Posted by Lily on Dec 31, 2008 in
Uncategorized Since practically the moment Cameron was born I have been bombarded by nurses & midwives reminding me to think about birth control because we all know breastfeeding isn’t 100% effective. Really? Bummer. Because that was the whole reason I was going to do it! Forget the whole health of the child thing. I was tired of the pill and decided to get pregnant so I could then use breastfeeding as my form of birth control.
In the beginning I laughed at these people because, um, sex? NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN. However, I live in the south and it is part of the marriage contract. And I’m pretty sure John could sue me if I didn’t. I don’t think he would, but I hate to leave myself open to that kind of litigation. It also doesn’t help that the midwife who ended up delivering Cameron and has done a lot of the subsequent follow-up is the sex midwife. I don’t think I’ve known someone who has seen her at any stage of pregnancy or postpartum who hasn’t had sex mentioned to them. Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but there was a hushed silence among my friends who’ve worked with her when I relayed that I was told at the six week appt. I couldn’t have sex.
After some discussion with the midwife and John I decided upon an IUD. Easy! Simple! Painless! So when I entered her office yesterday and she asked if I’d taken ibuprofen ahead of time, it was all I could do not to say no, good to see you, and then run for the hills. You see, I have spent the last three months visiting the midwives and each time has generally involved quite a bit of pain. I was therefore quite looking forward to an uneventful, simple, PAINLESS visit.
I admit that due to my involved recovery from childbirth I perhaps am a bit more complicated than most IUD insertions. HOWEVER. Along with things like: newborns aren’t easy, parenthood actually can be quite challenging, and oh, gosh, babies sometimes scream their heads off just ’cause they can, it would have been nice to know that IUDs aren’t actually as simple and painless as they are advertised to be.
My goal in the recounting of this event is to make every woman squirm as much as guys do when they listen to a story of someone getting kicked in the nuts. Because they always say that women don’t understand and there is no equivalent pain and I say oh yes, there is. This would also be the part of the post where those who are squeamish and don’t want to squirm should go make New Year’s resolutions.
IUD insertion in Lily’s newly redesigned ‘08 model Vajayjay:
Step one: Insert speculum. Easy.
Step two: Find cervix. Easy. Wait. Hold up. Where is it. Shoot. It’s wandering. Hmmm…. going to have to get creative here. Going to have to ROTATE THE SPECULUM. Ladies, we all know the shapes of these. There is a right way for them to fit, and a wrong way. They should therefore NEVER rotate. Especially not while OPEN. Especially not if you are still healing from the world’s worst Vajayjay explosion. Especially not MULTIPLE ROTATIONS. O.k. got it. It’s posterior. Just makes it a little more difficult, that’s all.
Step three: Sound the uterus. That’s right, I said sound. This is where you measure the size. Like a bra fitting, only much, much worse. Little pressure. Whoops! Cervix is on the move again. O.k sounding done.
Step four: Insert the IUD. LOTS of pressure here. LOTS. Doing great, just a little bit longer. Shoot. Cervix is on the move again, can’t get the IUD in. More rotating. More rotating. More pressure. Don’t mind the agonizing pain from the rotation. Bummer. Going to have to catch the cervix.
Step five: Catch the cervix. Take the world’s longest set of sharp pinchers (it definitely looks as bad as you’re imagining). Stick them in there with everything else and grab that cervix. Just a pinch. Cervix caught.
Step six: Insert the IUD. LOTS of pressure here. LOTS. Doing great. Just a little bit longer. Great! It’s in. MIND NUMBING UTERINE CONTRACTION. Oh no. Don’t say oh no. Please don’t say oh no. Your uterus spit out the IUD. I’m sorry what? My uterus did what? Spit the IUD out. We’re going to have to do it again.
Repeat Steps 1-6 with a little more creativity and trickery involving the uterus. Maybe if it doesn’t know we put it in again it won’t reject it. Really? Because I’m pretty sure my uterus learned its lesson and will spit ANYTHING out of it as to avoid the unexpected torture it had to go through a few months ago. Perhaps I don’t actually need an IUD or any form of birth control as my uterus has become autonomous and will never let anything in it again.
