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Tuesday, March 13th, 2012
Got Monkey Milk?
A monkey made me lactate. That sounds like a bad Judy Bloom title. But it’s true–actually two monkeys made it happen. Not even in person, but on video. Phil took Fia to the zoo and while there, he took video of the howler monkeys. He came home and showed it to me. They make this crazy screeching sound. I felt my boobs do that thing (ie: let-down) and suddenly, my shirt was soaked. I mean, it sounds nothing like a newborn cry, yet my little Em can’t even get results that good–and I produce like a machine for him. But through my nursing pads, bra and shirt? That’s revolutionary.
To any mom who is having problems producing: forget Raspberry Leaf Tea. Just watch this video. (We don’t have the capability to upload ours, but this is what they sound like.) I literally can’t be in earshot of it or else it happens. And of course it’s now Fia’s favorite video.
Oh, and mind you, this was in front of my father-in-law who is a pius Episcopalian Priest. I ran from the room in embarrassment while Phil and his parents looked puzzled. This was not something I wanted to explain. Until now (and he’s not my demographic anyway, so he’ll never read this).
Any others have some good lactating stories?
Picture of monkey via Shutterstock
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boob, boobs, breast, breast feeding, breastfeeding, howler monkeys, lactate, monkeys, monkeys screaming, nursing, pregnancy, pregnant, Raspberry Leaf Tea | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Mom Situations, Newborn Care
Thursday, March 8th, 2012
My "Remarkable" Boy
So a good friend just emailed me and our other mom friend. She and her husband are having a boy. Her email was so real to me that I had to share. I wrote her back and told her about all the good things a boy brings. And how now, I can’t even imagine my world any other way. But I felt the same way she did at first. I don’t like sports or trucks. I don’t have a relationship with my father (and my relationship with my mother was troubled at best). And Fia, while not into dresses and tutu’s like her daughter, is also a mini-me in her own spitfire ways. Her email made me laugh and cry. Sometimes words just work. And need to be shared. Thanks for humoring me. (Names changed for confidentiality.)
It’s a BOY!!!!!! A boy. Jill–it’s a boy. I’m having flash backs to last spring, sitting with you in the park trying to make sense of a boy. How can I be growing a mini penis and balls? Why didn’t I pay more attention during the, “He pees on me,” emails you sent? Oh Lord, a boy. It took me most of last night and an emergency call to Heather–plus the promise of one more kid (after this one)–to lure me from the edge. But I’m starting to get excited. I’ve also been able to (after a night of no sleep) recognize why I have such a fear of little boys. Want to hear it? Probably not but I’ll share anyway.
1. I’m not close with my father (borderline dislike him) and have a gay brother. I don’t “get” men or boys and I’m unsure of what to do with him (and them).
2. I’ve never been the type of girl to have “boy” friends–I always ended up sleeping with them or at the very least making out with them, thereby dissolving any friendship.
3. I hate sports, video games, and trucks. I’ve never watched Thomas and I don’t want too.
4. And finally the biggest reason, I’m afraid I will love him with my whole heart only for him to grow up and not return my calls, marry some inappropriate girl from California who insists on living there, have children of his own who I never get to see- in short I’m terrified that I will not occupy an important place in his life.
I have to raise a son and as tough as (my daughter) can be, she is all girl. Make-up and nails and dresses. Oh, and tutus. And she carries her purse and picks out shoes! In short she is a mini-me and I love her for that. It feels like rain or shine she will always be mine- not to be shared with some….”boy.” Even when she’s married.
But this little man I’m now incubating might just turn out to be the love of my life–and Oh my God, what if he leaves me??? I literally am now in tears thinking of having to let him go–and please know that as I type this I already know what a psycho I sound like. I remember, Jill, when you found out Emmet’s sex you told Dan and me that besides your husband, the men in your life are unremarkable. We say that line around here daily. So you can imagine when the tech said “It’s a boy,” my reaction was to climb off of the table and deck her (I mean that in the kindest way possible).
Last night Dan asked me to name one (straight) man that I love besides him. All I could come up with was my friend James, who I do adore and love. He said that when I get scared to think of him and James–and that is helping. But I could use some motherly advice form the two of you who have boys–how will you let them go? Do we have to? And what are fun things I can do with him that we can do as he grows up? I want to get ready for him, and I want him to be my friend someday, and mostly I want him to be remarkable.
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Wednesday, February 22nd, 2012
He looks so innocent....don't let him fool you!
The penis is killing me. I will soon need anger management. I have followed the advice of other moms but I am still getting bathed in urine. As are my walls, Emmett’s body–even his face. Today it happened three times in a row. What am I doing wrong?
Here is what one mom wrote to me:
1. Open the front of his diaper for a few seconds to let the air hit his penis; the temperature change is usually what triggers the peeing;
2. Lay the front of the diaper back over him and wait a few seconds to see if he’s going to pee;
3. Proceed with diaper change.
I have not been peed on since I learned this trick over two years ago.
I have tried this trick. The problem is, I pull the diaper back, then wait a few seconds. I proceed with the change. And 8 times out of 10 I still get hit.
Emmett poops a ton. And I am still battling this diaper rash. It turned bacterial. I got prescription ointment. Added an anti-fungal ointment in there as well, by my own accord. It went away. But now it’s back. I don’t want him to sit in the poop for even a few minutes, as that seems to be what made it come back, despite the 10-inch buffer of creams + aquafor + triple paste.
So he poops, I change. 10 minutes later he poops again. I change. This goes on for about 30-45 minutes and up to five diapers. Somewhere in there, we both get a golden shower. Maybe three.
At about 4 a.m. this morning, we had simultaneous poop-pee-barf. Yes, baptism by fire with a newborn. But with Fia I only really dealt with the barf/reflux. She didn’t poop 5 times in 30 minutes either.
I am going to look into a pee tent, but honestly, he wiggles so much, even a burp cloth doesn’t work. It would have to be a tent that you use in a circus to cover the whole area. Oh, but then I’d be under it and get sprayed anyway. I’m also trying to dry out his bum each time, which adds to the length of time we both become moving targets.
This morning I texted my husband. I told him I was sorry to break the news to him, but I may become a lesbian or a nun as I am beginning to hate the penis. He hasn’t written back. He’s probably too terrified to come home.
Now I’m off to swimming lessons with Fia. Where I won’t get peed on because a) the instructor is in the water with her not me; b) she wears a swim diaper; c) she has a vagina. Thank the lord!
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advice, bacterial rash, diaper change, diaper rash, golden shower, mom advice, pee, penis, poop, poops, pregnancy, pregnant, urine | Categories:
Fearless Feisty Mama, Must Read, Newborn Care
Friday, February 17th, 2012
This is why I feel fragile. They are my life. My world….
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Friday, February 10th, 2012
Ugh. Emmett has an eye infection. I noticed the gunk forming, but Fia had the same thing. I was told it was immature tear ducts. Luckily I had a pediatrician appointment scheduled for him, or I would have ignored it. I took him in and the doctor said it was definitely an infection because the whites of his eyes were irritated and red. Good to know. I want to spread the word on that.
She took a culture and I go in again on Tuesday for them to take another look. In the meantime, we have an antibiotic ointment we put in his eyes 3 times a day.
I wouldn’t worry except she said eye infections aren’t that common (something you hate to hear. I prefer safety in numbers), and are often an underlying symptom of something else. She thought it might have happened in delivery, but when I explained that I had a C-section, and he didn’t pass down the canal, that pretty much eliminated that reason.
She asked if anyone was sick at home. Nope. Fia does have a runny nose from time to time and she does go in to kiss him, so now I have to be extra diligent on making sure her face is clean. I’m already a nazi with her hands.
I also have been putting breast milk in the eye and the doc concurred that that can help. It’s amazing the antibodies in that stuff.
His weight gain is excellent. He has now surpassed his birth weight of 8 pounds, 2 ounces and is a robust 8 pounds 6 ounces.
He has grown half an inch, to 21.5.
What did freak me out is that his head is only in the 25th percentile. Fia’s head was enormous (thus the C-section), and out of the gate in the 90th percentile. Big brain=big head, right?
She also baked in my belly 2 extra weeks. The doctor said 25th percentile isn’t anything to worry about. All they care about is that it grows on the curve. This is the baseline measurement.
So that’s my update right now. Anyone else out there have experience with an eye infection in a newborn? I am resisting the temptation to google….
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