Laboring — In All Its Many Stages

Earlier this evening I was waxing nostalgic because my sister-in-law is in the hospital AT THIS MOMENT giving birth. Here was my status:

Thinking about [sister-in-law] in labor right now kinda makes me want to have another baby. It’s just such an amazing and exciting time – the prospect of meeting a whole new person that you helped make, and who will have his/her own personality, and who you will spend a lifetime loving. A-mazing.

She commented back, “You can take my place right now if you want! 😉 this is so not fun!”

In short order, my sister-in-law will find that everything she endured during labor was ALL worth it.

And I guess that’s something that, as a parent, you continually need to remind yourself of. Because as is wont to happen during child-rearing, you find yourself in a “stage” (and aren’t they always stages? It’s just a series of never ending stages?). We currently are in A STAGE with Bean. And if we don’t get out of THIS STAGE soon, I think I might have to go into her mouth and start pulling the non-protruding teeth out with a pliers. Because I’m just not so sure how long I can handle THIS STAGE.

Teething. Ugh. It seriously is nev-er end-ing. It was really, really bad about a month ago. And then it was better for a week or so. And now it’s just depressingly bad and annoying again. It’s the crying. The crying and the clinging and the crying. And the taking extra, extra long (along with extra time and attention from us) to fall asleep at night, the waking up in the middle of the night, and the waking up too early in the morning. Dear Bean’s teeth: PLEASE COME OUT NOW.

The fact that I was all nostalgic about having another baby, and then a mere 15 minutes after my “here and now” children arrived home I wanted to hide in closet with cotton stuffed in my ears, is just typical. Typical of what every parent goes through.

Even when you have the benefit of an older child, and you rationally know that these stages don’t last forever, it just FEELS like forever sometimes.

But, as in the case of labor during childbirth, the “labor” of raising a child is worth it (and this is oh so much clearer when your children are asleep, are not crying, screaming or otherwise clamoring for attention, and you are enjoying some free time).

Bye, bye, bye?

Speaking of stages, I spontaneously decided to wean Bean (hey, as Monkey would say, “that rhymes!” She has been rhyming some choice words lately, but more on that some other day) from the nuk tonight. You may remember we’ve been considering this for awhile. I wasn’t really planning on it. I was just annoyed with all the crying and carrying on at bedtime, and it just seemed like the nuk wasn’t helping. So why even bother with it?? We had experimentally cut the tip off of one of her five remaining nuks two months ago, just to see her reaction. It was pretty funny. She kept playing with it in her mouth. Taking it out, looking at it. Popping it back in. All the while not sucking on it. Her reaction pretty much mirrored Monkey’s when we did it to her.

So tonight, after my third trip into her bedroom to give her back the nuk she threw out, I decided to replace it with the one with the severed tip. She took it fine. Laid down. Played with it in her mouth. Of course I had to sit in the chair next to her crib until she fell asleep (because I tried to just hug her and leave three times and that sure didn’t work), but she had no issues with the nuk.

I honestly think she’ll be fine. We’ll keep giving her nuks with the tips cut off for the next 5-7 days, and I think she’ll just lose interest. We did the same thing with Monkey and finally on the seventh night or so, we just didn’t give it to her and she never even noticed. I’m hoping the same will happen with Bean.

I feel like Bean doesn’t even really need it like she thinks she does. She does more chewing on it than she does sucking. And it’s starting to become more and more of a crutch for us. Since she’s been so crabby lately, we’re starting to shove it in her mouth at the least provocation (aka, ALL THE TIME).

So we’ll see what happens.

Not much crying, but still teary

Speaking of the Beaner, her tear duct probe surgery turned out to be SO totally fine and not nerve-wracking at all. Thank you everyone who said prayers, wished us luck, or sent us positive thoughts.

