The good, and the really really bad and ugly

Well, the good news:

• Getting easier to get Logan to sleep in his bassinett. Sometimes.
  
• My nipples have toughened up so breast feeding no longer hurts.
  
• Incision is mostly healed up... just a slight crack left. No longer has to be packed. I can drive, as I'm no longer on pain meds. And since it's no longer trying to heal too fast (outside first, then inside), as it was packed until it behaved, I'm also no longer on blood pressure medication.
  

Bad news:

• Hubby and I have a sore-throat/cold.
  
• My Mom can't baby sit as she realized her congestive heart failure was going to make it too hard on her. She can babysit for a couple of hours at a time, but that's it. No "all day" babysitting while I'm at work. Dad can't as he works... he's 84 and he works. :P They need the money.
  
• Hubby's Mom can't babysit. Because she PASSED AWAY FRIDAY 1/18/2008. Put us all in shock.
  

She would have been 78 on 1/30/2008.

She was so good with Logan. And so sweet. She was a 2nd Mom to me. To everyone, really.

Hubby's in shock. Hubby's Dad is in shock.

Funeral was this past Friday, 1/25/2008. A bunch of family flew/drove in for it. Sister-in-law got in the Sunday after her Mom died, and was a big help both with Hubby's Dad and with Logan.

Hubby's Dad and Sister adore Logan. Hubby's Dad may try his hand a little at some babysitting, but we can't really hold him to what Hubby's Mom had agreed to. Especially after all the stress of losing Hubby's Mom.

However, Hubby's Dad does LOVE spending time with Logan. And he also ironically loves our dogs... and our dogs adore him.

Hubby's Sister threatened to steal Logan away this week. Had to watch Logan and Sister-in-Law CLOSELY. ;)

Logan steals the hearts of any adults who get to know him. :)

Thought my breast-milk antibodies were protecting Logan from getting sick, as even though Hubby and I had been sick for almost a week already, Logan was fine. But unfortunately, last night, 1/26/2008, Logan started sounding congested. :( Poor little guy...

So now all 3 of us are miserable.

Logan still smiles at us. I can't believe how happy he can be with us even when he's feeling like crap. He IS a little angel.

Not sure when I have to go back to work now. My HR thinks I only get 12 weeks from the date the baby is born. But my ObGyn's office is sure I get 8 (maybe 10 now) weeks of medical leave for the c-section. [8 is normal, but it may be 10 as I had complications.] And then another 6 weeks for bonding on top of that. So 16 weeks total. And my ObGyn thinks that my job is protected for 12 weeks from the END of my medical leave.

So, per my ObGyn, I get SDI money for the 8 to 10 weeks of medical leave, then another 6 weeks of money for bonding. But then I could stay out of work an extra 6 weeks w/o any income if I wanted to. But I don't think I'll take that option.

Confused? Sorry... it's confusing me too. ;)

Need to get my HR and my ObGyn's office to agree. Stressing me out.

If HR is right, I return to work end of February. If my ObGyn is right, I return end of March. Really hoping for end of March here, LOL! I hope to have everything figured out by then... taking care of Logan, and also who is babysitting him while I'm at work. That and I HATE leaving him. He's stolen my heart.

So... that's what's been happening...

Should have listened...

Wednesday, January 9th, 2008, I saw my Gestational Diabetes doctor, to see if the blood test I took the prior week indicated I had regular diabetes now that I was no longer pregnant. Thank the Lord, I did NOT.

I will have to get tested for diabetes once a year, at my annual physical, to be sure, however. The fact that I had gestational diabetes means I still need to watch my blood sugars to ensure I don't still get the full blown diabetes later in life.

My diabetes doctor is a real sweetie, and gave me and my hubby a few of her hand-me-down baby equipment, including a car seat and a swing. She's also a Mom, having an adopted son at home.

Before I left, she heard Logan poo. She asked me if I'd like to change him in the examining room.

I should have listened to my gestational diabetes doctor...

I should have changed Logan then and there, when my doctor offered me the opportunity.

But NOOOOOOOO..... I was sure he would "keep" until I was done grocery shopping and got home.

She said that I knew best, as I was the mother, and not to feel guilty if someone else said I was doing something wrong.

