Owl and Leaf

I have a ton of unfinished posts but it's hard to type with one hand and Eleanor knows when I'm not paying 100% attention to her.

I'm tired and overwhelmed but happy and hopeful.

Eleanor is one month old today. Part of me thinks it went fast, part of me feels like it has been a lifetime!

Eleanor is now 9lbs 15oz and 21 3/4 inches.

She is getting more alert as she grows which is great. I have so much more to say and I am way behind on my blog reading, and everything else for that matter, but this little one is calling. Or rather the unlady-like sounds from the diaper area are calling.

Stick around because I will be able to post more soon- I just know it! In the meantime, cute photos...

Last February 25 was the worst day of my life. Stella died in her father's arms while we watched on helpless and hopeless.


Today we have a candle lit for her and are remembering her all day.

It was cold and rainy last year.

It's cold and rainy this year.

Last year our arms were empty and our hearts were heavy.

This year my little Moon is one month old.

We are still sad and will always have the heaviness in our hearts. But this year and for years to come our arms will be heavy.

I'm at a loss for words. And not just because I didn't have a great sleep night last night. Being a parent is hard work. I am analyzing everything I do for Eleanor and for myself. After getting over the initial hump with breastfeeding, I now analyze pumping and when I should do it and when should I try to offer her a bottle. I analyze if I'm feeding her enough or too much. I analyze my morning cup of coffee and if it's giving her gas and if it's the gas that makes her shriek from her sound sleep. I guess this is just the beginning of the analysis and worry.

Things have been better mentally for me. That first week and then the time in the hospital was bad, really bad. At one point R asked me if I felt like harming myself or Eleanor. I didn't but it was all I could do to eat or get out of bed. The reason I did was Eleanor. Feeling better made Stella's birthday easier. We didn't really do anything special. We just thought of her and the day last year when everything changed. We cried a lot. I couldn't look through her photos or go into her bin. The last time I did it was too hard. Instead I wore my owl locket and cried into Eleanor's hair.

Part of me wishes we had done something- a cake, a candle, a special trip. We thought about going for a drive out to where we got married but Eleanor is a little too small and it's a little too cold. And I feel like one year is too hard. It takes me a while to get used to things, to adjust. Like when I started high school I wanted to do activities but I wanted until my second year to pick what I wanted to do. Same with college. Same with life. It takes me a while to figure things out in my slow brain. Stella will never be forgotten and she was remembered by those who truly are important in our lives. And she lives on in Eleanor Moon. Taking care of Eleanor was my gift to Stella.

Now we wait for the 25th. My sister made a candle we'll keep lit all day in the Jewish tradition to remember the death of a loved one. And it will be Eleanor's one month birthday. Stella will always live on in Eleanor. The funny thing is I didn't see a strong resemblance between the two of them when Eleanor was born but as I sit here next to Eleanor and look up at Stella's photo on the bookcase, I do. Same nose, same chin, same forehead, same amount of hair.

You know, speaking of those who remembered Stella on the 13th. R and I are not religious but we try to have a kind of spirituality. R was reading Tricycle magazine the other day and read aloud a part that sticks with me:

If you're out watering your flower garden by hand, you naturally concentrate the flow of water to benefit your beautiful flowers. If there's an area of weeds, you don't waste water there. [...} You can learn to selectively water the positive seeds and flowers in you by attending to them. There are enough weeds. You don't have to encourage them.

I also take this to mean that the people in your life are flowers or weeds. Why spend time watering the weeds?

One year ago today my beautiful, perfect daughter was born and rushed away in an ambulance. It was the best and second worst day of my life.

Today is a sad and hopeful day.

It's been awhile since I posted and I feel like a lifetime has passed since those first few crazy, painful, days. Things are still crazy. I am still nursing and it is getting easier, except that E seems to be going through a growth spurt perhaps and suddenly wants to eat almost hourly. Talk about sore nipples again and exhaustion.

But anything back to normal is good because we spent this past week in the hospital. I noticed last Sunday that E wasn't eating as well as she usually did. She was so congested she would latch on, pull off-ouch!, and then start all over again just to fall asleep after 5 minutes. She was very sleepy when she was just starting to have awake times. And the ever present diaper analysis was that there weren't as many. I felt like a crazy first time mom and called the doctor and they told me to bring her in Monday because of her age. I thought I was going to feel like a fool because she has a little cold and there's nothing to do. Well, we brought her to the doctor and they did a test for RSV and it came back positive. I guess RSV is a cold virus that in normal people isn't so bad but in a 2 week old, it can be very bad. They put on an oximeter to test her oxygen levels and weren't happy with the results. E's doctor said they wanted her to go to the hospital. We said okay we'd stop by the house and get some things and go to the hospital. He said "no, she has to go now by ambulance." Cue the freakout!

Almost a year after R went in an ambulance to Boston with Stella, I got in an ambulance with Eleanor. She spent the night in the NICU on oxygen. Luckily she never had to get an IV. They tried before she went in the ambulance but couldn't get it in. Once she had the oxygen she went back to being a great eater. R and I spent the night in the horrible parents' room and I went back and forth to feed her and sleep. She was moved to a regular room the next day but, honestly, it was almost worse than being in the NICU. We had to share a room with another sick baby and his equally sick parents-yuck! R couldn't stay in the room and we weren't allowed to keep the sleep room so I had to sleep on the chair-turned-cot with strangers while my 2 week old baby was on oxygen. I almost lost it. I did lose it a little. I cried and freaked out quite a bit but held it together for E.

The criteria for her release was to be off oxygen and keep her oxygen levels up. I know all too well the readings on those monitors and was watching them like a hawk. She failed twice on being off the oxygen. The third time they tried I was alseep, or more passed out, and when I came to to feed her I noticed she was off. This was overnight on Wednesday. Thursday they told us she passed and could go home. I don't think I have felt so giddy in a long time. R had gone home and was on his way in so I called and I could hear the relief in his voice too. I think we were possibly more happy to bring her home from the hospital this time than when she was born!

All is still good. She is a lot less congested and feeding better. Except for wanting to eat all the time. Her newest thing though is crying. Sigh.

I have to admit adjusting to life with a baby has been hard, very, very hard. Every day gets a little better but it has not been an easy week for me. Eleanor's first day was great. She was alert for a while and then slept away the afternoon. She was a champion nurser. She has the world's most powerful suck for sure. My mom came and met her and we just full of joy and disbelief. It was all so easy. Then overnight it happened that Eleanor started to want to nurse more...a lot more.

On Wednesday my sister came and some friends. We didn't get the sleep we needed. We were still on the high. R went home for a bit to pick up a few things, namely his ukulele, because there was more snow forecasted and he would definitely not be able to go anywhere at night.


Wednesday night came and we got tired but Eleanor did not. She wanted to be fed. She would nurse for 40 minutes, then conk out for 30 minutes and be ready for the next round of 40 minute nursing. I knew that nursing wasn't going to be easy. I heard it takes practice and patience and it hurts at first. Did it ever! On Wednesday I was exhausted, with painful nipples, and a baby who wouldn't leave them alone. By Wednesday night I was in tears. I was getting so frustrated with each feeding because Eleanor would be shrieking and it hurt when she chomped down. I was tired and overwhelmed. The feelings of the past two days caught up with me and I started sobbing. The nurse that night was super nice and, even though we really didn't want to at first, convinced us to let her take Eleanor to the nursery for a bit so we could sleep. When R didn't protest I knew it was the right thing to do. They gave her a pacifier, which I didn't want to give her but it worked wonders. I was afraid she would immediately get addicted and we'd have a 3 year old with a binky problem. So far, it hasn't happened. Most of the time she doesn't want it now.


Anyway, on Thursday we went home. It was shocking to me that they really just let you leave. You have a 2 day old baby and they check your car seat and say good-luck! We made it home okay and showed Eleanor her room and the house. We pretty much then settled in. It was emotional. I wished so much that Stella had been home.

But the nursing was getting worse. I was getting even more frustrated and so was Eleanor. At one point she chomped down so hard on my nipple that I immediately started sobbing. R came and held her and quieted her down while I wailed.

I want to like breastfeeding. I want to feel the connection with her while we sit quietly and I feed her. In my head I know it's best for her and I want to give her what's best. In my heart, I want to enjoy time with her without having that pain and frustration. I want to be able to sleep more to enjoy her and talk to her and sing to her.

The first few days R was overjoyed (he still is, of course). I would hear him talk on the phone with family and friends and he was over the moon. I felt awful.  Not to mention I picked up a cold at the hospital so I was congested, blowing my nose all night. I didn't feel like kissing Eleanor or touching her. I was afraid I would get her sick. I would hear R's voice just loving on her and singing to her and dancing with her and I was seriously depressed. It was all I could do to eat. I was a mess. I cried almost constantly. I still don't feel 100% good but I'm getting better.

On Friday we went to our pediatrician because ours wasn't able to come to the hospital before we left. It was a reassuring visit. Eleanor had gained back a couple ounces since the day before so the doctor assured us that even though the nursing was hard, it was working. We talked in length about maybe doing a combo nursing and formula. I got the number of a local lactation consultant and I actually had her out Friday afternoon.

I know it's their job to keep people breastfeeding and I could definitely feel that. She told me that in the 4-5 day range after birth is often a low point for people. If I could stick out each feeding then I got closer to developing the right milk supply. Then I could make the decision to switch back and forth and not have to worry about my milk not being enough. I was worried I would regret stopping and she told me I might regret it. The longer I stick it out, the better.

