The Story of Jude Coming Earthside- Part 2

Around probably 5am -ish, the contractions were getting incredibly painful. I was definitely in transition and feeling that doubt and fear in full force. The contractions were ripping through me and I was SO exhausted. The midwife checked me and said I was a “stretchy” 8cm and she was pretty sure that if she broke my water, he would be born shortly after. I’d been adamant throughout the pregnancy that I did NOT want my water broken, so I refused, but after a few more contractions, we decided to trust her judgment and let her go ahead.

Continue reading “The Story of Jude Coming Earthside- Part 2”

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Baby Items: THE NURSERY

I’d started out with the first column of this list titled “Need”, but then decided that that was a very loose use of that word. I mean, really, we don’t need almost anything to take care of and raise a baby. I think our culture and the marketing industry does a stellar job of making us feel like we truly must have all of the best things in order for our children to have happy, healthy lives, but the large majority of what we purchase when we have a baby is fluff. Nice fluff. Very convenient fluff. But still… fluff. That being said, our family also has PLENTY of it. This post, and the following posts, are in no way casting judgement on what parents choose to purchase/register for for their kiddos. It is merely my personal point of view on which items you should get, which ones are nice to have but not necessary, and which ones you can definitely live without. After doing endless research pre-baby, thinking I’d found all the best and most necessary items, I still found that we ended up with a lot of things that were barely/not used and a lot of things we ended up wishing we’d had on hand.
Continue reading “Baby Items: THE NURSERY”

Sleep Regression: UPDATE

It’s been about 3 months since I wrote about The Dreaded 4-Month Sleep Regression, so I thought it would be appropriate to update on how our sleep is going and what we’ve learned since then. When I wrote that post, I was so exhausted and so emotional. I was, quite literally, crying on my keyboard. I spent a great deal of my time consumed with worry about her sleep and so unsure of myself about how I was handling it.

Something I read time and time again when scouring websites and blogs regarding sleep regressions was to be careful to NOT create a new bad habit or sleep crutch during regressions. It’s easy to do when you’re desperate and feel out of options, but it’s a really easy way to make a temporary sleep regression turn into a permanent problem. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that’s exactly what we we did.

Continue reading “Sleep Regression: UPDATE”

Creating a Birth Plan

For those who have never created a birth plan, you may be wondering what the importance of this “birth plan” business is. It does sound a bit “crunchy”, and some of it can be depending on your preferences, but a lot of it is just being prepared to handle certain medical situations that may arise for mom and/or baby. When you are in the throws of labor, it is very hard to think clearly (for both mom & birth partner), so making these decisions ahead of time when you can research & think clearly and rationally is crucial. I think many people assume that birth plans are only for natural labors & deliveries, but it is truly just a plan for your birth and is important for every type of delivery!

Before we started trying to get pregnant, I had no idea that birth plans were a *thing*. If you’d asked me then what I hoped my future birth plan to look like, I would have said something like “go to hospital —> have baby—> go home.” However, during the nearly two year process of trying to get pregnant, I learned so much about my body and all the amazing things it is capable of. I’ve spent countless hours reading birth stories of all types in order to help me conceptualize the kind of birth I wanted. I learned two really important things reading through these other women’s experiences. One: while mom & dad (or other birth partners) birth experience IS important… NOTHING is as important as the safety of mom & baby. And two: babies have their own plans.

Continue reading “Creating a Birth Plan”

Postpartum Anxiety & Depression

Before I start this post, I just want to preface with this:

My intention here is to show postpartum depression and anxiety in a way that can be real to you & for anyone out there struggling with it (or any baby or non-baby-related mood disorders) to not feel ashamed or alone. Please do not feel sorry for me! I am the luckiest mama, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, & friend on the planet and I’m so privileged to have the love and support of such awesome people!

So here we go.

It’s funny, we’ve been talking about starting this blog for a while, so I’ve been keeping a list in my notes on my phone of topics to write about for months, even before Wren was born. On this list was “postpartum anxiety”. I put it on the list before I even had Wren, because I knew it was going to become a reality for me.

There are a few different types of “mood disorders” that can occur postpartum. According to americanpregnancy.org, the “baby blues” is considered the least severe of the forms of postpartum depression and typically subsides within 2 weeks of delivery. This affects nearly 80% of women, which isn’t incredibly surprising considering the rapid shift in hormones that occurs after the baby is born and the mother is no longer pregnant. Postpartum depression is more severe & longer lasting than the baby blues. It includes more intense symptoms & postpartum anxiety is often umbrella’d under it. “Symptoms usually develop within the first few weeks after birth, but may begin later — up to 6 months after birth.” The rarest and most severe form of postpartum depression is postpartum psychosis. “This can lead to life-threatening thoughts or behaviors and requires immediate treatment.”

General anxiety is something I’ve struggled with for years. I think it’s probably been hanging around for most of my life, but it’s just always kind of been my normal. In an effort to be totally transparent- I will share that I was on anxiety meds for about a year (while Aaron was deployed- way too much for me to handle without some help) & I have gone through two rounds, for lack of a better term, of counseling. At the time, the meds were the right choice for me and really helped take the panicky edge off of my feelings. Both times I went to counseling were incredibly helpful & I definitely learned great skills to help manage my anxiety and keep it mostly at bay. At any rate, I knew my anxiety would be fueled by the hormones, exhaustion, & fears as a first-time-mom.

After Wren was born, I was definitely hormonal and emotional. Like most new moms, I was overwhelmed & exhausted. We’d had a complicated delivery (you can read that story *here, here, & here*) and were about to embark on a cross country move with a newborn and 3 dogs. I felt like most of my feelings were totally in the normal realm of the baby blues, especially considering the huge changes we had coming. After the big move and once things settled down, I felt pretty okay for a little while. I had some (what I could consider) normal-first-time-mom-anxiety about if Wren Marí was eating enough, if I was doing things right, etc., but it didn’t feel out of control. I was able to let these things pass and generally enjoy my days and my time with little girl & my husband.

Then, about two months ago (about 3.5 months postpartum), it started to get worse. What had worked for me in the past to keep my anxiety in check was no longer sufficient. I definitely did not realize it at the time and can only now look back and see when the change happened. It didn’t occur to me that I could be having postpartum anxiety & depression so long after her birth. I was generally not enjoying my days and I was spending a lot of time preoccupied in fear, which made me depressed. I’ve been asked what it is that I worry about, but truly, that part is unimportant. It’s the irrational, overwhelming feeling that can allow what was once a “normal” concern to snowball into 480 worst case scenarios that play on repeat in my mind. It’s the fact that feeling this way interferes with my life & my relationships — preventing me from being the best mom, wife, sister, daughter, friend, etc., that I can be. The best way I can think to describe it is as if I’ve somehow ended up stranded in rough surf, fighting to stay above water, but exhausted from the struggle. I won’t give up, but I’m so tired.

So anyway, let me tell you a story. This is embarrassing for me to admit, but it’s just part of my truth. A Friday morning, about two weeks ago, Aaron was out running errands. He’d seen an ad for the local roller derby that had a game (is that what they’re called?) that evening. We’d been talking about going to one of these for seriously years, so he excitedly texted me about it & suggested we go that night. I responded that yes, that sounded fun & we should check it out, but I immediately started to worry. What if we got into a car accident? What if someone flew off the roller rink (?) and smashed into us? What if Wren picked up some kind of awful illness while we were out? What if? What if? What if? I spent the entire day silently worrying about all the possible awful things that could happen on our way to, & at, the event. I couldn’t focus on anything. Thankfully, some tiny, rational piece of my mind stopped me in my tracks. “Do you realize you’re avoiding going out in public because you’re afraid?” Woah. How did I get here? This is not who I am or who I want to be. I was so overwhelmed with fear and guilt. I knew something had to change.

So I told Aaron. I’m sure he could tell that I’d been off for a while, but probably didn’t realize (just as I hadn’t) how far away I’d gotten. Just sharing my feelings lifted such a huge weight off me. It can feel so very isolating to be so lost in your own head. We talked about it and I decided I wanted to go to the roller derby. It was really fun & I’m so glad we went. In a way, I’m so thankful that my anxiety reached this extreme because it helped me to see just enough through the fog to help me find my way out of it. I also found out that a previous hairdresser of mine is apparently a roller derby champ. Maybe I should go see her instead of getting my hair cut at Great Clips again… (hashtag mom probs).

Since then, I’ve been very intentional about being aware of my thoughts and trying to stop myself when I begin to stumble. Some of the things that I’ve found that help me are:

  • Exercise
  • Spending time outside with my family
  • Working on projects/hobbies
  • Reading
  • Staying in frequent communication with family & friends
  • Church
  • Ice cream & cookies (let’s be real)

Sometimes these things work & sometimes they don’t. This is a process that I know I’ll be working on for a long time to come, probably forever.

In doing some of the research for this post, I came across something that said  “This isn’t about positive thinking — it’s about being rational,” and that really says it perfectly for me. This isn’t about being glass-half-full or empty. This is about staying conscious of when my fears and worries “overshoot reality.” I certainly don’t have the answers, but I know that with the support of my family & friends, I will continue to push & grow through this.

