I am 42.9 percent of the way toward completing my 6-month pumping goal. Precise, yes, because I run this calculation nearly every day. One does what one must to keep going.
B is fond of presenting to me hypothetical situations that require a choice, and I am generally unable to choose. However, I presented such a situation to myself the other day and found that the choice was surprisingly easy.
Would I rather pump for 6 months or go through labor again?
I choose labor. If labor could somehow produce 6 months' worth of the best nutrition for little E, I'd take it in a heartbeat over pumping. (Assuming, of course, that I could get an epidural.)
But I don't really have that choice, so I continue to pump and to deal with the inconvenience, physical discomfort, and the feeling that my body is not really my own.
And I have to deal with the hunger. I thought that I was extra hungry during pregnancy, when you're supposed to eat 200-300 extra calories per day. Having to consume an extra 600 calories per day is unexpectedly difficult.
I'm hungry all the time. Only on several occasions in the last 11 weeks have I felt really, truly full. (Side note: Both times occurred after large meals of hot salted meat.) I have to eat several breakfasts and lunches each day, and I consume ice cream at night by the gallons. (Ok, usually by the pints--I am an ice cream snob.)
I eat as much as B does, sometimes more. He hasn't been able to finish one of my meals in ages. Sad for him, perhaps, though I think he doesn't mind the nightly ice cream.
My body's increased calorie burning did mean that I lost my 30 pounds of pregnancy weight very quickly. I'm back to my pre-pregnancy weight, though not my pre-pregnancy size. My waist and hips are both 2 inches bigger than they used to be. I suspect that this change is permanent. My pants still fit, thank goodness (you have no idea how difficult it is for me to find pants), but I have had to say good-bye to most of my fitted dresses.
As for my feet, I'm not sure if they've changed. I haven't got around to trying on all my shoes yet, but the shoes I wear all the time still fit. I bought my first pair of post-pregnancy shoes recently and had to go a size up (11 now--gah), but they run small, so it's tough to say whether my feet have really grown.
I had sort of been hoping that my feet would get bigger so I'd have an excuse to throw out all the uncomfortable shoes I have and start over. Perhaps the hidden animosity I have toward them is reason enough to get rid of them and start anew.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Useful baby books
I wanted to share the books that have helped guide us along the parenting path.
The Contented Little Baby Book
Does the idea of putting your baby on a schedule appeal to you? Do you like the idea of knowing that you'll have several predetermined chunks of time each day to yourself?
If so, consider checking out Gina Ford's book. She's a famous nanny in Britain, and lots of British (and now American) parents have adopted her ideas.
Most books say that you can't put a newborn on a schedule. However, we've had a lot of success. Sure, everything doesn't always go as planned, and sometimes he falls asleep earlier than he's supposed to or wakes up before he's supposed to, but we do our best to get back on track and usually can.
If the idea of a highly structured day is overwhelming to you or if you are committed to feeding your baby on demand, no matter the time of day, don't bother reading this book. But if you like the idea of only 5-7 feedings per day and of getting your baby to sleep through the night at a young age, check it out.
(For the record, Rooster is not yet sleeping through the night, but most nights, we get a 5-hour stretch, which is good for a 7-week-old.)
The Happiest Baby on the Block
This book frequently offers opposite advice from Gina's book. The author says that there's no way you can put a baby on a schedule until at least 8 weeks and that your job as a parent is to adapt your life to your baby and do what he wants.
The book focuses on getting your baby to stop crying, theorizing that a non-crying baby will sleep well. The author offers a few ideas that we know that Gina would pooh-pooh, but they work for us.
For instance, Gina says that the baby should sleep in his crib, as sleeping elsewhere will encourage him to develop bad sleeping habits that you will then have to correct down the road. However, she doesn't address what to do when your baby will sleep for only 30 minutes at a time in his crib. The Happiest Baby book tells you to let your baby sleep in his swing, all night if necessary, until 4 or 5 months or whenever he is ready to move back to his crib.