So here I am a week after that and I am still going. I dream about passing her to R for a feeding and me sleeping and feeling much, much better. It doesn't hurt quite so much anymore, except for the few seconds of latch on. But I hate the leaking and the sweating and the constant sitting. I figured if I feed for about 30 minutes at a time, plus a few minutes for setting up and finishing up, and getting her ready for sleep it's like almost an hour each time. Multiple that by 8-10 times a day. That's 10 hours a day I am sitting and feeding her.

I feel like I sound like such a jerk. I feel like a jerk for feeling this way. I would relish the time back with Stella. I think of the lost hours I could have spent with her. But I can't deny how I feel now.

More to come soon. It's amazing how fast the time goes between feedings. Wow.

Alice keeping my boppy warm

First things first, the birth story. What a story it is!

So, as we all know I was scheduled for a c-section on Tuesday, January 25 at 10am. Well, I woke around midnight on Tuesday feeling contractions. They weren't much of anything so I could pretty much sleep right through them. By 2:30am I was feeling them regularly and thought maybe I should time them. So between 2:30 and 4:00am I timed the contractions which were generally 5-7 minutes apart and getting stronger. Around 4am I woke up Rob and told him what was happening. We laid in bed for a while because, honestly, my contractions went for days with Stella. About 4:30am I called the doctor and she said to come in the hospital early. They could check me out and maybe do the section early. So I took a quick shower while R packed up the rest of our bags. Of course we weren't ready because we weren't supposed to be going to the hospital until 8am!

And the "dusting" of snow we were supposed to get turned out to be a few inches which we drove the 20 miles to the hospital in. Nothing like having contractions while driving through a snow storm! We got there around 6:00ish. They checked me in and the contractions were getting stronger and stronger. Then they checked me and I was 1 centimeter dilated. I laid in bed in agony debating getting a painkiller. The trouble was they were offering me the only painkiller I got during Stella's delivery so I was terrified to use it again. Well, I didn't have to debate long because they decided to put me in a room to prep for surgery and when they checked me again-just one hour later-I was 8 centimeters dilated!

Obviously I was in pain for real at this point and I was afraid that I would miss the time to get an epidural. I kept thinking about how I couldn't have this baby completely natural. It would break me! The anesthesiologist was in a c-section and couldn't come right away. I was willing my body to wait and slow down. He finally came and it must have been about 8:15 at this point. It was agony to sit up and get the epidural and I was worried it wouldn;t work but after a few minutes I started to feel the contractions get less intense. The pressure was still there and uncomfortable but I felt like I could get through it.

They moved us to the OR even though I was at that point 9 1/2 centimeters. They kept telling us this baby may come before they can do a c-section. They told us that the monitors showed everything was fine and with the quick labor it should be a quick time of pushing. R told the doctors and nurses that last time the same thing was said to us and I pushed for almost 3 hours and then our baby wasn't breathing after it all.  I have to say that everyone in the OR was great (our OB, by the way, never made it the birth because of the snow and the timing) and the doctors and nurses, which there must have been about 8 in total in there, were all very patient and kind with us. They told us that they'd like me to try pushing and if it went anywhere close to an hour, which they doubted it would, they would reconsider the c-section. We agreed and then they told me to start pushing. I pushed through 3 contractions and I could feel her head right there. I was brought back to pushing with Stella because I felt like I had that "right there" feeling for a long time. With the next push, Eleanor was born! She started crying immediately!

It was amazing. R was crying, I was crying, Eleanor was crying, I think some of the doctors and nurses were crying. They held her up and R said " it's a girl"! They put her on my chest and she was all warm and gooey and crying and just beautiful. She scored 9 on both her Apgars. The pediatrician team cleaned her up a little and handed her over to R. We had asked that a NICU team be there, just in case, and Eleanor came so fast they didn't make it there either. Turns out we didn't need them after all.



So, with contractions starting at midnight, Eleanor was born at 9:10am. I think I pushed for maybe 20 minutes. We were back in the recovery room within an hour and Eleanor was nursing.





It wasn't what I originally wanted but I'm glad it happened the way it did. She was destined to come on January 25! I still think I couldn't have planned the vaginal delivery; it would have been too stressful. But my recovery has been easy. I can't imagine having to recover from surgery and take care of a baby. More to come on that soon though!

Eleanor Moon is one week old today and it's amazing how much she's changed already. She's beautiful and amazing and I can't believe how much I love her. It's been a long week. It feels like a lifetime and the blink of an eye all at once.

I want to write more about how overwhelming it has all been but that'll have to be another day because it's time for a feeding, again, already!