The nurse gave her some sort of liquid sedative, which she warned tasted awful, and Bean proved by spitting most of it out. But apparently all she needed was a little bit to take the edge off. And then miraculously, when the anesthesiologist came to take her, she went right with him!!! She looked out the door, interested in all the action going on, and never looked back at us. No crying, no fuss. I was happily stunned. Oh! And I didn’t cry at all either!

The ophthalmologist performing the surgery came out to talk to us about 10 minutes later. Yes, seriously. He was able to get the probe about 75% of the way through (he warned us in advance that if it became difficult to pass the probe he would stop and not force it). Since he wasn’t able to get the probe all the way through, the procedure doesn’t have as high of a success rate (80-90%), but still better than 50-50.

Another 10 minutes passed and the nurse came to get us, saying that Bean was awake and we could come and be with her. Much to the amusement of the nurses, when they woke her up and a female nurse reached for her, she burst into tears and reached for the male anesthesiologist again! I don’t know, she must have thought he was cute!!

By the time we got to her she had been crying kind of hard, but she calmed down right away. After a pulse and oxygen test, we were out of there. The procedure began at 7:30 a.m. and we were back home by 8:20. Crazy!

Unfortunately for us, I don’t think the procedure worked. The ophthalmologist said that we would know for sure in 2-3 weeks, and it’s been just over two weeks. So far, Bean is still tearing. Her eye isn’t getting as gunky, but it’s definitely still tearing. Argh. If it doesn’t improve in the next several days, then I guess we’ll ultimately have to schedule an appointment at Children’s to have a tube placed in her tear duct to keep it open.

What the ophthalmologist failed to mention the first time he talked to us about our options, was that in most cases, the tube can be removed through the nose in the doctor’s office — thus it won’t require two procedures like I’d previously thought. I really wish I had known this because I think it may have been in our best interests to just do the tube procedure in the first place. While I’m no longer a nervous nelly about the anesthesia for the second procedure, the probe wasn’t cheap, and I don’t want to have to pay for a second surgery.

The royal marketing machine. I mean, wedding.

I have a mild interest in the wedding of Prince Whatshisname? Right. William. I seriously had to think about it for a minute. I still couldn’t remember and I had to ask my husband. Prince William and Catherine (who will no longer be known as “Kate” post-wedding) Middleton.

So I’ve been paying pretty minimal attention. I’ve glanced at the occasional article on People.com, but the idea of getting up at 4 a.m. to watch it was ridiculous to me. And I certainly wasn’t about to DVR it, because I don’t have six hours to watch it at some later point at my leisure. More importantly, I don’t have enough space on my DVR. I do regularly keep up with pop culture, but I figured I would just catch some highlights and call it a day.

And then … I thought, but this is one of those things that happen in a lifetime. One of the (thankfully non-tragic things) that people will always remember and talk about it. This is a huge pop cultural event. I think I kinda want to see it live. Plus, who doesn’t love a good wedding?

But still. It’s just not that important to me that I want to drag my butt out of bed at 4 a.m. to stare bleary-eyed at my TV screen for five hours. I have to do something else with that time.

And then I realized there are any number of things I could do with my time if I did indeed decide to get up at 4 a.m. And watching the Royal Wedding would make those tasks a little more enjoyable. (I do have a history of working during the wee hours of the morning anyway, so what the hell.)

For example:

• Paying bills and balancing the checkbook (I absolutely abhor this task and I tend to put it off; it MUST be done tomorrow)
• Folding kids’ laundry
• Ordering a swimming suit from Lands’ End
• Checking flights to Vegas for my future sister-in-law’s bachelorette party

I will not, however, be throwing a viewing party. Unless for some reason you wanted to come over and balance your checkbook too. Or, in case my favorite neighbors wanted to stop by with Starbucks and doughnuts. I’m just saying. I’ll make sure to dress appropriately. And by appropriately, I don’t mean with royal wedding-watching garb. I just mean with clothes on.

If you’ll be watching too, facebook me. And don’t forget the doughnuts!

