Cabbage 2

I doubted, but once again, folk lore has served me well!

Behold! The boobs which have not fed and yet which do not feel like gala melons!

Hooray!

Yes, that's right. I managed to go the whole day without doing a booby feed and as a result I feel awesome. Well...

I would feel awesome, were it not for the fact that I'm also teaching Daughter to sleep in her own bed at nap time. I understand why it makes sense to do it now, but I'm also worried about missing out on her precious, tiny, cuddly phase where she can sprawl across me, chest to chest.

I know I'll probably be glad that I did this in a few years time when I can say to her, "It's bedtime, love, off you go," and not have a battle on my hands, but right now I feel a bit like I'm missing out. C'est la vie, eh? Can't have everything.

Cabbage

As I continue to cut down on breast feeds, I've found myself becoming increasingly uncomfortable. According to google, applying cabbage leaves to the boob is the answer so despite feeling like a total berk, I have resolved to give it a try.

Oh lord. Imagine what would happen if I got hit by a car.

The victim was a young woman with an obscene amount of keys and cabbage leaves stuffed down her bra. She may or may not have recently eaten her body weight in cheap knock-off Cadbury style buttons - Police have refused to comment.

In other news, Daughter seems to be getting the hang of this sleep thing (though now I've said that we'll be up all night!) so today I got to start reading The Other Hand by Chris Cleave and do some yoga to aid my hips, all while she was having a nap. I'm using the Yoga for Stress Relief DVD at the moment because it has a section specifically for sore hips, but I am also going to try Erin O'Brien's Complete Pregnancy Fitness when I'm feeling more energetic. I don't think I need the postnatal workout - and I know my husband won't participate - but I feel I should use the DVD since I bought it and barely touched it while I was carrying Daughter.

So yeah... more on how we progress tomorrow!

 

Amber

I was sceptical, but the amber necklace I bought from Dino-Daisy seems to be working. Daughter hasn't been nearly as croddly since she's been wearing it and those infectious little chuckles are becoming increasingly numerous as a result.

With teething 'on hold', as it were, for the moment, I'm trying to build on the success we had with the Johnson's Sleep Challenge by gently encouraging Daughter to go to sleep on her own. So now, she has a bath, we do the baby massage - which used to be the high point of the evening but is now a bone of contention as it means bath-time is finished - and then I take her to the bedroom for a bottle. I make sure she's awake when I put her down in the cot and keep a hand on her chest, breathing heavily so she can hear me as I do, until she stops grumping, then I say goodnight and sit down to read my book. If she grumps again, I go back and keep my hand on her chest until the grumping stops again but I try to avoid eye contact as I do so and I don't say anything so that she knows it isn't awake time any more.

I don't know if the heavy breathing helps, but I know that if I can't sleep, I tune into Husband's breathing and by concentrating on following that, I soon drop off. It seems to be the same for Daughter but I don't have any scientific or anecdotal proof to back my weird little theory up.

I'm going to have to take her to the health visitor in the next few weeks and I'm a bit nervous. Last time we went for a weigh in, Daughter had dropped a percentile curve and in the 6 weeks between visits, had only gained 600g. Since then, I've started giving her bottles, baby rice and mush, so I really don't know how her weight is going to be when I go back. She's only 18 weeks too, so I'm a little nervous about admitting that I've started with big foods already. Also, the health visitor is the one who encouraged me to keep feeding through my mastitis and was so pleased that I'd managed to keep it up for so long. I know it's her job to advocate breast-feeding, but she really seemed to care that Daughter got the best. And having worked in health-care, I know how hard it is to keep up the enthusiasm around preaching the right, but difficult option - I don't want to upset anyone.

I know I've done the best for Daughter and me by stopping - a rough night of relentless feeding yesterday proved it - but I still don't want other people who've been really supportive to feel that I've let them down. Especially when they clearly care...

Aside from anything else, it's pride that's stopping me from going. I like to learn things on my own - I didn't get on well at school because everything was spoon-fed to me and I found that boring - which, I guess, is another reason I don't like the childcare books. I'm learning though, to take help when it's available. My pride doesn't like it, but every other aspect of my life does!

Down

Anyone have any hints for putting a baby down in their cot?

Daughter will fall asleep in my arms within seconds, but actually laying her in her bed is a demanding task, not for the faint-hearted.Even the slightest degree of height difference is noted by her seemingly-sleepy brain and a few inches from the mattress, her arms splay out to the sides, jolting her awake with a cry.

I have been trying to put her down drowsy, but a lot of the time this results in her either snapping awake and wanting to play, or her snapping awake in fury - how dare I put her down? It's not an asking cry - it's an angry, shouting at naughty mummy sort of cry. It makes me laugh, but it's not really helpful in terms of getting her to sleep so I can get on with things.

So yes, any helpful suggestions would be greatly appreciated. :)

Day 7

And thus the 'Johnson's sleep challenge' is complete.

Last night was absolutely magic. No tears at bath time, no tears during the baby massage. Daughter fell asleep in my arms, went down for an  hour, then woke up. She calmed easily, then I put her down drowsy and left her to go off. I'll definitely be continuing this routine, challenge or no, as it really seems to work.

Sceptical as I was at first, I can definitely see why this series of actions has the desired effect. Everything about getting baby ready for bed is centred around love and intimacy, and as the night time is the longest that baby is away from you, I see it almost as a fuelling-up on attention and company until the following morning. Sure, the nice warm bath is great, as is the massage, but I think that ultimately, all Daughter wants before she goes off to sleep is to feel safe, secure and loved. I mean, don't we all? I certainly know that if I were so small and vulnerable that I'd want all the snuggles I could get.

I think people forget, as I've said before, that when they're dealing with babies they're actually dealing with tiny people. I have frequent arguments with folk about the 'cry it out' technique - also known as the Ferber Method. In my eyes, it's just barbaric. I explain my dislike of it by telling people to imagine that they're abroad with no money, no food, no passport and no tickets home. 'Crying it out' to me, is like being left unable to explain your predicament to anyone, yet instead of trying to help you, the locals just ignore you, and leave you to your own troubles.

It is such a comfort to have  found an alternative that so far, appears to work.

Day 6

Another rough night. Not for lack of trying though.

For over 4 hours, we battled to get Daughter to sleep in her own bed but every time I put her down, she started crying. Every time Dad put her down, we'd get a two minute respite before the tears began again. I would say that I persevered through it until the end, but there was no end - just an alarm clock at 7.30am.

In fairness, she did spend the time she was awake last night feeding, so perhaps a growth spurt is imminent. The lack of sleep, however, has really taken its toll on me and I am determined tonight that my little monster will kip in her own bed. I know she's not doing it to be naughty, and that it's possibly my fault for the debacle in the car when I was out with Granddad, but it's wearing all the same.

Day 5...

... failed to happen.

I went to see Granddad to take him out for lunch but all the pubs we came to were closed and then, when we were just over an hour from home, Daughter decided she wasn't playing any more.

It took us nearly two hours to get back, stopping every few miles to cuddle and comfort little girl. From dropping Granddad off, we then had to make the forty minute journey home. It took over an hour again.

By the time we got in,  Husband was home so with frayed nerves, I handed Daughter over, took a few deep breaths and vowed to try again today...

Day 4

Sceptical but silent, tonight's bath was rather more of a success than usual. The massage caused the standard howls, but new to this evening's line up was a spate of tears when Daughter was presented with her bottle.

I don't care though. Today, I got my first laugh and as a result, it has been the best day of my life so far. I've heard Daughter squeal with delight before, but this was a dopey 'huh huh huh' sort of a sound, made in the back of her throat. She has a lower voice than most babies I've heard. I'm hoping that this will lead to a lovely, silky tone when she's older but only time will tell.(I'm still giddy as I'm typing this - if it doesn't come across in my writing, you have to imagine the above gush blurted in an Alyson Hannigan-American Pie sort of way)

The glorious chuckle came as I was spinning her in circles, saying, 'weeee,' as we went. Rest assured that tomorrow, there'll be a whole lot of that going on.

Day 3

So the books might have been right about putting baby down whilst drowsy instead of asleep. After 7 hours of uninterrupted kip, I had to wake Daughter up because I thought my boobs were going to pop.

So, we try again tonight, and see if it was just a fluke.

It was fairly eye-opening, having to get Daughter to feed during the night. Up until now, I'd always thought of the relationship in terms of her being dependant on me, but that really isn't the case. I rely on her just as much.

Which is why the fact that I've started weaning her onto bottles in earnest now was a little hard to swallow at 2am. Don't get me wrong - I am having SO much fun with the baby rice, and I'm loving the intimacy that the bottle affords me - but from a purely physical perspective, we will never need each other again once this is over. Of course, emotionally it's very different, but it's still one tie I will never get back.

I'm not going to stop weaning her, but I will slow down. I aim to have her solely bottle feeding in time for our holiday in October. Until then, I will do what I can to enjoy the last vestiges of breast feeding.

Night 2

Night two of the 'sleep challenge' was a total disaster. Daughter howlded through the bath and the massage, then continued to howl for three whole hours afterwards. We had a really broken night in general though so perhaps she had tummy ache or something...

Tonight I decided to actually look at the advice given. I promised myself I'd not do this again, but even at 3 months, Daughter is getting too heavy to rock to sleep, and as I'm weaning her onto bottles, I don't want to nurse her into slumber. The advice to put the baby down drowsy seems to be the way to go... I read the chapter of Black Beauty in which Jerry takes a girl and her boy to the hospital for free in his cab, then laid Daughter carefully on her mattress. So far, five minutes on, she's still fast asleep. Normally she'd have been howling by now so we will have to wait and see how this progresses.

Now, to dinner.

Johnson's Baby sleep challenge.

When I feed Daughter, I tend to watch various TV shows over the Internet. In the ad breaks for these shows, I am often told to try the Johnson's Baby sleep challenge.

So, sleep deprived and desperate, I decided to look at the site. In honesty, it's a fairly poor design - things are hidden away that I'd like to be in clear view and the message seems to be the same as what Mum told me; bath, bottle, bed. The difference being that in order to sell more Johnson's sleep products, they've switched the bottle for a baby massage.

But what the hell, right? I figured I'd try it - sans expensive toiletries - and what do you know? It worked. I will keep it up for the suggested 7 days and see how we go.

Growing up

Milestones, they call them. Developmental milestones.

The system* would have you believe that they are to be reached at a specific time by children who are developing at the normal pace. I've come to think of the whole thing like the A1 north-bound - everyone is pushing on in the same direction, but in reality, we'll not all reach Newcastle at the same time.

Most of us are travelling by car on or around the speed limit - we're hitting Newark and our first words as and when we should. But as it's an A road and not a motorway, all kinds of other traffic is allowed to travel our path too. You get tractors - steady and strong - classic motor cars which perhaps don't have more than 4 gears but are intolerably beautiful, not to mention the occasional and eccentric horse and cart. They won't get there as quickly as the rest of us but as its the destination that matters and not the journey time, it isn't really an issue.

Except.

People get competitive. We seem to be conditioned to treat all of these milestones as markers in a race. Daughter didn't smile until she was 8 weeks - 2 weeks older than most babies. Friend's toddler didn't gain weight as fast as expected which caused health bods to worry and question his development.

Things seem to have to happen to kids so quickly - they have to sleep in their own bed from day one, be away from Mummy from the time she's ready to go back to work, and learn to smile, to talk, to crawl all according to some sort of magical calendar. When we panic if our children don't reach these milestones at the same time - if not faster - than they're supposed to, is it any wonder they're growing up too quickly? We're competitive, so we push our children forwards in an effort to say to the world, 'We are better. Our child is better.'

Just a thought...

*I'm not one of these 'fight the system' morons, I just don't know what else to call the... thing (well, system) that our growing kids are supposed to adhere to.

Battling Bottles

So, Daughter finally took a bottle.

It was a really strange experience - liberating in that she was no longer solely dependant on me, heart wrenching because she was no longer solely dependant on me, exciting because she was trying a new taste for the first time and, dare I say it? Intimate.

This is the most intimate feeding experience I've had with Daughter since she was born, and possibly the closest I've felt to her. Instead of just latching her onto a boob and then distracting myself with mindless TV, I actually took the time to look at her. We stared at one another throughout the feed, chatted a little bit and had a really snuggly time. This was the first case where I was sad when feeding was finished.

Thinking about it afterwards, I began to see why. Aside from the D-MER and the resentment that brings with it, the act of preparing the bottle had been one of love for me.

I'm a big girl - always have been and always will be - and food is one of my love things. By love things I mean, ways in which I show affection. I love to cook for people. And though it's rarely more adventurous than tossing a few chips in the fryer, or chopping a few veg up for Sunday Roast, I know that the fact I've made an effort preparing the food sets it apart from the frozen junk I am guilty of eating when it's just me in the house. The bottle was the first food I've prepared for Daughter and was the first time she felt like a big person in her own right, rather than a byproduct of pregnancy.

God, that sounds awful.

The thing is, people seem to forget that a baby is a tiny human being. When we were on holiday, I kept trying to pay childrens fare for her, but the staff kept saying, 'babies don't count'. Even my family, who we bummed the lift to France with - baby passports are a tale worth telling! - kept saying, 'There are five of us. Oh, and Daughter.' As if she wasn't to be included with the rest.

I don't know when other people are going to start seeing her as a human in her own right. When she can talk, maybe? Right now, there are just all kinds of methods and theories to be applied in regards to her feeding, sleeping, playing... why can't we just say, 'ok, this kid hates bottles and likes to sleep with Mum and Dad'? It doesn't make her naughty or unhealthy because she has a preference she's unable to articulate...