Dr. Sears Says

So Im up late one night breastfeeding. It must be close to dawn, because the sky is changing to indigo, and the outlines of the trees are black.
I have the duck clamp lamp on. The dog is snoring at the foot of the bed. Amanda is tossing and turning in her sleep. The baby is grunting at my breast.
I am reading a Dr. Sears book my sister loaned me. I come across a chapter called "High Needs Babies". Could this be Jace?
High needs includes never wanting to be put down, crying at most everything, not liking for others to hold them...
This could be my son...
What cures high needs?
Co-sleeping, Babywearing, Breastfeeding.
I wonder to myself as I am up with the dawn, how did I get a fussy baby? I have felt myself relax exponentially since I've had my son. I never thought I'd be the one with a very unhappy baby. All of my girlfriends who have had children say infancy is when they are easiest. All they do is sleep and eat.
Not our son. He sleeps or not, cries at everything and nurses.


So this is how we came about curing Jace's High Needs attitude...

Co-Sleeping
Co-sleeping can include anything from your baby sleeping in a bassinet or swing, or whatever he'll sleep in at the side of your bed to the more extreme- baby sleeping in bed with you.
We started off with Jace sleeping next to our bed. We had great intentions for the bassinet. It made its way into our room before he was even born. We would look at it and smile. Soon it would be filled with our own bundle of joy.
Wrong.
Jace hates the bassinet. Mostly all we can get from it, is a few short minutes, where he cries, and we rock him in it, trying in vain to get him to sleep.
Then came the swing. We realized we could get a few short hours of sleep if Jace was in his swing. But he had to be going warp speed. Sometimes with the vibration on. Sometimes he would want his paci, and we would play a game where he would suckle it, spit it out, cry, we would put it back in his mouth, and this would repeat itself constantly.
Fast forward to a few sleepless weeks.
Several times a night Jace would cry to eat. I would get up quickly, change his cute little butt and take him to bed with me to breastfeed. Being as tired as I was, I would nurse his sweet, warm, baby smelling self, and rapidly nod out, like a drunk in an alley, or an old person in a recliner. I would wake up with a start! Had I dropped my baby, rolled over on him, smothered him as Drs would like you to believe? No.
There he would be, lovely as ever, sleeping in my arms.
There might be something to this, I would tell myself.
Next time I laid his little body next to mine, there in the half light of our bedroom, nursed him and we fell asleep together, as one family.
When I awoke, I realized something glorious. We had all slept great. Including Jace. My heart soared. When I say we slept great, I mean for several hours, no one cried including me. I mean the baby nursed when he needed, and seemed to sleep great, nestled there in our bed.
I know co-sleeping isn't for everyone. And there has to be some common sense attatched. If you lack that, simply don't do it.
Guard rails must be involved. Tight fitting sheets. No blankets or pillows near to smother baby. If you or your partner have been drinking or taking medication - Don't do it. Plain and simple.
But for us it is working. So far. Until it doesn't. And then we will find something else. Because for the baby to be better rested, and happy, that to me is priceless.
Besides, women have been sleeping with their babies for centuries. We are not idiots. We know how to care for, and keep alive, our children. Don't let the doctors and Tv and whomever else tell you that you are stupid and incapable. Because you are not. Make your own informed decisions, and lastly, do what feels right.

Breastfeeding

This is a given. Do it when baby asks. That means on demand. And be present. Look into his little blue eyes, talk to him. Stroke his hair or his feet or his sweet baby skin. It will instill confidence in him and create a stronger bond.
Simple as that.

Babywearing

So Co-sleeping kinda took care of nights. Babywearing also happened mostly by accident for days.
As I mentioned before, Jace cannot be put down. I mean like EVER. This resulted in me holding him all day, getting no housework done, because it's just impossible to do without hands, and then handing him off to Amanda the very nanosecond she walked through the door. It was hard to eat, hard to use the facilities. Hard to do anything but hold the baby and breastfeed.
I had four slings. I tried each and every one. Until I found one that worked for us. It was some mesh number that the baby clipped into. He faces me, his chest to mine. Because he's so small still, there's a little ledge to hold his neck up. He really wasn't fond of it at first. Each and every time, even now, I kinda gotta settle him into it, by bouncing him, speaking to him in soft tones, and sometimes offering a pacifier.
This allows me to sweep, eat, do laundry, let the dogs outside. Ya know, not a lot of stuff, but enough stuff so that by the time Amanda gets home to relieve us, I have less of a chore list to knock off.
However, just as with co-sleeping there are some things that are off limits when you wear your baby.
Anything involving hot water. Cooking on a stove. Using cleaning products. Any common sense thing that could harm baby.
Here are a few things I don't reccomend. Not because they harm baby but because they're awkward.
1. Putting on makeup. Look down. Baby will have flecks of eyeliner, blush, bronzer and eyeshadow on his head. He will look like a drag queen, or a circus clown.
2. Brushing your long hair. It will get into babies face. And baby will give you a "get it out of my personal space" look.
3. Eating popcorn. Long after you un-sling baby, you will find bits of popcorn in his diaper, his arm pits, under your boobs. Everywhere, as if you were eating it like a maniac. And probably you were.


So maybe there's something to what Dr. Sears says after all about comforting a High Needs baby. Don't take his word for it, or mine. Try it. Especially if you're dealing with a stressed out baby like we are. And try everything else under the sun until you find things that comfort your child. Because you want him to be happy as he can be. It's a ripple effect. It makes you happier, and your partner happier, and eventually, after some time, the whole High Needs baby thing will have seemed like a lifetime ago...

