a man of many names

It seems that we are a family who uses nicknames. From " Millie Vanilli" to Hipster.. and now we are adding in a few more just for fun. It is ohh so easy to play with a name like Angus. Parker's friends at work call him " T-Bone." Another friend said that he loves the name Angus.. because it's a good "Beefy" name. ( I cracked up at that one) At dinner I call him " Aspara-Gus." ( this is also what he will be for Halloween this year.) Everytime he gets weighed at the pediatrician's, I call him " Humun-Gus." Now other nicknames are developing per his personality. For instance: since he has massive reflux and barfs constantly, when he spits up on me I call him " Wyatt Urp." When he is on his favorite pillow in our bathroom kickin' it old school, we refer to him as " Sir Kicks a Lot." My favorite ( which I lovingly borrow from Jenny) when he is gassy " Gaseous Clay."When Gus is angry he is called : " Grumpy Gus." Given that Gus is a Parker... he has a tendancy to whine a little.. when this happens I call him " Squeaks." As for now.. as his lays wiggling in the sling on my chest.. I'll call him , " Hungry." Gotta go.

Ba Ba

Welp, we did it. Gus drank from his first bottle. Okay, it was his third bottle, counting the 2 other ones he had when he was in hospital as jaundice as a baby pumpkin. I blocked those out entirely. Gus latched onto the bottle last night as if he were always bottlefed. He sucked down 3 oz in 2 minutes flat... and I ended up nursing him for 20 minutes on each side right afterward. I'm not sure I got any R&R. I thought maybe giving him a bottle would be HELPFUL. Nope, it was more work than just nursing him. I am glad Parker got to help out though. I know he enjoyed those 2 minutes of unadulterated contact very much. Hey Parker,next time, how 'bout ya change his diaper, put on his pjs and THEN give him the bottle... so you can get the entire effect, will ya? ( wink) Baby steps, I s'poze. All in all I am glad we gave him the bottle. Now we know that if there is an emergency and I can't nurse him, he will do just fine. I am finding it very hard to believe that almost 7 weeks has passed. I can remember being checked into the hospital all pregnant and swollen and scared. I never knew how hard it would be to look back on those days. It's funny how I miss them, eventhough they were hard. Gus seems so big to me now. He is smiling when I kiss his face, and cooing at me when I talk to him. He eats with a vengence and when he sleeps, he looks so peaceful and right. Gus does what Gus wants. Isn't that how it should be? Shouldn't we all be as lucky as babies? I am so proud of my babies for all that they have done and are doing. ( Millie has figured out all of her green sounds in her moveable alphabet, and mastered the binomial cube. ( Montessori speak...and something a mommy should be very proud of) & Holden is sounding out words on sight. It gives me chills to think about all that they have accomplished. )We are so lucky. I am looking forward to days where we sit at the dinner table as a big family and laugh and cry together. For now, I'm gonna go watch my baby boy sleep. I won't get today back, I better enjoy it while I can.

huh? I can't hear you...

I have a baby screaming in my ear! So it seems that my Gentle Gus... has turned a corner into what my sister calls the "crying peak." I guess he's allowed to air his grievences... but does he have to do so with such "GUSto?" ( thanks for that one Cara) The poor wee man is hoarse from screaming his lil' head off. I remember the days of quiet drunk baby milk smiles, and cooing at the ceiling. Now it's WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH BAAA ( deep breath) BAAAAAAAA.. WAHHHHHH ( pant pant pant) (deep breath.. sigh) & that's just what I'm saying! ( okay I'm only saying that sometimes) I have 3 theories on this development: 1) Gus hates to have a dirty or wet diaper. He squeals the second he does either. 2) He's going through a massive growth spurt. 3) I ate onions for the first time since he was born. I forgot all about how gassy onions can make ya. I'm sure the pepperoni I ate on Saturday didn't help either. Note to self: you're not just eating for you these days... be nice to the baby's digestive track. The only thing that makes Gus settle down is : nursing. Hence I have a catfish suckled to my chest pretty much all frikkin' day long. ( remember before Gus was born .. I had nightmares about me delivering a baby that looked like a catfish.. well, it must have been a sign) It's fine... but can a girl get a break? I didn't get into the fact that I had a little trouble with my nip last week. Seems that when Gus was learning that tricky latch back when he was first born.. a small tear developed along the ol' nip. Well, time and diabetes don't help this kind of wound.. so I had to go see Dr. R. ( per advice of my Lactation consultant) I was so embarassed! I had to actually show Dr R my BOOB! He said he could handle it. :) I told him that he HAD to erase the image from his brains forever. He laughed. He's so patient with me. For now I have to wear this nip shield. ( to keep the good girl dry) Very attractive lemme tell ya. The other thing we have decided to do is give Gus one bottle a day. Parker has mentioned that he feels a little left out when it comes to Gus. I understand.. adn frankly I could use a little R&R in the evenings. As much as it pains me to do it ( because I love to watch Gus nurse) I can part with his little mouth so the dad can have some fun too. I mean I feed him 12-13 times a day these days.. I can break away just once a day, right? Someone tell me this is okay!( the PPD makes my guilt o'meter go berzerker!) Okay.. I am off to actually get something accomplished today. Today's goal: write 3 thank you notes and address them. I'm 6 weeks behind.. and I have about 50 to write. Here's my first attempt at following through on my new year's resolution. Let's see how it goes.

