patience and self-acceptance

I would like to foster a sense of patience and self-acceptance as Lilly seeks to master new skills, that she doesn't get frustrated and upset with herself. It's a challenge then for us parents to remain patient as well as she learns to become entirely diaper-free and eat by herself with her own utensils when we're wiping up pee from the floor right after we've asked if she needs to use the potty and clean up tomato soup from everywhere but the ceiling.

Lately she's really been wanting to practice drinking water from an adult cup, and to play with water, transferring and spilling, making a big mess. Then I realized this morning how much I actually do with water, measure for the oat meal, fill pots, make coffee, refill the britta filtered water container, do the dishes, rinse out the humidifier, clean table and counter tops. And Leighton and I love our water bottles (and Lilly likes to have about three bottles plus one cup going for her). I noticed that she does pretend to clean up after her spills sometimes, just like mama. Always copying, always trying to learn. Always a big grin on her face when I get upset.

mother's instinct

Dealing with Lilly’s cold has brought up some grief for me surrounding Lilly’s first days of life and how I failed to trust my instinct faced with the threats of a pediatrician, the worries of my husband, even the hesitant attitude of our midwife.

When Lilly hit her head at the airport in Athens this past summer, I was more determined to stand stronger. I wish the ambulance people had not arrived. But at least I did not follow the doctor’s advice to be transferred from the clinic to a neurological unit. I had to sign papers before we could leave the country, it was my decision only, and I took that responsibility. On the way back to the airport in the ambulance, one of the paramedics whispered to me that he thought I’d made the right decision, that she’d be just fine.

Those words were so comforting.

But as a mama you can’t always count on them.

You’ve got to trust your own instinct.

You've got to stand strong, and you’ve got to remain big enough not to hold blame against those who can’t be expected to have that instinct. No matter how tired or physically exhausted.

Victorious mama with Lilly, in bed our first night together, a few hours after a three day labor. (Sunday June 15, Albert Lea Medical Center)

Exuberant mama finally getting ready to take Lilly home. (Wednesday June 18, Mayo Clinic Intensive Care Unit, Rochester)

nurse Lilly

Last night Lilly slept from seven thirty till two a.m., an improvement from her previous nights, fighting this cold. But then she was up from two till four a.m. before she fell asleep again and slept for an hour, awoke again, but then slept another hour after a while. This morning she was walking around with her baby doll Millie, rocking and hushing her, kissing her on her head, wrapping her in a "blanket" (baby Millie's bath towel), carrying a water bottle for her, just as I have been doing for Lilly these last few nights.

cold season

We were two weeks into nighttime weaning from nursing and things were going so well (Lilly would sleep from around seven or eight and not nurse till around four or five after which we'd either get up or she'd fall asleep again for another hour or so; she might stir one or two times earlier in the night, but would settle quickly and fall asleep again on my arm), when she came down with a nasty cold on Thursday and now it's back to being a nighttime nurse, in more than one sense of that word. First night is always the worst: of course I offer the boob whenever she wants it now, anything to comfort her, but she's having a hard time sucking, so congested. So tired. Cries exasperatedly. I lift her up and stroke her back, we walk around the house, turn on lights, offer more medicine. Back to bed, more boob. Finally she falls asleep, but awakens herself coughing, cries, needs and wants a break but body resist. Poor little baby! Second night went a little easier and so we're not as out of it today. It's a dreary day, above freezing, drizzle in the air, gray.

spring sprung

I realize it's premature, but when you've been dealing with temps way below zero (hovering around minus 15 F, which is minus 25 C), a rise in temps to around 15 to 30 F (that's minus 10 to 1 C) makes it feel like spring is all of a sudden here.  Leighton and I have been delighted to be able to walk back and forth to the library again in what feels like balmy weather; seriously, I've even heard birds chirping. When it's also sunny, and the ground covered in white snow (while some of the ice on the roads is beginning to melt or get scraped off), things ain't looking so bad. I've been holding on to the comfort, light and scents of Christmas with the tree, decorations, and frankincense up till now, but today I got everything taken down and packed away after lunch, and we'll haul the tree out tonight when Leighton gets home.

Additionally, the night time weaning is going really well!! It'll have been a week tomorrow. I find that it's really the reassuring talking to Lilly about how the boobs need to go to sleep at night, they're so tired, sleep feels so good, and then they'll be so happy to see her in the morning, etc., is what's doing the trick. Because when she wakes up in the middle of the night now, she knows they're sleeping and she can't have them. She'll sometimes whine, and one or two times per night, she might stay awake for a little while. But even then, she's so much calmer, not squirming for one boob after the other, frustrated she's not finding complete satisfaction. Instead she finds comfort in being stroked, snuggling, and then she will ultimately fall asleep again on my arm. Last night she woke me up with a loud snore at one point, but I was able to drift back to sleep again soon after.

With more restful nights, I might soon be able to pick up Siri Hustvedt's What I Loved (2003) again. I started it, and I like it, but it's too dense for my exhausted brain to read right now in the evening. So I've gotten into another mystery of Tess Gerritsen, The Body Double (2004), a follow up to The Sinner (2003) which I read in Greece this past summer.

More rest has helped Leighton and I feel less overwhelmed with parenting. The exhaustion made us both prone to bickering for a stretch, now there's a sense of optimism and "we can do it" feeling between us. We've become more creative in terms of how to spend our time with Lilly when she won't nap, we've gotten even more socially pro-active, and we've been able to let go some of our hopes and expectations for alone or me time.

Lilly's happy as usual, nursing just as much during the daytime, she's now also taken on nursing her baby dolls. And she's getting more into solids, preferably when she can eat them herself. She's very proud of her new toddler knife, like mama and papa; she now gets to eat with a knife and fork. It all creates a big mess, of course, especially since she refuses wearing a bib (and when we have tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner, like yesterday). But it's fun to watch too, and we're very proud of every spoonful she gets into her mouth.

nighttime weaning part II

After a string of sleepless nights, what with Lilly getting that cold, then just being such a bundle of energy who can't seem to stop (sounds famliar?), we (I...) decided to give the nighttime weaning another try (after a first attempt earlier last fall. We had a couple successful first nights, then I forgot my vow the third night, by the fourth night it watered out). So. This was the plan: put her down in the second bedroom like we always do (usually between seven and eight). Nurse her to sleep (as usual). Then give her boob again upon transfer to ours (typically anytime between ten and midnight). Then not again till 5 a.m. During the day, I explained to her calmly how the boobs would have to sleep, but then would be very happy to see her in the morning.

I'm happy to report, the night went pretty well! She fell asleep around 7 p.m. Woke between 9 and 9:30 p.m. as I was getting ready for bed. I took her with me and nursed her (oh, another part of the plan was that Leighton will sleep in the second bedroom till we have this figured out, to give me and Lilly some more space. We'll give it a week, then see). So we parted our ways. Lilly woke around 1 a.m. and angrily beat me and my boobs. She clearly knew she couldn't ask for them for she didn't even try (typically she points or grasps, uttering "pupp"!). But lo and behold: she settled sooner than when I keep offering the boob on her demand. Same procedure around 3 a.m.; this time she actually settled sooner. And this time she also drank a little of the water bottle I also had offered her around 1. I took her with me to the bathroom to pee both times (I had to go, and I felt the up and down would be good to break the crying spell). It worked.

Then she slept till past five. I woke before her, my boobs achingly full. I stirred a little, she woke, had a boob, fell back to sleep. Slept another hour or so, had the other boob, we were up around 7. I took her to the bathroom where she peed and pooped in the potty (auto for her on most days, except these last couple of days, it's almost like she hasn't had time to sleep or poop: she's just up and running around). She wasn't really wanting to go today either, but I got her in her seat, and there she went.

Then she wanted her sweatsuit on, it's in her room, where Leighton was still sleeping. I quickly went in and got her a new diaper and clothes from the shelves without him waking, but then soon after Lilly went back in to get him up. So cute. She loves her papa.

I'm hopeful about how this could turn out. Leighton and I sure need the rest. Lilly, on the other hand, seems effaced by the less amount of sleep she's been getting. Such a life force, so much energy. Such a happy girl.