We put Rooster in his crib for each nap, and sometimes he sleeps there the entire time, but most of the time, he wakes up crying after only a half hour. At that point, we calm him down and put him in his swing, where he sleeps like a contented little baby for the rest of his nap (not always, but most of the time).
You do what you must to get sleep.
Another side note--at some point, you will have an inconsolable, screaming baby on your hands. And the tricks in the Happiest Baby book will get him to stop crying. Buy this book, learn about the 5 S's, and your baby will cry less.
What to Expect series
These books are great for the paranoid preggo and mom who wants to know every bad thing that could possibly happen and who wants to commit many hours to reading the books cover to cover, as the books are not designed to be scanned or used as reference material.
Are the books useful? Sometimes. Are they annoying? Definitely. You make the call about whether you can handle their overcautiousness.
The Baby Owner's Manual
If you have very little experience handling babies, consider buying this book. Most baby books provide theoretical information, but this book provides step-by-step instructions for all your baby-related tasks, from getting into breastfeeding positions to giving a sponge bath. Plus it's well-written, scannable, and fun.
Am I biased because I have written a few manuals myself (admittedly, not nearly as fun as this one)? Perhaps. But I suspect that this book is appealing to non-technical writers, too.
Baby 411
We bought this book on our Kindle, a decision that I regretted at first, as it's enormous and the Kindle does not allow for easy scanning. However, the Kindle has a Find feature, allowing us to search the book when we have questions about anything from cradle cap to thrush.
The book provides a lot of detail, perhaps too much. Reading it while I was pregnant gave me nightmares. Purchase if you want too much information about everything or if you want a comprehensive reference book.
Milk Memos
If you want to know how what it's like to return to work and still try to breastfeed your baby, consider buying this book. It will also provide encouragement if you are pumping.
The Contented Little Baby Book
Does the idea of putting your baby on a schedule appeal to you? Do you like the idea of knowing that you'll have several predetermined chunks of time each day to yourself?
If so, consider checking out Gina Ford's book. She's a famous nanny in Britain, and lots of British (and now American) parents have adopted her ideas.
Most books say that you can't put a newborn on a schedule. However, we've had a lot of success. Sure, everything doesn't always go as planned, and sometimes he falls asleep earlier than he's supposed to or wakes up before he's supposed to, but we do our best to get back on track and usually can.
If the idea of a highly structured day is overwhelming to you or if you are committed to feeding your baby on demand, no matter the time of day, don't bother reading this book. But if you like the idea of only 5-7 feedings per day and of getting your baby to sleep through the night at a young age, check it out.
(For the record, Rooster is not yet sleeping through the night, but most nights, we get a 5-hour stretch, which is good for a 7-week-old.)
The Happiest Baby on the Block
This book frequently offers opposite advice from Gina's book. The author says that there's no way you can put a baby on a schedule until at least 8 weeks and that your job as a parent is to adapt your life to your baby and do what he wants.
The book focuses on getting your baby to stop crying, theorizing that a non-crying baby will sleep well. The author offers a few ideas that we know that Gina would pooh-pooh, but they work for us.
For instance, Gina says that the baby should sleep in his crib, as sleeping elsewhere will encourage him to develop bad sleeping habits that you will then have to correct down the road. However, she doesn't address what to do when your baby will sleep for only 30 minutes at a time in his crib. The Happiest Baby book tells you to let your baby sleep in his swing, all night if necessary, until 4 or 5 months or whenever he is ready to move back to his crib.
We put Rooster in his crib for each nap, and sometimes he sleeps there the entire time, but most of the time, he wakes up crying after only a half hour. At that point, we calm him down and put him in his swing, where he sleeps like a contented little baby for the rest of his nap (not always, but most of the time).
You do what you must to get sleep.
Another side note--at some point, you will have an inconsolable, screaming baby on your hands. And the tricks in the Happiest Baby book will get him to stop crying. Buy this book, learn about the 5 S's, and your baby will cry less.
What to Expect series
These books are great for the paranoid preggo and mom who wants to know every bad thing that could possibly happen and who wants to commit many hours to reading the books cover to cover, as the books are not designed to be scanned or used as reference material.
Are the books useful? Sometimes. Are they annoying? Definitely. You make the call about whether you can handle their overcautiousness.
The Baby Owner's Manual
If you have very little experience handling babies, consider buying this book. Most baby books provide theoretical information, but this book provides step-by-step instructions for all your baby-related tasks, from getting into breastfeeding positions to giving a sponge bath. Plus it's well-written, scannable, and fun.
Am I biased because I have written a few manuals myself (admittedly, not nearly as fun as this one)? Perhaps. But I suspect that this book is appealing to non-technical writers, too.
Baby 411
We bought this book on our Kindle, a decision that I regretted at first, as it's enormous and the Kindle does not allow for easy scanning. However, the Kindle has a Find feature, allowing us to search the book when we have questions about anything from cradle cap to thrush.
The book provides a lot of detail, perhaps too much. Reading it while I was pregnant gave me nightmares. Purchase if you want too much information about everything or if you want a comprehensive reference book.
Milk Memos
If you want to know how what it's like to return to work and still try to breastfeed your baby, consider buying this book. It will also provide encouragement if you are pumping.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Great expectations
B is frequently frustrated by my inability to play "Let's Pretend." He enjoys throwing out hypothetical situations to find out what I'd do in them. Invariably, I respond to his questions with more questions, probing for details, and in the end, my answer is usually, "I don't know," or "That sounds unlikely to happen."
My brain just doesn't process hypotheticals.
It should come as no surprise, then, that I had no idea what to expect from my new role of "mother," so I didn't think I had many expectations before entering this new role. However, I apparently did have some expectations, perhaps unspoken even to myself, because I am constantly surprised by my new role.
Here are a few areas that have taken me by surprise in the last month or so.
Fun
The secret that no one tells you is that the first few weeks of parenthood aren't much fun. People hide this knowledge in statements such as, "It gets better," or "It gets easier." What they're really saying is, "There are limited opportunities for fun in the beginning."
Sure, there are elements of fun and wonderful, particularly when your baby is cute and provides you with adorable photographable moments of cuteness explosions. But a lot of the time, it's diaper blowouts at 3 in the morning and the need to change the bedding and the diaper and swaddle blanket of a screaming newborn.
That situation probably doesn't sound like fun--because it isn't!
Now when people tell me, "Oh, the early days are so much fun," my answer is, "Actually, they're not that much fun." And it's amazing how the conversation changes afterward! Invariably, the woman (because men do not feel the need to pretend that newborns are a barrel of laughs all the time) lowers her voice and admits that she herself did not enjoy the early days that much, and then she offers the age when the fun actually begins (usually somewhere in the 2 to 4 month range).
I am doing my best to maintain an even keel until the fun increases. It must get better, or people wouldn't have multiple children.
Baby blues
They warned us in childbirthing class about the baby blues, and naturally, I assumed that I would be immune to them.
This situation illustrates the danger of inflated self-confidence.
The baby blues usually start a couple days after the birth of your baby and are the result of your hormones going haywire. You can go from laughter to tears within minutes and have very little control over your emotions.
I first experienced the baby blues when I nearly started crying while we were leaving the hospital. Make no mistake--I couldn't wait to get home. But actually walking down the hallway with Rooster in his carrier, knowing that we'd soon be flying solo with him, left me overwhelmed.
Many situations left me overwhelmed those first couple weeks. I cried...a lot. A couple times, I felt like I couldn't stop crying, a scary situation because the baby blues can turn into postpartum depression.
Now, four weeks later, my baby blues are mostly gone. I still get overwhelmed taking care of a newborn by myself while B is at work, but I feel like I am much more in control of my emotions. I think that my baby blues were very closely tied with my physical recovery, another unexpected result of this thing they call childbirth...
Lengthy recovery time
I did not expect to be in so much pain following the birth. I thought that lengthy recovery times were for c-sections only. Wrong!
In the days following Rooster's birth, I could barely get out of bed. I watched the clock religiously and requested my Motrin every 6 hours. Two weeks later, I was still taking Motrin and walking like a bit of a gunslinger.
