rbo OMG

• GB’s job ended yesterday. This is the contracting job that he’s been doing since November. We knew it would end eventually, but not when. Day before yesterday, he was at work until nearly 3am (yes, AM) working on a super-deadline project. Then yesterday he went in and discovered that the case he’s been working on was settled. Surprise!
• This is a very good thing, in a way: GB gets to be home now, spending time with me and Waylon, which makes me (and GB, and Waylon) very happy. And I don’t have these super-long days with just Waylon and me. And we have enough money in the bank to not panic, yet, about that, so we’re mostly looking at this as a Very Good Thing.
• Though I’m still  a little worried about the money, but I think it’ll be okay. I get the first half of my fellowship money in September, and we’re about to start another job search for GB.
• In San Francisco.
• Yes, really. Whooohoooooo!
• Can we afford to live in SF? Well, no. We can’t. But we’re looking at it (again) as temporary. I’m on the job market this fall, and we have no idea where we might end up next year, if I get a job (uh, WHEN I get a job). So we’re looking at more contracting work for GB–enough to keep us in SF for a year. Seems do-able.
• Though, of course, now we have to find him that job up there.
• And we have to find an apartment. And convince them to rent to us with the shitty credit and the not-quite job and my money coming from a fellowship (which many landlords seem to think is not-quite-income, which I find confusing–what’s not-quite about guaranteed money for a year?).
• Oh, and i just discovered that our lease here is up on September 15.
• Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.
• That gives us less than two months to find GB a job up there; find an apartment; rent said apartment; hire movers (oh FUCK yes we are hiring movers this time around); and get the three of us, the four cats, two cars, and all of our belongings moved.
• Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I thought we had more time on this.
• Excuse me while I freak the hell out.
• Someday I want to try living in a city that is not so expensive that people (in other places) just laugh and laugh when I tell them what rents are like. Though, obviously, not next year.
• We also get to–once again–try to rent an apartment in a city we’re not currently living in. Which is a whole lot of complicated.
• I am so sick of moving. Seriously. GB and I have moved 9 times in the 12 years we’ve been together.  This will be number 10.
• And we’re moving again next year, most likely.
• I’m tired.
• But whooo! Back to SF! Hoping we can make this happen….
• Leads on jobs or apartments are welcome. Bring ‘em on. Also welcome: reassurance that we can, in fact, do this again.
• Also welcome: offers of moving help.
• Here’s a smiley Waylon, which helps with calming down my freakouts (it’s hard to get a good picture of him smiling, but damn, that smile is freaking awesome):

 

rbo angst

• Waylon’s baby acne is seriously out of control. I know it’s normal, but damn, it’s really unfortunate. Is there anything I can do about this? I know it’s not bothering him, but honestly, it’s kind of bothering me. It really looks awful.
• Ditto the cradle cap. My poor little boy is definitely at an awkward stage right now. Any cradle cap remedies, friends? I’m all angsty about my crusty, scaly baby.
• I’ve been avoiding the Lactation Consultant because of our 2-bottles-a-day decision. The thing is, the 2 bottles a day are working for us. GB gets to feed Waylon (which he loves); I get about 2 hours of sleep at one time (the most I sleep all day–I usually get about an hour at a time); and Waylon gets some extra calories. And he doesn’t seem to be having any trouble switching between the bottles and the Magic Boob (we’re using these bottles, which I think might help). But I know that the LC is not going to be okay with the bottle decision, even though I think it’s going pretty well. And I’ve stopped using the syringes to supplement, since he’s getting more in the bottles. So yeah. I’m avoiding the LC, because I am pretty sure she’s going to yell at me. Or at least look Very Disappointed, and freak me out about Waylon not wanting to breastfeed, which is clearly not the case.
• I’m avoiding her SO much that I bought a baby scale. You know, so I don’t have to be all dependent on taking him to her for the weight checks. Yes, it really is a whole new level of avoidance for me. Anyway. The scale is coming today, so I can check his weight here at home….then, I figure, if he’s gaining okay I can either go see her, or not…and if he’s lost weight or isn’t gaining well, I can, um, maybe talk to the pediatrician instead.
• I might have some issues. I’m just saying.
• I’m amazed at how long these days are, hanging out here with Waylon. I’m trying to figure out how to get us out of the house, but it’s not going so great yet. Mostly, I’m just trying to figure out how to negotiate normal daily stuff. It’s challenging. I have no idea how y’all do this. But I’m hoping I learn soon…
• I did finally get a sling that I like, so that will help, eventually. I love that I can put it on while I’m already holding Waylon–a huge improvement over the pouch slings, for us. Yesterday I actually went to 7-11 with him in the sling…okay, only about half a block, but it’s a start.
• Have I mentioned the not-sleeping? Yeah. In six weeks, there have been about three times I’ve slept for 2-3 hours. Mostly, I sleep in 45-60 minute bursts. I feel like a zombie all the time. It’s getting old.
• Challenge of the day: I have to figure out how to do a load of laundry. Actually, I think I may have to wait for GB to get home for that. I’m not sure I can figure that out. (It would involve taking Waylon out to the laundry room out back…and I’m not sure I’m coordinated enough to manage all that in the sling.)
• Dudes. If I can’t do a load of laundry (or eat, or sleep, or use the bathroom….) how the hell am I going to finish my dissertation this year? I haven’t worked on it in months, and I can’t even begin to imagine how to work on it now.
• Angsty bullets aside, we’re mostly doing okay. Waylon is 6 weeks old now! And I think the Zoloft is kicking in, because I’m angsty, but feeling like I’ll figure this all out eventually. Which is an improvement.
• Oh–and Waylon is smiling now! Which kind of really does make it all worthwhile. Really, I can’t get enough of those smiles. I haven’t gotten one on film yet, but I’m working on it.
• How are you guys?

 

dude!

Can’t believe I didn’t check this before…Waylon shares a birthday with (among others) Allen Ginsberg, Curtis Mayfield, John Paul Jones, Ian Hunter, and the keyboardist from Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Cool.

(Angsty post to follow…)

 

a.k.a.

H has a new blog pseudonym.

Say hello to Waylon.

I think it’s kind of perfect on a lot of levels.

 

remember me?

Hola friends. I’m still here. Still having trouble actually doing anything (including reading/commenting on blogs)–I am very much  looking forward to actually, you know, leaving the house and Doing Stuff someday.  For now, though, I feed H, and nap, and then it’s time to feed H again. And I still can’t get him to seem comfortable in any of my many slings, so I’m feeling like I can’t do much….but we’re working on it.

Anyway. We’ve been doing the supplementing with the syringes, which is such a gigantic pain in the ass I can’t even tell you, and H just pretty much screams through the syringes and shoots me such a stinkeye as you have never seen from a month-old baby. (1 month today! Whoohoo H!) But it’s working, apparently: he gained 7 ounces in 6 days, which is very good.

I have to say, though, that I am feeling incredibly tempted to just give him the supplemental formula in a bottle and be done with the whole syringe-screaming part of my days. (GB gives him the syringes when he’s home, and H screams through those too…and GB is pushing for the bottles over the syringes, too.) I know the lactation consultant (who is on vacation right now, but we’ll see her on Tuesday) will be all, OMG, don’t do it or he’ll never breastfeed again, but I’m not sure I buy that whole “nipple confusion” thing. I have these bottles that are supposed to be more like breastfeeding, and besides, I have this baby who is all about The Magical Boob, and I find it incredibly hard to believe that anything would keep him away from it. So yeah. That’s what’s going on here. I’m trying to convince myself that a bottle would not be the end of the world for him, and that we could still continue to enjoy The Magical Boob and give mama a break at the same time. And my sisters are all, he’s your baby, do what you think is right, and I’m all, Oh, I have to do it a certain way and is the lactation consultant going to yell at me? and what is the Right Thing To Do? So that’s exhausting. And I’m hoping I come around soon.

Hey, how was that for a ramble? H is napping with grandma in the other room and I am so enjoying the rare typing with two hands.

Okay. I look forward to rejoining the world and the blogosphere someday. I miss y’all. Feel free to offer me the Cliff’s Notes version of your recent events in the comments here, because the feeds are starting to stack up in my Bloglines.

Gratuitous Baby Picture, titled “If my baby’s so tired, why won’t he sleep more than an hour at a time?”:

 

oy, the stress

Turns out that my little milk junkie is really just a recreational user. He’s not actually, you know, *eating*.

We’re lucky to have a really awesome lactation consultant. She works out of our pediatrician’s office, and she actually taught all of our baby classes. She has a clinic twice a week where we can go with questions and to get weight checks done.

Which is how we learned that H has only gained 2 ounces in the past week. Which is not enough. She sent us home on Tuesday with instructions to really work on pushing him to eat–he’s a very lazy nurser, and he pretty much just wants to snooze on the boob. (Who doesn’t, really? It’s not that I blame him.) Anyway. I spent 48 hours trying to feed him as much as I could, and he spent those 48 hours acting like he was starving and refusing to let anyone else hold him. And we went back today to learn that he hadn’t gained any more weight.

At which, of course, I started crying, making the lactation consultant spend part of her valuable time patting me on the back and assuring me that it’s really H’s fault, and not mine, and that he’s fine, really, and we can fix this.

