John told me that my blog posts are really cheery and that I am not mentioning any of the negatives we are experiencing. The truth is that I do feel cheery even though it is not always easy here. Fiona is my little bundle of joy, more than I ever expected. So this post is all about the not so great stuff.
First, I think I’m training Fiona to only sleep on John or me. Because of her reflux she makes all sorts of noise at night, so I take her out of the room so John can sleep. She has to be held upright, so I hold her in the chair in her room. As soon as I put her down, the noises start again. She sounds like she’s choking or clearing her throat most of the time, sort of like a smoker, but other times she grunts and snores like a trucker. The result is that she spends at least two hours per night sleeping on me and I don’t get to sleep at all, even though she is not actually waking up too much or eating.
In the evenings, she sleeps on John, as is evidenced by all the photos in previous entries. When my mom is here, I hand her Fiona so I can pump, and then she sleeps on her. Everyone likes having Fiona sleep on them and she liked sleeping on people, but it’s not helping her get used to sleeping in her own bed.
Second, lately she’s become the Puke Princess. She was doing well for a while, and also sleeping more soundly, but the last two days have seen us go through too many burp cloths to count. And it doesn’t happen just after she eats; sometimes it’s an hour or two later with no warning. She’s not bothered by it, in fact doesn’t even seem to notice. If I don’t want to wear vomit all day, I have to change my shirt multiple times a day. I have to change her as well. And it’s not always the runny undigested vomit, sometimes it’s the gross, curd-y, been-there-a-while stuff that doesn’t smell so sweet. And she sometimes smooshes her face and hands in it or licks it off the burp cloth before I can clean it up. Gross!
Even as I type, she is wailing away. She has been extremely cranky today, and my mother is trying to get her to burp or fart because she very gassy.
Third, she’s got a Witching Hour or Hours. Every afternoon, starting at approximately 4:30 or 5pm, she starts to get fussy and stays that way until 9 or 10pm, when she lies on John and falls asleep for two or more hours, making her last bottle of the day really late. He in turn goes to sleep later and is more tired in the morning, and the cycle continues. Also, we can’t sit down to dinner together because someone has to hold her or she wants to eat just then. Once in a while she’ll sleep at the time that we are eating, or sit quietly in the one chair she actually likes, but rarely. Today I fed her while the others ate. Then my mom held her and burped her for 10 minutes, then it was back on the boob. No rest for the wicked!
I was given an article from Kellymom.com about evening fussiness and also read The Happiest Baby on the Block by Harvey Karp (thanks for the rec Alex), so I have some tricks to soothe her quickly and don’t take it personally when she fusses. Basically, she needs to be held constantly at those times and fed frequently. I tried wearing her in the Moby and it worked well, but the evenings have been so warm that I am hesitant to do it too much. It gets pretty hot in there. It doesn’t help that she’s grown almost an inch in two weeks, making her hungrier and fussier. Also, because she’s been particularly vomit-y lately, I don’t want her in there hurling all over herself and me. All this adds up to me (or John) not sitting very much in the evenings.
Fourth, I have not cleaned my house in months. We’ve hired Molly Maids several times to clean (thanks Mommy!) but they are not me, and no one will ever clean it exactly the way I do and to my exacting standards. Those that know me well, know what I mean. I am OCD about cleaning my house. Well, all that has flown out the window. Vacuum, what vacuum? My house in not messy because there are always a few minutes here and there to pick up, but the mop and I have become total strangers. If it wasn’t for our dishwasher, we would be eating directly off the table with our fingers.
Fifth, Fiona screams bloody murder when we change her diaper. I’m not sure what traumatic events happened in the NICU, you’d think she was being tortured instead of relieved of her wet and smelly nappy. That’s lots of fun at two in the morning. And she used to be a really good burper but lately, it’s harder and harder to squeeze one out, and most of the time they are followed by emesis (vomit, anyone sense a theme here?).
Sixth, I resent Little Teal Baby. I resent having to ween her from a bottle as though she is a milk-a-holic. I resent having to worry that I’m going to lose the battle for breastfeeding and have to give my daughter formula, thereby missing out on my last chance to have a somewhat normal, unscarred baby experience. It’s such a pain not being able to be away from home for more than a couple of hours because by the time Fiona finishes eating and I pump, it’s time to do it all over again. And timing everything so that I don’t pump right before she needs to eat is also a pain.
Last, I am constantly worried that she is not getting enough to eat, that there is something wrong with my milk, that she’s going to get sick, that something will be wrong with her, that she’ll scratch herself in the eye and get some infection that will leave her blind or disfigured, that a spider will crawl into her bassinet and bite her, that she will over heat or get cold, that I am spoiling her or not giving her enough love and a million other things.
So things are not always so peachy keen and rosy red. Today was really hard. I haven’t slept since about two thirty in the morning (it’s now 9pm) and Fiona was gassy and cranky ALL day. She didn’t sleep at all during the afternoon. She cried and spit up after every feed and sometime more than that, including a vomiting episode while she was eating. She was whiny and then ate for two hours straight. Finally, after she slowed down and spit up yet again, I gave her a bath. She ate a little more and then fell asleep. At last!
But why complain about all of that? It’s all normal baby stuff. When I consider what we went through to bring her home and all the people out there who either can’t have children or had them and lost them, none of the above things can make any real dent in my optimism about Fiona. I’m so thankful to have her at all and to have her at home that I am not terribly surprised or bothered by any of them (except Little Teal Baby, who I’m cutting out of the will). So that is why my posts always seem so cheery. Besides, who wants to hear me complain about all the sleep I’m not getting or how yucky my clothes smell?
Here is a photo of her “holding” her binkie:
She is so darn cute! Even when she fusses.
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