Who's down with PPD??? Yeah~ you know me

Welp... I think it happened. The uncontrollable crying... excessive worry... fear... and laughter.. inability to eat... all rolled up into one. I am either in the beginning of PPD or I am certifiably nuts. Today is looking a little better than yesterday... but it's only 8:30 am anything could happen. I don't want to come off as someone who is complaining about life with a newborn... or being overwhelmed by my growing number of responsibilities. It's a little bit more than that. As I have been bawling my eyes out riddled with fear and loathing... there is no real reason for me to be sad. The weird thing is: As I am crying.. I am thinking about how lucky I am... how much I love my baby, my kids... my husband... the fact that I have seemingly everything I have ever wanted... especially the fact that my dream of carrying a baby came true... but yet: waterworks. I wasn't going to write about this. I was going to keep it to myself. I mean why would I want my family and friends... and those lurkers to know this utterly personal situation I am in right now? Why would I want to let on that not all is well in my world? But I gotta tell ya, I just feel that honesty is the best policy... and I know I'm not the only one out there struggling with this. This is part of the " dream come true " package I WANTED. I WANTED to be pregnant... and such is life post pregnancy I s'poze. Some of us get this... some of us don't. I will tell you : my dreams of having 4 kids are not quite as strong these days. Let's see how I feel in 4 years or so. :) Maybe I'll forget... maybe I won't. Only time will tell. As for now I will push on through each day knowing that I'm not really insane... that it is hornmones making me crazy... and hopefully I will be able to kick this PPD in the ass and stop all this crying about nothing... sooner rather than later. If anyone has any pointers out there. Please don't keep them to yourself. Help a hormonal girl out!

That's a 10-4 good buddy

10 pounds 4 ounces to be exact. Yepper our "Wee Angus" has morphed into " Humun-Gus." It's no wonder, that kid is on the boob almost every 2 hours. I'm glad it's paying off.. I'm feeling a little like a "noonie" these days. Which segways me right into: noonie or not to noonie?This child obviously needs to suck on something. I'm guessing it's going to be his thumb ( he keeps trying to get his thumb in his mouth, but really only succeeds in punching himself in the eye over and over again... and getting more frustrated) I can't be sure if Gus really needs to eat every hour and a half.. or if I am fulfilling his needs to suck to soothe himself. Now, I'm not opposed to this, don't get me wrong. The idea of pacifying him with a rubber nipple makes me a little squeamish. Remember that it took me 2 years to help MS & HIP kick their habit. Yet: when I idealized the fact that I would be Gus' natural pacifier... I forgot to factor in those hours between dinner and bedtime that are ever so important to MS & HIP. Those hours (shut up.. it takes us a few hours to get MS & HIP all settled down to sleep at night. Hey, it's fun having a twin to tear it up and play until you literally fall asleep) have been the hours of attention they have always gotten that I believe actually meant something to each of them. They get to pick their own stories... not share which bed they sleep in and snuggle the mama. I value that time as wwell obviously. Now they have a baby brother who seems to want to play " howler monkey" from about 7- 11pm. Don't go thinkin' that Gus is screaming constantly for 4 hours... it's just that that's when he awake.. and he seems to fuss when I try to get everything all quiet. It really isn't helping the nighttime routine. I know that I will get better at the nursing and scheduling, but it has been noticeably hard on the 2 older peeps. Our pediatrian is "pro- pacifier." He says that thumb sucking is so hard to break. I'm gonna have to agree with him there. Once MS & HIP decided that they were ready to give up their noonies, they did it, and they never looked back. I will shamelessly admit that I have indeed put a noonie is Gus' mouth, but only when he was content. I haven't popped the ol' rubber neeple ( a la Ren and Stimpy) in there when he's screaming. Here's what I have noticed: he doesn't really like the noonie... but sucks on it nevertheless. He LOVES his thumb.. but it takes a half an hour to get his hand relaxed enough to actually get his thumb in there... which makes him MAD. His soothing technique of choice: my boob. This is fine during the day.. but I'm starting to wonder if I'm establishing a bad habit here. I feel awful for Millie and Holden. Millie said to me the other night, " Mom, if you finish feeding Gus soon, can you come back and snuggle us?" ( as she sat in her little bed with the light of the nightlight lighting up her long hair.) My heart broke, because I knew there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to be back when they were still awake. Sigh. I am in quite a pickle here. Does anyone have any suggestions?

Flyin' Solo

Today was THE day. The day I do this mother of 3 thing without any help. I was awakened by the most effective alarm clock known to man: a whiney baby. Time check~ 5:45 am. Good. I changed Angus' diaper and fed him. He ate for about 30 minutes. Perfect. I hopped in the shower. All clean. Angus laid on a pillow on the floor of the bathroom swatting at who knows what and kicking his feet furiously while I dried off and got ready for the day. Gus must have noticed that I was getting comfortable, so he started to cry. Knowing I had plenty of time, I popped him back on the boob and enjoyed watching him drink with his eyes fixated on mine. He ate for another 20 minutes. Okay still good... I had plenty of time. I have to leave the house w/ 3 kids who have been changed and fed on all different levels by 8:45 to make "carpool" at the kids' school. Time check: 7 am. Okay still plenty of time. I tried to apply a layer of make up to my tired face, only to have the baby's hysterical crying as my morning theme music. ( man is it hard to sing along with that... but I am starting to learn the words) Hubby asks ( from under the covers while hitting the snooze button for the 100th time,) " why is he crying?" I glare at him in disgust and say , " I dunno." Hubby responds, " did you feed him?" I raise my left eyebrow wayyyy above my bangs... and swear to myself not to kill him. I finish up and go to the big kids' room and start the morning countdown. Both kids seem to almost listen to me. A seemingly overfed and relfuxy baby hurls on my black shirt. I wipe it off and continue on...I get the two version 1.0 out of bed... and downstairs for breakfast. I accidentally dripped syrup on Gus' head.. but he didn't seem to mind. I guess he figured that he has thrown up on me about 300 times since Sunday... he owes me one. Amazingly I got all 3 kids and myself out the door by 8:50. Not bad. Not bad at'tall. Drop off went smoothly at the kids' school. I drove into the city. I had an appointment with a graphic designer to help with the design of Angus' birth announcement. I arrived 30 minutes early... perfect to sneak in that mid morning feed. Angus ate... and I popped him into the pouch. He was fast asleep.Two thumbs up. I told a woman that I was there to meet with one of the designers. I was informed that she was "running late." An hour later...I was told, " ya know, she's not a morning person." I thought to myself..."I'm no morning person... but I've been up since 5:45... what's her excuse?" grr. I left. Gus barfed on me. I wiped it off. So far the day had been fine... but that annoyed me. Gus and I went home together.We spent some time just staring at each other. I told him that he was my dream come true. He barfed on my mouth after I kissed him. Now that's love! I picked up MS & HIP at 3 o'clock and drove home. I was so proud. I didn't mess up! 2 minutes after we walked in the door, HIP locked the bathroom door and shut it so MS couldn't get in.A skuffle ensued. I kindly broke it up... and HIP apologized. ( The bathroom is still locked.I'm not quite sure how we're going to unlock it.) Afterwhile I decided to check my e-mail. A few minutes later, MS walks into the office holding Angus.( she had taken him out of his carseat) I quickly put my hand over my mouth so I didn't squeal and scare the bejesus out of her. She said, " I only hit his head one time on the floor." She was so proud. I was proud too. This day could have been a lot worse. I loved every minute of it. Let's see how we do tomorrow.

Master of the Random thought

Holden has always had this ability to perplex us with some of the things he says. Back in the day, when the kids were about 2 years old we had quite a time getting them into bed one night when we were at the beach. Holden screamed his head off for hours no matter what we did. I laid in bed with him, rubbed his back, patted his bottom, sang to him, rocked him, swayed him with no avail. Parker and I took shifts... and nothing seemed to work. At about 2 am I gave up. I was willing to let him run willie nillie around the house until he passed out. Parker is more careful than I so he took him into the bedroom and sat in the dark with him. After HOURS of screaming, there was silence. I walked into the room very quietly and Parker was smiling. I said, "uh, what's going on?" Parker responded, " Holden just said, ' Dad, I like olives.' and he went to sleep." See what I mean? Random thought. Well, tonight as we sat at the dinner table, Holden commented on how Ruby is lonely. Holden said, " Ruby needs a friend that's made out of dog." Another Holdenism: while looking down my dad's throat with a flashlight... he said, " Pop Pop, lemme look down your drain." See what I mean? He has such a way with words. I hope he never loses that. It's hilarious.