Letter to My Three-Year-Old

When I looked at you in the rearview mirror this morning on the way to your Nana’s house, you somehow looked older. Your hair was all curled up thanks to the layered haircut you got last week, and your bangs were swept to the right side and held by a magenta flower hair clip. You were looking out the window and I felt like I noticed a difference from yesterday when you were two, to today when you’re officially three years old.

I glanced at your sister on the other side of the car, who was looking out the opposite window, and felt like you just looked like that — it seems like yesterday when you were 14 months old.

Monkey, 14 months

14-month-old sunbather

THREE YEARS. It’s been three years since my life changed in the most wonderful and miraculous of ways. It simultaneously feels like less and more time has passed.

Monday, April 21, 2008, 12:30 a.m.

You were born at 12:30 a.m. after an hour and a half of pushing. It took your daddy two tries to cut the umbilical cord and then they laid you on me, all bloody. It was what I wanted. I remember feeling absolutely amazed at what had transpired. I couldn’t stop saying to your daddy, “I can’t believe we made her.” It was truly the most remarkable and miraculous thing to happen in our lifetimes.

There really was no hope of sleeping after you were born. By the time we made it up to the recovery room, it was 2 a.m. The the nurse gave you your first bath and we didn’t try to go to sleep until around 3:30 a.m. Your daddy fell asleep immediately, but I couldn’t sleep. I just kept staring at you and touching you to make sure you were still breathing. I was on such an adrenaline high.

One-day-old Monkey

Monkey, you are such a joy. Your personality is SO BIG. You are exuberant. You are alternately sensitive, yet defiant. You want to be heard. Things always have to be done a certain way. You are stubborn. You are empathetic and concerned about the well-being of others. You are confident in your own opinions. You want to feel included at all times. You are caring and nurturing.

You get many of these traits from me. While it has been challenging for me at times to deal with my own personality, I think I’ve got it figured out, and I think it will serve you well, too.

You love Dora, chocolate, ice cream and anything sweet. You love to be outside. I think I could push you on the swings for three hours until my arm fell off and you still wouldn’t be tired of it. You want a dog. You want to help with everything, including making every meal. You ask to help wash the dishes every night and you want to help with the laundry and unloading the dishwasher. You take great pride in your accomplishments and you basically want to do everything by yourself. You love to bake with me. Your curiosity is unbridled. You have an amazing memory. You’re creative and want to draw, color, paint — and your latest — cut with a scissors. You still love to cuddle, and sometimes when we lay down with you at bedtime you ask to hold our hand. (I heart this).

You probably are one of the funniest people I know. Obviously, I’m biased, but you make me laugh out loud on a daily basis. When one of my aunts sees pictures of you, she says, “I can just see her thinking, ‘I’m so funny’ because you probably tell her that every day.” And I think I do tell you that almost every day.

You are learning how to identify and express your emotions, and you communicate in such a way that it makes me feel like you’re older than you are. You listen to everything we say and ask questions about difficult subjects that I’m not sure how to explain.

You continue to become your own person and I’m in awe of the process. I’m also a little nervous. Because from the moment you were born and every day since, you’ve taught me how to be a parent. You’ll always be my first born, my test case, the one I make the most of my mistakes on.

It was a slightly terrifying time to be a first-time mother, feeling overwhelmed and incapable, and in typical “you” fashion, you didn’t make it any easier on me. That’s okay though, because you force me to be my best. And I want to be my best for you. We’ll keep figuring it out together. So far, I think we’re doing a pretty good job.

I am so happy to be your mama.

She looks so big here that it kind of takes my breath away.

April 21, 2011 - Someone's sister wasn't interested in a birthday morning photo shoot.

Happy third birthday to my great big girl.

No More Tears?

Bean is having a tear duct probe surgery on Wednesday. The tear duct on her right eye has been partially blocked since she was born, and it’s really not uncommon at all. In fact, both of Monkey’s tear ducts were partially blocked when she was born and they didn’t open up until she was almost three months old.

