If I had a hammer...

Once again I am writing after a not-great night of sleep for Miss Ila. It's fortunate that since the last post here, she has pretty much slept well...but last night she woke every two hours to nurse and then stayed awake for an hour at 3:30. Not my favorite sleeping pattern, certainly. However, she got her 4 month shots yesterday, so a little sleep disturbance makes sense.

We have fully adopted the method for the middle of the night waking that involves doing nothing. Since she is very calm and quiet when she wakes up, I just let her lie there awake - comfortable, full and safe - while I try to fall back asleep (with varying degrees of success). This is, I believe what I'm "supposed" to do. You are supposed to communicate to the baby, "This is SLEEP time. We don't turn on lights, get up, talk, play, etc." I'm not sure how well that works when your child wakes up screaming or just being extremely active. But, we are blessed so far with a baby that, while occasionally still awake at some unreasonable times, generally relaxes in the bed until she falls back to sleep.

Actually, this is all easier because of one little fabulous device: the pacifier! She only started taking a pacifier last week in the midst of a bout of major fussiness. Normally, at home, moving through our regular routines, she does not scream or holler or even fuss much until it's time to take a nap. Then she whimpers a bit and, if you get her into bed quickly enough, that's it. Otherwise, she'll sometimes yell as you get her ready for sleeping. However, generally, she is calm and contented. That particular afternoon, though, she had a constant low level moan and crying thing going on. She kept trying to shove things in her mouth with even more than her usual zeal. This didn't seem to actually satisfy her, so she would then get very angry and gritchy. So I gave her the pacifier. BING! It worked! She was very happy to have it!

All this vigorous stuffing of her mouth made Kiyomi wonder if she was teething. I was incredulous mostly because I was trying to will her to teeth at 6 months...thus sparing my nipples some months of pain. But, alas, she is in fact getting her first two teeth - the two bottom front teeth. While I am sad for my nipples, I am excited to see her little teeth. She will look silly and adorable with just two tiny chompers.

Anyway, I'm excited about the pacifier. I know some folks are very anti-pacifier, which I find a bit reactionary. It's a great tool - any tool can be overused, I suppose. However, this weird categorical reaction to any helpful device is irritating. I went to a La Leche League (LLL) meeting last week. One woman brought up nipple shields because she has to use one right now. I also had to use one for two months and, while it is frustrating in some ways, it is a life saver in many. I could tell the LLL coordinators were not so thrilled by those of us piping up about using them and telling this woman not to worry - that she will be able to get rid of it when she needs to. I now know 4 people who've used them and very easily weaned the baby off of them. But, there is this paranoia that you will destroy your child's ability to latch if you use them. This is extremely unhelpful as it serves to make you more anxious, ashamed, and worried about breastfeeding - which is challenging enough at the start.

The LLL coordinators also pooh-poohed my question about not getting Ila to take a bottle. They were saying that you don't want to give your kid a bottle for the first three months because the child will not be interested in taking the breast when I asked. Okay, guess what folks, I have not yet met a child that does this. However, I am one of about 10 people I know whose child will not take a bottle because he or she prefers the breast. Yet, when I said this, the coordinators were like, "Well, it's such a short period of time that you are exclusively breastfeeding..." So, she obviously meant, just suck it up and never leave your child for more than 3-4 hours! Awesome advice, ladies, especially for working moms. Bottles are very useful, why is there this fear in a group of women obviously dedicated to breastfeeding? I mean, I get the fact that formula companies can be evil and insidious...but I'm well into breastfeeding; I love it, in fact. I'm not about to be swayed into weaning Ila before we're ready. However, I'd also love for Ila to take a freakin' bottle of my breast milk!

If I could send one message back in time to myself at the start of this, I would say use the tools that are handy and make sense for you AT THE TIME without guilt or anxiety. You can stop using them, change plans, re-evaluate as necessary as you go along. So much wasted worry about pacifiers, bottles, nipple shields.

So, we pacifier it up and love it. I can't believe how happy she is to have it. It's funny, too, because she just wouldn't take it before. I think this is a sign of maturity. She is able to identify it and remember that she likes it. Pretty cool.

She's just growing like a weed: teething, loving her pacifier...and also, more literally, growing like a weed. She's in the 97th percentile for height and weight. She's huge and on a steep growing curve. This is, really, of no consequence beyond the fact that she is healthy and thriving...but I have been thinking lately, as I look at other babies our play groups, that she IS giant. It makes me feel very aware that she is no longer a tiny baby...which, in turn, sort of makes me feel nostalgic for her tiny self. I mean, mostly I just want to try and remember when she was only 8 pounds. I'm not sure I want to go back to that level of sleeplessness and exhaustion, but I do feel very curious about what she was like then because I can't really remember. Isn't that odd? It was such a short time ago. So, I've decided today, to close out with a picture of her when she was brand new. I can't believe how little she was!

Sleeping and Waking

I was planning an entry about how sweet and moving being a mother is...then, Ila was awake last night from 3:45 to well past 5 AM. It's hard for me, at some moments during times like these, to remember that Ila is not being "bad." She's just doing something I don't particularly want her to do. In this case, she's keeping her little mole eyes open and her little limbs thrashing. I tried last night to not be overwhelmed with frustration or anxiety that this is the first step down a long road of not sleeping. I just tried to be present - Kiyomi and I lying quietly in the dark, silently willing Ila to follow our lead while hearing her little piglet grunts and mousy squeaks and feeling her little legs doing mermaid kicks on the bed. But, it's hard to be present in a present you don't like.

I feel that, in general, I am a fairly relaxed first time mom (is that an oxymoron?). I mean, I didn't know what to expect - I didn't know if I would be anxious and worried all the time. Fortunately, I am not too much of a worrier. However - and I did not anticipate this at all - I feel guilty with great frequency. When I lie Ila down to coo and gurgle and bat at her little toys while I run out to get the laundry, bring it in, fold it and put it away, I feel I'm being wildly irresponsible and a terrible parent. I feel guilty that I don't hold her enough, talk to her enough, stimulate her enough. Yesterday, for instance, I had her lying on the front bedroom bed while I tidied up in that room. The chaos of that room was driving me crazy, but I felt guilty doing it, like I should just be lying on the bed with her the whole time talking and playing - which is a pretty tame form of playing at this point in her life, mainly consisting of trying to grab and pull anything and everything to her mouth. She's happy for quite a while lying on her own - especially if I'm in the same room...but I feel guilty that I'm not - I don't know - constantly in complete attendance.

Okay, the rational side of me understands (sort of) that it's good for her to be able to amuse herself - safely and with a parent close by - for increasing amounts of time. But, I obviously don't really believe that. Maybe I feel guilty because talking and playing with a 4 month old is a little boring for me, and I'm ashamed to want to say, fold laundry or sweep the floor as a diversion. I mean, for chores to be more engaging is sort of a sad statement, no? Anyway, the guilty continues...but at least I can tell myself that all these feelings are probably totally normal...without necessarily believing it. It reminds me of one of my favorite Lydia Davis stories: "But it is curious how you can believe an idea is absolutely true and correct and yet not believe it deeply enough to act on it."

(You should read the whole thing...it's three paragraphs; the last piece on this page)

http://conjunctions.com/archives/c17-ld.htm

Despite all the not sleeping and the guilt, there are profound moments of sweetness in being a mama. The entry I was dreaming up yesterday morning was very different than today's. I was nursing Ila, lying on the bed, after her morning nap. This is a sweet time anyway, but I was particularly attuned to the lovely tenderness of seeing her little sweet face and feeling the little flutterings of her soft hands against my arms and chest. It is breathtakingly wonderful to be her mother. I feel so attached to her that I, of course, find myself ruining these thoughts with flashes of her being hit by a car or being diagnosed with childhood leukemia. Fortunately, unlike my guilt, I can fairly easily tell myself that these worries are profitless and unnecessary...and I can more easily believe myself.

Anyway, yesterday morning, I was awash in deep love feelings for Ila and it made me think about the fact that my family is not so great at being tender. I'm including my extended family on both sides. I can actually think of instances of my father being tender, more so than other adults in my young life - I think he was a pretty affectionate person when I was little. I suppose, this doesn't quite balance out the fact that he left my brother and me when we were young. Still, his earlier, sweeter actions had their effect and were important, I think.

