Stuck Under a Baby

Category: nursing

  • 1,461 Days (A Letter To My Son on His Fourth Birthday)

    My Dear Son,

    For 1,461 days I have held your hand, carried you close, and stroked your hair.

    For 1,461 days I have wiped away your tears, kissed your boo boos, wrestled with you, and tickled you until your belly ached.

    For 1,461 days I have nursed you, nourished you, protected you, and bonded with you.

    For 1,461 days I have watched you grow, learn, and develop your own unique personality.

    For 1,461 days I have laughed with you, cried with you, and worried sick about you.

    For 1,461 days I have cheered you on when you won and comforted you when you lost.

    For 1,461 days I have watched you become more confident, develop a sense of humor, learn how to share and play well with others, and grow your imagination.

    2013-02-18 Collage
    Photo on left: One minute old, February 18, 2009 / Photo on right: 4 years old, February 18, 2013

    For 1,461 days I have pushed you to explore the world and have offered a warm lap and open arms when it was too much. For 1,461 days I have rocked you, walked with you, and driven you in circles just so you could get the rest you needed.

    For 1,461 days I have cooked for you and re-cooked for you when you weren’t happy with the first selection.

    For 1,461 days I have watched you crawl, walk, run, jump, hop, and ride a bicycle.

    For 1,461 days I have slept by your side, listened to you breathe, and rested my hand on your beating heart.

    For 1,461 days I have read to you, played with you, given you opportunities to investigate and make your own discoveries, and tried to empower you with knowledge.

    For 1,461 days I have sung to you, made up stories for you, and listened to your every word.

    For 1,461 days I have wished for you, prayed for you, and dreamed big dreams for you.

    For 1,461 days I have loved you more and more.

    For 1,461 days you have made my world… this world… a better place.

    Happy fourth birthday, my darling boy.

    Love,

    -Mama

    *************************

    If you liked this post, you may also like:

    Mama’s Yellow Chair:

    Blog 03-12-2012

     You Can’t Spoil a Baby:

    02-12-2012 can't spoil

  • Got Breastmilk Thawing Because of Hurricane Sandy? Maybe We Can Help…

    For nursing/pumping mothers in NJ still without power, we have an empty freezer and will house your pumped milk until your power is restored! Contact us if you need our help!

    Please take a moment to share this on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, etc. and in with any appropriate groups. Thanks so much!

  • Milk by Any Other Name is Still Milk!

    I had the breast pump out.  I was going to be out of the house for a while the following day and my kids were going to stay home with my husband.  I figured just in case my baby daughter woke up and needed milk, I’d try to have some available to her, although she isn’t really used to taking a bottle.  I don’t pump often because I don’t have the time, I’m almost always home with the kids so I don’t need to, and I have that excess lipase issue which just adds an extra step to the whole storing thing.

    During my daughter’s nap the other day, my son began examining the pump.  “Mama, how does this work?”  So, I began explaining as best I could.  He wanted to see it in action.  I found the pieces I needed which were clean but not sterilized.  I was able to pump about an ounce.  I was thrilled.  He was fascinated.

    As I have been desperately trying to wean my son, I suddenly had a brilliant idea.  “Hey,” I said, “Why don’t I put this in a cup for you?”  I got out a special cup and a crazy straw and poured the milk from the bottle.  I handed it to him and watched.  Then, my son (who is addicted to nursing) examined it closely, turned his nose up at it, and handed the cup back to me with a “No, thanks!”  He actually seemed grossed out by the whole thing, which is weird because he begged to start nursing again immediately afterwards!

    I would have loved to save this pumped milk for baby girl, but it had sat out too long without scalding so it was already beginning to spoil.  I ended up pouring the milk down the drain which, as anyone who pumps knows, breaks your heart a little as each drop disappears.

    As for my son, I have tried cow’s milk, coconut milk, almond milk (plain and vanilla), soy milk, chocolate milk, Pediasure, Kefir, etc.  Nothing has worked as a substitute – not even my own milk in a cup!  I know it’s also about the closeness and bonding which I take very seriously, but come on, kid!  You can sit on my lap and snuggle with me while drinking my milk from a cup, can’t you?  Apparently not.  Sigh.

  • Mama’s Yellow Chair

    This summer, you were getting to be such a big boy.  You were growing by leaps and bounds in your physical, emotional, and vocal development.  You were also about to become a big brother.

    Everyone told me that now that you were two and a half years old, I should send you to pre-school.  I know that they were looking out for both of us – we have always been so attached and with your sister on the way, it would be good if you became more independent.  I saw the value in this, but my gut told me you weren’t quite ready… and perhaps, neither was I.

    Instead of waiting until after your sister’s arrival and having you feel that I was sending you away because of the new baby, I signed you up for a summer camp program at a prospective pre-school.  We talked and role-played about it and you were excited.  We even got you your very own backpack.