A month later, I still have not fully recovered. During pregnancy, I thought that classifying pregnancy leave as a short-term disability was a little odd, but now I understand because I genuinely do feel like I am physically disabled much of the time.
It seems awfully unfair to have to deal with the physical recovery from birth at the same time that you have to learn how to take care of a newborn, but that's the way it is. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have B. Single mothers, you amaze me.
Breastfeeding difficulties
Breastfeeding is natural and easy, right? You and the baby instinctively know what to do, and your baby gains weight and thrives with very little effort from you while you still manage to get lots of sleep.
That's how it's sold, anyway. The reality was quite the opposite.
My baby didn't know what to do, he only lost weight, and no one got any sleep.
I've already written about this subject, so I won't belabor the point, but anyone who says that breastfeeding is easy is either extremely lucky or is lying.
Exhaustion
I knew I'd be tired. I just didn't know what tired really felt like until now. I leave a room to grab something and forget what I needed. I start sentences and stop speaking in the middle because I've forgotten what I was going to say. I forget how much milk I put in Rooster's bottle. I find my eyelids getting awfully heavy while I'm rocking and feeding Rooster.
Sleep is at a wicked premium in our house these days (for everyone except Rooster, that is). Getting 6 hours of sleep--not consecutively, mind you, total--in a day is now a luxury.
We are lucky that he wakes up only twice each night and that he is rarely fussy during the night. (He saves that behavior for me during the day.)
Apparently, it will get easier.
My brain just doesn't process hypotheticals.
It should come as no surprise, then, that I had no idea what to expect from my new role of "mother," so I didn't think I had many expectations before entering this new role. However, I apparently did have some expectations, perhaps unspoken even to myself, because I am constantly surprised by my new role.
Here are a few areas that have taken me by surprise in the last month or so.
Fun
The secret that no one tells you is that the first few weeks of parenthood aren't much fun. People hide this knowledge in statements such as, "It gets better," or "It gets easier." What they're really saying is, "There are limited opportunities for fun in the beginning."
Sure, there are elements of fun and wonderful, particularly when your baby is cute and provides you with adorable photographable moments of cuteness explosions. But a lot of the time, it's diaper blowouts at 3 in the morning and the need to change the bedding and the diaper and swaddle blanket of a screaming newborn.
That situation probably doesn't sound like fun--because it isn't!
Now when people tell me, "Oh, the early days are so much fun," my answer is, "Actually, they're not that much fun." And it's amazing how the conversation changes afterward! Invariably, the woman (because men do not feel the need to pretend that newborns are a barrel of laughs all the time) lowers her voice and admits that she herself did not enjoy the early days that much, and then she offers the age when the fun actually begins (usually somewhere in the 2 to 4 month range).
I am doing my best to maintain an even keel until the fun increases. It must get better, or people wouldn't have multiple children.
Baby blues
They warned us in childbirthing class about the baby blues, and naturally, I assumed that I would be immune to them.
This situation illustrates the danger of inflated self-confidence.
The baby blues usually start a couple days after the birth of your baby and are the result of your hormones going haywire. You can go from laughter to tears within minutes and have very little control over your emotions.
I first experienced the baby blues when I nearly started crying while we were leaving the hospital. Make no mistake--I couldn't wait to get home. But actually walking down the hallway with Rooster in his carrier, knowing that we'd soon be flying solo with him, left me overwhelmed.
Many situations left me overwhelmed those first couple weeks. I cried...a lot. A couple times, I felt like I couldn't stop crying, a scary situation because the baby blues can turn into postpartum depression.
Now, four weeks later, my baby blues are mostly gone. I still get overwhelmed taking care of a newborn by myself while B is at work, but I feel like I am much more in control of my emotions. I think that my baby blues were very closely tied with my physical recovery, another unexpected result of this thing they call childbirth...
Lengthy recovery time
I did not expect to be in so much pain following the birth. I thought that lengthy recovery times were for c-sections only. Wrong!
In the days following Rooster's birth, I could barely get out of bed. I watched the clock religiously and requested my Motrin every 6 hours. Two weeks later, I was still taking Motrin and walking like a bit of a gunslinger.
A month later, I still have not fully recovered. During pregnancy, I thought that classifying pregnancy leave as a short-term disability was a little odd, but now I understand because I genuinely do feel like I am physically disabled much of the time.
It seems awfully unfair to have to deal with the physical recovery from birth at the same time that you have to learn how to take care of a newborn, but that's the way it is. I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have B. Single mothers, you amaze me.
Breastfeeding difficulties
Breastfeeding is natural and easy, right? You and the baby instinctively know what to do, and your baby gains weight and thrives with very little effort from you while you still manage to get lots of sleep.
That's how it's sold, anyway. The reality was quite the opposite.
My baby didn't know what to do, he only lost weight, and no one got any sleep.
I've already written about this subject, so I won't belabor the point, but anyone who says that breastfeeding is easy is either extremely lucky or is lying.
Exhaustion
I knew I'd be tired. I just didn't know what tired really felt like until now. I leave a room to grab something and forget what I needed. I start sentences and stop speaking in the middle because I've forgotten what I was going to say. I forget how much milk I put in Rooster's bottle. I find my eyelids getting awfully heavy while I'm rocking and feeding Rooster.
Sleep is at a wicked premium in our house these days (for everyone except Rooster, that is). Getting 6 hours of sleep--not consecutively, mind you, total--in a day is now a luxury.
We are lucky that he wakes up only twice each night and that he is rarely fussy during the night. (He saves that behavior for me during the day.)
Apparently, it will get easier.
Moo
We've had some challenges, our new family, during this "transition" period. One of the biggest challenges has been feeding our child.
I was committed to feeding breastmilk to Rooster, but he and I had some difficulties with breastfeeding. He had trouble latching, so I got a shield, which helped somewhat, but he still had a terrible latch that left me in pain. If I removed him, he wouldn't relatch, so I had two options--deal with the pain, or let him starve. I did my best to suck it up and deal with the pain.
At the hospital, we had several visits with lactation consultants. The visits were unpleasant at best, traumatic at worst, leaving Rooster screaming and no more able to eat than he had been before. Seeing my baby being manhandled in an attempt to get him to eat left me feeling resentful and angry towards these women and made me distrust lactation consultants.
I also felt like I was a challenge rather than a human being to them. "I'm going to get him to eat without the shield," one consultant declared on our last day at the hospital, grabbing hold of his neck and of me and leaving both of us in frustrated and in pain. (She did not succeed. I knew she wouldn't.)
It was the visiting nurse, who stopped by the day after we got home from the hospital, who put the final nail in the breastfeeding coffin. She brought her portable scale and weighed him, and he had lost weight since leaving the hospital.
"Feed him every two hours," she recommended.
Something you should know about this "every two hours" recommendation--it doesn't mean that you feed him, and then two hours from the end of the feeding, you start again. No, no, no. If you start feeding at 10 PM, your next feeding begins at midnight, even if your 10 PM feeding takes 45 minutes (or longer!).
Further complicating matters was that it took two of us to attempt to get both Rooster and me into the right position for a feeding, so B, Rooster, and I spent one horrible, sleepless night with lots of tears and screaming (mostly but not exclusively from Rooster). At the end of each feeding, Rooster and I were covered in breastmilk, but very little actually made it into his belly.
The next day, we started charging the breastpump. It took 24 hours to charge, so we all suffered another horrible, sleepless night during which I felt guilty for (gasp!) going 2 1/2 hours between feedings so that I could get maybe 30 minutes of sleep at a time.
Finally, the breast pump was charged. The first time I pumped was a glorious, wonderful experience. Rooster drank the contents of the bottle in about 5 minutes and was ready for more when he finished. For the first time in days, he looked like a content baby.
As for me, I felt free for the first time since his birth. "You mean," I asked rhetorically, "I can still feed him breastmilk, but don't have to breastfeed in public? Other people can feed him, too? I can leave the house and not worry about taking his food supply away? We'll know exactly how much he's eating? Sign me up!"