kinda sad

I can't tell if the ol' hormones are kickin' back in, or if yesterday was just kinda sad all around. Let me start at the beginning. I had an appointment with my dietician at Dr. R's office yesterday. (Remember~ these are the people I saw every 7 days for 17 weeks) I was prepared to go in and see everyone; especially my friend who works in the lab... remember she taught me the word "ticklebits?" When I walked in, the first few people we saw were so excited to see me and meet Gus. It was a warm feeling. Strangely enough, I was glad to be at my doctor's office. Sometimes I am weird... but that's not the point. I was glad to be in a familiar place. This all came to a screetching hault when I found out that my friend from the lab stopped working at the office. "Wh-wh-wh-where'd she go???" Sniff. I asked... "why did she leave??" ( loaded with panic and disappointment) I was told in a very hushed voice... " we had to make some cuts... we're all pretty sad about the changes." ( I was on the verge of crying) I REALLY wanted my friend to meet Gus! I REALLY wanted her to hold him so I could take her picture. I KNOW these things happen... but I'm not good at dealing with change. Off to a meeting at the kids' school. There have been some changes made to some things at school that have caused a few eyebrows to furrow and a lot of questions to be asked. Basically the parents staged a revolt and stormed the castle. I stood in the back of the room, and didn't get the entire story because people kept making a fuss over Gus.. which was nice... but I couldn't pay attention to the various points being made. I will say : (oh, I FYI.. I was sorta hired as the " art teacher" last year for the kids' school. Given my CRAZY doctor's appointment schedule for the last 2 trimesters.. I was only able to carry out one real project... but had planned on returning this spring to fulfill the "art teacher role.") I shook a little because The first thing addressed were the " specialists" at the school ( ie: art teacher... and the like) Of course the woman running the show starts out by saying" The art teacher hasn't been here because she, uh, well because of her new baby.... bla bla bla..." She then went on to explain that most of the speicalists have small children etc... and the schedules have been a little relaxed due to family commitments. She mentioned that one of the specialists didn't have kids and tried to make thing lighter by saying " She doesn't have kids... thank goodness!"( laughing under her breath with a sigh of relief...) OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT. Now I know she was under fire... and I know she thought she was funny... but that statement felt like she was running a business... not a loving school environment.Anyways she segway'd right into one very important person... in the community... who just had a babe... who informed the community yesterday that she isn't coming back in the fall. My heart dropped. I just hept hearing " she won't be returning in the fall and we are working on finding a replacement. " ( Hey important person in the community... I know you read my blog... so I sincerely want to add: I am thrilled for you that you will able to stay at home and get to experience the little one. I couldn't be happier for you. I'm just sad for us. You understand, right? Please say you do.)I'd say that ( what I got from the meeting.. it wa a little hard w/ people fussing over Gus) things were discussed, and the changes being made in the school were explained. So in less than 3 hours 2 major changes were made. These changes aren't extreme... they're just changes.. and when you're overtired.. change is hard. I had my good boy Gus with me all day. He was a real trooper. It seems that he has his first cold. Poor lil' man. I'm taking him to the pediatrician today because his little cough sounds a little scary to me... it's just a little too chesty for me to ignore. Given that MS & HIP had bronchitis last week and were licking his little face every chance they got, and Parker has" the sickness" it doesn't surprise me. I am so sad for baby Gus ( yes I'm sad for the rest of my family as well... it's just that this is Gus' FIRST cold.) I really thought we could wait longer than a month to get our first cold. NOT FAIR! Gus slept on my chest last night all night. I was terrified to put him down. He is so snotty and goopy... and he coughs a lot. I just wanted him near me. Plus there's nothin' better than a snuggly baby to help soothe that awful anxiety attack. Ch-CH-Ch-Changes.......

Torpedos

Back in the day(high school to be exact) my group of friends, lovingly called: The Beverlys... or "The Bevs" for short, had a breast sizing system. The sizes ranged from :"torpedo tits" all the way down to "gun powder". "Bullets" and "bee bees" ( or however you spell it) were the mid range and smaller size. I had : torpedo tits. When I was in high school, I was well, let's just say bigger than I am today. It wasn't a big deal really, I was just 5' tall... and weighed well over 150 lbs. It was the beginning of my kidney disease... where I retained every ounce of fluid I ate or drank all over my entire body. I wasn't flabby or out of shape... quite the opposite... I was just that one portly girl on the lacrosse team and tennis team that everyone loved. I was happy... and perky... and when I say perky, I mean all over. My "torpedos" rested somewhere in my neck. The girls hadn't dropped. The rack stood pround and strong, and BIG. After I got my diabetes in better control... and was put on a slew of diaretics and ace inhibitors... I lost the weight, and and my D sized lovelies shrunk to a big A or a small B. I saw them as manageable... and much sexier than the huge tracks of land I had in the past. When I got pregnant I knew something was up. The thing that was up was the size of my boobs. I swelled up to a 40 D. After Angus was born I spent the first few weeks being engorged... and trying to figure out breast feeding and the like. I noticed that the nursing bras I bought for the ol' hospital bag were a tad snug. I went to Motherhood Maternity today to actually buy some nursing shirts and some new bras. I am not.. shall we say, uh~ discreet when it comes to nursing... maybe a few new bras and a coupla shirts actually designed for breastfeeding would help a shy girl out. The lady who worked in the store asked me if I needed to get measured. I gladly accepted her offer. She said " you should be wearing a 36 E." WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA? D-d-d-did she just say the letter E?! Good-NESS! I never thought I'd ever go that large! I'm almost as big as my Dolly!( back when she was in middle school ;) ) The great news is that I obviously was put on this Earth to nurse a baby with these things. Boobs... not just for holding up bikini tops anymore.

Dizzy are you out there?

Here we find Angus channelling the late great Dizzy Gillespie. With cheeks like these we can only hope that he grows to be a world renowned trumpet player. :)

Week 3... am I getting the hang of this yet?

Before I get into life w/ baby & 2 four year olds: I saw the Lactation Consultant on Friday morning. She was very cool, and very supportive of my concerns. Her first opinion was that Gus doesn't have reflux. She asked when he seems to pull off and arch his back when he eats. I told her about 2 -3 minutes into the feed. She said that in her opinion, he wasn't refluxing. (because he will eat for 20 minutes at a time w/out signs of pain) She believes that I have a monster of a "let down" and Gus probably gets a mouthful of milk very quickly, and has to pull off and gag and choke because he's getting too much at once, not refluxing. The other issue is: After he pulls off ( due to the "let down") he doesn't re-establish his wide opened mouth latch.. because he probably doesn't want another mouthful of milk, so he keeps his lips closer together, as to not allow the large quantities of milk to choke him again. She said that he was probably guarding himself. Makes perfect sense to me. It made so much sense to me that I stopped giving him that god awful zantac. ( I will discuss this w/ Dr. G on Monday) Gus' voice isn't hoarse anymore, and he eats willingly for 20-30 minutes. I THINK I MIGHT be getting the hang of this breastfeeding stuff. Gus is back up to his birth weight( 9#4 oz) and is 21 1/2 " long. I cna't believe I grew a baby of his size in my body. He must have been so smooshed! I was laughing last night when Millie wanted to carry him across the room. I said, "MS Gus weighs almost half as much as you do.. and he's only 3 weeks old. :)" Any bets on when Gus passes Millie? I bet it'll be within the first year.

Now: Life in this house:
My mom went home for a nice weekend with my dad and to spend some time with some of her friends. She left at 3pm on Friday. At approximately 3:05 I had to feed Gus. MS & HIP were playing with some wooden blocks in the family room " building a city." At approximately 3:07 MS freaked out ( over nothing from what I can tell) and kicked over HIP's buildings, and growled at him. HIP immediately started to cry. MS bitch slapped him. I calmly stated: "we do not do this in our house." MS SCREAMED, " YOU'RE NOT COMING TO MY BIRTHDAY PARTY!!!!!GRRRRRRRSQUEAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I said, " Little one, you better get your act together. I know you are angry, but this is not a nice way to talk to anyone. Do you want to tell me what is going on , so I can help?" MS: " NOOOOOOOOOO! AHHHHHGRRRRRRR!" Okay... tick tock tick tock... Me: " Millie Sue, I think you might need to go upstairs for a little while and think about how to be nice to people. MS : "" I'm not going upstairs." Me: ( getting close to my breaking point) You do not have a choice anymore, you will go ustairs for 5 minutes." " MS: " No I won't!" Me : (at the point where I can see a downward spiral of screaming developing) ... silence... angry face. " MILLICENT GET UPSTAIRS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Oh man...it happened. I lost my cookies because my kid didn't listen to me. Where did my " kinder gentler way of parenting" go? I'm not a parent who compares her children to other children. I'm not a person who likes to be compared to others because I want to be my own person, not one of the herd. As I say that, I also want the elusive respect I see other kids give their parents when they speak. Now, I'm not saying that I'm not proud of Millie for standing firm on her feelings... because I have never been able to do that. I always victimize the other person, and give in. It's my nature to not be confrontational. When in a resturant, if I find a short and curly ( yes... that kind of short and curly... and yes it did happen to me)hair in my mashed potatoes on the first bite, I calmly gag and push the plate away. Nothing is ever mentioned. I internally deal, and a fuss is never made. I have friends who will ask to move tables in a resturant because the woman sitting behind us is wearing perfume that is too strong. Ya know what? That is totally cool... as long as I'm not the one doing the complaining... but I digress: Millie is a strong little woman with a HOT temper. I am currently trying to figure out how to teach her that while it is definitely okay to be angry... growling and screaming threats louder than a howler monkey is pretty much frowned upon in society. So, back to the story, I have one kid WAILING because he was un-invited to his twin sister's birthday party for the thousand'th time in one day... a long haired,skinny pterodactyl screaming at the top of her lungs, and a baby vacuumed to my right boob... listening to his first argument on the "outside." I felt so bad for Gus... he was sucking away... with his brow all furrowed. I kept telling myself... " find your happy place, find your happy place..." I finally got Millie to go upstairs. She sat up there yelling " how much longer?????!!!" Once I yelled back " until you're 18 and then you can go get your own place!" Oh man! How is she so much like me??? It is so frustrating sometimes. I feel bad for her because I can only imagine that the reason this all started was because HIP built something she 1) didn't like, or 2) was jealous she couldn't build something like that. NOW: stretch that temper tantrum into an entire weekend.. yes people... she has been like this since friday afternoon. I needless to say am a little worn out. I know that MS's little life is changing these days, and I should allow for some frustration... so I will continue to figure out how to communicate and see eye to eye with my 26 pound 4 year old prize fighter. Gus Gus seems to think that is is cool to be awake ( and happy) from about 2 am - 6 am. Just kickin' and talkin' to the ceiling... and asking to eat out of boredom. Ahhhh yes... I have become a " pacifier"... in every way Let's see how week 4 goes.

We're all good.

It seems that eventhough Gus mayyyy have an incorrect latch... he is getting enough calories to hold him over. Gus weighed 9lbs 1 oz today! Yes indeedy he gained one half a pound in 7 days. So we're not using the "s" word in our vocabulary... at least not right now. :) It was discovered that Gus has a touch of the reflux. I noticed that his little voice was a little hoarse... and he arches a lot when he eats. Back when M& H were babes... I would have freaked out and called as soon as I heard any change in their voices... but I wasn't as quick to diagnose Gus with reflux due to his size. ( M&H both were relfuxing fools until they were 1. We speak reflux very fluently. ) As much as I hate it.. Gus was put on zantac. Hopefully this will do the trick and he will grow out of it soon. Dr. G. said that he couldn't be happier with Gus' health. He said that Gus is looking great and gave me the old standard, " Keep up the good work." I am still planning on going to see the lactation consultant in the morning, just to make sure that I am working these boobies the right way, and I'm not wasting anyone's time... especially Gus'.

Last night was a real eye opener: I ( accidentally ) fell asleep @ 11pm while feeding Gus. Parker woke me up @ 2:30. I got up and got ready for bed... and fed the wee one. As I was finishing up the 3 0'clock feed, in walked a very warm... and very sleepy Holden. Seems that his fever spiked back up, and the " coughs" were keeping him awake. I put G back in the bassinet, and got to work on the older boy variety. I medicated /hydrated/and snuggled him back into dreamland. I woke up in a toddler bed @ 6:45.. walked myself back to my bed... woke up @ 7 for the 7 o'clock feed. I sat up @ 9:45 very groggy, but somehow glad that I did it.. and I didn't even cry. Maybe just maybe I'm going to be able to do this after all.

Due date.

February 20th was Gus' due date. It was kind of weird to look back on my pregnancy yesterday. I coincidentally had an appointment w/Dr. L. It was nice to see her. I had a little seperation anxiety from her/ Georgetown hospital. Think about it... I was there 4 times a week for the last 2 months of my pregnancy. I got used to my surroundings. Anyways...Dr. L checked my incision... and checked my head to see if i have PPD. Everything checked out okay... and I was sent on my way. I am going to make an appointment w/ a lactation consultant today. I am afraid that Gus' latch isn't quite right... and i'm not getting enough milk into him. Today is the official "weigh in" @ Dr. G's. Hopefully G is gaining weight... or I'm sure I'll hear the "s" word. Everyone keep their fingers crossed... and think heavy thoughts.

unconditional

I hope he never makes me stop doing this to him. Okay... it might look a little weird when he's 30 years old... but you know what I mean.

We're Fockerizing

I'm not trying to look for reasons to question the way I parent. I'm not even sure I agree w/ all the AP opinions etc... I do know that I am trying a calmer.. more soothing way to raise my children than I did in the past. With a little bit of research and the ability to count to ten in my head before screaming my head off... I really want to try the elusive attachment parenting. Problem is: am I setting myself up? I LOVE wearing Gus. LOVE IT. He gets all squished up in the fetal position... and rests his head on my boobs for hours, while he's in the pouch. I prefer not to put him in a swing. ( eventhough Millie and Holden spent probably 70% of their days as babies in swings as I tried to learn how to be their mommy.) No loud music. ( eventhough Millie and Holden rocked out to Southern Culture on the Skids pretty much all day... since it was the one thing that calmed them down) I HATE to hear him cry ( eventhough when Millie and Holden were babies I would not allow anyone to touch them for 30 minutes as they learned to "self soothe." ) I'm not sure Gus has ever cried for more than 40 seconds while I changed his diaper, and when he does fuss.. I just say, " what's the fuss Gus? " and he stops and looks for my face. He has never been instructed to " self soothe" and when given the oppertunity, Gus lays next to me in bed while I nurse him quietly telling him how much I love him. What happened to me? Why was I so " hard" on Millie and Holden.. but totally protective of Gus? WHy was I uncomfortable telling Millie and Holden that I loved them until they were well over 1 year old? Maybe I realized that life is hard... and children should look to their parents as a support network-vs- dictators. Maybe I was so terrified to lose Millie and Holden ( due to their rocky start) that I was a tough ass out of defense?Maybe the bond was harder to establish because Susan carreid them? ( I HOPE that is not the reason!) I don't know... but I will tell you: I feel guilty about my past parenting style. I have been told by a few people to "put him down" to sleep.. "so he gets used to it." My argument there is : His actual due date isn't until tomorrow. If he were still inside of me, he'd feel movements and hear my voice. I can't imagine feeling certain movements, and hearing one person's voice as long as my ears worked... and all of a sudden have to " learn" ( by my own defenses) how to sleep on my back... and cry.. and hear other people's voices up close and personal. I know that in time I will want to put Gus down. For now I want to ease everyone into the transition... KINDLY. I don't want to bark " I am doing this my way... leave me alone!" to the people trying to help me. They aren't saying these things to start trouble. I know they are trying to help. Hey, if I'm willing to allow Gus to use my boob as his pacifier from 1:45AM - 4:45 AM... that's my choice, right? I could EASILY pop a noonie in his mouth... but, where's the kindness in that? Parker isn't into the co-bedding-baby wearing- cloth diapering thing as much as I am... but he doesn't disrespect the choices I am making. I am thankful for him. I know things feel a little rocky, but I bet in a few weeks I'll have this down pat. For now I'll nod my head and smile... and know that if I wanna wear my baby until he asks me to put him down ... I can do that. Parker and I like to joke and say " we're Fockerizing Gus." ( if you don't get that one.. go watch the movie " Meet the Fockers." HILARIOUS) We'll do what's right for us... and save up for Gus' therapy along the way.

2 weeks gone by

I think there is a cruel irony about the weeks post partum. Why is it that the ol' pregnancy hormones hit ya a week after the delivery? I mean, think about it, I had to carry this little guy( shut up, I know he's huge... but it's all relative right?) for 37 weeks to finally meet him... and for the weeks following his birth.. I am riddled with fear and anxiety. Now,I hold him and look at him pretty much all day... and it is just now that I am able to see his inate beauty. I revel in his babyness and the spectacle that is all him. I get lost in the sounds of his breathing and the smell of his hair. I love when he tries to latch onto my lips and I take the oppertuity to kiss him all over his face. I get sad because I think back to the week we came home from the hosptial and I remember how troubled I felt about having a new baby. I want that week back! DO over! I don't think Gus minds... as long as I hold him and give him my boobs when he asks. I don't remember the power of being a new mom to Millie and Holden. I remember being kind of scared, but proud of my responsibility... and really played down the twin card... make believing that it was " easy." Gus is easy. Gus cries when I change his diaper... and when he is hungry. Other than that he is the wunkerkind baby I totally don't deserve. I cannot believe how lucky I am to have been given this oppertunity. What a totally amazing experience. A few days ago I realized that I now have 3 children... who rock my world more each day. What did I do to deserve this?

Pouch glorious pouch

Jennifer what would I do without you? Yes friends, my friend Jen ( Jenny to me and a handful of others) Makes these absolutely amazing pouch slings. I cannot tell you how amazing they are... you have to find out for yourself. Scoot yer fruit on over to http://www.bellalinabambina.com and order up a slew of them today! You'll thank me for it. I tried very hard to wear Millie and Holden when they were babies.. but they were so small, they would get all swallowed up in the fabric. Given " Tiny's" girth.. he fits in this thing jusssst right. There are days where Gus is in it for 3-4 hours and he is snoozin' the entire time. He gets mad when I take him out to feed him. One of these days I'll figure out how to nurse him while he is IN the pouch. :) Baby steps... I just figured out how to get the kid to latch on without cussing my head off because it hurts so badly. I will say.. I think poor Baby Gus gets a little confused when his little face is up against my boobs. A few times he has literally bounced ( yes just like a ball) his face off of my boobies over and over again.. getting madder by the second because there is just no nipple to be found.. and I am obviously wearing him just to tease him. The pouch has also saved his life. Remember that two 4 year olds can be pretty powerful when they want to accomplish something. I shoulda known something was up when they were 3 years old & they poured diet coke into an apple juice bottle and put it in the fridge ... and started begging for " juice." 3 Years old people. They make sure they get what they want. Let's just say that Gus is safe if I wear him. Hence... I am an attachment parent by default. It's cool. That's what I wanted anyways.

The "F" word. Gus : one week old.