    The first day of camp, I held your hand as we walked down the hall to meet your teachers.  Your eyes lit up with delight at the sight of all the new toys.  I hugged you goodbye and went down the hall.  I was going to stay in the building just in case you needed me.  I found a spot in the library and immediately began sobbing.  You were growing up.  Maybe you didn’t need me so much anymore.

    Forty minutes in to camp, I was marveling at how well you were doing.  I peeked through the window once or twice and was both proud and sad.  I made sure you didn’t see me, but I wanted to tell you what a great job I thought you were doing.

    I went back to the library and sat, not quite knowing what to do with myself.  Then, I heard a familiar cry.  The teachers had instructed everyone to clean up for snack time.  It was now quiet and focused, and it was then that you realized that I wasn’t there.  Although the teachers tried and tried to comfort you, you wouldn’t settle down.  I paced up and down the hall, my heart breaking, wanting so badly to rescue you, but not wanting to impose on the class.  After what was seemingly an eternity (but was only about three minutes), I was given the nod through the window.  I came in and held you as tight as I could, always reassuring you that you were safe and loved and that, even if you couldn’t see me, Mama was never far away.

    You requested that I stay with you, and the teachers allowed it.  I pulled up a yellow chair and sat in the corner of the classroom.  I watched as you interacted with the other children, explored on your own, and took in the whole experience.  You came back for hugs now and again, but as long as you could see me, you were fine.

    The next day of camp, you asked if I was going to leave.  I told you that I had to go down the hall to give them a check and I would be right back.  I asked your permission to leave.  You told me I could go and I reassured you that if you needed me, I would come back.  I hugged and kissed you and walked out of the room.  You went to the art area and started painting a picture.  I sighed a sigh of relief and began my journey down the hall.  Seven minutes later, as my check got handed to the registrar, I felt it.  I couldn’t yet hear you, but I felt you.  My pace picked up as I rushed back down the hall.  I knew it was you.  The aide met me in the hall – she was on her way to find me.  I went in and held you as you sobbed and caught your breath.  “Let’s go home,” you told me in a shaky voice.  I took you outside, reassured you, nursed you, and held you close.  We decided after you regained your composure to go back in and play some more, with the condition that I stayed in the corner in my yellow chair.

    Some would say, “Let him cry.  He’ll get over it eventually.”  Others would say, “He’s just not ready.  Try again in a few months.”  I chose an option in between.  I wanted you to have the experience.  I wanted you to socialize with other kids.  I wanted you to gain some independence.  I wanted you to learn how to let others attend to your needs.  What I didn’t want was to traumatize you.  I didn’t want you to fear the separation even more.  I didn’t want you to feel abandoned.  I didn’t want you to feel unloved.

    So, every other day, we went to camp.  And every other day, I sat in the corner.  And every other day, I watched you play and grow.  You weren’t ready and I don’t know when you will be.  You still wanted me and I was okay with that.  One day you’ll be ready and one day you may not need me as much anymore.  But wherever you go, whatever you need, I’ll always be there for you, my love… sitting in the corner, in Mama’s yellow chair.

  • My Rainbow Connection – My Toddler, My Baby, and Me

    Last night was difficult.  My husband has had to work late all week, and tonight was no exception.  After dinner, I got my baby girl to sleep pretty easily.  My son was a bit riled up from a spontaneous visit by his grandparents, but I finally got him to settle down soon after they left.  Just as I was about to put him to bed, my daughter woke up.  I tried to settle her, but she wouldn’t go back to sleep.  Meanwhile, my son sat on (yes, on) my feet quietly playing Angry Birds on my phone.  I wasn’t thrilled with this activity, but he didn’t want to be alone and I didn’t have many other options for keeping him quiet and entertained.  My daughter kept dozing back off, but every time we tried to leave, she’d wake up again.  My son was starting to lose patience and started climbing on me and making silly noises, thus prolonging the whole process.

    I eventually gave up on getting my daughter back to sleep, knowing that she is the easier one to put back down.  I sat her in her bouncy seat and decided to concentrate on getting my son to bed.  I put his pajamas on him, nursed him, gave him his vitamins, and brushed his teeth.  I shut off the light and the three of us climbed into bed.  By the glow of a flashlight, he “read” me The Napping House and then it was my turn to read it to both of my children.  I kissed them each goodnight.  I put my daughter in the co-sleeper next to my bed and had my son lie down in his spot (in the center of our bed).  He wanted me to snuggle with him, but I needed to nurse my daughter back to sleep.  I explained this and offered him my foot.  It sounds funny, I know, but he needed to feel connected any way he could.  He cuddled with my foot as if it were a teddy bear.  After a bit of fussing, my daughter finally fell back asleep.  I then scooted my son over (as he was now lying on top of my legs) and snuggled up close to him.  He fell asleep in my arms to a lullaby rendition of The Rainbow Connection.

