Hungry Monkey

Sprout had a bit of a catch-up growth spurt this past weekend: Thursday he weighed 8 pounds 0.5 ounces, today he was 8 pounds 8.5 ounces. So now he's gained 18.5 ounces since we left the hospital 19 days ago. Whew.

I think he's getting tired of wearing the same newborn sleepers day in & day out. He wants to grow into all the 3-month-sized onesies & outfits he's gotten as gifts.

I'm still working on latch issues, sucking back herbal tinctures & lactation tea like there's no tomorrow & pumping after feedings, but I feel a little more positive about it all today. Seeing the midwife & getting reassurance that Linnaeus is healthy & fattening up helped. I also got a prescription for Domperidone, which I am hoping will be a magic bullet for my supply issues... Keep your fingers crossed for me.

A conspiracy?

The first rule of Parenthood is: you do not talk about how difficult it is. The second rule of Parenthood is: you do not talk about how difficult it is.

I think it's a bit of a conspiracy that parents never really admit how difficult raising a child is, particularly the first few weeks & months. I can think of a few reasons for this:

1. Rather than a duty or social obligation, having children in our culture is more or less seen as a personal choice, so the attitude seems to be: "Well, you've made your bed, now lie in it!".
2. Admitting that it's the hardest thing in the world & we made a bunch of stupid mistakes along the way is a bit humiliating.
3. We think we're supposed to just do all this naturally & don't want to admit to others that we don't know what we're doing, or how steep the learning curve really is. Nobody wants to admit that they wanted to toss their baby out the window.
4. We do some parenthood math: balancing out the joys with the stress, anxiety & sleep-deprivation, the bottom line being net positive.
5. Post-partum depression is a mental illness & our society still doesn't accept mental illness as valid or guilt-free in the way that something like cancer is accepted, so few women talk about it.
6. If we were honest about it & the childless actually believed us when we told them what it was like, they would never have kids.

 What do you think? For those of you who haven't got children, have you ever had a really frank conversation with a parent about how hard it was? For the parents out there reading this, do you tell people honestly what the really hard stuff it is/was like?

8 pounds 0.5 ounces

So as of today at the midwife's office, Linnaeus has regained his birth weight. With all this supplementing & pumping, he gained 4.5 ounces in just under three days. Until our next midwife appointment on Monday, I need to continue the hectic schedule of:

1. change diaper to wake him up, 
2. get donor milk ready & warm, 
3. breastfeed til he slows down, 
4. insert lactation aid tube & fiddle with it til it's working, 
5. offer the rest by bottle if necessary,
6. pump 20 mins, 
7. clean everything, 
8. sleep. 

 Somewhere in there I need to eat, take my supplements & tea... wish me luck.

Adjusting, pumping, supplementing

The past two weeks have been a process of coming to accept that my life is now totally run by this little boy, after so many years of more or less doing what I choose. I think this process is going to take a long time, over the next few years, as I get used to being a Mama.

Last week we were still running on a bit of a high & just wanted to go out & do things to enjoy our summer. We had our first outing on the bus, brought Linnaeus to the PNE for my birthday, took a few walks, started using the wrap carrier & sling I made, had lots of visitors, went out to a restaurant. I was thinking about visiting Linnaeus' great-grandparents & imagining travelling to Europe with him in the spring or summer.

Monday this week, the midwife came over for our one-week visit. She weighed the baby, but little Sprout had only gained an ounce in his second week. He'd gained well in his first week, so I was a bit blindsided by the slowdown & very distressed about it. The stress has affected my sleep & appetite, which probably hasn't helped my milk supply.

I cancelled nearly everything so I could stay home & deal with the breastfeeding issues I'm having. Oliver has been sent out at least once daily on a three-day scavenger hunt to buy a breast pump, herbs & tea, formula, bottle nipples, donor milk from the milk bank.

