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may I have this dance…

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I hold you close, listening to your breath begin to slow down.  You smell like a sweet mix of baby and lavender; to me this is the best smell in the world.  Slowly we sway back and forth as I cradle you in my arms, resting my head on yours as you snuggle in close. Every night since before you were born we have shared this moment together.  It is just for us, away from the busyness of the day, the tears from earlier, the noise, the phone calls and the TV. This is just our time.

When you were just a small bump in my belly we began our nightly dance together.  As you grew inside me you would wiggle gently as I rocked, dancing your own dance to the rhythm of our heartbeats.  Now as you grow your wiggles have slowed down. As we sway together you snuggled in close, your hand gently reaching up to my face and caresses my cheek, a small smile crossing your sleepy face.

This is the end to our day and a time I always look forward to. This moment together just the two of us; a moment we have shared for as long as we have known each other.

mothers guilt…

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The tickets sit on the table, taunting me, making my stomach turn. I have been excited at the prospect of them for a long time now, but as the time creeps closer I can’t help but feel sick. ‘She’s six months old’ I keep reminding myself. ‘She will be fine’. The words however don’t help to subside this feeling of dread or the tears which begin to appear in my eyes whenever I think of it. Mothers-guilt.

I have spoken about mothers-guilt in previous posts on here. After talking to many new mothers at different parenting groups I came to understand that mother-guilt is something that most, if not all, new mothers feel.

Every decision I make as a new mother is riddled with guilt. Unfortunately, I am naturally a guilt ridden person. I used to say that my internal engine was fueled on guilt. It is a trait I work hard to overcome. With the introduction of Abby into my life this fuel has taken over.

Even before Abby was born I felt this guilt about any decision I made. Once she arrived it only got worse. I felt guilty about having an epidural during the delivery. Guilty about having to use a vacuum to get Abby out. Guilty about missing the outgoing patient group before leaving the hospital. Guilty about taking Tylenol and Motrin to help with the pain from the stitches. All this before I had even left the hospital. Once at home these feelings didn’t change. For the first few days I was surrounded by a support system that encouraged me, telling me I was doing the right thing; squishing the feelings of guilt and insecurity. However, when these supporters returned to their lives the guilt train rolled into the station.

Hormones can be crazy. Post pregnancy hormones even more so. They make me think irrational thoughts, such as I’m a bad mother, I’m a failure, and that I can’t do anything right. I know deep down these thoughts are unfounded, however they are difficult to suppress. To help overcome these feeling of inadequacy I have a small saying or mantra. I look at my daughter and repeat ‘I deserve you. I am a good mother.’ The trick is to really believe it…and it works.

In the six months since Abby came along I have come across new areas of guilt. I should have been teaching her baby sign language earlier, I don’t take her to every play group under the sun, I should read her a new book every day, I shouldn’t ever have the TV on in the house, and I’m doing everything wrong when it comes to solid foods. The list goes on and on. But the solution is the same. Repeat those important words and do my best.

So that bring me back to the tickets on the table. ‘I deserve you’ I tell them quietly, ‘I am a good mother’.

starting solids…

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The calendar is marked. January 21st is circled. Abby is turning 6 months old. Although this should be a time of excitement and joy I can’t help feel nervous and a bit sad. My little baby is no longer little, she is growing up so fast.

As nervous first time parents, my husband and I visit the library and take out every book we can find on starting solids. Of course the information we find only leads to even more confusion…go figure. Should we feed Abby all green veggies then all orange veggies? Or should we start with rice cereal? But wait! Some say that rice cereal is the devil and we should begin with free-range, organic, grain fed chicken eggs or liver. Some books even recommend feeding her exactly what we are eating. The choices were endless and everyone seemed to be an expert. The first foods you feed a baby are so important. This seemed to be the only thing the books agreed on!

After carefully reading as many books as we could we decided that her first food should be chicken and breast milk. As unappetizing as this sounded to me it had all the nutrition she required and had low chances of an allergic reaction.

We decided that we would start her solids on a Saturday morning. It was a few days before her 6 month mark but I really wanted my husband to be a part of this milestone, as it will be one of the only milestones we will have some control over. That morning he went to the store and bought Abby her organic, grain fed, chicken breast (the books scared me about all the additives so I thought we should play it safe for her first time. Thanks ‘mom-guilt’). I boiled it up in a frying pan, as it is recommended that poached is best. Then I puréed it with some breast milk. It looked like old fashioned paste, the kind that was used in schools, very unappetizing. We sat down together at the dinning room table, my husband and I with our breakfast and Abby with hers.

Like tourists at a national monument we had cameras at the ready. My husband carefully put a small amount on her spoon and brought it too her mouth. She opened wide as always, expecting an empty spoon. The look of shock and surprise on her face when she discovered that there was food was priceless. We allowed her to take the spoon and try and feed herself. With chicken covering her face and arms she banged the spoon on her tray and smiled. Chicken and breast milk was a success!

I am now infused with a sense of excitement. I can’t wait to try new foods with her and enjoy her reaction to new tastes that I have become accustom too. Time to let the culinary adventure begin!

splish splash…

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Bath time has always been a fun time for Abby. She takes such joy in kicking and splashing in the water. During our first few days at home I would pull out her small bathtub and set it up with water in our bedroom. The morning sunlight would shine through the three large windows filling the room with a warm glow. I would scoop up water with Abby’s favorite bath toy, her orange whale. This toy looks like a small cup shaped like a whale with perforated holes in the bottom allowing water to trickle out like a shower. As I lifted the whale high up above Abby’s chest she would giggles watching the water splashed down onto her skin, reaching out to grab at it with her fingers.

Soon these giggles turned into vigorous wiggles and in order to save our carpet we needed to move bath time into the bathroom. Saying goodbye to ‘sun-baths’ and hello to ‘splash-baths’. We placed her small bathtub inside our own tub, giving Abby the opportunity to exercise her legs. And exercise she did! She kicked the water until it would splash all over the floor. Rubber ducks were now a staple bath time friend. Abby would squeal with joy as her duck would come floating closer to her, splashing her hands trying to coax the duck to hurry over.

Soon the small bathtub was too small. It was time for Abby to move to the big tub. In order to bathe in the large tub Abby required a bath partner. My husband quickly volunteered for the job. This soon became their Daddy-daughter time. Every day or two my husband would run a warm bath and the two would get in and splash. It is a wonderful thing to sit downstairs taking a few moments to myself listening to my husband singing ‘baby beluga’ upstairs in the bathtub. Quickly this became a highlight for Abby. I could see her face light up when she would notice her Daddy in the tub. She waves her hands up and down with joy as I hand her over to my husband for some bath time fun!

I work hard at remembering these moments don’t last forever and before we know it Daddy-daughter bath time will be over. At least we will have some photos to remind and embarrass her when she gets older!

diaper time…

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bumgeniousBefore Abby was born my husband and I both decided that we wanted to try using cloth diapers for her.  Both of our parents had each used cloth diapers in the passed and I really liked the idea that she could use them for her whole diaper journey.  The fact that we would be saving a large sum of money and that it was an earth conscious choice also helped seal the deal.  I had heard horror stories about how they leak, that they were tricky to use and that they smell terrible.  I began to look into them in greater detail.  Most of the stories of smell and leaking were user issues or the old cloth diapers.  The new cloth diapers look and work the same as the disposable ones.  It took us a great deal of research before we settled on a brand.  Thanks to my sister-in-law who is also using cloth we were able to use her experience without having to go through any ‘blow-outs’ or other issues. We settled on the Bumgenious 4.0.

Although these diapers were some of the more expensive ones that we found, they seemed to have the best reputation and quality.  We ordered fourteen in a bright mix of different colours.  They seemed easy to put together.  We just needed to slide the liner into the pocket part of the diaper and voila! Abby seems to like them as well.  They must be more comfortable than the disposable cloth ones, the material that touches her skin is very soft.  We decided to still use the disposable diapers at night as Abby is a heavy ‘pee-er’ and often soaks through the disposables ones overnight.

Our fingers are crossed that this journey continues as smoothly (and cleanly) as it began!

to sleep perchance to dream…

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“How are you sleeping?” This must be the number one question asked to any first time new mom. Whenever people would see me and meet Abigail they would want to know about her sleep habits (or mine). For the first few months of life I could truthfully answer that we were both doing great. I was sleeping, quite well in fact. Often it felt more than when I was pregnant, as I woke up to go to the bathroom or with a bleeding nose almost nightly. Strangely enough this was not what people wanted to hear. Most people were interested in late night horror stories of screaming babies and desperate mothers. When all I could offer them was a good sleeper who woke to feed then back to bed they had a look of disappointment on their faces.  I tried to ignore it and take some pride in our sleeping accomplishments.  This however proved to be difficult.

All new mothers can attest too people love to give advice.  Although this advice is meant to be helpful it can often lead to feelings of frustration and inadequacy.  I was told on multiple occasions that I should not be nursing Abby to sleep at night.  I was ‘creating poor sleep habits’.  I brushed these thoughts aside as both Abby and I greatly enjoyed our evening feeds, I found them relaxing and it helped me to unwind at the end of the day.  We continued with our routine of nursing to sleep and for the first few months it seemed to work well.  Then the day arrived when it stopped working all together.

As Abby grew her sleep patterns drastically changed. She began to go through numerous, and sometimes what seemed like never ending, growth spurts. This began the end of our sleep honeymoon. Abby was now waking up every two hours and would on occasion take another two to three hours to go back to sleep.  She was hungry all the time and my milk struggled to keep up with her growing demand.

During these long nights I would often think about my choice to keep nursing Abby to sleep and whether or not I had helped to create ‘poor sleeping habits’. For reassurance I reached out to a trusted source of help, my mom. She gave me what I consider the best advice for any new mother…do what you think is best for your family, you know your baby better than anyone else.

As I write this I am sitting quietly in the rocking chair in Abby’s nursery. She is curled up in my arms drinking with a small smile. Although it’s 2:34 am and I have only slept for an about an hour tonight, I repeat my moms words in my head. I’m doing what I think is best for my family and what’s best for my baby.

feeding frustrations…

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When I found out I was going to be a mother there was only one thing that I knew for sure, I wanted to breastfeed. Breastfeeding was very important to me for many different reasons. Not only is it the best nutrition I could give my baby but, I was also excited about the bonding and connection we would share together. With my mother being a labour and delivery nurse and a midwife in the UK I knew about the importance of breastfeeding. However, I (like many first time moms) was oblivious to the many difficulties that often surround new mothers in this journey.

The delivery was a blur. Hours of pushing had reduced my mind to mush and made me forget all the plans we had for Abbys arrival. Once she joined us all I wanted to do was hold her, snuggling her in close to my chest. To my amazement she began to move towards my breast. Like a baby sea turtle moving blindly towards the ocean she seemed to sense where she needed to be. Her poor swollen face found my nipple and she quickly latched on and began to feed. I was flooded with pride. We had done it! The nurses all smiled and acknowledged that she was a ‘great little feeder’. This pattern continued for the duration of our hospital stay. Once at home surrounded by my support team, made up of my mom, sister and husband, the breastfeeding continued to be successful. Sadly three days into our first week at home my sister and mom had to return to their home three hours away and my husband back to work. It was now just the two of us.

Although I felt nervous I also felt I was ready, we were ready to begin this adventure together. The first day was great, Abby fed with ease and we began to settle into a routine together. This didn’t last long. It began with pain. A great deal of pain every time she would latch on. The pain began to become unbearable. I would wince and tear up, clenching my fists and biting my lip with each feed. Soon I was dreading when Abby would need to eat. But I kept with it, assuming that it was me, something I was doing wrong.

Unfortunately it only got worse. At our first doctors appointment the scary news, she had lost weight, lots of weight. She was down from 8 lb at birth to 6.7 lb. Something was wrong. Check her diapers and keep feeding I was told. We went home and tried again. It was my husband who finally threw in the towel. He came down in the evening on our fifth day to me crying. Within ten minutes we were in the car on the way to the hospital. I was defeated, drained of all energy and broken.

The first doctor we spoke to in the Emergency Room tried to steer us towards formula.  Thank goodness my husband stood strong, explaining to the doctor that we were hoping to continue to breastfeed and that there must be something he could do.  After several attempts to convince us that formula was the way to go the doctor fetched a lactation consultant from the Labour and Delivery department.  She was like an angel.  Within minutes of her arrival she had calmed all my fears and anxiety making me feel as though we had done everything right.  Her gentle hands quickly and with ease latched Abby to my breast and she drank.

This was not the first nor the last time that I struggled with breastfeeding.  However with help from breastfeeding groups and wonderful lactation nurses Abby is now a cubby happy baby.  I only wish that I could travel back in time and tell myself that it would get better and to just stay strong.  The joy of hindsight!