Animal House

Like most queer couples, we had a barrage of animals before baby came. And like any good family, as crazy as they make us, we committed to them, so we kept them, even though they don't really fit into our schedule of this new "baby infused life".

Any pregnant woman will tell you that she starts to get a little squirrely about having animals in her house, especially the closer she gets to the end of her pregnancy. Nothing will ever be clean enough, or safe enough. But hopefully most women realize it's the hormones talking and wont post their animals on craigslist or facebook through gritted teeth and sweaty anger.

I personally became pretty resentful of our five dogs, as I tied my apron around my big belly and swept a tornado of hair from corners and out from behind doors. It always seemed worse when I got to the kitchen, which also happened to be a perfect vantage point for me to give Amanda the stink eye, as she seemed to sink into the couch, looking like a deer in headlights or a nervous child. Luckily she always held her tongue as I toiled, and I am grateful today she never intervened, just letting me be pregnant and crazy.

It wasn't just the hair. It was the incessant barking. I wondered to myself as I cleaned, or fed (what felt like a whole fucking kennel of dogs) or bathed them, how often they would get under foot when the baby came, which of his toys they would chew up, how many times they would wake him (undisciplined bastards) as soon as I got him to sleep.

I felt horrible in spite of my anger, that my love for them seemed to have diminished, or taken a backseat. I knew that when the baby came, the amount of time we used to spend walking them and playing with them would be gone.

And It is. And all of these things Im saying are true. The hair still floats around the house. I still have to sweep every day. And some days I still curse Amanda (though it's not her fault), and the dogs as I pick hair off of the baby's onesie, or out of my eyeball. The dogs DO bark every time the mailbox hinges squeak shut, or every time they hear the neighbors talking, every time the freaking wind blows. They do get under my feet. And because the safety of the baby comes first, sometimes I do step on them. They have gotten to the baby's toys, they have had accidents in the house, they have made me feel like I'm going out of my fucking mind. I have even fantasized about their old age, and eventually their demise.

                                                                     Ciaya




But I know I could never live without them. Not even one of them. As much as sometimes I feel like I do.

I'm not saying these things are fixable, or they aren't. Im saying give it some time. Eventually you and baby and your better half will get into a routine, and the dogs will follow suit. Some days you will feel bad because you forgot to feed the little guys until 1pm. Some days you will pat yourself on the back because you spared some time to take one for a walk, or get on the floor and play tug with them all.

And as any good dog does, they will forgive you, for yelling, for being cold or distant, for forgetting they exist sometimes.

And hopefully because it's in your nature, you will remember why you loved them once, and carried them around like they were your children. You will find a greater way of doing things with your new plus one. Think of all of the fun the baby will have when he can chase the dogs around, throw balls with them, use their furry sides as leverage to pull himself up and learn to walk.

The dogs I think are really a vast blanket of symbolism for what is really happening in your life now. A whole lotta change. And I for one, have never been so good with that...

504 Hours

It's been almost a month since I've written anything. And not because I meant to take a break. But because the baby won't stop crying. Because When he falls asleep, most times I still have to hold him, and rock him, or he wakes and is inconsolable. Understandably angry because all he wants is sleep.

And I identify with him in the worst way. 

Which brings me to today's topic. Exhaustion.

Everyone says how tired you will be. When you don't have kids, you listen as they say this to you. Shake your head in agreement. Maybe even smile a little. It's a gesture my 4 year old niece does, when she's trying to appease you as you're speaking to her, but really she has no idea what the hell you're saying. It's the same thing. 

Because really you don't understand what tired is, until you've been up every half an hour in the night, to nurse, to rock, to pat the back of a fussy baby. To change a wet or poopy diaper...Breast milk spilling  down the front of your body like a roof leak. 

And then comes morning. And day. And the baby still does not sleep. Or if he does, it's in small hour long stints. Waking up and raising his little chubby fists. Hungry. Wet. Lonely. Gassy. 

When he does sleep, you do housework. Because after all, that is your job. Stay at home mom. Housewife. Home maker. 

When you are this tired-this tired-it feels like your brain is trudging through mud, the consistency of pudding. 

Easy things fuck you up. Adding sums in your head. Words escape you. Silly words like waffle or shoe. All of a sudden you cannot remember your age. Or what day or time it is. 

It's almost as if your body becomes sensorily numb to anything but the baby. 

Someone may touch your arm, and you may not feel it. One of the little dogs may have an accident at the door because you did not see his interest in going outside.

But also, It's such a wonderful thing. This fuzzy tired feeling.

Because you are there with this new love in your life. And he is warm and smells delicious, and is posted up in your arms, small gulping sounds as he nurses. And you watch the sun come up, changing from shadows on his face to a pink blush against his cheeks. 

Or you look over your jasmine tea, and he is smiling as he dreams, fingers and toes twitching against the blankets.
Try to remember all of these little details, because as they say, this time flys by. He is already almost two months old, and eventually he wont want me to rock him to sleep, or maybe he'll pull away when I try to smooth his hair, or rub his back.
So, yeah, exhaustion takes it's toll. I have heavy bags, yesterdays make up smudged at the corners of my eyes. My hair is unbrushed, and Im pretty sure I haven't showered or changed clothes....But how am I to remember.
But I am happy.
Down to the soul happy. I have everything I ever wanted. My love is in the other room, working on her art. The baby is asleep next to me in his swing. And I am thinking of them both, while I write this blog. I am wide awake and dreaming.