It's been one of the more stressful weeks of my life, as I'm worried that things might not improve. I really want breastfeeding to work. I've been taking herbal tincture with Fenugreek & Blessed Thistle to increase my supply, hopefully. I'm also drinking Mother's Milk Tea--another combination of herbs to help stimulate more milk production. I pump after every feeding & then feed the milk to the baby through a lactation aid as I'm feeding him at the next feeding. My midwife also suggested 'topping him up' with either donor milk from the Breast Milk Bank at BC Women's or formula.

Later this morning we bring him to the midwife's office to weigh him again. I'll try to find some time to update the blog with the results of this week's efforts to fatten up Sprout.

I hope in a few weeks I will be happily breastfeeding without tubes, bottles & donor milk & I can look back at this one & wish I hadn't gotten so stressed out over everything... I'm very grateful for all the support I've had so far: My family has been wonderful & Oliver is really trying hard to take care of me & Sprout. My midwives & doula have been helpful & in touch daily this week. My friends are also great for encouragement & empathy. So whatever happens, I'm doing my best & so is everyone around me.

Some firsts...

First visit with Oma & Opa today. They drove up from the Okanagan to see him--Linnaeus is their first grandchild!

First lunch out at a restaurant. Although little L didn't actually eat at all--he just slept through the whole thing. We walked over to The Windjammer on Main Street. I had two massive pieces of halibut & chips, glorying in the fact that I got to eat with both hands while my food was still hot.

First playdate set up this Friday with Dex & Aiden. I know, they're waaay too young to actually play together. Linnaeus can't see clearly past his toes & is still learning crucial things like how to move his arms on purpose, for example. But we're still calling it a playdate.

Baby: 5, Parents: 0

I've got three words for you: fountain of pee. I've been told by parents of baby boys that this occasionally happens, due to the sudden temperature change upon removing his diaper. We managed to trigger it not once, but five times in the past 24 hours. Twice was during the same diaper change! Doesn't exactly count as occasional, hey? Both Papa & I came out of it unscathed, which is more than I can say for Baby, change pad, dresser, fan & floor.

I know it's wise to toss a cloth over the potential geyser, or even one of those gimmicky peepee teepees, but this little baby is a champion kicker (I see soccer in his future) & it's a bit of a wrestling match already just to change him, let alone keep a cloth casually draped over any of him. Perhaps swathing the room in plastic drop cloths, then diaper changer & diaper changee wearing swim goggles might work?

Announcing...

How did the birth go?

I get asked this a lot, especially by my pregnant friends. So here's the story for you all to read...

Around 2am on Tuesday, August 10th, I woke up to contractions. Took me a few minutes to realize that they were not Braxton-Hicks, that this was it: labour. I finally woke Oliver up around 3am--he assumed I was in very early labour & tried to get me to go back to sleep, thinking we should rest for the long day ahead of us. I absolutely could not sleep or rest at that point, so I paged my midwife, Laura. She talked to me through a contraction or two & suggested a shower, which would slow my contractions down if it was just pre-labour. The hot water was soothing, but after four contractions in there, I realized things were not going to slow down.

I needed to start timing the contractions but I'd actually had trouble doing that before I spoke to Laura because I was expecting my belly to feel tight & then relax in between them. I didn't know when to start & stop the online timer. It felt hard all the time, the only change was the pain of each one. 

After about two more hours of pacing the house, sitting, standing, kneeling & timing contractions, they were around three to four minutes apart & mostly a minute long (the magical 4-1-1 rule) so I called our doula, Becka, who headed over to our house, & then the midwife again. Becka helped me keep breathing deeply through the contractions, provided massage, physical support & encouragement. I think she also spoke to the midwife on the phone about how I was doing. (A lot of details like that are difficult for me to remember because I was really starting to become focused inward, less & less aware of what was going on around me.)