Anyway. So as of this afternoon, H is getting supplemental formula from syringes, to reduce the whole nipple-confusion issue (which I’m not sure I even buy, but whatever, and I do want to keep breastfeeding after this whole supplementing thing is over, so I’ll work with it). He seems very confused about the whole thing, understandably–why has mama gone crazy and started pulling him off the boob to give him weird-tasting formula at what must seem to be random intervals? But he’s being a trooper, and I’ve been assured that this will help with the weight gain.

And I am so freaked out that I lack the skills to keep my child alive that I may give up even the tiny hour-long naps that have been keeping me alive in favor of just Worrying Full Time.

Anyway. Still waiting for the Zoloft to kick in–I’ve been taking half doses, but I’m going up to a full dose tonight. Still counting on things getting easier soon. Still getting randomly weepy remembering my Old Life with the drinking and the bars and the kissable friends.

Still also loving the hell outta my boy, though, so that helps.

I am really hoping to get back to blogworld soon…I’m reading blogs, but not commenting yet. But I miss y’all. I’ll be back around….

Gratuitous H picture: he’s got the blog-anonymity thing down.

 

hanging on

Many thanks to Ursa for checking to see if I’m still alive, and to all of you who’ve checked in on facebook and various other venues. I am, in fact, still alive, and hanging in there…barely, but we’re hanging in.

My sweet boy has decided that the only acceptable place to be if he’s awake, or barely awake, or almost asleep, or waking up, is at the 24-hour buffet. And he’s not okay with anyone else holding him–not even his awesome daddy, who can usually soothe him with no problem. H. is now about All Mama All The Time. It’s exhausting, and it’s hard to blog one handed. I keep worrying that he’s not eating enough, but i think he’s just not eating much at a time–he’s a bigtime snacker/comfort nurser. I’m not entirely sure how to fix this situation, and I’ve been too tired to try very hard, honestly.

And having my mom here is hard. I’m not entirely sure that the benefit of her being here outweighs the stress and lack of privacy (I mentioned it’s a 1 bedroom apartment, right? And mom is in the one room with a door, and GB and I sleep in the living room? It’s our choice, of course, but it’s not very  private, and GB is starting to feel very claustrophobic). She can’t do a whole lot with H, since he mostly just wants me, and she tries to help with other stuff, but overall it’s kind of a tense situation.

And I still have no appetite, and I think that’s related to my new Giant Stomach Pains–though those could be coming from the antibiotics, too. Or the Zoloft, which I’m also trying to get used to.

And we still can’t manage to get out of the house, ever, since all I still want to do is sleep.

So yeah. It’s kind of a hard time here right now. I keep saying–and promising GB–that things will get better, and I do hope that’s true. Sooner would be better.

But my boy keeps getting cuter. Here’s my sweet li’l sleeper:

 

drugs good

i hope, we’ll see.

i went to the doctor today because i had a fever and chills last night. i saw the nurse practitioner, who i always like. she wasn’t sure where the fever is coming from, but she prescribed me a broad, breastfeeding-friendly (as much as possible, i guess) antibiotic.

Then she came out to the waiting room to meet H., who was with my mom. My mom–in a move that both annoys and pleases me–asked me, “Did you ask her about the antidepressants?” Which of course I hadn’t, but then I kind of had to. I said i was going to ask at my next appointment (in 2 weeks), but the NP said, Why don’t you just start one now, and then check in with the doctor on it at your next appointment?

So I sit here now with a shiny new bottle of Zoloft in front of me–apparently the “best choice” (according to everything I read) for BFing moms who need Serious Medicinal Help. And that would be me. I haven’t taken it before, but it’s supposed to work for anxiety, panic, and OCD (like my beloved Lexapro), but with fewer effects on the baby.

So here’s hoping.

I do generally hate the process of going on a new SSRI…with the celexa and lexapro i got (severe) hot flashes, nausea, fatigue. I’m hoping this goes better, but I guess toughing it out for a week with crappy side effects beats Crazy Anxiety from Hell That Makes Me Nonfunctional.

Right?

(They also rechecked my TSH–i have hypothyroidism from long before i was pregnant, you’ll recall, and i know it can sometimes swing the other way postpartum, so that may be something too.)

All in all, a good appointment, and I’m hoping this all starts working well, and soon.

Gratuitous baby-post-sponge-bath photo ahead:

 

mamas, a question

Because, yes, you all are more helpful than my pediatrician. Or my mom, unfortunately.*

does anyone have experience with breastmilk jaundice?

H had his 2 week appointment today. he’s gained a little weight–less than i’d like, but a normal amount, apparently. He was 7 lbs 12 oz last tuesday, and 8lbs 2oz today (so 4oz over his birthweight). But he’s still a little jaundiced, so he had to have another heel stick (I didn’t cry at this one though, so i guess that’s progress).