We arrived home from the hosptial on Sunday February 5th at about 1 pm. All seemed well. The next day We saw our awesome pediatrician, Dr. Gober for the official "check in." Gus' bilirubin tested a level 12 on Sunday at the hospital. Dr. Gober said that was perfect, and all again was well. He even gave us his old faithful, " keep up the good work, he looks great" line. We had no reason to worry! Finally: a full term baby who was happy, healthy and fat fat fat. The next day my good friend Cathy came over (per my demands :) ) to meet Baby Gus. Cathy noticed the yellow in Gus' skin, but I told her " oh he's fine.. the doctor said..." bla bla bla. After Cathy left, I got a little nervous, so what was the harm in calling good ol' Dr. G? Dr. G said, why don't we just have him checked out... to be safe. Parker and I packed it up and went to the hospital lab to ease our minds, knowing that it was a waste of time, but still worth it to check, just in case. Shows you how much we know. Dr. Gober called the SECOND were returned home fromthe lab. He said " Take Gus back to the hospital." It seems that the cut off for a high bilirubin is 25 ( seizures, deafness, CP etc.. are all complications from a biliruben results of this level.) Gus's bilirubin was 22. We arrived at Shady Grove Hosptial at 10 pm. We walked into our room to find out that our roomate was a 17 year old girl passing a kidney stone. We apologized for the inconvienience. She said " ohh it's okay, I have a 6 week old at home, I'm used to it." Gus was put on a very strict every 2 hour feeding schedule... and we were forced to supplement w/ formula( the "F" word) WITH A BOTTLE. NOOOOOOOOOOO say it isn't so! A Bottle?.. .But but.. Gus is a breastfed baby! He's still learning... can't we cup feed??? " No" said the nurse. I was devastated. I was going to mess everything up. Luckily my hormones were kicking in.. so I was crying about everything. ( especially the fact that we were having a bris for Gus.) I cried through the night as I shared a hosptial bed with Parker... winced at every move since my incision was very tender... and my body hurt. I cried at every feed...knowing that a bottle was the enemy... eventhough it was helping my little baby boy hydrate... and pee and poo out those yucky left over dead red blood cells his immature little liver couldn't kill off. The guilt set in nicely as I realized that I never once questioned Millie adn Holden's care inthe NICU and never once "guraded" my children as they were having procedures. IF someone even thought about touching Gus that night, I was very defensive and concerned that Gus was scared or confused. I felt like such a bad mother. Do I love Gus more than I love Millie and Holden??? Ahh confusion.. hormones... fear... anger! I fell asleep crying. A lactation consultant arrived @ about 10 am. She was very upset that we were forced to bottle feed .. especially since I could have fed the entire pediatric unit w/ the amount of milk I produce. We arranged to "finger feed" Gus. YAY! No more stinky formula or nipple confusion! I felt like that bolder on my shoulder was lifted. Later in the morning we were told that another bili would be drawn THE NEXT MORNING. Uh oh.. more waterworks. I couldn't stop myself. I was DONE. Another 24 hours of this crap? NO Luckily Dr. G called and I explained that this arrangement was less than satisfactory..and worked out a deal that if Gus' bili came down to an acceptable level, maybe we could go home on a bili-blanket. Gus' next test showed that his bilirubin was 18.5. Not quite low enough. We talked things over with the Dr. on staff . She agreed to re-test Gus' bili and see if things were coming down later that day. @ 5 pm we were told that we could go home. Oh Joy and rapture! HOME! I was laughing and crying at the same time. These hormones can be tricky. We waited until 9pm for the bili blanket guy to arrive...and we skee daddled. Upon arriving at our home.. I lost my cookies. I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't want to feed Gus.. or even look at him. He was screaming his little head off.. and I sat pretty much naked in the bathroom bawling. What a miserable failure I was. Parker offered to finger feed Gus... so I could sleep, but I couldn't pump enough milk. For the first time in a week my body wouldn't make milk. The world's worst anxiety attack followed suit. What a hideous affair. I reluctantly fed Gus. He is so frikkin' awesome. If I were him I would have bitten my nipple hard... but he didn't. He drank slowly and calmly as I cried softly, while surrounded by my poor mom and my frazzled husband. Again my support network is amazing. Convinced I was in the throws of PPD. I crawled into bed.. and sweated the night away... along with feeding my baby boy. Things got better. Gus got better. His bilirubin tested 15 the next day.. and then down to 14 as of Friday night. It's been a long week. I am tired, but not "beaten." I know I can do this.. As long as I have my family with me to remind me that I am only human.. . and I'm doing the best I can.

Hospital couture.

This is the last belly shot we have on January 31st. Notice my hot knee high medical grade stockings. These suckers were tight as a mother to help with the swelling in my legs. As relaxed as I look in this picture, I was absolutely terrified, but hoped to lighten the mood. I loved being pregnant, and I was actually very sad in in this moment, knowing I would only have a few more hours of my round belly and that constant kicking.

37 weeks, Can you tell?

OH MY GOD. Look at my face!AHHH Can you tell the novelty has worn off? Can you tell that the pain in my legs is so excruciating that I have forced myself to smile at all? Can you see my 3 chins and extra cheeks? Can you tell that I simply need to sleep? ( I was awake last night from 3am-6am.. and HIP joined us in the family bed @ 6:30am ... which woke me up for good) Can you tell that my children are fighting more than usual and I am trying so hard to not flip out. Can you tell I am just about done?

I hope you are answering "yes" to each one of these questions.