My mother was also very physically affectionate and tender...but it was easier for my father to verbally be tender and loving. I know my mother's family much better than my father's, and I can safely say that it is very difficult for them to be tender with each other. Some interactions of the family have, in fact, made me vow to let myself love the people in my life in an unguarded, open, and expressive way...which, I acknowledge, is not always easy. However, the moments of awkward vulnerability that come along with open and affectionate expressions of care are worth it. I have had enough interactions with my mother's family to think that a lot of us could use a little more tenderness and unequivocally supportive gestures from each other.

Perhaps this is not uncommon. It is uncomfortable sometimes to really open up to those vulnerable, gushy, soft feelings like tenderness. Most of us humans may be a bit hardened. Perhaps, my family is not unique in its awkward uncomfortableness in the face of sweet, loving feelings. Whatever the case, I want, very consciously, to create a family environment for Ila that does not require protection and hardening, that allows those softer feelings of love and affection to be voiced.

Laughin' and Lickin'

Ila laughed! Neither Kiyomi nor I made her laugh - it was all our friend Deb. Kiyomi claims that Ila likes Deb because she's very close to Ila's size, which is a slight exaggeration...but only slight. Ila's beefy 17 pound body was taxing for Deb to carry around.

Needless to say, Kiyomi and I have spent the last 12 hours trying to get her to laugh again. It hasn't worked. I even had the camera in my hand, but alas I didn't capture it. How can we know it was real, if I didn't get it on video???

Yesterday was a big day. In addition to chuckling, Ila also grabbed her toes for the first time. I have been putting her toes in her hands for a few days now. She is indifferent to this and releases her foot as soon as I take my hand away. However, yesterday she spontaneously grabbed her foot without assistance!

She is definitely making some serious leaps and bounds in skill level. Quite literally, actually: she can really jolly jump now...instead of simply dangling in the doorway and aimlessly fluttering her feet, she really kicks! When she grabs things, too, she is looking less like a terrible spinal cord injury victim learning - painfully - to use her limbs again. Still her most refined skill is licking. Anything that comes near her mouth gets jabbed with her tongue quickly and repeatedly...like a little dog...or snake... As you can imagine, I am a gleaming and proud mama! Kiyomi loves to say she is so "advanced." And, perhaps in the slobbering department she is!

Cha Cha Changes

It's hard to decide what to say today – everything is all jumbled up in my head. First, I want to acknowledge that our wonderful friend and landlord, Jack Dicey, has passed away of cancer. He was a truly lovely human; he spent much of his life working with homeless folks and veterans. He was also just a funny guy who loved people and enjoyed life. It's hard to comprehend – a year ago he was, seemingly, fine. A little over a year ago, we visited him in the hospital after his last major surgery. Around this time, we told him that I was pregnant – and he told us that the doctors gave him a year or less to live. It was bizarre and sad to see him when I was pregnant. I was so antsy for the future – the birth, the infancy, the youth – of my child. Yet, the same short time that I had to wait through with eagerness and anticipation was certainly the final chapter of his life. It is so alarming, at times, how disparate our experiences are – even when they are happening concurrently. I very much regret that we didn't get to see him one last time – with Ila, would have been nice. Though, I know this grief is really for me – he is beyond any concern in the matter – I certainly would have liked to see him and say goodbye.

Perhaps this has a hand in my brain's apparent obsession with death and endings. I am still having nightmares almost nightly – usually including the death of someone I love or myself. To say, as a human, that I don't do well with change, is perhaps a cliché and not even worth expressing. But, it is true. And there is something truly dynamic about being with a child. While it is, in one way, the epitome of life to be with a little one who is discovering and growing every day, it is also to be constantly exposed to change, endings, even to death in some small, metaphorical sense. First, your notions of your own life must change and give way to others, then, every little stage of your child's life is so short.

In this vein, I wish, actually, that we had taken video earlier than we did. Ila is all about grabbing things now. She is not great with objects that are at an arm's reach away, but things that are held a little closer in, she generally successfully snatches up and brings them to her mouth. This means that I can basically hand her things now. This is so new and exciting! It's hard to remember when she wasn't even focused on objects, when she didn't gaze at you and smile, when she couldn't even bring her hands to her mouth, let alone things! It would be nice to have even just a little video from the very early weeks, just to see and remember what was, temporally, very recent and yet developmentally has completely been supplanted and erased.