But despite my painstaking efforts to massage the corner of Bean’s eye every day, her duct remains stubbornly narrow. It has improved since she was first born when it would get very crusty, especially after a night’s sleep, but it hasn’t completely opened.

Finally, at Bean’s one-year well check appointment her doctor advised that if the duct hadn’t opened on its own by the time she was a year old, there was a very low probability that it ever would, and referred us to an ophthalmologist.

The ophthalmologist agreed with the girls’ pediatrician, and advised that while we could take a “wait and see” approach, the longer we waited the less likely a “simple” probe of her duct would work, and the more likely he would need to do a more invasive procedure like put a tube in her tear duct (which obviously would have to come out at some point, meaning there would be two procedures).

Sigh.

So we opted for the probe surgery sooner rather than later. Thankfully the blocked duct hasn’t caused any eye infections, but she pretty much has a tear streaking down her cheek at all times.

I feel like the ophthalmologist and the surgery center have prepared me pretty well for the procedure — basically the doctor will pass a tiny, blunt metal wire through her tear duct to open it. It should only take about 20 minutes, she shouldn’t experience any pain after the procedure, and it has an 85-95% success rate in children who are one-year-old or younger (Bean is 14 months, so those are pretty much her odds of success).

BUT

She’ll have to undergo general anesthesia, which you know, carries risks, up to and including death. And that kind of freaks me out.

I know, I know. That’s a little dramatic, but she’s still so little and she’s my baby.

This tear duct probe is apparently one of the most minor of minor surgical procedures. However, even the girls’ pediatrician acknowledged that it’s not a “minor procedure” when it’s your kid. She admitted that when her son required eight stitches last month she nearly fainted — and this is a woman who’s stitched MANY kids, just never had to go through it with one of her own.

I’m still waiting to hear back from the anesthesiologist, but from what the ophthalmologist said, this won’t require a very deep sedation (nothing intravenous, only some gas), which reduces the risks of anesthesia — it still doesn’t eliminate the chance of death though.

So yeah, I’m a little nervous. Sue me!

I’m guessing there are lots of you who have experienced this with your young children. Especially because I’m sure having tubes placed in a baby’s ears requires general anesthesia and it seems like I know many people who have had that done. Right??

So how did you deal with it? Any tips? How did your baby/toddler react? The surgery center nurse advised me to bring along a nuk (so glad we haven’t gotten rid of that yet!) and her lovey and blanket which she can bring into surgery with her. (OMG, just the thought of them wheeling my crying, screaming baby away while she clutches her lovey and blanket brings me to tears now. Ah!)

The nurse said that we can be with her in the recovery room within 15 minutes of her waking up (they’ll just need to check her vitals and stuff first). She also warned me that it’s not unusual for babies to be difficult to console because waking up from the anesthesia is disorienting, plus they’re upset over being separated from you.

So, I guess I’m most nervous about the anesthesia and having to watch them wheel her away. Thank God the procedure is only 20 minutes. For those of you parents who have gone through far, far worse with your kids in hospitals and having surgeries (and I know at least a couple), feel free to tell me to suck it up and quit being overindulgent.

I’m appreciative of any advice and prayers.

(P.S. In case you’re wondering, we should know in about a week if the procedure was successful. If not, then we’ll probably have to schedule the tube surgery at Children’s Hospital. I’m praying that this first procedure is successful!!)

!!! Spring Edition

I guess it’s officially spring, although we’re supposed to get a rain/snow storm this afternoon.

But that’s really beside the point, because more importantly it’s Friday, it’s FRIDAY! I’m so HAPPY that IT’S FRIDAY! The fact that it’s Friday, when I was SURE that Friday would never get here, is just proof that time, indeed, marches on. Speaking of march, GOODBYE MARCH, HELLO APRIL.

So in the spirit of time’s unceasing movement forward, here are a couple of my favorite !!! moments (intentional happiness) from the past two weeks.