Heh. Me, know best?!?

I think his dirty diaper was why he started crying. In Longs. Full blast. Without cease.

I left a cart full of groceries in Longs while I went back outside (with him) to get his bottle and a pacifier.

I got a clue before going back into Longs and went ahead and brought back in his whole diaper bag.

Then I tried to feed him his bottle (pumped breast milk) with one hand while pushing the cart with the other and looking at the shelves. I'd often look back at him and realize the bottle wasn't centered in his mouth, or even in his mouth anymore! Just dripping onto his onesie.

Then he wasn't into the bottle anymore. And the pacifier didn't work. And he wasn't content with his car seat. And holding him in twelve different positions didn't work. And he kept getting heavier.

I looked at the line to the pharmacy, looked at my screaming baby, and headed for the checkout line. Purchased my items as fast as possible, then sat in the back seat of my car trying to breast feed -- I assumed that the bottle hadn't been warm enough... I had tried to warm it in the car using the car vents, with the heater on, when driving to Longs!), giving Logan some colic medicine, and holding him again. He was inconsolable, with maybe a few times he stopped crying.

Husband called my cell, heard the screaming baby over it, and offered to take care of the rest of my chores, LOL! He picked up my meds at the pharmacy, and also took care of some of the groceries I was going to get at Vons.

Wow. This is just NOT easy, LOL! My respect for my own Mom keeps getting higher and higher!!!

Hubby was like, "why didn't you drop him off with your parents or my parents while you went grocery shopping?"

"I don't know... I thought it would be EASY!" :) Doh!!!

When I got home, I changed him, breast fed him, and he passed out, in his swing.

Ok, this motherhood thing isn't as easy as I had thought it would be. ;)

Ok, I didn't think it would be easy. But holy smokes! It's often way harder than I had thought.

Mommy's First Day Out Alone

7:15 am:
I am up. Feed baby, burp baby, change baby. Repeat.

8:30 am:
Husband takes shower. Continued feeding/burping/changing, tried to sleep. Heh.

8:45 am:
I take shower.

9:00 am:
Husband cleans and re-packs my c-section wound.

9:20 am:
Feed/water dogs while continuing to feed/burp baby.

10:00 am:
Prep baby bag, purse. Put on maternity bra and clean t-shirt. Feed/burp baby.

10:20 am:
Kick dogs outside. Dry hair. Cuddle fussy baby. Brush teeth. Put on pants.

10:35 am:
Change baby diaper. Logan poops onto the changing table. Manage to chase the runny, newborn, breast-fed poop such that it doesn't coat Logan or his t-shirt. Finish changing him, and sterilize changing table. Put on outside clothes. Re-run bottle sterilizer. Put nipple on bottle of breast milk that was stored in the refrigerator.

10:55 am:
Ignore baby's crying so can run to bathroom and have upset stomach.

11:05 am:
Carry baby (in car seat), baby bag, purse, jacket, and car seat base to car.

11:10 am:
Install car seat base in MY car. For first time. With less than 3 hours sleep. And empty stomach, as was fasting for a blood test. First try to put it behind driver's side because instructions don't say it's ok to put in the middle. Fight with it, curse hands (which still have barely any feeling/strength due to gestationally-induced carpal tunnel syndrome), curse back (which keeps spasming at the odd angles I'm leaning over at while in the back of the car), and finally get a clue. Install son-of-a-b*tch/fraking/piece-of-crap base in middle of back seat, realizing that just because I didn't see that the instructions said I could put it there didn't mean it wasn't allowed. Installed beautifully.

When I later described my fight with the car base, Husband had to add "So easy, even a sleep deprived new Mother can do it". :)

Car starts. Yea! Last person to drive it was Husband on December 4th, when he rescued it for me from one of my doctor's offices. [On December 3rd, I got walked over to the hospital from my doctor's office, and admitted to have induction started.]

I haven't driven a car since December 3rd. Just feeling the steering wheel in my hands again... Happy Sigh. I have my freedom back. :)

11:30 am:
Drive to clinic for BLOOD TEST, which I was FASTING for since midnight.

12:00 pm:
Get blood drawn.

12:15 pm:
Stand in line at clinic to ensure they had current insurance info.

12:25 pm:
Realized that people who would have let me cut ahead in line when I was 8+ months pregnant will NOT do me any favors while trying to carry 10+ pound baby in 5+ pound car seat, plus baby bag plus purse. Logan starts to cry... but is ok once we're driving again.

12:45 pm:
Scarfing McDonald's drive-through while sitting at bank. HUSBAND drives up and parks next to me!!! He saw me 5 cars ahead at McDonald's, and once he got his food, assumed I was headed for the bank, and tracked me down. And got to be very amused hearing about my adventures so far. :) Gave me hug, told me he was proud of me, LOL! Logan thankfully stays asleep.

1:10 pm:
I finish preparing checks for deposit. Drive car around to drive through... and the bloody bank has changed it's drive-thru ATM's. And in the process, has forgotten to fill up the cool new deposit envelope holder. Shit. Drive back around bank, and wake poor Logan up taking car seat out with me to walk-up ATM. Deposit 3 maternity leave checks that I've accumulated, as I haven't had a chance to deposit anything since before I was admitted to the hospital to be induced back on December 3rd.

1:20 pm:
Drive around for a while looking for where the phone store is. [Know it's near the bank.] Ahah! There it is! Oh, crap! Wrong cell provider. Logan's crying.

1:25 pm:
Park. Get into back seat. Try to cuddle Logan. No, he's probably hungry. Give him bottle. Shit! Can't give him cold breast milk, and have no way to warm it up in the car. But why can't you give baby's cold milk? Ok, nevermind... he only got a few swallows. Pull him back out of car seat, and pull out a boob, and start breast feeding.

1:30 pm:
Guy parked to my right walks back with his Subway Sandwiches lunch. And proceeds to eat it there in the car. Whenever I look at him, he's NOT looking at me. Still, I do my best to cover my boob!!!

1:45 pm:
Stop by work with Logan's birth certificate so HR can photocopy it and file it away as proof that I genuinely have a son that warranted adding a name to our insurance. Bring son in as well, LOL! [Talk about physical proof. Although I suppose I could have pulled down my pants and removed the bandage to show off the c-section scar, just so they could be sure.] Hear again how the 8 weeks for c-section + 6 weeks for bonding really is only allowed to total 12 weeks for maternity leave from the date of delivery. Which doesn't agree with what ObGyn said. So maybe I have until mid March, maybe I have until end of February. Still not sure.

Well, 2 weeks more or less... still have all of January and definitely most if not all of February.

Various co-workers get to see Logan and go ooh and aah. :)

Sigh. Logan starts crying again.

2:30 pm:
Arrive at other cell phone store. Purchase new phone to replace the dead one I got wet when I answered it twice in the hospital bathroom, with an ear wet from the shower. Pull Logan out of car seat and hold him when he starts crying again.

Yea! All my phone numbers were stored on the sim card, and it survived the wetting of the cell phone!

3:00 pm:
We're both home. Bring Logan inside, and all the crap from the car. Let dogs in. Clean off hospital germs. Run through bathroom. Remove Logan's outside clothes, change him. Crawl into recliner and feed Logan. Wonder how the hell people do this.

I'd intended to also visit my in-laws, and go grocery shopping. HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!!!!!

Health update, and baby nicknames

My blood pressure is much better. The medication helped, but what really what seems to have made the biggest difference has been having my c-section incision cleaned and packed daily.

Hubby's theory is that my c-section wasn't draining properly, and that my blood pressure was high because my body was trying to get rid of the bad stuff by PUMPING it out.

For a while, had to go to ObGyn to get the wound packed daily. Was on call... meaning would get a phone call from the ObGyn sometime during the day asking us to come on down. No forewarning. Couldn't really plan our days ahead of time. Lovely.

[Before you think otherwise, I very much like my ObGyn. But so do 20 thousand other women! So it's a little hard to get in to see her in a scheduled fashion... especially when she's off doing emergency c-sections, etc.]

Then started having a nurse drop by daily. Received some forewarning ahead of time, which was good, because if they could at least give me an hour, I could take a shower before. And considering my attempts at keeping the wound dry while in the shower were failing miserably, the only intelligent options were to take a shower just before, pulling out the packing myself just before I hopped in the shower, or to STAY STINKY. Bleah.

Hubby was trained 2 days ago to clean and pack the wound. So now we can schedule things ourselves. Weee!!!

When he has to return to work, not sure if I should attempt to clean it myself or not. I keep flashing back to the movie Ronin, where Robert De Niro is looking at his gunshot wound with a mirror, and advising 2 other guys what to do to get the bullet out. You get the impression that De Niro's character has pulled the bullets out himself on occasion when he didn't have anyone else, and just had the tools and a mirror.

And really badly want to know when I can start driving again. My hubby having to take me to all these doctor appointments, and doing the grocery shopping, while he also has to go to work, is just not going to work well. He's already pretty damned wiped out. He's been on "vacation", but in spite of that, the last 2 days of very little sleep have made him nauseated. Consistently.

And it's not exactly been a wonderful vacation for him. He's been my slave. And I'm Logan's slave, of course!

Need to send hubby to Vegas with friends for a weekend. Badly.

I seem to be handling the sleeplessness a bit better. Maybe it's a motherhood thing, a switch getting thrown in my body to allow me to function. Not looking forward to when I have to go back to work on top of this no-sleep deal, LOL!!!

Sigh.

Baby has been given alot of nicknames thanks to our various experiences with him.

(1) "Little One"
(2) "Little Guy"
(3) "Logan Monster"
(4) "Ten-pound Tyrant"
(5) "Bottomless Pit"

1 and 2 are obvious. He's adorable. And he's little.

3... he can be a "monster". But we mean it affectionately. And it's mostly to accommodate the way we also talk to the dogs. Boss is "Boss Dog", or sometimes "B-Dog". Ellie is "Ellie Girl". Sometimes she's "Ellsibub", sorta like "Beelzebub", except there's nothing demonic about our Ellie Girl.

So Logan needs to be "Logan Monster". ;)

4... when he wants to be fed, he'd better be fed NOW. Even if he just wants another 5 minutes of food. It had better be now. "No, you may NOT take a bathroom break. No, you may not stop for a shower or to brush your teeth. What do you MEAN you need to eat and drink? NO, you must feed me NOW!!!!"

And when he pees, he wants that pee to leave his diaper NOW. But he also doesn't want his diaper changed. He wants the pee to miraculously leave his diaper. This whole changing thing is just way too inefficient for him.

Basically, it's pretty hard to please him!

5 has to do with how often he wants to be fed. And fed. And fed. Add to that the fact that he's not very, uhm, gentle with my nipples! And my hubby has started teasingly calling me a "moo cow".

Logan has made me realize that the perfect punishment for when he's old enough to do something wrong (and KNOW he's done something wrong) is to stick him in the corner and make him stand there... while wearing nipple-clamps. I keep threatening him with them whenever he makes me yip from pain.

He isn't getting anywhere near my poor nipples when his teeth start coming in. I am pumping WELL before we get there.

Thankfully, although he can be a tyrant, he's also really good at rewarding Mommy... even as he's making my poor nipples throb in pain. He makes this cooing noise that brings out emotions in me that I remember only having when holding and petting little puppies. Hubby calls it "mommy crack", i.e., crack-cocaine for mommies. It melts my heart. Which is good, because there are times that I've totally understood why someone might get frustrated enough to start shaking their baby!!!

I never realized babies could make positive noises. Thought it was all about screaming to high heaven at an ear-splitting frequency. But no, they actually make good noises, too. Oh, thank the Lord!!! :)

Anyway, in answer to my Sister-in-law's question from a few weeks ago, "no, we haven't killed him yet." :)

He's driving us crazy, but I still think Logan's a keeper. ;)

Don't break the baby...

We had our Sister and her boyfriend over at our house for Christmas. Logan isn't sleeping in his bedroom yet, so we shoved things around, and inflated a queen-sized blow-up bed in there. Infinitely more comfortable than the alternative: sleeping one person on my parent's ancient couch in the living room, the other on the floor. No door to close for privacy. No way to block out the light from the kitchen or the family room. Mom sleeping on the couch in the family room with a light on and the TV on, so...

