One Month Worries

Our little LadyBug is one month old!

And for her birthday, we went to see the lactation specialist! Yahoo! There was much fun had by all. Lainie particularly had a good time. She really enjoyed the part where she finally got to eat, her favorite pass time.

So here's the scoop. She's fine. We're fine. Yea, she could be a better 'suckler' ...but she's fine. Mommy's the one with the issues. Go figure. 

Do you know the ole' adage, "If it isn't broken, don't fix it."? I've re-vamped it... 

"If it isn't broken, break it. Now you have to fix it." 

For example: Lainie is sleeping in a bouncer. She is sleeping well in a bouncer. She would cause envy in a mother's heart whose child doesn't sleep through the night. But she doesn't sleep in her crib. Now I think I have to get her to sleep in her crib. Some way, some how, she's going to be sleeping in her crib or I'll never rest! I mean, why should I let my sleeping child have a good nights sleep if I can mess it all up by trying to get her to sleep on her back in her wasteland of a crib where she feels no comfort? Lunacy, I tell you.

Another example: Lainie nurses well. She nurses long, but she nurses well. Somehow I've gotten it into my head that she should only nurse for a few minutes and be completely satisfied. This is completely impossible. For one thing, we've been supplementing with formula to rid her body of the jaundice. However, now that we've fought that battle, we've gotten ourselves into a whole different mess. She's EXTRA hungry. Or maybe she's just normal hungry, but my body doesn't know it because we've given her formula instead of letting her nurse for the extra. Perhaps you can see the dilemma we're in. I can't nurse her 24 hours a day (although it feels like I do sometimes) and I can't naturally keep her satisfied as of yet. I am in a pickle. How am I ever going to get off of formula??? This is a touchy subject for me, just ask my husband.

Enter: the Lactation Consultant, Mary Lou. Dear woman, she was. She seemed just as perplexed by our situation as I am. However, after observing us nurse and discussing our routine we have come to a partial solution. She told me that babies really get the majority of the milk out within the first 10-15 minutes, which means the extra 15+ that I'm doing on each side are mostly just a comfort. Now, I'm all for comforting my child, but if I can cut our nursing down to half the time...I'm all for it. Other good news is that Lainie is still getting the most out of my supply even with the shield, which has been known to hinder the 'flow' if you will. So, if I pump out the extra after about a half hour of nursing that should keep my supply well stocked and keep our nursing time down to a manageable thing. 

Let me address one more thing. I have found my worry button. It seems to have grown in while I was pregnant. It's all I can do but worry about everything these days. However, I am thankful to be reminded of Jesus' words... 

Matthew 6:27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? 

and then 

Philippians 4:6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 

I can say these verses pretty quickly, but do I actually do what they say? Honestly? Not really. I would rather spend my time trying to solve the problem or worry myself angry. It's hard to believe that the Lord really cares about how I feel about nursing my wee babe. That He cares enough to already have a solution in mind, I'm just too busy worrying and planning to wait for it. I pray this changes in me. Otherwise, I will drive myself, my husband and my milk supply out of the house if I don't surrender this nonsense. 

So, Lord Jesus, thank you for the ability to feed my child. Thank you for the challenges it brings where I can also learn to depend on you for everything I need. Even milk. Please help me to accept our situation and if it is your will that I can eventually supply the amount she needs, please help me patiently wait for it. 

Bottles, Boobs, and Invisible Rules

I have discovered something amazing. A breast pump. A novel concept, no?

Before I had Lainie, I thought-- Breastfeeding, there's nothing better. It's going to be so simple, easy and way portable! I won't have any issues at all. Tra la la!

Enter--real life. 

Now, I won't complain about it, too much. It is a wonderful thing. The baby gets all the good milks from the mamas and she's well nourished and we're bonding, all good things. Here are a few of the more unpleasant aspects as I have recently discovered them.

A #1. I am fairly large chested. Add my milk and they're double huge. This creates quite a challenge when trying to feed my wee babe.  I must continually be very careful not to smother my sweet one, which then leads me to my next point.

B #2. I have horrible posture already, add in breastfeeding and you can just call me Quasimodo. While I'm attempting to keep my child breathing and feeding at the same time, this inevitably puts me in the position to develop a fantastic hunchback. And so far, any attempt to correct this posture hurts worse than the bad posture itself, so I tend to give in and slump. (Don't say the word 'chiropractor' to me, that costs $$, and well, that's not a luxury I can afford at the moment.)