I hope that if you are experiencing depression or anxiety, you know that you aren’t alone! Finding your happy again looks different for everyone, so don’t give up until you find the thing(s) that works for you.

~~~

http://www.parents.com/parenting/moms/healthy-mom/the-other-postpartum-problem-anxiety/

http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/postpartum-depression/basics/symptoms/con-20029130

http://americanpregnancy.org/first-year-of-life/baby-blues/

The Birth of our Baby Bird

I think I should preface this one with a disclaimer: I’m not one for a lot of build-up and back-story. The experience of seeing my baby girl come barreling into the world does not begin with ultrasounds, lab work, and weeks upon weeks upon months of agonizing over preparations and plans. All of that stuff occupies a separate compartment in my mind. Our baby girl wasn’t quite a little human to me until the morning she was born. I had tried my hardest, having been through a miscarriage in the past, not to become a father to my daughter until she was in my arms, breathing and crying and squealing. Of course I have a grasp on reality, but I am also firmly rooted in the pragmatic and I am really cautious and reserved when it comes to investing emotion into anything. I like to remain in control of myself, regardless of the circumstances… Continue reading “The Birth of our Baby Bird”

Wren’s Birth Story, Part 2

Once the doctor broke my bag of waters, my cervix closed back up a little bit on one side. After being fully dilated at 10cm, I was now 9.5cm, and it was no longer safe to push. We spent the next 2.5 or so hours trying to get that part of my cervix to open back up but had no such luck. I was in an incredible amount of pain and had no break between contractions. They were just on top of each other and I was starting to get really desperate. The nurses kept being sure I’d progressed to 10cm again & were constantly checking my cervix to see if we were ready.

Aaron was so great during all of this and was doing whatever he could to help me. They had me laying on my side in bed for a while to see if gravity would help the cervical lip & let me tell you, contractions while laying down were a bitch (pardon my language). When a contraction would come, I would just grab whatever part of Aaron my hand landed on and squeeze until it was over. At one point, I grabbed his shirt and accidentally yanked a handful of chest hair. Whoopsie! Poor guy.

We tried so many positions and nothing was doing the trick to get me fully dilated again. I was starting to feel very pushy but they were telling me I could NOT push until I was 10cm (obviously). I truly did not know what to do and was struggling to fight against what my body was telling me to do. I was having a really hard time not pushing, so I opted for the smallest dose of phentanyl to try to help me catch my breath. I was hoping to get ahead so that I’d be ready when it was time to push. However, it didn’t help at all with the pain & ended up making me just fall asleep between contractions.

Finally, one of the nurses decided to try to force my cervix the rest of the way. She kept her hand on my cervix trying to push it to 10cm through several contractions. HOLY hell, this was AWFUL. After what felt like an eternity, it finally gave way. That was probably (definitely) the most uncomfortable part of the entire labor. I remember actually asking the nurse to take her hand out of me for just one contraction because I couldn’t stand it any longer.

Anyway, they decided I was ready to start pushing. My doc said to go ahead and start and she was going to run to check on someone else and would be back in a few minutes. So we start some “practice” pushes. On the second (I think?) contraction, I pushed Wren into the birth canal and her head was starting to crown. The doc was not back yet because again, they had assumed I’d be pushing for a long while since I’m a first time mom. I remember thinking Wren was half way out already from the way it felt, but they told me she wasn’t.

So, with the baby in the birth canal and her head crowning, they were telling me “DON’T PUSH! Breathe like this!”. So I was trying as hard as I could to breathe and not push, but the next big contraction came and there was nothing I could do to stop it. It’s incredible how your body just takes over. I remember saying, “I’m sorry but I can’t help it!”. Aaron said I had the most apologetic look on my face. So with that contraction, my baby girl flew out all at once! My husband videoed it and it really is amazing to see her fly out from head to toe in a half of a second. One nurse, who I later found out was on orientation, just barely caught her and the second nurse was still running over putting her gloves on.

Wren was crying right away and they set her on my tummy. The cord was around her neck, so I unwrapped it. You can hear them in the video saying, “Mom coming in clutch unwrapping the cord.” I guess they had paged the doc in the midst of all of that insanity, so she came in and started washing up and said “Ok, are we ready to have a baby?!” and the nurses were like, “Uh, she’s already here.” Wren was doing perfectly, so they let us continue skin-to-skin.

Once the doctor was washed up, she asked me to push once and she tugged on the cord (we will come back to this later) and my placenta came right out. At this point, I was bleeding pretty profusely. I was still pretty out of it from the pure exhaustion of labor and increasing blood loss, so I didn’t really know what was going on. They said they were going to give me more phentanyl & some local anesthetic and work on cleaning me up. They worked on me for what seemed to be about 30 minutes, but was apparently about 2 hours.