Thought we were also sparing them the lovely beeping noises of the smoke detector that kept me up the 2 nights I slept on their couch in January, during the lovely termite-tenting of our house. But either the battery in the wall or in the smoke detector got replaced, or thankfully finally died. No beeping to be heard on Christmas Eve when we went over, LOL!

Anyway, my Sister and her boyfriend were arriving Sunday December 23rd, late in the evening. We took a look our baby, who hadn't had a bath yet. Who we had even been bad about just using a wet washcloth on his face. [His face was breaking out...] We'd been postponing a real bath until his umbilical cord fell off, but we'd even postponed just the "wash and dry a section at a time" version of baby bathing that we could have done in spite of the umbilical cord.

So, realizing we have a "welfare baby" appearance going on with our child, and knowing my Sister was on her way, we realized we needed to do more than just "feed the baby, change the baby, burp the baby, rock the baby". Needed to do more than just the bare minimum that appears to be sufficient to STOP THE CRYING.

We unpacked the baby bath kit. Hubby got the shower-attachment setup. [It's a battery-powered shower pump thingy that you dip one end into a water-holder. The water-holder has a temperature indicator so you know you're not about to freeze or boil the baby.]

The great hunt for the Johnson's Baby Shampoo failed miserably. [I had "hidden" it in the master-bath's shower.] So hair washing was to be done with the Johnson's Baby soap.

I put the baby bath kit into the guest bathroom tub. Filled the water reservoir. Watched the temperature indicator go up through "too cold" to "ideal", then crawl into "too hot". [Not the actual words on the indicator, but you get the idea.] Tossed some cold water in. There we go.

Removed baby clothing and diaper in other room, and brought baby in. Wiped Logan's face and ears and hands off with a wet washcloth first. Then wet his hair, washed that. Then wet rest of body and washed with a soapy washcloth. Then rinsed off. Wow. Baby is shivering. Wow. Really badly. Shit.

Hubby was watching, and we both realized that, as we'd been told, yes, babies have a hard time regulating body temperature! And washing/drying one section at a time was INDEED a better idea!

I picked Logan up and put him in a towel while hubby was taking care of something in the other room. Was in a hurry to dry baby. Baby is squirming like mad. While trying to get every part dry, realized his head was at a weird angle... shit, his head is hanging off the bathroom counter-top! Ack! Picked his head up and just grabbed him and the towel and headed for a better surface to finish drying him on.

Hubby meanwhile was hunting for onsies and socks, etc. We got him all suited up, covering every surface except his face. Hubby handed Logan to me, and I lay down and gave him all kinds of body-warmth, trying to counteract the hypothermia.

Phew!

We were wiped out. Apparently, so was Logan! He passed out and slept for HOURS after that trauma!!!

Eventually got him woken up to feed him. Then needed to change him. Hubby strapped him into his changing table as he's been getting more and more squirmy. I went over, took off the old diaper. Cleaned him. And then tried to lift him to put the new diaper under him. Hmmm... why can't I lift him higher? Shit! He's strapped down... I'm BENDING THE BABY IN HALF!!!!

Aigh!!!!!

Unstrapped the baby, finished putting the new diaper on him, and crawled back into bed with him.

I tried to break the baby. 3 times in one day. SHUDDER.

The next day, I was exhausted. Hubby had been telling me I wasn't resting enough. Mother-in-law was also like, "you're not resting enough." Sometime in the afternoon, I gave up, feeling guilty for apparently not taking good enough care of myself and feeling like I was getting punished for not feeling well, LOL. And crawled back into bed.

Well, this Christmas Eve, about 5 or 6 hours before we were going over to my parent's to celebrate. And of course, since it's Southern California, it was nice and cool in the bedroom this winter afternoon. NOT.

The afternoon sun hit. The room got up to mid to high 70's. And my post-partum body was having hot flashes. I'm trying to sleep, am keeping Logan close to myself so that he will sleep. Would wake up, and check his feet... his hands... his forehead. Was worrying now about heatstroke.

My Sister-in-law claims baby's are easier than dogs.

She's got to be on drugs. And she should be sharing.