    From chaos came peace.  I got a little teary eyed as I lay there.  Earlier, I was thinking “How in the world am I going to do this?”  But there I was.  I had done it.  I got them both to sleep at the same time.  By myself.  And it wasn’t easy.  But, I did it.  I was a mother to my children.  There was the something that I was supposed to be.  Somehow I found it, my Rainbow Connection – my toddler, my baby, and me.  La da da dee da da doo, la da da da da dee da doo.

    The Rainbow Connection: http://youtu.be/jSFLZ-MzIhM

     

  • Reach Out and Touch Someone

    The phrase “Reach Out and Touch Someone” from a Bell System phone commercial of many years ago has been stuck in my head recently.  Over the last two weeks, it has become my mantra.  I was feeling disconnected from my toddler son and didn’t know how to remedy it.

    My son and I were attached… very attached.  As a baby, he never liked to be put down.  I used to wear him all the time, nurse him on demand, sleep with him on my lap or snuggled next to me, and even sit next to him in the back seat of the car when someone else was driving.  As he got older and more independent, he wanted to walk on his own rather than be carried.  He was nursing less frequently.  Soon before my baby girl arrived, we installed her carseat in the back which eliminated my spot.  Now that my baby girl is here, she and I have started sleeping in a different room to avoid having the kids wake each other up.  My son and I have lost a lot of our physical (and, as a result, some emotional) connection.  I think both of us started feeling the effects of this separation.

    My baby girl is now being worn all the time, nursing on demand, and sleeping snuggled next to me.  Occasionally, I have to squeeze into the back seat of the car to sit next to her if she really needs me to.  My son is off playing and doing things toddler boys do.  He is growing so fast, getting so big, and becoming more independent each day.  But he still needs his mama, and his mama still needs him.  My biggest question became how do I reconnect with my son?

    I recently went to a free program in my town for little ones and their caregivers.  I ran into a friend who is a very like-minded parent.  I watched as she wore and cared for her baby boy and still maintained a strong connection to her toddler.  He would wander off and go investigate a new toy or book, but would come back periodically for a “recharge.”  His mother would squeeze him tight and give him a kiss and then he would happily wander off again.  I had a feeling that she was on to something.  This simply might be what my son and I needed.  Just as we plug in our phones to recharge the battery when it starts getting low, we needed to plug in to each other to recharge our physical and emotional batteries.

    When we left the program, I talked to my son about “recharging.”  I explained to him that sometimes Mama needed an extra hug or kiss and sometimes he might need one.  Recharges are non-negotiable.  If someone needs a recharge, everything else stops and we wrap our arms around each other and squeeze until we have enough power to last us a while.  I wasn’t sure how he’d respond to this concept.  In the beginning, I initiated almost all of our recharges, but he happily complied.  During the past week, he has been asking for more and more, and has even recharged with others including his father and grandmother.  Overall, he seems happier, is feeling more connected and loved, and is reminded that we are here for him whenever he needs us.

    Having noticed a difference in his demeanor and behavior, I have made a conscious effort to be a lot more affectionate towards him.  We wrestle, have tickle fights, and blow raspberries on our tummies.  If we’re sitting near each other, I try to physically connect to him somehow – either inviting him to sit on my lap, putting my arm around him, or just placing my hand on his knee.  I can’t always get him to hold my hand while walking, but I certainly do try.

    I have reached out and touched someone… a very important someone.  A hug, a kiss, a squeeze, and/or a loving touch have made a world of difference in our lives.  We have been revitalized.  We have been reconnected.  We have been recharged.

  • Biting bites!

    A friend recently asked me how to deal with nursing a teething baby.  I’ve been through it once so far and anticipate going through it again within the next few months.  Biting hurts, but it hurts even more when it’s on your boob.  It’s hard to get the point across to a baby who doesn’t even really understand language yet that biting is not acceptable.  It’s hard not to yell or react physically.  It’s hard to continue nursing knowing that it could happen again at any moment.  It’s hard, but using simple and consistent words, not raising your voice or startling your child, and staying relaxed are all important to maintaining a healthy and stress-free nursing relationship.

    I know a few mamas who have scared their children by having a big, loud reaction to the bite.  It’s painful and surprising, so who wouldn’t automatically react that way.  However, this type of reaction has the potential to damage a nursing relationship or trigger a nursing strike.

    I’m certainly no expert.  I’m just a mama who has nursed… a lot.  One quick trick might be to have your child chew on a cold teething toy or washcloth before your nursing session to help numb the gums a bit.  My best recommendation for anyone in this situation is to immediately unlatch your child, be calm but firm, and tell him/her in simple words that biting means no milk.  Cover up your breast and say something like “Ouch, biting hurts Mama,” or “We don’t bite.”  After this, move on from the incident and continue nursing.

    If by chance the biting continues, repeat the same phrase then end the nursing session for the time being.  Play, cuddle, or distract however you can.  Hopefully, your child will start to understand that the milk goes away when he/she bites.  It might take a few times, but the child should eventually start to learn and adjust his/her behavior.

    Biting bites!  Just be calm and patient and know that this too shall pass.