C #3. Night feedings---'nuff said. Put the top two elements with a tired mama and what do you get? At least 3 out of the 7 Dwarfs, and Happy isn't one of them. He will be replaced by Slouchy in any dramatic productions that follow.

So what am I to do about this you ask? Well, thanks to one generous friend who isn't using her pump at the present time, I have a breast pump to use. Woot! This makes me happy, for sure and certain. I have discovered how nice it is to pump for 5 minutes and have a 1 hour feeding session cut down by half at least! Plus, I get to see just how much she's eating! Now, I cannot guarantee she's eating as much off me as I pump, but I think it stands to reason that I wouldn't be producing as much as I am if she wasn't. 

So we are living a double life. Half bottle, half boob. And she's taking it quite well. *incoming TMI* I think it has to do with the fact that I am using a nipple shield at the moment. She can adjust a little easier back and forth this way. Although, I do hope for a day when we can lose that helpful piece. 

I do want to say I have issues. Haha. Isn't that an understatement? In a previous post, I mentioned how I dislike "guess what I heard happened to a friend of mine" stories from other parents. Those are never a good thing for me. I feel as though they have had something to do with the "LIST OF INVISIBLE RULES" I have found in my head. 

Such as...

1. Breast feeding is the only option. And you must do it skin to skin. Otherwise your baby will hate you.

2. Your baby must eat every 2-4 hours and if she doesn't she will starve. Thank you, Hospital Nurses for that one.

3. Formula babies aren't as smart as breastfed babies. Now, this one apparently has some clout but since we're living a double life anyway--I figure she'll at least be halfway intelligent. 

My main point here is, I am wondering where all of these rules came from and why can't I break free of them? I honestly feel shackled to them sometimes and often I have to remind myself that I have a healthy baby girl and she is eating, pooping, and sleeping. Those are all really good things for a baby to be doing. It seems crazy to me that other people's opinions on this subject have been so drilled in my mind that I can't get around these "rules"! Well you know what rules...I quit you. That's right, you're dead to me. 

And now for a cute picture of my bebe.

Home Sweet Home + A Visit from Grandma

...Home Sweet Home...

We have been home with our little bundle for 2 weeks! I can't believe my little one is already 2 weeks old!

Does my baby look a little bit like E.T.?

If you're wondering what the lovely blue hue behind my sweet, darling, baby girl is I will tell you. After a short story.

First of all, when we came home from the hospital two weeks ago today, I was a little nervous. What do we do now? Now we've got this little baby thing around who needs all the love and attention I can muster. Oh dear. It's real, isn't it? Thankfully the Lord is helping me take it one day at a time. It seems it could get overwhelming really quickly, especially if I try to picture the future at any time. 

We came home Wednesday evening to a clean house, clean laundry, mowed yard, and food on the stove. We have a wonderful family, don't you agree? It is so nice to be cared for. I called my sister in law to thank her and she told me that although the kids were beyond excited to come over for a visit, she would hold them off until the next day. I was extremely grateful for that. 

I wasted no time placing my little bundle in the crib, which is actually a smaller than average, and she still looks teeny.

I'm 40 hours old!

Drew and I sat and stared at her a while, at our supper and passed out. Until she woke up, about 5 minutes later. 

But as the days went we got more used to having a sweet little bundle with us. I was worried as can be about feeding her. My supply seemed puny and my milk was just barely making an appearance. But again, time won out. The next day or two my milk came in, and we worked diligently to nurse. 

When it came time for our doctor's appointment I had discovered Lainie was a bit jaundice so that was my main concern. The doctor confirmed it the minute she entered the room. "Oh you have a jaundice baby," she said. Well, that's good that you can see that from the minute you laid eyes on her. Sheesh. So after getting her blood work done (I cried) to have her bilirubin levels tested, we found out that her numbers were super high! The doctor guessed her to be at a 10 or so, but she was at 18! (For frame of reference, 15 is not so nice, and in need of action.) We had to get a bili-blanket and extra formula to supplement to flush her system and keep her well nourished. Enter more worry.

I have a pet peeve. It is one I think I bring on myself, but it is also one that everyone does no matter if they realize it or not. I hate stories. I like stories too, but mostly, I hate them. I am not a fan of people telling me what happened to them or someone else they know. They only bring on worry and fear for me. I appreciate the concern which brings up the stories in the first place...but I have about had my fill. Even though she's only two weeks I know we're in for the long haul with this battle, so I shall surrender this to the Lord and politely decline to listen to any further tales. 

With that said, I have been worried sick over her feedings for nearly a week. Since we've been on the formula I've been unsure of my own supply, and concerned that once we get off of it she's not going to be satisfied with what I can offer her. And I can worry. I am very good at it. Not to mention that every time we nurse she falls asleep after about 10 minutes. But give her a bottle and she's alert as can be! Little stinker. So with prayer and some diligent (back aching) nursing I think we should be fine. 

Lainie also has a hematoma on her head from being stuck and me pushing for so long. She had a major cone head and now we're dealing with the remainder of that. It's best not to read anything on the internet...like I just did. Yikes. Again with the stories. However, the doctors are confident that she should absorb the extra blood in time, but that means her jaundice will only drag out that much more.  Prayer for her healing would be great.

So here we are, two weeks into life and she's already to Daddy wrapped around her finger and Mommy at her beck and call. 

A Visit From Grandma

This weekend was 4th of July and we had visitors! My Mom and step-dad came to meet their grandbaby!

Grandma and Lainie at the pool.

We had a lovely visit and got to spend some time with my brother and his family as well. His kids really enjoy getting to know another set of grandparents (although they're not really related). We got to go swimming at the hotel pool and eat out at the Golden Corral. Grandma got some much needed snuggles in with her granddaughter and we got to sing and play the piano together. It was a lovely time and we look forward to seeing them again really soon.

3 Gen

Life is New(born)

Dear Cyperworld and Friends; Meet our daughter, Lainie Mae.

She is beautiful, no?

...she came EARLY!!!

Here's the Labor and Delivery run down:
Monday the 23rd
1:09 am: Whoa, what is that? Oh, I think it was a contraction. That was crazy.
1:44 am: Huh? Oh, another contraction. Ouch that hurts.
1:59 am: Oh dear, here comes another one. This is odd.
2:05 am: Is it just me or are these getting more frequent?
2:10 am: Oh dear, that's 5 minutes apart, I'd better start keeping track now.

And so and and so forth for the next 5 hours. Drew and I decided once I "couldn't" breathe through them we should probably make our way to the hospital. So we left our house at 7:30 am and drove the 30 minutes to the hospital. And guess what. No more contractions...or at least very few. I managed to have one more right as Drew was saying how he wasn't sure we should even go in, so he took me anyway.

I walked in all smiles, "Hello nursing staff, I think I am in labor!" *grinning like an idiot

...You can probably guess what happened from here.

Obliged to do their duty, they put me in an exam room, hooked me up to their monitors and proceeded to laugh at me from their station as I did not have any contractions for at least 15-20 minutes. And when I did, they were piddly, nothing contractions. Drew was scolding me for not having better ones to show them. I felt so stupid.

Our nurse came in to check me a while later and after a pretty rough exam told me I was only 50%/1cm...which by the way was less than what I was told two days prior at my appointment. I cried.

Let me interrupt myself to say that back labor is NO fun at all. Especially if you're being told you're not actually in labor. NO FUN.

Around 11:30 they sent me on my way. Boo hiss.

Promptly, as we were leaving the hospital's double doors, I grabbed onto Drew and had an incredibly intense contraction. He almost turned me around but I couldn't just sit there in their uncomfortable chair/bed and do nothing so we went on our way.

From that minute I started having contractions again and now they were way more intense and only 3 minutes apart.

However, since we had already been turned away mere minutes before this, rather than driving the 30 minutes home (only to potentially come right back) we decided to go to the grocery store and then head to the job site where Drew had been working to let him get a few hours of work in. I was going to labor in the car in the shade. But I did manage to sneak a McChicken into my tummy before got there. (Ladies, if you're in labor and you want food...just have a tear jerking contraction and your husband will comply nicely.)

So there I was laying in the car trying to distract myself from the bugger inside my uterus who was trying to escape. I tried to read, play a game on our phone, and I called my mom and whined to her a little while. That helped a ton. And after several more hours of non stop contracting, I finally called my doctor to tell her that I had officially been contracting for 12 hours and I wasn't having such a good time.

She agreed to see me at the hospital between 4-5 pm to check me herself. This is when I tried with all my might to not get my hopes up.

We walked back into Labor and Delivery with news that Dr. Thompson was going to see me herself. So there. So once again, I climbed into the "bed" and promptly began to decrease in contracting. NICE. I kept moving and changing positions in an attempt to make myself contract. It worked, but man they were puny. Eventually the Dr. came in and checked me (she was much easier on me than the previous nurse had been.) and to my surprise and delight she told me I'd nearly thinned out completely! Yay for me!! I was still at a one, but since the average progression rate is one 'contemeter' an hour she told me to wander for a bit and come back. Drew and I found our way to the cafeteria and ate some chicken tenders and fries (meanwhile I'm breathing like an idiot, this will make more sense later on in the story, and trying not to fall over).

Upon our arrival back in Labor and Delivery for the 3rd time, I climbed right into bed and waited patiently for the nice doctor to send us home. But lo and behold, I was almost at 2 cm now!! YAY FOR ME AGAIN!! She gave me a choice, can you guess what I chose? I practically ran to our birthing room.

It was there that I met (let's call her, Nurse X to protect her identity of course) Nurse X. She was a wide variety of everything a nurse should be. Looking back, I really appreciated her and all that she did. However at the time I was not super happy about following her instructions. Didn't she know I was in pain?! I am proud to say that I only said one mildly, nasty thing the whole time I was in labor, and that was only because she was checking my cervix during a contraction.

As we rounded the corner of  7pm, I was IV'd, in bed, and being scolded. About every 4 minutes.

"Why are you breathing like that? Sit down! I can still hear you!" Nurse X was not impressed with my laboring skills. But how was I supposed to know what to do?! So after some time I eventually calmed down and was able to breath (semi) normally for quite a while. Until...

Nurse X: "Would you like a shot of pain killer (demon drink) until the anesthesiologist gets here with your epidural?"

Me: "Duh. I mean, yes please."

In goes the Demerol, and out go my lights. I felt hazy and a little drunk to the point where I couldn't keep track of time anymore. But guess what I could still feel? The pain. It didn't help...well, I can't say that. It may have been a contributing factor to what happened next.

I grabbed Drew's hand as another contraction came upon me and started my slow breathing. But it just kept building and building. I couldn't breathe right and the contraction wouldn't subside. Nurse X started for the door and called for help while saying, "this should have stopped by now..." Next thing I knew, Drew was across the room from me, nurses were scurrying and the doctor was in and was checking me and putting an internal monitor on the baby because they couldn't read her anymore. She wasn't breathing right and no wonder since I was hyperventilating. I received a shot of something to counteract the Demerol and all I could do was try to breathe while staring at Drew across the room trying to send him ESP messages that it was going to be alright.

Finally, they felt comfortable to back away since they found the baby and both she and I were breathing relatively normal. The doctor was still working on the baby and she said I went from a 2 to a 5 in that 4 minutes. Also, my water broke. But I'm assuming to put the internal monitor on the baby had something to do with that...

I am guessing here when I say around 9-10 pm I was contracting every 2-3 minutes, experiencing my newest favorite kind...you know, the ones that are really contractions after your water breaks. Thankfully, they were shorter...more intense by far, but shorter. I do remember I kept asking for the "epidural guy".

He came in like a white knight. I was instructed on how to sit properly and oh yea, while you're having body wracking contractions, don't move, okay? But thanks to the Lord's grace, by which there is no other means, I was able to sit completely still without the help of my husband while Dr Pain-Relief administered my bliss.

Hold on, I have to take a bite of something really quick. Mmm...There's nothing like a healthy slice of humble pie. For months I've been yammering about drug free, no Pitocin-for it is evil, natural, God-created labor. Guess what, drugs are stupendous. I would do it again. There, I said it.

I got what felt like 2 hours of sleep, Praise the Lord. When they woke me to start pushing (how crazy is that!) I felt well rested and ready to greet my daughter. We started by trying a "test push" whatever that is, around 1:30 am. Did anyone else see the 24 hour marker go by?

The doctor felt comfortable for me to start pushing so around 1:50 am I began. And sparing all the gory details, at 3:37 am on June 24th, 2014 Lainie Mae was born!

I'll apologize to her in about 15 years for this one.

She had a terrific cone head. She was stuck behind my pelvis for quite a while, since I couldn't feel much and had no idea how to push correctly. Poor child. But she's beautiful. And I think she looks like her Daddy. 

Well, there you have it. The story. It only took me 2 weeks to get it completely written out, but hey, life is new with a newborn babe. Stay tuned for coming attractions.