It's... wonderful.

Parenthood, that is.
For every blissful day, there are 3 sleepless nights leaving mom and dad d-r-a-g-g-i-n-g.
Yesterday we went to the Science Museum (located right here in Richmond). I brought the camera but didn't take any photos 'cause, frankly, it sucked. When you live in the state capital... which is located right next to our nation's capital... you notice that people just don't bother to put anything cool in your city. Cool bands, exciting events, amazing museums and traveling shows always hit DC over Richmond. Its only 100 miles north of us. Its sad, too, because our Science Museum is located in the main train station from the very early 1900's—a very cool building. But the poor graphics, hand-me-down displays, outdated tutorials and dim lighting made me feel like we attended someone's basement hobby. I dragged Rob & Evie through every inch of that place for over 2hrs for two reasons: to ensure I never bother to attend again after seeing it all during this trip and to STAY OUT OF THE HOUSE! I'm so housebound...
We are trying to switch up Evie's sleep cycle to more closely match those of a HUMAN BEING and not a BAT. After aggressively waking & keeping her awake the day before yesterday... we left ourselves with a real hodge-podge feeding schedule (yes, hodge-podge). So, the morning before the museum I think she ate every 2-3 hours instead of her old every 4 hr routine. Getting out of the house with her fed, happy and alert was virtually impossible. So, we settled for fed and happy. When we got to the museum, she was in and out of sleep the whole time. Evie was not happy with this at all.
Evie was so unhappy with our manipulations that it resulted in her crying regularly all evening long. She couldn't be consoled. She would eagerly take the pacifier to soothe herself, roll her eyes back into her head and then drop the pacifier within 10 minutes... crying. What does one do in this instance?
After we each had a beer and dad moved onto mixed drinks, I tried nursing her (yes, I waited 2 hrs before nursing). The problem with the nursing/formula feedings that I am doing is that I have NO IDEA what she is getting when nursing. Within the hour, she was acting hungry again. She took maybe 2-3 oz more of formula after fussing for more to eat. She was challenging to get down but finally crashed out by 7PM. BUT, we had to wake her at 9PM to keep up with getting her on our sleep schedule. One that doesn't leave mom feeling like a zombie bitch and one that doesn't leave dad throwing things while contemplating if he really does want to be a "family man".
Evie had nothing to do with being up at 9PM. A forced 2.5oz later, she went down. Hell, she was never up and ate in her sleep if you ask me.
She is SUPPOSED to then wake between 1-2AM, eat, and then wake up at 6:30AM to be nursed.
She ACTUALLY woke at 1AM, ate, and then woke up at 4AM. We pulled her into bed with us and tried to coax her back to sleep. Around 5:30AM, Rob was about to walk out on us. Walk out on me for being so pig-headed as to try to get a schedule to adhere and walk out on Evie for the consistent grumbling, kicking and gurgling (she tends to grunt the last few hours of the night. She isn't quite awake but probably wants to be. She tends to leave her eyes tightly shut and just kind of squirms until we pick her up signaling its time to get up. She's done this since birth). I stomp my feet into the kitchen to make a bottle of formula (keep in mind, I have always nursed at 6:30AM). I feed her lying down in bed and she sucks down 5oz. I burp her—nothing. I lay her down and *brap!*, she gets sick all over. Now we are really going to scream. In fact, I do have a meltdown.
Dad takes baby to change her while I huff in circles around the house. I want to go back to bed and yet don't want to dump all this on Rob. Then again, I do want to dump all this on him cause I can't handle it this morning.
Rob picks her up to put her down again. *brap!*, all over herself AND him.
*Fwap!*, Rob throws his shirt against the wall and begins to change her outfit again. I get up to do laundry... trying to "help".
We realize she is just up for the day and Rob goes in the living room to watch TV with her. Its 6AM.
I lie in bed unable to sleep from shear exhaustion coupled with a hot brain.
Around 7:15AM I hear her crying. She had fallen asleep but was up again.
I get up to pump (cause I didn't get to nurse at 6:30AM. 4oz, not bad. Maybe I can occasionally still supplement formula with breastmilk afterall. I'm thinking of this as the equivalent of a $5 coupon off a can of formula). Evie is having nothing to do with sleeping. She had fallen asleep on Rob's chest but was now up, again. We tried laying her in her crib from 7:30-8:15AM. She wanted to sleep - she is so tired. But would spit out the pacifier and wail. I finally went in to rock her to sleep. It was difficult but finally worked. She cried again at 9AM. What. the. hell?!.
Rob warms a bottle cause we do not know what else to do. I get her medication ready and we go in their armed to find out what she needs. Get this, she's out cold.
*sigh*
Half hour later, up again! I feed her the medicine and 5oz bottle. We then play before bathing her at 11AM... cause now I am noticing she is developing excema on her one cheek and is rubbing it feverishly. The pediatrician tells me to keep it clean and free of oils (I had just finished putting baby oil all over her face before I call the doctor, hence the 11AM bathtime).
One bath and 1 hr nap later... she's up! We don't know what the hell to do. Feed her? Why not! 3 oz later and she is wanting nothing more to eat and is awake.
Why do I feel like she is newborn ALL OVER AGAIN?

8 weeks

Dear Evie,
Phew! 2 months (well, 8 weeks. You'll "offically" be 2 months in another week. Let's not get ahead of ourselves...) have flown by.
I have been working on your baby book little by little these last few weeks 'cause, let's be honest, it will never be touched once I return to work. I was entering in some details about the "things you do" at 1 month old... and I have already forgotten. My mind is cloudy - I am in a babyland fog. I can't remember when you did what or why we came up with the nickname "birdie" for you (its becuase you made chirping sounds all the time but I can't for the life of me remember wht they sounded like).
I find this forgetfulness funny and sad. Its all moving so quickly and my foggy brain is trying to protect me for realizing just how fast it is all going.
Evie getting ready to go to grandma/pa's house. 6.5 weeks.
Besides the obvious milestones you have accomplished at this point—you have succeeded in many other things worth mentioning.
First off, you are quickly becoming the chunka-chunk your mom was when she was a baby. Topping the scales at 10lbs/14oz's at last check up (Friday)... you started at a humble 7lbs/5oz's just 8 little weeks ago. You dropped a pound at first but rebounded a nearly 5lb gain in 2 months time. Holy. Moly. One would think you grew a lot during this time to justify such weight gain. Not really. You grew 2.5 inches. A modest sum.
You outgrew the cute hand-me-down onesies Duncan passed your way. No longer in the "newborn" category, you are able to wear the occasional 3-6 month variety. Yes, you are still in your 0-3 month onesies - you aren't that huge... but I am really surprised how one day it fits and the next day it doesn't. If only adult girls would relish in the joy of moving up sizes as rapidly as you are.
Grandpa and Evie You started sleeping long stretches of time when we went to visit grandma/pa last weekend. Mom and dad even got a chance to get out and watch a movie together —first time we have left you anywhere. It was a perfect weekend, really. Then we drove home (a bit of a hellish drive with filthy bathrooms to change your poopy diaper & trying to warm a bottle that ended up not being enough for you to eat). The night we got home was filled with endless crying (from all of us) as we wanted to return to the grandparent's house where everything was delightfully wonderful for 3 days.
Your long stretches of sleep slowly became long stretches of afternoon till midnight stretches. Then you'd wake up at 12AM, 3AM, 5 AM and 7 AM. As for the time in between; you would fuss for over an hour constantly dropping your pacifier. It was a rather brutal week last week. By this past weekend, after seeing the pediatrician on Friday, I decided to start waking you up (everyone keeps telling me to not wake a sleeping baby but won't tell me why) and to keep you up as long as I can during the day. It seems to be working... but I can't get you to sleep those 5 hr stretches at all anymore. It would be so wondeful if you only had 1 night feeding, but 2 isn't so bad I s'pose. Its the 10 minute cycles of fussing for your pacifier all-night-long that kills me anyway.
You went to the auto dealer with us last week and you were an angel. You hung out with daddy for hours while he fed you a bottle and then drove you around till you slept. We all slept great that night. We were all drunk with the exhaustion of negotiating all day long I guess. Maybe we need to go out and make asset draining purchases more regularly so we can all have great nights of sleep. In any case, your car seat fits in the new Jeep wonderfully and mom no longer slams her head into your car seat handle trying to fit you in & out a tight space. Its magical.
You've been mastering the silent smile these last few weeks. You open this big gappy mouth of yours in reaction to our smiles. It really DOES... melt my heart. You make this quiet breathy sound when you open your mouth, too. Its really so cute. The whole room was silent when you first did it one morning and I... was.. hooked. I keep trying to capture it on camera (a quick movie) but you give me blank stares when I put this shiny metal box into your face and then the moment is gone. I hope I never forget it if I can't capture it.
Evie discovering her gym You don't quite "play" yet. You enjoy watching. You are better at sitting on my lap and simply observing for longer & longer stretches of time. You did "see" yourself in the mirror of your activity gym 2 days ago and instantly shined. You're getting there. We just have to remember to teach you HOW to play. We are starting to pull things out each day to see what you enjoy. So far, it isn't much or for very long.
Today I tried to soak all of you in. I really tried playing my heart out with you and I held you longer than I have in awhile. You feel asleep in my arms while at a coffee shop and you feel asleep in the sling/carrier before dinner. I gave you a bath and sucked in the smell of your head after daddy calmed you down (you HATE baths). After your doctor mentioned the many things you are going to accomplish in just 8 more weeks... I am trying to slow this train down and thoroughly enjoy the things you do today (yes, even the yucky stuff like fussing or the boring stuff like staring at ceiling fans. What's with that, anyway?). Someday soon you will be a little toddler and all these baby "annoyances" will have disappeared. You'll be wanting to explore and crawl/walk away from me. You'll make huge baby food messes and you'll drool on everything. Today's mishaps will seem like a walk in the park then. I need to hold you tight now while I can before you want to kick off and play like I taught you how to do. Good thing you are teaching me... how to slow down.
Love, Mom

Breastfeeding

Well, I've made my decision. And, I STILL need to talk myself into this.
I've decided to ween Evie.
Why?
'Cause I am a horribly, horribly selfish person. I am not thinking about the benefits for Evie at all. Nor am I considering the family budget (formula is ex$pensive!). I'm not thinking about the work I have done to get myself to this state - the lactation consultant I had to go see, the mastering of the pump, the having no problems at all with Evie latching... the fact that I am a nursing master (aside from doing it in public). I am not thinking about what I should probably be thinking about in making this final of final decisions.
No. I'm thinking about... convenience.
I can't have more than 1 caffeine drink a day or its no good for baby. And sometimes, I'd like a strong cup of grande coffee after having nothing of the sort during those 9 months of pregnancy.
I want to be able to GO SOMEWHERE... anywhere... and not freak out about returning home to baby within 3 hours time. Or she'll starve. Or Rob will tap into my precious vault of 5 frozen bags of milk reserved for extreme occasions.
I want to be able to switch off with Rob for midnight feedings so at least one of us can enjoy a full night's sleep.
I want to be able to have more than 1 glass of wine after I have uncorked the bottle I am about to throw out in 3 days... 'cause I can't drink it all before it goes bad.
I want to be able to wear non-nursing friendly layered tops. Any top that I don't have to worry about dribbling on.
I want to no longer freak out about taking Evie out for the day, on a roadtrip, to a restuarant, to the store... fearing she may need to be nursed and I have to find a location to sit in for half an hour.
I want someone else to enjoy watching her eat and light up with a huge, happy smile after her belly is full. And I want me to be off continuing whatever activity it was I was doing at that time... without having to stop and feed.
I no longer want a sticky body. I no longer want to either feed or pump or suffer the consequences. I don't want to FIND somewhere to pump at my 3,000 employee establishment that, apparently, only has 1 wellness room for all pumping mothers to use one-at-a-time (and have to pump 2-3 times a day in that room on the first floor when I work on the 4th. I have to carry a big black bag down the elevator each time? I'd rather die, thank you).
I'm selfish.
I'm horrible.
I am next to tears at the thought that I am doing this.
I should be nursing cause I can. I should be nursing cause she loves it, I have no "real" problems with it, and its great for baby's health. I should be thinking of Evie's best interest and needs over my own. God, what a horrible mother I am turning out to be. And yet, I really cannot stand the thought of returning to work and pumping. I really want the freedom of not having to worry,"Can I eat this/take this/drink this while I am nursing?"
Somebody please tell me this is either the hormones making me feel so quilty or society's pressures that I am feeling.
Somebody please tell me that in 2-3 months this will all be yet another stage I have moved passed, problem-free, and that this is really a blip in the many things that await us.
Somebody please tell me that I am not a horrible, horrible person.

Mexican, Ole!

Rob and I tried to go out to dinner to a new neighborhood restaurant a few weeks ago. Evie awoke beforehand and remained terribly fussy, so we opted for a family restaurant instead.
We tried this neighborhood adventure again, last Saturday. We got dressed up (basically wore shirts with no spit-up on the shoulders) and strolled the mile out to the restuarant in mid-afternoon ('cause then there'd be less people to bother if she did cry). We arrived sweaty, thirsty and ... we were greeted by a "closed" sign. Son-uva-bitch.
We walked home and decided to throw Evie in the car to go to "Mexico" instead.
The SECOND I crossed the threshold of the restaurant, Evie pooped. Fantastic!
I carry the car seat (with Evie in it) to the bathroom and bring the diaper bag with us. There's only 1 other couple and an older guy eating in the whole establishment. I walk into the bathroom and the woman (from the other couple) is in there brushing her teeth.
"I know this is kinda gross, but I have to go to work right after this," she spits.
"Well, I have to change this kid on the counter since there's no changing station." I tell her.
"OK, that's more gross," she opens the door to leave but not before finishing, "You know, I was in this Mexican restaurant in Houston once, and this woman started breast-feeding in the middle of the place! No thank you! That's gross."
Door closes.
I look at Evie who is starting to get fussy since she's been disturbed so much. She is, ...now hungry.
"Looks like we are eating in the bathroom stall, Eve." I pick her up.
I leave the car seat on the counter and bring her & the messenger bag into the VERY TINY stall. The kind of VERY TINY stall where you can barely close the door without knocking your knees. And, since I am juggling a very flooby 6-week-old, I can't check the cleanliness of the seat before I just sit down on it. *sigh*. I really hope I didn't just sit, in my skirt, on a seat full of pee (or worse).
Evie does the red-faced grimmace (the slow... CRY! Cry! Cry! That comes when you've ignored her gentle sobs long enough). I quickly lift up my shirt and get her settled (her feet kicking against the stall door as she gulps).
I reach for my cell phone in the bag on the floor.
"Hi."
"What's going on in there?" Rob eats a chip.
"Well, it turned into a fiasco."
"I thought it might have," Rob takes a sip of a drink.
"Just get me a water and I'll be there as quick as I can."
"Take your time," *crunch*, another chip eaten.
*click*
I pop Evie off before she gets her fill, 'cause this could take up to 30 minutes after feeding on both sides, burping, etc etc. I really don't want anyone else coming in imparting their nursing "horror stories" while I dominate the stall.
Evie is agitated and I give her the pacifier ("A poor excuse for a boob, mom," she shoots me a look).
I settle in the booth and this is what I get from her. Ah, that's my girl...

(Note: the $#@*! onesie was created for me by some gal-pals during a baby shower game. even MORE appropriate given the photo's subject matter)

24 Hours, cont...

I was going to write in the "comments" field of my last post but had far too much to say to deem a comment)

We have received MANY ideas for putting Evie to sleep (yikes, that sounds a little too much like euthanasia ... we aren't quite there, yet).
I've heard the swing, white noise, vibrating anything (crib mattress or chairs), car rides and letting her sleep on your chest.
I still keep worrying that if any of these ideas DO work we'll be setting us up for disaster (like she'll ALWAYS have to have a magic vibrating bed to fall asleep). But maybe I need to let go of these notions cause they are holding me back?
I did read about some theories on colic and colic behavior yesterday in my "Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child" book. I don't know if we could truly call Evie "colic-y" but this doctor says all babies are colic-y with 20% presenting themselves as SEVERE colic. He thinks the nightime crying/fussing is a form of colic that all babies endure until the peak of 6-8 weeks old when it begins to decline. (Evie is 5 weeks and 2 days old). This, somehow, comforted me. Maybe it was knowing that I was part of a medical "norm" factor soothed me a bit.
I also called the lactation consultant last night because another one of my theories was that Evie, is in fact, starving at night and cannot sleep because she is hungry. (Thanks to C for reminding me to call her). Let me begin by telling you all that my consultant thinks I'm an idiot. No, really she does. I think she's great - she knows what she is doing and how to handle me (not a lot of professionals have the patience that I demand). And, the fact that she thinks I'm a moron doesn't bother me in the slightest - cause I AM one in the motherhood/boob-feeding department. I really do need things spelled out for me.
Linda, my consultant, had to remind me again that I need to relax, take naps, drink more fluids (hell, I drink coffee on our power walks in the 90 degree heat. I'm horrible at drinking water), and that Evie is probably doing 2 things: experiencing a growth spurt AND cluster feeding. Linda told me to stick with it - her demands will eventually get my body to make more and to just "ride out the storm". This type of night is not over... it will get better... and it will return again in the future. Just be prepared for it.
Sound advice.
I fed Evie almost every hour/ hour-and-a-half last night without wanting to leave her on the front porch with a "Take Me" sign. I, actually, felt sorry for her and I quit hating/holding it against her. I tolerated the wah-wah's and chaulked them up to it being hard for her... not that she wants to make it hard for me. This outlook REALLY did help overall and she quieted down by 10:30/10:45PM (yes, with the help of a swing, pacifier and a few close holding sessions). She then slept for 4.5 hours, ate & was awake for 1 hour, and then fell back to sleep for another 4 hours.
So, who knows. All I know is I want that 10-12 hour night sleep Meg is talking about. ;-)
Thanks everyone for the thoughts, ideas and well-wishes. It all helps me & keeps me from going completely crazy. Misery loves company even if you all are onto the next stage & no longer as miserable as me, ha!

24 hours

A called and said that it seemed, from my blog, everything was going smoother. That, in general, we seemed to be getting he hang of things and adjusting well.
I wouldn't say "smoother". I do think we are adjusting, however. Adjusting to operating on 3-4 collective hours of sleep a night, no longer being able to stick to one activity for over an hour, waking up earlier than the rest of the world because baby is WIDE AWAKE, tolerating endless hours of non-stop screaming following multiple pacifier drops, poop stripes that seep onto onesies (and you), and striping off one outfit a day due to projectile spit-ups.
Take the last 24 hours, for example:
Wake up at 6:15AM to Evie being hungry. Feed her and try to coax her back to bed just so mommy & daddy can walk amoungst the living after a horrible ALL NIGHT LONG crying fit. (Brief backstory: She had finally settled around 3AM and the 3 hours of sleep last night wasn't cutting it for us.) She did eventually go back to sleep and I woke up at 8:15AM to get ready for a "crafty brunch" at K's house.
I showered and got on make-up before the next feeding. Fed the baby again (and then pumped because I am desperately trying to create a 3oz bottle to freeze for emergency back-up & for when I return to work). Grabbed her baby book (this will have to be my "craft" at today's brunch), reloaded the diaper bag, got Evie in the carry case, grabbed some fruit I had bought for the brunch, load the car and... we're off! It is now 10:48AM. It took me nearly 3 hours to get our sh*t together.
Spent 3 and a half hours at K's. We ate once while there and we are ready for another feeding when mom decides to leave. We pooped twice and wouldn't really settle down unless held by mom. We are cute and interactive for a brief window and everything is OK (I never even opened the baby book).
Home at 2:45PM to eat and sleep. Mom naps at 4PM after fussy baby fights sleep for half an hour.
Mom wakes up at 5:15PM to make dinner, eat, and feed dogs. Baby is up at 6:30PM to eat. Feed baby. Baby is wide awake and doesn't like being idle... at all. So, we go for a walk with her in a baby carrier strapped to dad while Betty takes mom for a walk.
Storm ensues and we get home by 7:15PM.
Baby is awake after dozing on the walk. And she is... pissy. Not fussy, pissy. Time somehow elapses until 8PM when the Steelers are on... and baby is really starting up by now. I try feeding her again, this helps. But then she starts again. Dad tries consoling her while watching the game. This, doesn't a happy baby make.
By 9PM, I take Evie to the bedroom where I settle her on the bed with one dim light and no other stimulation. She cries non-stop. By 9:20PM, I try nursing her, AGAIN. This helps but then we start in with the crying, again. There's crying in between all the pacifier drops (this is like, every 10 minutes or so). Her cries aren't whimpers either. They are all out "wahs!"
By 10:30PM, mom is pissed off, too, and lets the baby scream. This, doesn't work, and begins to irritate mom. Mom sticks the pacifier in her mouth (baby sobs while sucking feverishly) and mom rocks the car seat (her bed since her "acid reflux" diagnosis) for 15 minutes. Baby sleeps. Mom stops rocking. Baby spits out pacifier and "WAHs!!!!" God. Dammit.
Mom whips out a boob - its her last defense and baby acts like she hasn't eaten in DAYS (again, its been 1 hour. The same time duration between the last 4 feedings. I have nothing but dust to offer at this point).
Evie sucks maybe 5X's in a minute... and is out cold. What... the... hell... is this? I leap for the lamp and go to sleep, too. I don't even bother telling Rob (who's on the couch). He's just going to miss out on sleep - not my fault.
Evie acually "sleeps" - she wakes 4 hours later for a feeding and then 4 hours again after that. Who-hoo!
BUT, when mom feeds baby at 6:15AM this morning (sitting up in bed propped up against her two bed pillows), Evie BLEECHS! all down the back of mom... onto her shirt, shorts, both pillows and yes, the bed. God. Dammit.
So much for "sleeping in" to make up for last nights all night long belly-aching.
Mom puts on her trainers and hikes around the neighborhood with the stroller for over an hour instead.
Another day has begun...