I don’t remember much from this part but I do remember that I got to keep Wren the whole time. I just looked & looked at her perfect little self. I also remember the doc counting how many gauze pads she was putting in and taking out of me and saying a few times that we might have to go to surgery. I didn’t have a clue what was going on but was honestly too tired and mesmerized to care. They finally got things under control and then explained to me what had happened. I’d had a partial uterine inversion… AKA: My uterus had tried to come out with the baby. I just barely escaped having to have a hysterectomy & I lost a lot of blood. The doctor was finally able to slow the bleeding and push my uterus back into place. Due to my blood loss, I was right on the edge of needing a blood transfusion however, the doctor said I could supplement with iron if I preferred, which is what we chose to do.

I had to stay flat on my back for the following 24 hours to ensure that my uterus wouldn’t try to come out again. I had to be spoon fed by Aaron or a nurse, use a bedpan, and breastfeed all while laying completely flat on my back. Thankfully, my amazing baby girl has been a champion nurser from day 1, so we were still able to establish a wonderful breastfeeding relationship. I also had the most amazing nurse who went way above and beyond. She stayed with me and chatted and helped with the baby when Aaron had to go home to take care of our dogs and get the house ready. She even brought me a more comfortable hospital bed from a different part of the hospital that had better beds. I am so thankful for this. Being flat on your back for 24 straight hours after labor & delivery is pretty miserable. Funny side note- she had noticed my nail polish color & liked it, so the next morning she came in to check on me and showed me that she’d gone and gotten hers done that color, too. We were instantly buds (I guess that happens when someone is literally dealing with your shit) & she truly made a huge difference in my experience.

My doctor came later that day & told us that we had been in a “true obstetric emergency”. I guess this isn’t something that had happened at this particular hospital before and she said that the OBGYN’s at the hospital had been talking about how to handle inversions in future situations. She also said that she was thankful to have previously worked at a hospital that dealt with high risk pregnancies, so she’d experienced an inversion before and knew how to handle it.

That day I also received a visit from the hospital CEO. He said that he visits different units in the hospital every day to see how things are going & that this was just routine, but I’m a little suspicious that it had something to do with our emergency situation.

The rest of our story is pretty simple… we went home that Friday, November 20th, 2 days after Wren came into the world. She was as healthy as could be from day 1 and was already at her birth weight again after only 3 days. I healed relatively quickly & my blood levels were normalized after about 3 weeks. My uterus has stayed put and I shouldn’t have any problems getting pregnant again (well not anymore than we already have).

The doctor did said say that I will likely not be able to have anymore natural labors. She said that a second uterine inversion is likely and since my first labor was so fast, I would probably have to have a “very controlled” induction at 38 weeks where they pull the baby out with forceps while someone holds my uterus inside me. This seems a little extreme to me and after further research, I’m not sure I’ll be taking her advice here.

So that’s our long, crazy, beautiful story of how we got our little baby bird, Wren Marí.

A few thoughts after my birth experience…

First, I think that the uterine inversion was likely caused by my doctor pulling on the placenta. That is a HUGE no-no & a known cause of inversions. Doctors KNOW this, so I’m not sure if she was just in a hurry or didn’t believe that it could really happen. I think she knew she messed up & I think this is also why I was visited by the hospital CEO. They are all very lucky that I healed well & won’t have any lasting repercussions from her actions.

I’d made a birth plan and given a copy to my doctor, but I wish I had made sure to go over each part of it with her. There are a lot of things that I wish we had done differently that I think would have made a difference in our labor & delivery experience. I think we could have avoided a lot of the drama.

Things that were in my birth plan that didn’t happen:

-I had a lot of things I was going to tell myself during labor that I knew would help me get through it. For example, “don’t fight against the contraction” and even something as simple and obvious as, “this is temporary & your baby girl is just hours (or less!) away.” I could NOT think anything at all during labor & I should have made sure Aaron knew these.

-I did not want my water broken. There is NO reason the waters need to be broken before the baby is born and I wish I’d just let my body do its job.

-I did not want to be told when to start pushing. I wanted to wait until my body started pushing on its own and push as my body directed me, rather than pushing as the doctors counted & instructed.

-I wanted to allow my placenta to come on it’s own. The body will contract again to expel the placenta without any direction from a doctor, and I feel pretty strongly that if this had happened naturally, I wouldn’t have had the inversion.

In the end though, we got a beautiful, healthy baby girl. She didn’t have any health problems as a result of our experience & for that I am SO grateful. I am hopeful that we will get pregnant again and that I’ll be able to use Wren’s birth experience to help us have a more drama-free labor & delivery.

If you’ve had a baby, do you have things you wish you’d done differently? If you’ve had more than one, do you feel like your experience with the first helped for the second or third babies? If you haven’t had kids yet, have you thought about how you’d like your labor & delivery experience to go? Share with us, we’d love to hear from you!

When the Music Stops

We are all connected in some shape or form, of that much I am fairly certain. Even if we are connected in ways no more evident or profound than that fleeting moment we lock eyes with a total stranger in line at the grocery store and feel that sudden, subtle “click,” we are still an influence on and are affected by the people around us.

I compare this feeling of connectivity to the way in which gears work and fit together in an old grandfather clock – a finely tuned piece of very precise workmanship that you can rely on to function exactly as it should. Although, at times it may be more appropriate to compare this connectedness to the way two cars fuse together in a fiery collision, or get tangled in a shared knot of metal and glass in a miles-long pile up, but the point remains: we do not live isolated and independent lives the way we think we do.

I am by no means insisting that there is some deep cosmic or spiritual bond uniting us with our fellow humans that we are powerless to escape, but sometimes it’s just undeniable that people can affect those around them simply by being present. People give off a sort of tune, a note in an ever-changing symphony. Just being there, playing your notes in a volume too quiet for the ear to hear, is enough to affect someone else’s rhythm.

In our home of three humans and three dogs, we usually play our notes in harmony. I would compare the connectedness at home to the relationship between the keys on a piano or strings on a guitar. On most days, we play our song well and we complement each other with our tunes in a sweet, flowing harmony.

But a few days ago, in a break from the norm, we played an awful noise – like nails on a chalkboard. I forgot the basics of which musical steps create a dissonant sound, but it is safe to write that we were not playing the soundtrack to a Broadway musical. We were all over whatever frequencies create that agonizing, dizzying, and wavering tremor that we hear when notes are played out of harmony… like when you’re driving with the car windows down just enough to distort the pressure in a way that makes it seem like the air is boxing your ears over and over again.

Well that day our ears were getting boxed in, over and over and over…

My wife started the day stressed and emotional, on the verge of crying and screaming for no apparent reason. It’s easy to chalk this up to “lady problems,” but you do so at your own peril. I woke up from a really rough night of sleep feeling that I had only gotten about a 20-minute nap, depressed and lethargic.

And to cap it all off, our little baby girl refused to nap at all until after 5pm that day, and by then she was a horrible cranky mess who chose not to share with anyone her precious smiling eyes.

There was no external stimulus that pushed us all toward this funk, and there was nothing on which to put the blame for it, at least not that we could identify.

We went through the day like this, basically just going through the motions trying to keep ourselves together. That night, while in bed, our little girl was finally contentedly nestled up against her mom’s chest. I leaned over her and smiled, trying to get her to laugh, but instead she winced, puckered, and started crying.

This actually hurt my feelings.

Rather than being an adult, though, and taking this snub for exactly what it was (just a baby being a baby), I took it personally. I knew I was reacting inappropriately, but the little voice that was telling me to grow the hell up! was fighting against the droning, raucous shrill of our off-kilter home vibes. Instead of kissing my girl goodnight and leaving her be in her mommy’s arms, I flopped over onto my side, my back to the daughter who had just so coldly shunned me, and scooted as far away as the edge of the bed would allow.

I actually had a tantrum, staying like this until I fell asleep.

Just as suddenly as this funk had come over our home, it departed. We woke up the next morning feeling remarkably okay. Everything was normal. Nothing was slightly left or right of center. The air stopped boxing our ears and the chaos of the discordant chords subsided, the harmony returning to our home.

We do not know what tipped that first domino that knocked the rest of us over. We may never understand what makes this sort of thing happen. I guess, when all is said and done, we don’t really need to understand why we are sometimes all a little “off,” it just matters how we react.

I, of course, failed miserably in my reaction. You don’t take it personally when your 4 month-old baby cries instead of laughs. That’s ridiculous. You act like an adult and bitch about it on Facebook.

That’s where that stuff goes, right? Facebook?

Anyway. If there is a moral to this story, it’s this: try to remember that everyone around you has a head full of dreams and ideas just like you do, and all of them are be-bopping along to their own subsonic music of the soul. If you feel like you’re playing out of tune, fix yourself before you bring the whole orchestra down with you.

And if you see someone out of tune, give them a pitch to match. Smile. Say “good morning,” or “god bless you,” or something to that effect. Be a conductor, don’t be a critic.

If you don’t know how to fix yourself or find it hard to smile, then in the very least don’t throw a fit when your infant daughter hurts your feelings. You’re better than that.

image lifted from THIS ARTICLE written by Paul Philips. Not sure where he got it…

The Dreaded 4-Month Sleep Regression

As I sit on the floor of my daughters room, letting her cry a little bit while she tries to learn to put herself to sleep, I can’t even think about writing anything else this week other than this. The 4-month sleep regression, or as I like to call it “death by sleep deprivation”. I may or may not also be crying.

Before we had our sweet little lady, if you’d asked me how I hoped to approach sleep with her, I would have told you that I definitely wanted to sleep train. I was all judgy about people who didn’t have a strict schedule and let their babies “run shit” for lack of a better term. I’d clearly never had a baby, because I didn’t realize that they kind of run shit, anyway. I’m very type A and I like things to be a certain way, organized, and predictable. Ha! I had another thing coming. 

The moment we had Wren Marí, everything changed. I became this incredibly lax mom that has followed a very baby-led lifestyle for the last 4 months. I immediately ditched  all the research I’d done in preparation of becoming the “perfect mom” and just did what felt natural and right for our family and little girl. For us, “right” has been nursing on demand, napping generally whenever she seemed tired (usually 1-1.5 hours wake time between naps), and bed sharing. Both my husband and I have been in total agreement that this is what’s best for our daughter and for us. It’s actually been going swimmingly and she’s been a very joyful & easy baby. 

Until about a week ago. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still a happy girl & the light of our lives, but mom life has gotten real. Real fast. Nursing her to sleep and then laying her in her crib for a nap have become a thing of the past. She suddenly started popping right up the moment I tried to lay her down. She started fighting nap time, taking sometimes an hour or more to soothe to sleep. She’s only napping for about 10-15 minutes at a time and sleeping in hour-long increments throughout the night. This makes for a sleep-deprived mom & baby. I think the only decent naps we’ve had have been during walks when I wear her in our Tula baby carrier. It’s truly crossed my mind to go for an hour long walk every single time she needs a nap. See? I’m clearly losing it from lack of sleep.

Mind you, this has only been going on for a few days… But it has made me question everything I’ve been doing as a mom. Did I make a mistake following my baby’s lead? Should I have been sleep training and letting her cry it out? Should I have had her on a clear schedule? Would this all be easier if I had done things differently? 

By nature, I’m a researcher, so I’ve read all about both sides of the spectrum on sleep training and everything in between. To (over) simplify it, many proponents of the “no-cry” method suggest that letting your baby cry it out is teaching them that mom and dad will not come if they need them and will lead to attachment problems later in life. The sleep-training model suggests that letting them cry will teach them to soothe themselves to sleep and that letting them cry during this time is not ignoring a need, it’s ignoring a want. Research aside, my natural inclination is in support of no-cry. I want Wren to know that we will come anytime she needs us and feel that we should respond when she cries (real cries, not just fusses) regardless of the cause.

In the last couple of days, I’ve also been reading a lot about this huge change that happens for babies around 4 months. They make huge developmental leaps and their sleeping abilities change as well. I won’t go in depth, but I thought *this* site had great information if you’d like to read more. Basically, around 4 months- babies stop sleeping like babies. They can no longer fall asleep anywhere at anytime. They stop sleeping in a constant deep sleep and start cycling through light and deep sleep and are easily awoken. Often, they will wake up just because they are in the “light” part of their sleep cycle and don’t know how to put themselves back to sleep. Hence the 10-15 minute naps we’ve been having. 

It’s incredibly comforting to just know that this is a normal developmental stage for our little nugget and even exciting to know that she’s meeting her milestones like a rockstar, but it also means that we have to make some adjustments that account for her current developmental stage. This “sleep-regression” is not a short phase that will pass on its own, rather it is a permanent change in sleep as our baby girls brain matures. We need to find the best way to help her learn how to sleep again in a way that is appropriate for her age while still following our maternal and paternal instincts as to what’s best for our girl. I think some experimenting is in order.

