte, I was never once asked to cover up, or to leave a room while breastfeeding (I frequently felt I needed to, but that was due to an easily-distracted baby, not because someone else asked me to). I breastfed her at the zoo (in the reptile house, actually), while walking in the March of Dimes walk, at restaurants, at church, in an airplane, and countless other places. I actually even used an electric breast pump on an airplane during a business trip (I was covered up that time--those things are a lot less discrete than a baby's head).
I find it very sad that so many people today find it offensive to breastfeed a baby in a place where there is a chance that, if you're really staring at the mother's bosom, that you might catch a glimpse of flesh. Yet they somehow don't find all of the rubber and silicone nipples on bottles that are designed to look pretty much just like the real thing offensive at all. Apparently rubber replicas of body parts are socially acceptable in places where the real thing is not.....
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