Uterus tricked. IUD in. IUD staying in. Uterus will now contract (really missed THAT feeling) for the next couple of days as it tries to eject out the foreign body I have INTENTIONALLY placed in it.
Sorry uterus.
The midwife then goes out to the waiting room where John and Cameron are waiting to let John know he’s in the clear and proceeds to give him more detail about the IUD, my uterus, my cervix, and sex than he has ever wanted to hear in his life. Especially in a public place.
And that’s why I love my midwife.
Posted by Lily on Dec 30, 2008 in
Cameron A quick post to say we’re back and settling in and there will be more exciting posts soon. It was wonderful to see so many people when we were in NC, but there were still many we didn’t get to see and miss terribly. Thanks to those who made the effort to come to us, it made our lives a whole lot simpler. And thanks to those who were sick who decided not to visit. I appreciate the forethought and for not sharing bugs with us.
There are numerous stories and photos to share, and I’m posting my favorite one today. Many of you who have read the blog from the beginning remember a frequent commenter named David. I think for awhile people were actually only reading the blog so they could read his comments and I thank him for the increased readership. David is the brother I never had, but desperately wanted, and he has been perhaps the most excited (other than the grandparents and auntie Reed) about the arrival of Bogey into the world. I was therefore a little nervous upon their first meeting that my sometimes cranktacular baby would be less than receptive at meeting his number one fan. Oh, how wrong I was.
Posted by Lily on Dec 16, 2008 in
Uncategorized I have finally made it home to my beloved NC for a couple of weeks so Cameron can meet the rest of Mommy’s world. Blogging will be scarce, if maybe not at all until I return. But check back after Christmas because there will be lots to read about such as the first plane ride and first Christmas and all the other mundane things no one really cares too much about but me.
I hope everyone’s holidays are safe and warm.
Posted by Lily on Dec 11, 2008 in
Cameron,
tidbits The other day I decided to run into Petco as I needed something for Serena. I was a little hesitant to go as Cameron was verging on a meltdown, but I decided I’d give it a try as I have to learn to go out and do things even if he is not behaving perfectly. It was Cameron’s first visit to a pet store. From the moment we entered to the moment we left, he was the happiest baby I have ever seen. He was wide eyed and smiling, cooing, laughing (as much as he laughs right now) the ENTIRE time. I have never seen him so happy for such an extended period of time. I told John I’d hold off on getting Cameron a hamster for Christmas, but John sees the writing on the walls.
Behold Cameron in Petco:
Posted by Lily on Dec 8, 2008 in
Cameron,
parenting In a recent post there was a comment by my friend Kristen about bonding with your baby. It is a subject that I have found to be an important part of my adventures as a new mom. Someone had once said to Kristen that it had taken awhile for her (the friend) to fall in love with the baby because she (the baby) had caused her so much pain. I did not find that to be the case with me, because honestly I think I did not associate him with the pain due to the epidural. By the time it wore off he had long since departed that region of my body to become permanently affixed to another, higher up part. 
However, the issue of immediate bonding was one I struggled with. I had heard from other moms that it doesn’t always happen, so I was trying to set myself up that I might not immediately feel that rush of love and bonding with this new being as the bluebirds sang and the clouds parted and the sunbeams hit us just right, basking us in warm radiance. But I figured it would still be an incredible feeling having this little baby who I’d gotten to know over the last nine months snuggle up with me as he tried to take in this new crazy world around him. I didn’t get that chance though, because he was taken so quickly from me and didn’t return for a few hours.
By the time he was brought back to me in the hospital, the epidural was wearing off and so began the three weeks of Lily saying hi to baby and then as soon as he needed something other than food, Reed or John or my mom taking him as I could not move. I’d say in the first week or so I didn’t really notice this and it didn’t really bother me because I was in so much pain and so exhausted that I can barely remember where I was, let alone that I had a child I was responsible for.
As the weeks progressed however, I became aware that I really wasn’t getting to spend much time with him. Sure, I got to nurse him, but I was unable to maneuver out of bed very well and definitely could not wander around with him or bounce him or dance with him, things he loved and that calmed him down.
John was an expert at these things. John could quiet Cameron faster and better than anyone. And this was fine with me. How wonderful for a dad to get to bond so much with his newborn. The midwife had also suggested we introduce a bottle (with breast milk) early so that John could take over a feeding or two at night allowing me to get some sleep and help in my recovery. Cameron took it like a pro and John did a wonderful job. All of these were lifesavers from my perspective.
Until about three weeks in.
This is when John went back to work.
The first day John left, Cameron screamed for an hour. There was nothing I could do to calm him. He eventually relented, but it was a tenuous day. Before John got home Cameron started screaming. Again. And there was nothing I could do to calm him. Again. John came home, I threw the baby at him, and the baby stopped crying. Instantly.
It was then that it hit me I hadn’t really bonded with him. I loved him, don’t get me wrong, but I could see there was a bond John had with him that I did not. And that I didn’t have much of a bond at all.
Then one morning, I was sitting there with him in bed propped up on my knees and he looked in my eyes and smiled. Then cooed a little. He pretty much laid there transfixed, staring at me. And it happened. I can’t describe the feeling. Kristen also said there are some things about motherhood that only mothers understand. This is one of those things. It was the most wonderful feeling and like that, I felt bonded. I would throw myself under any train/car/bus/monster for him. I would easily trade my life for his. I could spend the rest of my days just looking at him. The bluebirds sang, the clouds parted, the sunbeams hit us just right basking us in warm radiance.
Exactly one week later he spent the entire day crying piercing cries of agony created solely for the purpose of slowly destroying my brain. If I could have left him in the fenced yard with the dogs for the day I would have.
It was a good experience. I realized that first of all it was o.k. not to bond with him immediately. He actually didn’t grow horns or start spitting fire. He hasn’t even been arrested yet. It just took some time. And that even when I feel like I finally did bond with him, it doesn’t mean I have to adore him all the time. He is going to do things that will test me. We haven’t even gotten to toddlerhood or adolescence yet.
He and I are going to be o.k. He knows who I am. He smiles when he hears my voice. I (sometimes) know exactly what little thing to do to change him from screaming maniac into cooing smiles. And he in turn knows how to change me from tearing my hair out mad woman to woman madly in love with her son.
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Posted by Lily on Dec 5, 2008 in
parenting,
tidbits Conversation in bed last night:
Lily: Dude. It totally worked. He is passed out.
John: Wow. It’s like he’s been hypnotized.
L (to Cameron): You will now bark like a chicken.
J: Really? Bark like a chicken? Not, ’you will now sleep for 8 hours.’ I thought your choice would be whether to request 8 hours or 15. He’s hypnotized, you could choose ANYTHING to have him do, and you chose bark like a chicken. Chickens don’t even bark. What’s wrong with you.
L: What do chickens do?
J: Ummm…I don’t know. Cock-a-doodle-do?
L: That’s a rooster. What’s wrong with you?
J: Would you rather have financial stability the rest of your life or grapes? I’m Lily. Hmmm. What kind of grapes?
L: My answer reflects my sleep deprivation. Leave me alone.
J: A million dollars or $1.75? $1.75 thanks!
L: Well, are the quarters extra shiny?
J: Yeah, and the Alaskan quarters are worth 25.2 cents.
L: Go to sleep.
J: Afghanistan attacked us, let’s declare war on Iraq.
L: That’s it. The last eight years have been run by sleep deprivation. Cluck. That’s what chickens do. They cluck.
Posted by Lily on Dec 3, 2008 in
Animals,
Cameron,
pregnancy Few things people had questions about:
Was John or I right in regards to our bet on when Cameron would be born?
As you may remember
John and I bet when Cameron would arrive, because we thought it would definitely be before late October but couldn’t decide on when. If it was before the 12
th, John won. If it was after the 15
th, I won. If it was
in between, it was neutral. I went into labor on the 13
th, he was born on the 14
th. He couldn’t have planned it any better. This kid is trouble.
Whatever happened with Childbirth class?
I totally won. After a
disastrous class the week before, I gave birth one hour and twenty minutes before the final class began. I personally feel that makes me the childbirth class winner as I gave birth right before the last class. I was so good and paid such close attention I had my child! This was debated somewhat, but I stand by my win.
How are the animals adjusting?
Way better than we ever imagined. Sam (dog) has adopted Cameron as his own. He adores him and checks on him all the time to make sure he is o.k. Serena (dog) is missing being the center of every one’s attention but hasn’t put together that this is because of the new creature hanging around. She does occasionally go over and sniff him, mostly I think because she sees Sam do it and he gets lots of love for doing it. The cats are fairly indifferent. None of them are in love with Cameron, but none have tried to harm him in any way either, so that’s success in our book. Well, my book. Success in John’s book is if they were all horrible and he got to send them away.
If there are any other burning questions out there, feel free to ask!
Posted by Lily on Dec 2, 2008 in
Poop We’re sitting in the living room last night and Cameron is in his swing, talking to the little fish in the mobile that swirl above his head. I hear this little sound and tell John it sounded like a little poop. He says no, it was a fart. The end.
A little later Cameron starts to get pretty fussy. John offers to change the diaper as it is the first one since he’s been home. Oh, the injustice for John. He opens up the diaper to the molten explosion of Mt. Cameron. There was poop in places poop should never be. It was a team effort, but we got him cleaned up and what a happy baby he was.
For about twenty minutes.
Apparently the explosion we should have been concerned about wasn’t poop, but his brain. Somehow the poop broke his brain. He started wailing. And wailing. We fed him, because his eating has dramatically declined as there was a space issue in his digestive tract. He scarfed down some food and then wailed some more. He took the pacifier for awhile. Then wailed some more. He finally fell asleep, and then woke up and wailed some more. He continued this pattern all evening interspersing it with feeding every hour. Finally he fell asleep. He continued to eat just short of every two hours, waking up at 4 ready to start his day. Luckily he was starting it with a smile. I put him in his bouncy and told him to come up with a list of what he wanted to do today. Apparently somewhere between talk to his fish and poop, he fell asleep.
Yes, I know I have become one of those people. I am writing about poop. I’ve written TWICE about poop. But let me tell you, I have never been happier for the existence of a poop in this world than I was last night. Or this morning as my pleasant smiling baby has returned, replacing the possessed one that I desperately wished would fall asleep even for twenty minutes so I could have small breaks in between the intestinal shrieks of despair.
Oh, how good life feels today.
Posted by Lily on Dec 1, 2008 in
Poop Apparently, a little known fact (at least by me), is that breastfed babies reach this point, oh gosh I don’t know, maybe around 6 weeks or so, where they stop pooping. Just stop. The constant poop there to welcome you at every diaper change just goes away. You’re left with wet diapers. Nothing else. This can go on for up to a week. A week of no pooping. Imagine this for a moment. It is not a pleasant thought. Especially if you eat every two hours.
Once everything kicks back in, the poop that is released is the largest poop that will ever be recorded by your child. A blowout of such epic proportions, as the pediatrician explained to me, “don’t be surprised if it comes out the top of his shirt.” I can hardly wait.
Thanksgiving evening, he pooped. And that is the last we’ve seen of it. Not the last that we’ve heard, no, he actually seems to fart way more now that there is nothing else coming out down there. But this means we are at the start of day four without poop. At this point it could happen at any moment. We did a quick round of “not it” on who gets to change the epic exploded diaper, but Reed lost and she left town this morning. So it is down to John and I. Seeing as he is gone 8 hours out of the day, statistically speaking, it looks like I’m favored to be the one dealing with this.
My prediction is it will occur right after John goes to work. After I’ve just gotten him changed and snuggled in for the day and he’s dozing off into his morning nap. The house will shake, he will launch into the air, the house will be sprayed with poop sending animals running for cover, and my eardrums will blow out. I will then spend the rest of the day cleaning up from the bio hazard event that will have occured.
It is like when you’re playing Catch Phrase and the buzzer thing is in your hands and you KNOW it is about to buzz so you’re frantically trying to throw it to the next person. I just hope John has his catcher mitt on when he walks in the house.
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