The doctor just called me back and said his levels aren’t bad–11.5 (he was at 13 last week).  He thinks it’s breastmilk jaundice and said we can do one of two things. Apparently, stopping breastfeeding for a day should clear it up–but H is exclusively breastfed and has never had a bottle, and I really don’t want to do that if we don’t have to. He said we could also just not do anything–since his levels are low, and the dr. says it’s not dangerous, anyway–and then we can go get him checked again in 2 weeks.

So–if breastmilk jaundice isn’t dangerous, and we can wait 2 weeks to get rechecked, why would I want to stop breastfeeding for a day to clear it up? that seems unnecessary to me (and the dr. agreed we don’t need to)–but am I missing something? I’m not wrong for not wanting to do a day of formula to fix something that is supposedly not a big deal, am I? Advice on this would be greatly welcomed…

(In other H-related topics, have I mentioned that I think I have some PTSD from H’s birth? I really do. I think GB has some serious trauma stemming from the birth, too. I may blog more about this at some point…It’s weird; neither of us can talk or think about it, and I can’t even think about birth in general without serious anxiety at this point. it really was much, much, much worse than either of us were expecting…and it’s not getting much better in retrospect. GB and I have both noted that we’re just waiting for the memory to fade, really. I think this may be contributing to my current anxiety levels…)

ETA: I almost forgot to include a picture of my gorgeous 2 week old boy!

*we’re switching to another doctor in the practice…though i’m not sure how to solve themom thing.

 

am I…

…a bad mama already?

Or am I maybe a smidge depressed?

Friends, things here are hard lately. H is a super sweet baby and we are completely smitten with him. But he does love the all-you-can-eat buffet (aka “mama”), and he pretty much wants to snack all the time. Because I got all worried about the jaundice last week (and because of course I am not about to refuse him anything anyway), I am pretty much fine with letting him snack and nap all he wants. But it’s a little tiring, I have to say.

He doesn’t sleep so great at night, either, and that’s wearing a little thin. During the day–when he’s not at work–GB is awesome with H. He can calm him down like nobody’s business, and he hangs out with him so I get some sleep. The deal, then, is that I pretty much take the night shift–since GB needs to sleep enough to be able to work during the day, and all H wants at night is me, anyway.

This is all fine, but it means that I’m sleeping in 1/2 - 1hour spurts. Last night I put H in bed with us (in his Snuggle Nest–which still freaks me out, even though he’s not *right* in bed with us, but I was desperate) and he slept longer–almost 2 hours. And I know this is all normal and fine. But I’m tired, friends.

And more than that, I feel like I might be kind of a failure already. All the things I intended to do with H–co-sleeping and babywearing, specifically–are not so much working out. I want him right in the bed with us, but I’m too anxious that way–I feel much better having him in the cosleeper next to the bed with the movement monitor on. But then I feel like a big loser for not having him right there with us. And I keep trying to put him in the sling (I have 3 pouch slings and a Moby wrap, and a Bjorn–so lots of options), but I can’t get him in there so he looks comfortable and then I’m like, why can’t I get it together to put him in the sling? What is wrong with me? And yes, it’s true that we don’t really go anywhere yet (which is also an issue), and that either GB or me or my mom are pretty much always holding him, but I still feel like I should already have the sling thing down, and what is my problem, anyway?

And when he’s asleep, all I want to do is sleep too, since obviously that’s all the sleep I’m getting. And when he’s awake, I’m feeding him. And then I’m worried that we’re not doing enough with him, that he should be getting way more tummy time than we’re giving him (according to our lactation consultant/physical therapist, who I really like), that I suck because I’m not playing with him or reading to him or carrying him around. That I’m just the anxious, sleepy mama who can’t even manage to get a shower, let alone bathe my slightly crusty baby.

GB thinks I need to talk to someone (and I’m not sure who that would be, anyway) about maybe getting back on those antidepressants. But I’m worried about taking them and breastfeeding, and I don’t know if the ones that are breastfeeding-compatible (somewhat) will do anything for me anyway, and there is no freaking way I’m stopping the breastfeeding when really, it’s the only thing I feel like I’m doing right at this point (I hope–I’m anxiously awaiting H’s next weight check on Wednesday).

Sigh. I’m rambling. I’m tired. My baby rocks, and I know that it sounds a little crazy to be worrying that I’m already fucking things up. Is that crazy? Will I eventually get this all together? Or am I just off to a crappy start?

Oh, and my mom is helping out a lot, and is also completely stressing me out, and I’m not sure which side of that is winning. It’s a toss-up.

Okay. I needed to vent a bit. H is peacefully sleeping on Grandma’s lap right now, and I’m going to take a half hour nap (I hope), and then I *might* try to shower, though I think that’s a bit ambitious.

My boy is getting more handsome every day, though, despite my parenting difficulties. Thanks, y’all, for encouraging the posting of pictures…I do like sharing him with y’all. Here’s my sleepy little tyrant: