Nap Training

Dear Claire Bear,

You are a pretty good nighttime sleeper (I cringe as I write that because putting it out there on the Internet just seems like tempting fate). You generally go to bed around 7:00 or 8:00pm and wake up at around 4:30 or 5:00am. It took much work from both your daddy and I to get to this point. The first three weeks you slept in the bed between me and your dad. I had to put a stop to it because I'd have a little heart attack every time I woke up and saw that the blanket had creeped up closer to your face. One middle of the night I woke up with my arm over your head (over, not on).  Still, it freaked me out so much that I immediately started bawling (remember how in a previous post I wrote about how I was a mess the first few weeks?) and your father thought I'd cracked up.

So after that we moved you to a bassinet next to my side of the bed. What a joy it was getting you to sleep in your bassinet by yourself. Can you sense the sarcasm? You'd think we were putting you out in the doghouse in the backyard. We spent weeks soothing you a million times in the night. You're bassinet was stupid. The vibrate thing didn't work. So I read on the WB group that another Mom had taken the vibrate thingy out of the bouncy chair and put it in the bassinet. I tried it and it seemed like it would work but then I noticed
that it was slowly creeping it's way around the mattress and I was afraid it would bonk you in the head.

Then we tried the manual jiggling of the bassinet. It seems like your favorite thing to do was start to cry so that one of us would have to pick you up and bounce you. When you were calm we'd lay you ever so gently back down and the one of us would have to jiggle the bassinet (while shhhhing you) until you fell asleep. I can't count the number of nights I fell asleep with my arm over the side of the bassinet. I'd wake up when you wanted to nurse again with a numb arm and a sore shoulder.

Eventually you learned to take a soother and we learned the joys of swaddling and a routine and now we have it pretty good. I take you upstairs and we change your diaper, give you a quick spot clean and put on your pjs. We read a book and you get swaddled before you get a before bed snack. You get a burp and rock in the glider before I put you to bed and give you your soother. Most nights you stare around for a while and then go to sleep. Your nighttime grunting, groaning, tossing and turning will be an entire post to itself later on.

Naps, however, are a completely different matter. It's my fault. Back when I was much more sleep deprived it was easier to let you nap on me for an hour and a half and actually get a bit of peace than to fight with you to sleep by yourself. Plus I was too nervous to let you out of my sight much for the first few weeks. Definitely wasn't ready to trust your safety to the baby monitor. So far the longest I've gotten you to nap by yourself is 20 minutes. That isn't a nap. It's a tease. So today we started nap training.

I noticed you yawning and stretching around 10am. Here's how the first solo nap attempt went:

• Change diaper
• Quick snack
• Put in bassinet
• Soother
• Reinsert soother
• Reinsert soother
• Reinsert soother
• Gently pat belly to calm you down
• Slow down belly pats in hopes it makes you sleepy and I can stop patting before all the feeling leaves my hand
• Reinsert soother after your flailing hands knock it out
• Repeat
• Repeat
• Pin down flailing hands
• Pat, pat, pat.
• Leave room. Slow. Slower. Sudden movements will wake the beast.
• Accidentally step on creaky spot in floor
• Freeze. Don't even breathe.
• Coast is clear, make way downstairs.
• Remember that I forgot to turn on the bloody monitor
• Creep back upstairs and turn on monitor
• Practically float back downstairs so as to avoid any and all possible noises.
• Enjoy 30 blissful minutes. By enjoy I mean do the dishes.

Considering your current nap habits I count attempt number one as a win for naps. I'm sure if I had swaddled you the nap would have lasted longer but I'm trying to wean you off swaddling. I figured starting with naps would be easier. I am only just beginning to enjoy you sleeping through the night. I am not nearly brave enough to mess with a good thing. Yet.

Hugs and Kisses sweet girl,
Mommy

Not Imaginary

Dear Claire Bear,

I thought I should get this post out of the way so you don't get confused later on when I write about people you have never met as if they are close friends. I know I've already spoken to you and daddy about advice given to me by lots of different women. And when you are old enough to read this you'll probably say things like 'Hey Mom, we never knew anyone named Jane Smith, why does this recipe say it's from Jane Smith?" or "Why do you keep saying Jane said this? We don't know a Jane." No, I do not have imaginary friends and I'm not losing my mind (yet...probably). When I am quoting a piece of advice or mentioning someone you've never heard of, I am most likely talking about a fellow mother from an online facebook group that has become a huge part of my (and by association, your) life. Here's the story.


When I was pregnant for the first time I found an online pregnancy community to join. I am a researcher. I can't help myself!  I am that person who googles everything and tries to learn as much as I can about any given topic. You do not even want to know how many hours went into researching cloth diapers! So, I joined the June birth club as that was the month your sister would have been born had I not miscarried. I mainly went on there to ask questions that I didn't necessarily want to ask anyone I knew in person. It was a great place to get honest answers from mothers that had 'been there, done that'. When I miscarried I moved to the grief board on the same website. It was so helpful to be able to 'talk' with other mothers who were going through the same thing. It was also very encouraging to hear from mothers who had miscarried and then gone on to have healthy babies later. I continued on to the trying to conceive board and then finally moved to the December 2010 birth club. Some women made the exact same journey I did. Some I 'met' on the trying to conceive board and others I didn't 'meet' until well into our pregnancies.

As sometimes happens in online communities, there was a small bit of bickering and some differing opinions. It was enough for some people to start thinking about changing things a little. This resulted in the creation of a facebook group and then things got great! I consider the women of the Winter Babies facebook group to be my friends, support system, role models, and shrinks. We marvel at each others babies, commiserate with each others trials and are willing to 'slap a bitch' on the others behalf. The group has also rallied together for some very special moms and baby's in the group who needed some extra good thoughts and support.

I'm am 100% sure that my pregnancy and journey into motherhood would have been a hell of a lot more stressful if I didn't have those special women to 'talk' to. There were days when I was feeling so blue and I would go online and read a funny post and it would be enough to lift me out of my funk. I've found myself completely preoccupied with the struggles of some of these women and their beautiful babies. There's not much of a point to this letter other than to let you know about a group of wonderful, caring, supportive women across the country who have, though I have never met them, been such an influence on me these past months.

Hugs and Kisses,
Mama

Evolution of Love

Dear Claire Bear,

I can honestly say I love you more and more every day. I'm amazed that I can love anything as much as I love you. However, this feeling didn't appear the minute you were born and placed in my arms. Instead it grew day by day, exponentially it seems, and it's still growing with every gummy little smile and curious coo. One day (hopefully, far far from now!) you may decide to have your own children. I hope that you have the perfect 'love at first sight' moment when the doctor hands you your child. However, if you don't, I want you to know that it's normal. No one ever warned me that I might not feel the instant connection and I think that if I had known that what I was feeling was normal I think I would have been able to deal with it and move on much easier. Having you was the best decision your daddy and I have Know that I'm describe in the letter below how I felt at that time, when I was a hormonal, sleep and caffeine deprived, stitched up mess. It's not at all how I feel now and I'd voluntarily go through all of it 10 times over for you.


Before you were born I think I was so caught up in being pregnant and so preoccupied with the birth process that it came as a bit of a shock when they passed you to me, a little screaming, gooey, red faced baby, and told me you were mine. Even though I'd obviously thought about being a mother and looked forward to your birth I was completely unprepared and overwhelmed emotionally by the actuality of having a baby. Don't get me wrong; I'd read all the books to prepare myself. I had your nursery completed and a variety of stimulating toys for you. I stocked up on cloth diapers and all the other baby necessities. I had cleaned and re-cleaned the house. I stocked up the fridge and freezer with easy to cook foods for those days we just didn't get around to cooking dinner (which I foolishly thought would be the less frequent occurrence).


When I thought of the post-labour days, I imagined sitting in the living room with the Christmas tree lit up, staring into your little sleeping face and being overwhelmed with love and adoration. It didn't quite happen that way. When you were born I thought you were adorable but I didn't feel that 'love at first sight' that everyone always talked about. I changed your diapers and fed you and tried to keep you happy but it felt like I was babysitting someones baby. The immediate connection I'd been waiting for wasn't there. I just couldn't relate you to the baby that only the day before had been in my belly kicking and squirming and oddly enough I missed that baby (have you ever heard anything more foolish?). I felt trapped. Every thought I had or action I contemplated couldn't be about me. I couldn't just use the washroom or get a shower without thinking about where you were and if you'd be okay while I was occupied. I know now that it's pretty normal to feel a bit trapped and overwhelmed but at the time I thought I was already a horrible mother.


You were discharged on the 21st of December and your father and I foolishly decided to go about with our Christmas plans as usual. We would take you to dinner at one of our families houses and everyone would coo and exclaim over you and say things like "you must be so happy" or "you're going to be a great mom" and all I could think was it was all a lie. The minute I was alone I would start crying and I would only stop when your father took you and comforted you (he was so amazing with you from the very beginning). I felt so ashamed that I didn't tell your father what I was thinking. I just told him I didn't know why I was crying and that it must be hormones. It also didn't help that your Aunt had a baby just over a year before you were born and she was a natural. She loved being a mother from the first second and two days after giving birth she was up and running about (this was all my hormonal thinking, your Aunt was a huge help to us when we couldn't find the time to walk the dog or cook supper). I kept comparing myself to her and I looked exactly how you would picture someone who wasn't sleeping and had just pushed an 8 pound baby out of her vagina (and possibly broken her tailbone, at least that's how it felt and still feels three months postpartum). Wrecked!


Being sore and sleep deprived wasn't helping. Everyone tells you that sleep is the thing you'll miss most but I don't think it's possible to appreciate it until you actually have a baby. I knew theoretically that I'd be up at least every three hours to feed you but when you consider that feeding takes 40 minutes and you needed your diaper changed there was only about two hours between feedings). I thought I'd be able to handle it well. After all I used to routinely go to work on three or four hours of sleep a night. Apparently the fact that my previous sleep deprivation was voluntary made all the difference. Plus you were a good baby! Other than having your days and nights completely reversed and needing to be held a lot, you were very good tempered. I belong to a wonderful birth group (which I will dedicate an entire post to later) and some of them had colicky babies, some babies had health issues which required surgery or extended hospital visits, and these mothers were amazing. I thought to myself, if these mothers could so gracefully deal with way more stressful times I should be able to cope with one good natured baby!


So the point of all this is that for the first two weeks or so I was a wreck. I felt like my life was out of control and that I was a horrible mother. I cried all the time and I was terrified to be left alone with you. I had nightmares almost every night and I was on the very brink of talking to my doctor about post-partum depression. About a week after you were born I noticed that the day times were getting easier but as night approached I started sinking down again. After about three weeks I noticed that nights were getting a bit easier other than the occasional really bad night. I started getting to know you as a little person that was a part of me and a part of the man I loved and a part that was uniquely Claire Bear. After that things started getting easier. I was getting to know what you liked and disliked and getting more confident that I could care for you.


Your father was a giant help while I was going through this. I don't think he could understand what I was thinking (he has adored you since the second he saw you) but he didn't have to. He still got up with me when I was feeding you. He told me I was doing great and kept me looking forward to the time when I'd be healed up and feeling less like a basket-case. He convinced me that I wasn't actually going crazy (which when you know our family history you will, unfortunately, realize was a slight possibility).


I'm not sure exactly when I realized that I loved you so very much. I think it came in bits and pieces. Lying with you in bed while you grabbed onto my finger, seeing you focus on my face, that first gummy little smile; they all added up. I don't want you to think that I didn't love you from the start. I did. I just needed some time to get used to being a mommy.

Loving you more each day,
Mama

Friendly Advice

Dear Claire,
The letter below will give you an idea of how I feel after almost all of our trips to the grocery store. I am sure if you could properly express yourself you'd agree with me. I will try my hardest to keep you away from strange people who insist on invading your personal space. However, sometimes doing so would involve acts that might land me in jail and your daddy is too much of a 'nice guy' to tell little old ladies to back off. To stay out of jail I might have to stick to passive aggressive ways to keep the hoards away, so I apologize if someone slips through the defences every once and a while.
Love,
Mama

Dear old lady at the grocery store:

Here are some things you are not allowed to do:

• Paw at, kiss, pinch or otherwise touch my baby. Period. She is not public property and you've just been digging through the meat section looking for the perfect piece of meat that you can chew up with your false teeth. You can look but don't touch (didn't your parents teach you anything?). You wouldn't do this to an adult would you? Anyway what is so special about a baby? They are not an endangered species, you can see them just about anywhere. Why they elicit such a response in complete strangers is beyond me.
• Ask me if I 'tore' down there (yes this really happened!) or otherwise comment on my post-pregnancy body. Some conversations are not appropriate in public areas or with a complete stranger. I do not ask the condition of your lady bits or comment on the fact that your breasts are down around your knees so do not assume I am going to answer similar questions.  Nor should you take my not answering to mean that I want to hear about your birth experience 60 years ago and how it destroyed your body.
• Get offended when I politely ask you to keep your hands to yourself. On second thought, this doesn't really bother me, actually I kind of get a kick out of the shocked and/or offended look on your face. It will however serve to emphasise how annoying you are and will perhaps make me want to slap you.

And while we're on this topic here are a few more things you should probably refrain from doing:

• Rubbing a pregnant woman's belly.  How would you like it if a perfect stranger came up to you and rubbed your sagging bosom or your belly paunch? Not so nice now is it? 
• Tell horror stories to the pregnant lady in front of you at the checkout. A pregnant woman has enough to worry about without hearing horror stories about your daughters coworkers friends 36 hour labour, 72 stitches and her poor twelve toed, three eyed baby. She knows that bad things can happen, she doesn't need you exaggerating them.

That is all for now. If you continue you're inappropriate behaviour you will no doubt receive another letter.
Thank you,
The Stranger Whose Baby You Accosted in the Cereal Isle.

Mushroom Head

Dear Claire Bear,
Today we took you for your appointment with the physiotherapy and occupational therapy people at the janeway for your flat head. Yes you have a flat head, we'll get into that later. (sidenote: why exactly do they need an occupational therapy section at a children's hospital?).