I wish I was ending this post with some miraculous solution for other moms and dads out there. But I’m not. I’m ending this post after picking my daughter up out of her crib because I couldn’t stand to let her cry & letting her nurse and nap in my lap while I typed this on my phone. I haven’t gotten anything done, haven’t showered or had lunch, have a to-do list that’s growing faster than I can check things off, but my mommy heart is happy. I hope that I’m able to separate my motherly instincts from MY emotional wants & find the right way to move forward for Wren. This is just one of many hurdles we will face and I honestly don’t know how we’ll decide to handle this. But I do know that we’ll only grow stronger as a family for moving through it and that literally everything we do is out of the deepest love for our baby bird. 

Have you dealt with the 4 month sleep regression? How did you get through it? What worked and didn’t work for you? We would love to hear your experiences!

Breastfeeding: The Brussel Sprouts of Public Consumption

I think I’ll start my “side of the bed” on breastfeeding in public with a little story. This story does not belong to me, but belongs to a close friend who gave me permission to share it. I can’t imagine the way she must have felt in this situation because to say I was enraged to hear this would be putting it gently. For the purpose of anonymity, we will call this person B (and no, that is not the first letter of her name. C’mon guys).

B is a first time mom with a happy, healthy, adorable, exclusively breastfed baby. She was heading out of town to visit family and was traveling alone. This means she packed up and made the long drive to the Atlanta airport, unpacked all their stuff from the car, checked in, & headed for security, all with a 6-or-so month-old baby in tow. That alone should have won her a gold medal in my opinion.

So naturally, since it’s been about 3 hours since the baby last ate, he is hungry. B is stuck in the ridiculous marathon of a security line, which is miserable for anyone, and the baby is screaming because he’s hungry. B is fumbling around with her bag, the baby’s diaper bag, carseat, and obviously, the baby. She starts to nurse him because that’s what you do with hungry babies- you feed them. You can’t explain to an infant that they just need to hold on for 45 more minutes while you drudge through this long ass line. That’s not how it works. You just feed the them.

As she has just finished getting the baby latched and he’s finally happily eating away, an airport employee approaches her and tells her she cannot nurse him there. WHAT! Is that even allowed?? He tells her that she must wait to get through security and use one of the new “nursing stations” that the airport has in a few of their terminals. So she obliges & stops feeding her (hungry) infant and continues to struggle through the line until she can finally get to a “nursing station” about an hour later.

There are so many things to say here.

First- I just want to preface any further discussion by saying that I have been around B nursing her baby many times and you can never see any part of her breast. Not that it would be inappropriate in any way even if you could, but with a nursing tank top on and a loose shirt over it, there is literally no skin showing while the baby nurses. You’re bound to see more skin & boobage from teenage girls or desperate cougars walking around the airport than you are a nursing mama.

Next, while I commend Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta Airport for *trying* to be nursing friendly by adding “nursing stations”, I think it’s safe to say they failed nursing moms & babies in a huge way. First of all, the “nursing stations” are tiny, claustrophobic, porta-potty-like bubbles. B described it as having bright florescent lights with the nice feel of a quarantine room. Not exactly the ideal atmosphere to settle down and feed your baby. Secondly, if installing a handful of “nursing stations” means that we can no longer breastfeed anywhere else in the airport, then this move was clearly made to appease those who are uncomfortable with breastfeeding, NOT to support breastfeeding mothers. Nice try, though. Really.

Beyond all of this, though, is a much bigger issue. Why is breastfeeding in public taboo? Literally everyone else eats in public. I can see your food while you eat. If you’re eating brussel sprouts (which ARE actually disgusting & I don’t want to see them), you’re still not going to hide under a sheet or go eat in a bathroom stall, are you? No, no you’re not. And breastfeeding moms & babies shouldn’t have to either. If you see a nursing mama, rather than being uncomfortable about heaven-forbid seeing a little breast, see the mother that is doing what is undoubtedly the best thing for her child.

Breastfeeding is a beautiful, natural thing that has been around since the beginning of human existence. It is indisputably the best, most perfect nourishment for our little humans & is something that should be celebrated and encouraged. It’s a hard enough world out there with very many real social issues that need to be addressed. Let’s focus on those leave our babies to eat in peace.

Cheers to the booby milk.

*Cartoon image borrowed from www.momcomic.com