We agreed to meet Laura at BC Women's. Oliver got our things ready, fed the cat & picked up a Co-op car to drive us to the hospital. I think he thought we still had a lot of time at this point, but as I was standing outside waiting for Oliver to lock up the house & unlock the car, I started getting the urge to push. I wondered if any of the neighbours heard me moaning outside--it was around 7am. Between intense contractions, I got into the back seat with Becka & Oliver drove us carefully to BC Women's. I remember thinking that the trip to the hospital often slows labour down a bit, so I stopped worrying I'd have the baby in the car & was able to relax (as much as you can when the strongest muscle in your body is squeezing for all it's worth every minute or two).

We got to the hospital around 7:30 & made our way in, pausing a few times for contractions between the car & the entry way. By this point I was getting pretty loud, 'moaning & toning' as our prenatal class instructor Aleks would say. I scribbled an approximation of my signature on a form & got my bracelets, then was whisked into the assessment area where my water broke, finally. The midwife checked to see how dilated I was. As she felt for my cervix she said, "Oh, hello, baby! Lisa, you're 10 centimetres!" The urge to push that I'd been trying to ignore on the way to the hospital was overwhelming. I was moved into a delivery room nearby on the main floor, rather than in Cedar, the 'fancy' ward upstairs because things were so advanced.

The next two hours are hazy, almost as if I had my eyes closed the entire time, though I know I didn't. I tried various positions--nothing was comfortable--but after trying sitting, squatting, kneeling, side-lying, standing & leaning on Oliver, Becka or the bed felt best. I know there were three different nurses with us at various times, but I doubt I could pick them out of a lineup now. I was totally focused on each contraction, visualizing how my body was opening up & how my baby moved as I pushed. Laura & the nurse spent a lot of that time crouched on the floor behind & below me, monitoring the baby's heartbeat intermittently, applying hot compresses, reassuring me that I was doing well & I was safe.

Just before 10am, I finally gave one last huge push, only realizing that his head was out when I felt my son's little body make a quarter turn inside me & then slide out. He let out a cry immediately & Laura passed him up between my legs & helped me get up onto the bed. I can't possibly describe the joy that I know Oliver & I both felt at that moment. Oliver even got over his aversion to all things blood-vessel-related & cut the umbilical cord himself.

The rest of the story is a bit less blurry in my memory, but I was so distracted by the fact that I was now holding my squirmy little Sprout in my arms, looking into his eyes, watching with amazement as he nuzzled around & started breastfeeding with surprisingly little help.

Delivering the placenta was a breeze, likely because I'd decided to go with an oxytocin shot in the leg when the baby crowned (didn't even feel the jab). Even getting a few stitches & learning that I had a second-degree tear couldn't distract me from the incredible high that I was on.

Sprout received his bracelets & then we were wheeled upstairs to a room in Dogwood, where the three of us stayed the night. We could have gone home that afternoon, but decided we might as well take advantage of the helpful staff, healthy meals & other services at BC Women's.

I had hoped to try a water birth, but I feel truly blessed that I had a quick labour & that I was able to manage the pain without any drugs at all. Throughout the entire eight hours I felt safe & supported by my midwife, doula, nurses & of course, Oliver. I have heard many 'horror stories' of birth: stressful, frightening, disappointing, alienating & even tragic experiences that left the mother scarred. I really want to put my story out there, particularly to mothers-to-be, as a counterpoint.

Eat, sleep, poop.

I've never had more conversations about peeing & pooing than I have in the past four days. At the hospital, every time a nurse or midwife came into my room, I was asked if I'd peed recently or pooped yet. They would also ask about Sprout's wet or dirty diapers & inspect the log I was instructed to keep, tracking when & how long he fed for as well as details on what came out the other end.

Since I've gotten home from the hospital, the obsession with Sprout's pee & poo has continued. We are still logging the contents of each diaper (so we know how well he's feeding) to report it to the midwife. I felt an upswelling of pride as he has progressed from each stage to the next with rainbow-hued dirty diapers. For those of you who are unacquainted with newborns, we've so far seen black-brown, dark olive green, greenish-gold, yellow, reddish-orange--all of which are normal, amazingly. It's not just the colours, it's also the quantity that I feel proud of. Each day when he's reached or surpassed his 'quota' of wet or dirty diapers, I am sure I have a gifted child already.

Any day now

Okay, yesterday I officially hit the point where I am tired of being pregnant. I have actually enjoyed a lot of it for the last 39 weeks, but now I'm done. I'm tired of hauling the extra 34 pounds around on sore feet & hips. I can't wait until I can roll over in bed without feeling like I've got a sack of flour tied to my belly. I want to go more than an hour without having to pee.

I'm doing a few things to hasten this baby's arrival: taking evening primrose oil, drinking red raspberry leaf tea, trying to walk as much as I have the energy for & the old classic, (as Aleks, our prenatal class teacher says) "You loved this baby in there, now you gotta love him out".

I'm also starting to worry about going overdue far enough that I'll be induced. I really don't want the crazy super-contractions that come with a pitocin drip, or the potential for a cascade of interventions that might end up coming along with it. I'm trying to decide if I want the midwife to sweep my membranes at my next appointment on Wednesday. That might hurry this baby up a little, if my body's ready for it. However, after reading way too many postings in online message boards about women's experiences with having a membrane sweep, I'm more confused than ever. I'm kind of hoping that Sprout will just come this week so I don't even have to decide...

One week to go... or so...

Sprout continues his descent, but he also keeps growing upward as well, so I don't really feel like I've got a lot more room for my stomach & lungs. I don't have trouble eating a good big meal though. I haven't really at any time during my third trimester, which is the opposite of what I've heard from other people. I'm still pretty mobile too: I managed to waddle up to the midwife's office & back today in the midday heat. It actually takes me half again as long to get there as it did six months ago!

Nearly everything is ready for Sprout's arrival. Two more things to go: we need to put up the new light fixture in his room & pick up the Newborn Diaper Rental Kit on August 12th. So as long as I'm not in labour or at the hospital that day, no problem. Anybody out there interested in picking it up in North Van if I am? (Sorted it out!)

What's in a name?

One thing I've struggled with for ages is choosing a name for Sprout. It's such a momentous task, really. I mean, most of us probably don't give a whole lot of thought to our name on a daily basis once we're adults unless we really hate it. However, it's a huge part of our identity because it's the first thing most people learn about us. Sometimes it's the only thing. People make assumptions based on our names. They usually connect us to a culture, an ethnicity, the era when we were given the name.

There's just so much meaning embedded in every moniker too. If you have a name that is also that of a celebrity, you're connected to them somehow, whether your parents named you after them intentionally or not. If your name is unusual, other people may never be able to spell/pronounce/remember it correctly.

When Oliver & I have been searching for names for Sprout, we've agreed that we want his name to reflect our heritage. I don't want to pick a random name that I like the sound of from a country I've never been to. I have to go back a few generations to find anything other than 'Canadian Mutt' but when I do I find: English, Welsh, Quebecois, Belgian, Swedish. Oli's easier, being first-generation Canadian--his background is pretty much just German, though some of his family is from the part which has at some times in history been Poland.

Far from a traditional European name though, we want Sprout's handle to be original, not one that will always require his last initial attached to it, i.e. Mike A., Mike B., Mike C. (Sorry Mikes, but there are a lot of you out there!) Unique, but not too weird...

Here is a list of some of the names we've looked at, with information on origins & meaning, plus some comments of my own:

(Disclaimer: we have agreed on few of these & have each vetoed some already)

• Bastien (I prefer the french spelling)
• short form of Sebastian, of Greek origin, meaning "revered". The original form of this name referred to those from a particular city or region of Asia minor, whose Greek name was from the Latin imperial title "Augustus". Saint Sebastian, probably a native of that place, was a third-century martyred centurion who became patron saint of soldiers. Shakespeare gave the name to the twin brother of Viola in "Twelfth Night". British use since the 1940s may have been influenced by a character in Evelyn Waugh's popular "Brideshead Revisited". Sebastien is popular in France.
• Byron (as a middle name perhaps)
• of Old English origin, meaning "at the byres or barn". Place name & surname often used as a given name. Lord Byron in the 1850s was a poet famous for his wildness and debauchery. Literary: the variant form Biron was the name of a character in Shakespeare's "Love's Labours Lost".
• Falco (also "Falcon", the name of "Balloon Boy")
• of Latin origin. A surname having to do with falconry. Who could forget the famous Austrian 80s glam-pop artist, Falco? "Rock me Amadeus!"Falke is a German form.
• Haldor
• from the Old Norse name Hallþórr, which meant "Thor's rock". Hallr "rock", combined with the name of the Norse god Þórr (Thor). Also a character (?) in World of Warcraft: "Haldor the Compulsive". A very manly name. Maybe too manly.
• Joachim (German pronunciation: yo-AH-km)
• of Hebrew origin, meaning "established by God". Short form of the Hebrew name Jehoichin. Joaquin Miller was a noted & colorful 19th-century poet-adventurer of the American West. According to medieval Catholic tradition, Joachim was the name of the Virgin Mary's father. Composer Josquin Des Pres; actor Joaquin Phoenix. Not sure anyone would ever pronounce it the way we would. Also a bit too religious for my tastes.
• Kiefer
• of German origin, meaning "barrel maker". Variant of Cooper. "Kiefer" also means pine tree in German. The ever-scrappy actor Kiefer Sutherland; painter Anselm Kiefer.
• Linnaeus (lih-NAY-us)
  
• The latinized surname of Karl Von Linne, the Swedish biologist who developed our current system of taxonomy
• Lyndon
• of Old English origin, meaning "linden tree hill". Often a surname. American President Lyndon Baines Johnson, Canadian journalist Linden MacIntyre. But not because of Trevor Linden.
• Maximilian
• of Latin origin, meaning "greatest". The name of three Roman emperors & various saints. Popular in Germany. Actor Maximilian Schell. Interestingly enough, there are tons of variants on this name: Mac, Mack, Maks, Maksim, Maksym, Maksymilian, Massimiliano, Massimo, Max, Maxey, Maxemilian, Maxemilion, Maxie, Maxim, Maxime, Maximilian, Maximiliano, Maximilianus, Maximilien, Maximillian, Maximino, Maximo, Maximos, Maxy, Maxymilian & Maxymillian.
• Oren
• of Hebrew, Irish and Gaelic origin, meaning "ash or pine tree; fair, pale". Was somewhat popular in the US about a hundred years ago. Also spelled "Orin", which happens to be one of my favourite varieties of apple.
• Stirling
• a variant of Sterling (English), meaning "genuine, of high quality". Also sounds a bit like the annoying, raspy little starling, an invasive species brought from England.

Getting the last few things done

I'm starting to feel actually ready for this baby's arrival. I've almost finished organizing, installing, decorating & rearranging furniture for Sprout's room. My hospital bag is packed enough--theoretically, unless I have a ridiculous light-speed labour I'll have time to put in one or two more things. The freezer is up on the deck, plugged in & ready for the easy frozen meals we hope to fill it with (got muffins & chili in there already--thanks Steve, Mom & Dad!).

UPDATE: Thank you to Klahanie & James, Jeremy & Faith, Ian & Shelley, Jane & Adam, Katherine & Darryl, Heather, David, Bryan for all the food you brought us! I'm not even sure what some of it is, but I know we'll be extremely happy to have it ready & waiting in our freezer when we are sleep deprived parents of a newborn.

There is some housework I've been putting off (I know you're all so surprised to hear that) yet to do & I'd love to frame & hang some more of our posters from our European trip last fall. Still haven't put the 'headboard' & bedside shelves up in our room yet. Plus there are a few sewing projects for Sprout yet to do: some really cute booties & a hat, another change pad cover, maybe some simple stuffies, a stroller handle console, maybe some clothes... I made a couple of tanks into nursing tops recently but I'd like to make some more nursing shirts/dresses if I have time. Seems like it would be worth putting some time into those, as I plan to breastfeed for at least a couple of years.