Lets back up a second. You hate tummy time. Period. We have tried all the 'tricks' to teach you that tummy time is fun but it just ain't happening. The best result we've gotten so far is three or four minutes of you lying there with your head to one side licking your hand, followed by a whine or two then unholy screaming if we don't pick you up quick enough. You can keep your head pretty steady when we sit you up but actually pushing yourself up? Not a chance.

So we took you to the place and the therapist lady (whom you wouldn't let even touch you) showed us some 'tricks' to get you to lift your head. I was skeptical but lo and behold you performed like a trained seal! You were lifting your head like a pro. This proves that you already hold other 'professional authorities' in higher regard than either of your parents. I will remember this when it comes time to teach you to eat your vegetables, clean your room and adopt good personal hygiene habits. I can see it now, we'll have to dress someone up like a cartoon character and have them explain the benefits of vegetables using PowerPoint and pie charts. I have a feeling the 'because I said so' explanation is not going to cut it with you.

So the therapist felt your big head and told us that since it wasn't yet shaped like a mushroom you're still only slightly flat-headed and there's still hope! She also said it was probably due to sleeping for a long stretch during the night (but we won't really consider changing that! Remember there is a car in your future if you keep up the good sleep habits!). We are also supposed to put you down to nap on your side whenever we are there to keep an eye on you. I told the therapist that as soon as I can figure out how to a) make you take naps and b)lie in your bassinet during the day I'll be sure to mess it all up by rolling you onto your side. 

So we get home and put you on your tummy (doing the exact same thing we've always done) and you lift your head up straightaway. You will still only tolerate it for short periods of time but it's a great step in the right direction! We have to bring you back in two weeks so they can measure your head on the scale of 'round to mushroom' to check that you're not getting flatter. We are going to try our best but as your doctor says "a flat head means she has a flat head. Don't let her shave her hair off when she's a teenager'

Love you,
Mom

Better Late Than Never

March 21, 2010
Dear Claire Bear,
I know I'm a little late to this blog thing (since you're three months old and all) but it's taken this long to get over the fact that you are finally here and it's not all a wonderful (and sometimes terrifying) dream. I can't imagine life before you (and with the sleep deprivation I definitely can't remember life before you!) and I fall more and more in love with you every day.

The first month was a whirlwind of nursing, diaper changes, crying and sleep deprivation. I had a hard time with the baby blues for a couple of weeks but once that was in the past I could finally enjoy being a mommy. I loved you from the start, I just had to get to know you a little better before I finally realized you were mine. You've changed so much since then. I can barely remember the unfocused little baby who hated getting changed and slept all day and was awake all night.

You're second month is a lot clearer in my memory. You started becoming more of a little person who was interested in the world (and occasionally let your poor mama and daddy get a bit sleep). This, the third, month is just blowing me away. You change and discover new things daily. You're constantly laughing and smiling and now you're learning which toys you like best. Just this week you've discovered that you love being held facing outwards. It's a sign of your growing curiosity in the world around you. You still don't quite know what to do with those wiggly things on the end of your arms but they fascinate you. I'm going to try and keep posting to this blog fairly often but I can't make any promises as being your mom is a full time job. I've written down some random tidbits from the past months and I'm sure I'll remember more things to add.

• You make a funny froggy face just before you're going to cry (gives us a bit of warning). If we don't do something to remedy whatever has got you upset you start screaming. There is no building up to it...you just let loose. You're a diva that way.
• You are also pretty quick to calm down if we manage to figure out whatever is bothering you. However you don't like to let us think we've won so you keep up with the occasional yell for a few minutes afterwards, but we can tell you don't really mean it.
• Unless you are seriously freaking out, a diaper change will almost always calm you down. You are happiest when you're naked. I do hope you learn to enjoy wearing clothes at some point, preferably before you hit those dreaded teenage years...for your dads sake anyway. He's already having nightmares about keeping the boys away from you.
• In the morning you are sometimes awake for a half hour before we get you up. You're usually laughing and cooing and looking eager to start your day. Sometimes you get so excited to be taken out of your swaddle that you flail around excitedly and give a big open mouth happy-screech
• You've started sucking on your fists but you don't have great control yet. Sometimes you stuff them so far in your mouth you make yourself gag but you can't figure out how to get them back out again. Lack of hand/arm control also means you pull your own hair and pinch your stomach which then makes you cry. When we laugh at you, you look as though we've mortally offended you.
• You love when people stick out their tongue at you.
• You're more interested in hearing poetry than reading children's books. Shakespeare sonnets usually capture your attention for a few minutes.
• You are outgrowing all your little clothes at a fantastic rate. I tear up every time I have to put a tiny little outfit in the 'too small' pile.

Loving you more and more everyday,
Your Mama