As a result of being able to grab things, I think she is a bit easier to entertain...or to let her entertain herself even! We took a trip up to Flagstaff to see some of my family, and she was generally pretty happy in the car. I believe part of this is certainly related to the fact that she can suck on her own fingers or grab at her little pink pig and little bumble bee toys that hang in front of her in the car. Her sleep has been a little funny, though. She's woken up a couple times 2 or 3 times at night instead of her customary one. This too is all about change. I try not to get used or, or count on, her sleeping a certain amount or set of hours at night...yet, it is inevitable. Perhaps it is a growth spurt – perhaps even the monumental task of really being able to reach out and grab things is taxing her little system. Whatever is altering her sleep patterns, it is a lesson, once again, in how temporary and shifting everything is. I'm just not so fond of learning this lesson at midnight and then again at 2:30.

Vampire Baby

When confronted with a smiling face coming at her own, Ila opens her mouth wide and crinkles up her nose like she's going to bite it. Meet Vampire Baby. Maybe these crazy open mouth kisses, as we call them, have to do with the rooting instinct? Maybe they are just part of her overall desire to put anything of interest into her mouth? Whatever it is, it is very cute.

Happiness?

I'm not sure what prompted this, but I have been thinking back to the beginning of this whole caring for an infant thing. While talking with some other new moms, I recalled my deep desire - in the first two weeks or so - to believe in god, some god, any god. I remember catching myself praying that this would get easier - that I wouldn't dread the night, the endless cycle of short spells of sleep always followed by excruciating sessions of nipple torture. It was overwhelming at the start - the reeling, dizzy feeling that nothing could really be counted on except exhaustion and pain. I mean, sure, there were also amazing moments with the new little being, but there was also this fleeting, bizarre, fervent desire to be religious - to not only pray, but to believe something might happen as a result of the prayer...I might be granted some relief, some sense of trust in the universe that my petitions were being heard. I felt very alone, in some profound way. Kiyomi was there with me constantly - also tired and awed and completely bowled over - but I felt alone in some deeper way, like I was meeting some reckoning with a set of responsibilities that could never be shifted or altered.

Whew. That's all I have to say looking back at that. I still feel tired or overwhelmed or confused at times, but there was some kind of abject shock that I'm happy to say seems to have passed.

In its place, lately, I have been thinking about how quickly this baby stage will pass, how quickly I will grow old and all the little pleasures and pains of being a new mother will be gone. I think this has wormed its way into my subconscious because almost every night I have nightmares about - in some way or other - people I love dying or myself dying. It is all somehow anxiety about time passing, I suppose. One of the worst nightmares involved Ila having a high fever, followed by seizure, frothing of the mouth and cessation of breathing. I woke up sweating, seriously. The night before I had dreamed that my mother was dying of cancer.

The worst part about these dreams is that, when I wake up, I can't shake the belief that the dream was a presentiment, that there is some secret message about the future in the nightmare. Even if the exact events don't happen; I'm sure something horrible is coming. Recently, I have decided I probably have MS or some horrible tumor, and my mind is trying to give me hints about this through dreams and odd twitches of my body. Don't ask me to explain it; I can't. It's absurd, but I just feel like there is something wrong with me. My nightmares - which I have with some frequency - seem an indication that I am right...somehow. For some reason this is all very convincing to me, especially at 2 AM after having had a nightmare.

I've been reading The Science of Happiness and recently watched a documentary about happiness. It's fascinating - especially the fact that pleasant and unpleasant feelings are generally handled by opposite sides of our prefrontal cortex. The right side processes negative emotions and the left handles positive emotions. Some researchers have also found that people often favor one side over the other. About one third of folks have much more active positive sides of the prefrontal cortex (left), one third have more active negative sides (right) and the remainder are evenly divided between the two sides of the brain. Of course, especially after these nightmares, I assumed that I must be on the right here - that my brain rushes to worry, anxiety, fear, sadness more quickly.

I'm not sure I'm actually very objective, though. I always assume I'm in the most pathetic group. When I read, A Primate's Memoir, which describes in great detail the logistics of the social hierarchies of baboons, I immediately identified with this young sort of "second class" female baboon and her mother. I was struck, suddenly, with the realization that I was a second class baboon. These baboons were less popular in the group - meaning they were not the first pick of the finest males during mating. They, as a result of this, also didn't get to eat the best foods, have more safety in the group, etc. The less prestigious female baboons are more worried, less confident, more anxious, more indifferent as parents and less influential as members of their group.

Now, when I try to be objective, I think I am not really the mousy, pathetic, weak lower order baboon...but why am I always assuming I am? Maybe THIS is proof that I go to the right side of the emotional processors in my brain more quickly. See? I am determined to see myself as somehow crippled by negativity. Maybe I'm not actually very negative, but I am obsessed with seeing myself this way? What is that?

In all of this, I keep hoping that Ila will, of course, hang out more on the left side of this particular region of the brain. Apparently even ten-month-olds prefer one side to the other in processing emotion. The happy-go-lucky left side set are more confident, less fussy without mom, and more willing to explore and encounter new people and things. Let's hope my apparent determination to see myself as negative doesn't cripple our daughter! She has been sort of fussier lately, which is probably neither here nor there...but I am watching with some consciousness to see signs of greater tendency toward negative emotions. Probably I just need to stop thinking so much, exercise more - take the brain a little more out of the equation here.

Lisa, along with Henry and many of her family members were in town for Lisa's grandmother's funeral this weekend. The last morning they were here, we brought Ila to say goodbye to them and she was, as usual, unwilling to stand in one place. She likes to be moving around – preferably outside – and not simply standing still. She wasn't in a bad mood, but she wasn't really in an easy-going mood, either. So, we had some fun snapping pictures of her complaining faces as well as her smiles.

When she hasn't been fussing in the last week or so, Ila has been practicing getting her hands to her mouth. But, in addition to this, she now loves to put any kind of fabric that I lay across her belly into her mouth . She can't look at an object, decide to grab it and take a swing, but she can grab objects that happen to bump into her hands. So, a little tag blanket across her belly or a dangling toy that happens to touch her fingers or hands will get clutched at. Still, she's not really looking at the objects she grips. Instead, she seems to have no idea - or interest - in how they got there. It's as if the gods have just miraculously placed them in her hands for her to get to her mouth and slobber away at. She does look at objects with the obvious desire to snatch them up because she starts opening her mouth, looking intently at whatever it is, and making little noises. But, alas, her hands hang uselessly at her sides. She knows she wants to get things into her mouth - she just hasn't connected her hands to the whole effort.



Even though I don't want to, I think I feel a bit self-conscious when Ila gets crabby in public. I am trying to just relax and accept it – mainly because I don't want to be transmitting anxious and judgmental energy to her. I'm okay with her fussing at home; I understand crying is a big part of her communication at this point in her life. However, and this I wasn't really prepared for, I feel tense and inept when she starts getting upset in public. I think this will wear off – and I know that the people I'm around really aren't judging me, but I imagine they are. I am talking about friends and other new moms, so it's unlikely that they are looking askance at me and my screaming baby...but the mind does funny things.

I really do feel myself becoming awkward and doubting my ability to answer my baby's cries when I'm with a friend or in a different place. I so perfectly understand that it's okay for Ila to cry and get all worked up and maybe inconsolable for a little bit, but my emotions do not seem to follow this good understanding. They have a life of their own; a life that is, in this case, dictated by a fear that whoever I am with is wondering why I can't just figure out how to quiet her down and get to it.

I imagine this self-consciousness is extremely common for new mothers. Yet again, understanding this point and really believing it are two very different things. I guess it's an example of my perfectionism and the way that I harshly judge myself. I am trying to just see this discomfort and move through it because, at its heart, it is an unwillingness to accept myself as a new, learning mother and little Ila as a small, sometimes bewildered little baby. It's a wish for order and control at the sake of the messy process of learning to – in my case – be a sensitive and capable parent and – in Ila's case – a functional human being! I can't believe how many times I have to learn this lesson: be nice to yourself. Be patient.

Month Three!

At the beginning of last week - the first week of Ila's third month - I read that parents often find the third month to be easier than the preceding two because parents have acclimated and recognize their baby's cues, etc. etc. Well, last week was the hardest week I think we've had. Ila spent the beginning of the week refusing to eat and the second half of the week nursing constantly. As far as cues go, the beginning part of the week I was frantically trying to make out hunger cues - and getting screamed at when I tried to feed her too early. Later in the week, that same crazy shrieking meant that I had not gotten her to breast quickly enough! This behavior culminated in a Sunday afternoon nursing session of about hours - with little nap breaks (napping at the breast for 20 minutes). I guess when you eat substantially less for several days, you have to make it up somehow. Suffice to say, this is not my favorite schedule.

The baby books are of course fallible, as we've been over before, but it's fun to look at those developmental charts. In particular, I can't wait for Ila to grasp objects. She watches things intently, but has not lifted a finger yet. Last year a friend was talking with eager anticipation about when her little three month old would start grabbing things. I recall thinking that it was such a different existence to go from a competent, busy, stressed adult to someone whose excitement comes from whether a baby makes a conscious swipe at some little polka-dotted cow rattle. How funny, I thought, that this was engrossing. At this point, I would even take some aimless swings at objects.

One of my favorite descriptions on one of the developmental charts is how long a baby will clutch a rattle after you've shoved it into their little fists. It didn't really occur to me to force my child to play with her toys. I figured you just let them get to them in their own time. However, I've now seen other references to parents prying open the little newborn claws (I'm sorry, anything with nails that grow that fast are claws) to see if their babies would grip onto the toy. Well, Kiyomi gave it a shot and, I think, the results were predictable.




Another joy of the third month for babies is, of course, sucking on their own hands. Ila can now get her hand to her mouth - based mostly on luck, I think - but then has quite a hard time really getting what she wants out of the experience. Sometimes she gets her index finger wedged up between her gums and her front lip and thereby blocks entry for most of her hand. Then, once she gets her hand in her mouth a little, she tries to lift her head forward to get more of her hand in her mouth rather than just moving her arm towards her face more. Naturally, moving the head jostles the shoulder and arm and, again, results in the hand popping out of the mouth. It's fascinating to realize we were all this helpless - that we had to learn to move our hands to our mouth rather than our mouth to our hands. When she actually does get her hand to her mouth she just frantically licks at it. Anne Lamott's description of her son gnawing on his fist like a lion with a bone always comes to my mind. This past time seems truly satisfying to Ila - in all its slobbery, uncoordinated glory.



The downside of the start of the third month is the dreaded doctor's appointment replete with an array of vaccinations. I personally feel there are vaccines that are incredibly useful and kind of miraculous that we have. Yeah to no more children crippled by polio! Yeah to tiny infant airways opened, functioning and whooping cough free! Yeah to teenagers NOT dying of diphtheria! But, I think we do have a few that seem...well, not entirely necessary at this age. Hep B? What exactly are the odds that my child will be sexually active or sharing needles at this point? Hmmm.

I am, on the other hand, very happy there are vaccine watchdog groups. If anybody doesn't know the story of simian virus 40, look it up. It's scary shit - and many people have been exposed thanks to the old polio vaccine. I guess I don't believe that private, for-profit corporations should regulate themselves...nor do I believe that the "free market" will do that effectively for medicine either. So, we need people making a kerfuffle about any scary, unsafe vaccination practices.

That being said, I was not looking forward to the actual physical act of vaccination for Ila. She was PISSED and scared right after the shots, understandably. I nursed her right after, which was wonderful (thank you boobies!) because she calmed down and went to sleep. She was a bit upset though the rest of the day. And, I have to admit, there was some part of me that thought, all throughout Ila's weird unpredictable moods and cues last week, that the vaccines might have fouled her little systems up - at least temporarily - making her more grumpy and irritable.

The more fun part of the appointment - especially for Kiyomi - was finding out that Ila is in the 90th percentile for both length and weight. I am not sure why this is something to be proud of...but it feels like people are proud of this. I even feel it a little. How this is an achievement, I am not quite sure. I guess I could give Ila props for being a...good grower? Or, my breasts a gold star for nourishing her so well?

She's in the 75th for head circumference... but I can't imagine her head being any bigger. It's already astounding that her head is longer than her thighs and basically as long as her arms. Think about that for a minute. Those are some crazy huge heads babies have! I try to imagine the 25 percent of babies whose heads are bigger! (Well, at least the circumference is bigger...) What kind of crazy pumpkin heads are we talking about???

No, I think I'm going to reserve the gold stars for grabbing at things and neck control. Those are SKILLS I would certainly like to encourage...