What’s good for the goose …

Last week, Husband jokingly de-pantsed Monkey. He thought it was hysterical, naturally, and she chided him with “Daddy!”

I, however, did not find it funny. I gave Husband a very stern look and reprimanded him. “She’s going to do that at school in the fall,” I pointed out. “No way. DO NOT do that again.”

Several hours later, guess what happens. Husband is lying on the floor and Monkey comes up behind him and pulls his pants down. She laughs and thinks she’s hysterical. Husband exclaims, “Hey! No, Monkey don’t do that.”

Monkey ignores him and does it again, this time pulling his underwear down with his pants. Now he’s really embarrassed and Monkey’s still laughing.

I look at him with my best I told you so face and say, “See! You have to explain to her right now why that’s not okay and that you were wrong. Tell her that you need a time out.” Husband gets a gleeful expression on his face and says, “Whoopee! A 35-minute time out!?? Okay!”

Potty time

Monkey is only three weeks away from her third birthday, and she’s been potty trained for a year. But, she still wears a pull-up, or in our house, “nighttime underwear” for sleeping. Some mornings she wakes up and her pull-up is SOAKED, and other mornings it’s wet, but not drenched. She’s really been getting better about going potty on the toilet right away when she wakes up, as opposed to just peeing in the pull-up. We’ve also been emphasizing that she can get up and go to the bathroom anytime she needs to, whether it’s at night or for a nap and that she doesn’t have to call for us or wait for us. I even told her, “You know, Daddy and I do that all the time. We always wake up at night and go to the bathroom.” She seemed very surprised to hear this information.

Well it must have made an impression on her, because last night the unthinkable happened. Monkey actually got out of bed around 10 p.m., used the bathroom and then went back to bed!! Holy cow! I certainly was not expecting that to happen! Especially since most parents have told me that their kids were still in pull-ups at night until they were four. We’re not gonna be going pull-up free anytime soon, but I can’t believe she did that!

Hello (hello, hello, hello)

Carys learned what an echo was and spent the good part of an afternoon yelling hello in our front yard to hear her echo.

Bye-bye nappy

My poor little Beany. She’s just going through so much lately. She also seems to have officially dropped her morning nap, which I don’t think is helping. Even though she’s rubbing her eyes and acting tired, when I try to put her down in the morning she’s quiet in her crib for about 15 minutes, then she plays, and then she cries to get up.

I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, our whole morning just opened up. It’s SO nice to be able to do a morning activity, have lunch and a nap, and then do an afternoon activity. We have so much more flexibility now. On the other hand, it’s hard because I see that she’s tired and somewhat crabby and could benefit from the extra sleep. We’ll see how she adjusts over the next several weeks.

It’s all about me

The plus side of Bean’s major separation anxiety, teething and sickness issues is that I’m getting a lot of extra cuddle time with her. There’s no cry that apparently my arms can’t calm. When I pick her up, it stops immediately (or nearly). I think the instant ease that kids feel in their mothers’ arms is universal — they must feel so soothed, so protected, so safe! I wish I could remember the comforting feeling of my mom’s arms. We should develop a name for this instant ease — like Momease or Momcalm. What should we call it?

Vocab

I’m thinking Bean might be going through a brain growth spurt — which could be another contributing factor to her not sleeping well lately — because she’s mastered the word “Hi” and also is saying “Nana,” and attempting “buh bye” and “please.” I think her Nana is going to be pretty thrilled to come home and hear her say, “Hi Nana.”

Bed head

Finally, finally, finally Bean is growing some hair. Finally! Monkey didn’t have much hair either (she’s only had like three haircuts in her life), but even she had more hair at 14 months than Bean does. And Bean’s hair is just starting to get long enough that occasionally she’ll wake up with a small section of errant hairs that stick straight up. The first time it happened I thought it was so cute that I didn’t even try to smooth it down.

So what’s made you !!! lately?