Mom-Saver Mondays: Swaddles

(A day late and a dollar short, sorry.)

It's clear to me that Mother Nature made a grave error: babies should not be born with arms.

They can't control them. They're allllllll over the place. My baby is 2 months old today, and still punches me in the face (inadvertently . . . I hope) on a daily basis.

Arms clearly should grow in later.

This is never more obvious than at night, when your sweetly sleeping (ha!) angel suddenly flails his arms and whaps himself in the face.

That's a pretty crappy wake up call.

And if you don't do something about, he's going to keep whapping himself in the face, on and off, throughout the entire night.

That means a terrible night's sleep for you, and a pretty crappy one for him too.

Enter, the swaddle.

Just wrap your baby up like a burrito, pinning his flailing arms at his sides, and he'll sleep soundly.

If you've ever tried to swaddle your baby with a blanket yourself, you know how tricky it is. Like putting an octopus in a pullover. And even if you manage to get baby wrapped up snugly, he still finds a way to wiggle a hand out and scratch himself awake.

These things are the answer:

Summer Infant SwaddleMe

Have you ever seen a baby look more like a burrito? These things have velcro all over the place to make swaddling easy and permanent. Well, at least until you're ready to release the Kraken. My baby is napping in one as we speak--he's wiggling and squirming all over the place, but his arms are trapped and he's yet to smack himself awake. Thank God. 

Go buy a few of these right away. They say arm control doesn't develop until 3-4 months. That's a lot of lost sleep.

Note: I have not been compensated in any way for this review. I have not been given a free product, as lovely as that would be. In the future, should you want to offer me things for free to review, go for it. For now, anything I review was paid for out of my own pocket, and I offer the review out of the goodness of my heart.

 

Breastfeeding a Rabid Badger

Or why I don't nurse in public.

I read an article recently about one woman's struggle with breastfeeding, and it really resonated with me, particularly the feeling of being trapped in the house because you're not comfortable nursing in public.

It's not modesty, though if I decided to give it a shot, I might find myself too shy to do it anyway.

No, the problem is my son. His breastfeeding routine looks nothing like those nursing videos, commercials, or bf'ing moms sitting serenely on a park bench, wind in their hair, as their angelic baby snacks away.

It looks more like a wild animal attacking its prey.

First, we try latching on.

"Yay, eating!! Where's the boob? Where's the boob? Oh, I see it! Now, nipple. Maybe if I just fling my head in the direction of the boob with my mouth open, I'll land on it. Not it. Not it. Not it. Yay, nipple. "

Then suddenly he's a boob connoisseur. He tries to latch and then shakes it off several times, before he's finally convinced these are the only boobs in town, and settles down to eat.

Briefly.

After a few minutes of peaceful eating (which seems to involve a lot of sticking his fingers in his eyes and me reminding him that breast milk is not finger food, so he should keep his little paws out of the mix) he decides the milk isn't flowing fast enough, which he needs to remedy by clawing at the boob, yanking on the nipple, and generally abusing me. Ouch.

Then we eventually switch boobs, and repeat the whole ordeal all over again, to the tune of 35-40 minute feeds, every 2 hours.

This is not a dance I wish to engage in in public. I don't need an audience for the show. Even with a cover, it would be hard to be discrete with a flailing badger under there.

So we keep our outings short.

And I envy those women who can nurse happily in public.

5 Bizarre Baby Food Gadgets

...because you can't just mush it up and spoon it into baby's mouth.

Source: rarebirdfinds.typepad.com via Heather on Pinterest

Bowls and spoons are SO last century.
(Also, she's clearly not a mom, because who has time for a French manicure and tips?!?)

Source: well.ca via Well.ca Canada on Pinterest

Because a blender won't cut it. For some reason.

Source: mypreciouskid.com via Carrie on Pinterest

Somehow completely different from tupperware. Somehow.

Source: onestepahead.com via Make It on Pinterest

Ice cube trays and Popsicle sticks just aren't cutie enough.

Source: lilsugar.com via Mommypage on Pinterest

So your carefully prepared homemade baby food can look just like that store bought crap.

5 Myths and Realities about Breastfeeding

The pendulum swings back and forth on breastfeeding, and I'm sure you've noticed it's "in" again. Not that you should make your child-rearing decisions based on trends, but you're in for a lot of grief if you try to go against the flow. If you're like most mothers, you've decided to breastfeed because you believe it's the best thing for your baby, not because it's the thing to do--but where you run into trouble is when you have difficulty breastfeeding and start considering other options. That's when the "nipple nazis" attack. The breastfeeding propaganda is everywhere, trying to guilt you into persevering with breastfeeding, even when you're about to lose your ever-loving mind. A few of the arguments:

1. It's natural.

Yep. So's menstruating. And I think most of us would do away with it if we could. 

Breastfeeding might be natural, but that doesn't mean it's easy. For many women, it's not. It's frustrating, exhausting, and damn near impossible. Natural is not synonymous with enjoyable.

2. It's painless.

Bahahaha! Yes, if done correctly, breastfeeding is apparently painless. But unless you're blessed with a wonder baby, you and your little one will both be facing a steep learning curve, and while you're getting the hang of things, it hurts. Sometimes a lot. You've probably been pretty kind to your nipples over the years, but those days are at an end.

3. It's convenient.

Yes, it's easier to whip out a boob than to haul around bottles and formula. In the long run. But while you're still getting the hang of things--which can take weeks--you're basically a 24/7 dairy. By the time you get baby latched on, wake him up 4 times after he falls asleep, burp him, etc., each feeding session can take up to an hour--and you're supposed to feed newborns every 2 hours! This is the time that the bottle might be most tempting--10 minutes and done.

4. It helps you bond with baby.

I really, really want to believe this, but I feel like I spend most my nursing time fighting with my baby--to latch on, to stay latched on, to stay awake, and to keep nursing after he's gotten the "easy" milk and has to work harder for the good stuff. Crying and pleading do not make me feel bonded to baby.

5. It's cheaper than bottle feeding.

That's only before you factor in the therapy and depression medications necessitated by your feelings of failure because WHY WON'T THE BABY NURSE RIGHT?!?

I say none of this to discourage anyone from breastfeeding, only to add a dose of reality to the most popular arguments used by those determined to make you feel like crap when your baby doesn't latch onto your breast seconds after birth and stay there until he's 18. 

Despite these difficulties, my baby and I are still working on breastfeeding ourselves--we have good days and bad days. And I think we could all use a little reassurance that what we're going through is common, if not "normal," and most importantly, that if and when we decide to switch to pumped breast milk or formula, we're all still  good mothers, doing what's best for our babies.

Mom Saver Mondays: Fold Over Sleeves

My little one is now, incredibly, 3 weeks old, and while so much has changed over the last several weeks, one thing hasn't: his arms are all over the place. 

This is particularly unfortunate when he's nursing. He can barely control his arms long enough to latch on, and before you know it--wham!--I get whapped in the boob.

This is painful.

Even more painful if his scratchy little fingernails are exposed.

He's far too small to clip them, so we try to keep them filed, but even so--they're sharp, scratchy, and hit you when you least expect it. 

Various stores will sell you wee little mitts to slip over baby's hands. These things are useless. Baby wiggles out of them faster than he wiggles out of socks. That's pretty darn fast.

But there is an answer: fold over sleeves.

Some Carter's sleep 'n' plays have them, as do some Old Navy one piece sleepers.

An extra flap of fabric is sewn to the end of each sleeve. Just fold it over, and baby's hands are enclosed safely inside his sleeves. And unlike the mitts, he can't escape.

He can still give you a painful whap in the boob, but it hurts a lot less than it does when fingernails are exposed.

Weight Loss Plan for New Moms

Follow these steps and watch that baby weight melt away!

1. Get a total of 5 hours sleep, punctuated with hour-long nursing/feeding sessions. This will render you completely incapable of preparing any kind of hearty, nutritious breakfast--your last bit of brain power will be used to operate the coffee machine. Pour a bowl of cereal.

2. Sit down with your bowl of cereal and vat of coffee. Take 2 bites. Baby starts fussing. Pick baby up and attempt to eat with one hand. 3 more bites. Baby starts wailing. Get up and change baby. Return to breakfast, which is now a bowl of mush and vat of ice-cold coffee. Dump cereal in the trash, reheat coffee. 

3. Repeat step 2 for every other meal you might attempt to eat during the day (replacing the cereal with equally convenient, insufficient foods: sandwiches, Lean Cuisines, etc.). 

4. Consider trying to eat something while baby is napping, but fall asleep on the couch before you can pry open a can of tuna.

5. Voila! Baby weight just falls off.

The Unbiased Story of the Cutest Baby Ever Born

My prolonged blog absence and rapidly approaching end to my pregnancy could only mean one thing. It's true--my little chanchito has arrived!

Javier Joseph (J.J.) was born Saturday, February 2, at 11:49am. Despite our ultrasound tech promising us an 8-9 pound baby, he weighed in at 6lbs, 11oz, and 20.5 inches long.

If you're one of those people who prefer to imagine white storks traversing the earth, dropping off pink and blue bundles to expectant parents, feel free to stop reading right here. But if you love hearing other people's birth stories, then read on!

Friday, February 1, I got my hair cut in the morning (because, you know, soon I'll never have time to do anything alone, ever again!) and then made my way to my regular prenatal appointment. It started with an ultrasound, where we found out the amniotic fluid was very low. Then they checked my blood pressure, which had been high for the last several visits, and found it still elevated. So the doctor said the magic words: "You need to go have a baby--today."

A quick stop for lunch and to pick up my bag, and we were off to the hospital, checking in around 2pm.

I have to admit to being ever so slightly concerned about the nursing staff--2 nurses showed up to say hi, and then 1 said, "You know, I think I'll go get her chart!" Well, there's a novel idea. She came back a half hour later, and still didn't have it.

Finally around 5pm, I got the Cervadil, which was supposed to, and I quote, "ripen" the cervix. Ewww. Unfortunately, it did nothing but give me painful contractions. By 3am, I had made no progress, cervix-wise, and the baby was reacting badly to the Cervadil, so that phase of the induction was over. Next, I was supposed to get Pitocin to bring on contractions, but the baby's heart rate kept dropping whenever I had to get up to pee (which was fairly often, since they were dumping a bunch of fluids in my IV), or changed position. We waited until 9am for it to stabilize, at which point the doctor decided it was now or never. I was started on the lowest dose of Pitocin.

Contractions started again, but baby wasn't having it. His heart rate dropped after each one. I'm sure you can see where this is going: doctor swung by to announce that baby had to come out, and he wasn't going to do it the natural way. I was heading to surgery for a c-section--in 10 minutes!

I had almost no time to wrap my brain around it, which was probably a good thing. The c-section went smoothly, but I was absolutely heartbroken that after 9 months of carrying my little bichito around, everyone and their brother got to hold him before I did. I think they invited a homeless woman in off the street to give him a kiss. When he could, my husband brought him over to me to see, but it felt like hours until I was finally wheeled to recovery and baby was placed on my still-numb chest.

Still, the important thing is, we're all happy and healthy, learning to be a family.

And also, he's the cutest baby ever: