When DS was a newborn, we were getting up every 2-3 hours to feed him. I'm a night-person, so I took the 10:00pm-3:00am shift & DH took the 3:00 - 6:00am shift. I would get the boy into clean clothes, (he was quite the spitter), strap on an extra-heavy bib, strap on the Boppy (one of the best inventions known to mankind), plop my ass down on the $550 rocker/glider (worth EVERY cent!) & turn on Bare Naked Ladies "Stunt". Not exactly lullaby music, but the boy didn't seem to mind. Then I'd feed him, which he greedily ate, then he'd cry. I'd try to burp him (which never worked, no matter how hard I dared to wack, rub, or change positions). He'd then spit up a great portion of the feeding, then go to sleep. I remember fighting with his doctor numerous times about the spitting up. First she wanted us to change him to soy, which he wouldn't eat. Then she said to do smaller feedings/slowing him down. I switched formulas numerous times. Nothing seemed to work. He didn't outgrow the spitting up until he was on rice cereal. 90% of his early baby pictures show him with a bib on. He was always wearing one much to the annoyance of his daycare. They got tired of cleaning the carpet, I'm sure. Everyone was telling me that the level of spitting up was not normal.
Of course, this problem was the least of it, since I was still worried about him being microcephalic. I'd hold my breath at every doctors appointment when they measured his head. I was scared shitless. So far so good, but I never let my guard down until he turned 1, just in case.
When I whined enough about the spitting up, the doctor reluctantly ordered that barium-swallow test to see if something was wrong. I remember sobbing while they performed the test. DS was screaming while it took 4 men to hold him down to get that white, chalky liquid down his throat. It was everywhere from his thrashing. The doctors found nothing wrong, but I still don't know what upset him so much about the formula. Some nights he just cried & cried. Finally in desperation, I turned him on his side and rubbed vigorously. This seemed to calm him down. As a parent, there's nothing worse in this world than not being able to comfort your child.
Anyway, after spitting up, I'd lock the rocker into a slight lean backwards, make sure the boy was securely on the Boppy, and then snooze a bit. Usually I'd wake up-afraid I'd drop the kid, but I never did. At the precise stroke of 3:00am, I'd place the boy in his crib, stagger back to bed, remove the baby monitor from under my pillow (hint: this amplifies the sound for me, but lets my hubby sleep in peace), and Place It Right Next To Hubby's Head. I love my boy more than life, but dammit, I need at least a few hours of sleep. At the time we were both working, so it made sense to share the duties. Did I mention my DH is the BEST DADDY EVER? He does SO MUCH for DS - from staying with me for my 10 day hospital stay before/after DS was born, to tonight - putting the boy to bed even though he was really really tired. Thanks, honey.
Once DS started sleeping more than 3 hours at a stretch, he would sometimes get off schedule or cry, so we'd go into his room to see what was needed. We were so sleep-deprived that one wouldn't realize the other had already stumbled into his room. Many nights, DH and I would literally scare each other in the dark, going to & from DS's room. I'm sure the neighbors wondered who kept screaming in the middle of the night! Yep, it was both of us.
When DS's cry would hit a certain pitch, our dog Louie would yowl. Was he disturbed or commiserating? To this day, if DS is upstairs making noise or crying, Louie will walk over to the stairs & look up to see what's going on. He always looks vaguely concerned. (as pugs sometimes do). Our older pug, Caesar, could not have cared less about the boy. I think our nightly activities with the boy kept him awake, so he was frequently sleepy pug during the day. As a "first child", Caesar was probably resentful of the intruder taking so much of our time.
I have a great picture of the day we brought DS home from the hospital and introducing him to the dogs. DS is in his bassinet, crying - arms outstretched, and Caesar has climbed up on the chair next to him, warily leaning in to sniff at that screechy-thing, but not daring to lean enough, lest he fall in with it. It's a classic picture. I don't think I have it scanned yet, or I'd post it here.
Ah, I found the picture -
I remember bringing DS home from the hospital at 4 days old. My long-suffering DH was probably just happy to be sleeping in a bed, not a hospital chair. He ended up going back to work after 1 week because he stayed with me in the hospital before DS was born, and the 4 days afterwards. I remember him telling me he was returning to work & I freaked out "what do I do with this baby"? and "why would the hospital LET ME take him home?!" I knew next to nothing about babies. Didn't grow up around them, only babysat 1 or 2 as a teen, never changed a diaper, and had no interest in them as an adult. What responsible person would consider me fit to take him home with no supervision? For God's sake, I had my son the day I was signed up for parenting classes!! Once I was home for a few days with him, none of this was a problem. Most of the time I knew what to do, & didn't need a lot of help. I didn't want my relatives helping me - even after having the C-section. I was fine - sore but fine - and really didn't need anything but sleep & a Diet Coke. Not in that order, either.
Once I went back to work after 4 months, it was a shock. I felt so bad leaving DS at daycare. I knew I picked a good center, but still. I could log onto the daycare's site & watch live cameras record the room & kids. It was easy to tell which was my son. The kid with the bib on. I didn't mind the concept of daycare, but not full-time. After a few months, my Mom offered to take him on Tues/Thursdays, so at least he wasn't there 5 days a week. When DS got sick, it was tougher. DH & I would take 1/2 days at work, or have to call on a parent to come sit with him. DH & I would play the game of which of us had a "More Important Thing Going On At Work Today So I CAN'T Stay Home w/Sick Kid" routine. Not really fair to call on the Grandparents at the last minute, plus I didn't want them to get sick. I was determined to figure out a way to stay home full time. Finally we payed off some bills, when DS turned 14 months old, I quit my job to take care of him. It's been great, boring, stressful, lonely, BUT worth it. I know my child is better off with me most of the time, no matter how great his daycare center was. I feel really fortunate to have the chance to quit my job. Many people aren't as lucky to have an option. They have to work, or need to work to be fulfilled & not grumpy-mom. I try not to judge these people. They're doing what they need to. There are many days where I'm so freakin' bored, I really really wish I had a part time job. In the best possible world, I'd like to work 2 days a week, but finding these options hasn't been successful or easy.
True confession: I was very excited at starting our adoption paperwork - I went out to Staples and bought out the office supplies. Multi-colored paper clips, binder clips, stacking trays, labels, file-folders, binders! ( I even scrapbooked my binder that has the instructions for completing the dossier/home study and every page is in a clear plastic sleeve to stay nice & pretty). This is how starved I was for something constructive to do that didn't involve The Wiggles or Play-Doh. I DO love paperwork, filing, and general office duties, though. Yeah, I'm weird.
It's really really late now & I need to at least attempt sleep tonight/this morning. Rest well everyone.
1 comment:
I loved reading that. Its nice to hear real stories from parents
Amy
4/23/07
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