So for the last 3+ weeks, I have been pumping. In the online world, this setup is called "exclusively pumping," or EP, and seems to be most popular among women whose babies are born prematurely and can't breastfeed, and others like me, who attempted it but couldn't deal with the stress of the early days.
The situation is both the best and worst of the breastfeeding and bottle-feeding worlds. I already mentioned some of the benefits, but there are downsides, too, mostly logistical. Between bottles and breastpump parts, we have a ton of washing up to do, so we run the dishwasher multiple times per day. I have to find time to pump 6 or 7 times per day, and each pumping session lasts a long time, 20 minutes or more (the longest I've gone is 50). When I'm flying solo at home, I have to pump during his naps, but if he wakes up crying, I have to either quit or try to juggle a baby and a breastpump (an acquired skill...I am still acquiring it...).
And while I'm not exactly chained to Rooster, I am sort of chained to my breastpump, as I have to pump every few hours. During our road trip this past weekend, I pumped in a mall parking lot and in a parking lot just off the side of the road while B fed Rooster. I wouldn't call it a fun experience, and it's not one I'd like to have every day, but it's doable when you have to travel.
In hindsight, should I have persevered with breastfeeding? Maybe, maybe not. Even though it was overall dissatisfying and humbling, I appreciated the idea of it and even sometimes enjoyed it. But at this point, pumping is the path that I have chosen.
It's not an easy path, and I have on occasion thought wistfully of the free jar of formula we received at the hospital. My goal is to continue for six months, but six months is an awfully long time, so I approach the activity with a "one day at a time" motto. Every day I wake up and make the decision to pump that day. I'm glad that I've stuck with it, and I'm going to carry on for as long as I can.
I was committed to feeding breastmilk to Rooster, but he and I had some difficulties with breastfeeding. He had trouble latching, so I got a shield, which helped somewhat, but he still had a terrible latch that left me in pain. If I removed him, he wouldn't relatch, so I had two options--deal with the pain, or let him starve. I did my best to suck it up and deal with the pain.
At the hospital, we had several visits with lactation consultants. The visits were unpleasant at best, traumatic at worst, leaving Rooster screaming and no more able to eat than he had been before. Seeing my baby being manhandled in an attempt to get him to eat left me feeling resentful and angry towards these women and made me distrust lactation consultants.
I also felt like I was a challenge rather than a human being to them. "I'm going to get him to eat without the shield," one consultant declared on our last day at the hospital, grabbing hold of his neck and of me and leaving both of us in frustrated and in pain. (She did not succeed. I knew she wouldn't.)
It was the visiting nurse, who stopped by the day after we got home from the hospital, who put the final nail in the breastfeeding coffin. She brought her portable scale and weighed him, and he had lost weight since leaving the hospital.
"Feed him every two hours," she recommended.
Something you should know about this "every two hours" recommendation--it doesn't mean that you feed him, and then two hours from the end of the feeding, you start again. No, no, no. If you start feeding at 10 PM, your next feeding begins at midnight, even if your 10 PM feeding takes 45 minutes (or longer!).
Further complicating matters was that it took two of us to attempt to get both Rooster and me into the right position for a feeding, so B, Rooster, and I spent one horrible, sleepless night with lots of tears and screaming (mostly but not exclusively from Rooster). At the end of each feeding, Rooster and I were covered in breastmilk, but very little actually made it into his belly.
The next day, we started charging the breastpump. It took 24 hours to charge, so we all suffered another horrible, sleepless night during which I felt guilty for (gasp!) going 2 1/2 hours between feedings so that I could get maybe 30 minutes of sleep at a time.
Finally, the breast pump was charged. The first time I pumped was a glorious, wonderful experience. Rooster drank the contents of the bottle in about 5 minutes and was ready for more when he finished. For the first time in days, he looked like a content baby.
As for me, I felt free for the first time since his birth. "You mean," I asked rhetorically, "I can still feed him breastmilk, but don't have to breastfeed in public? Other people can feed him, too? I can leave the house and not worry about taking his food supply away? We'll know exactly how much he's eating? Sign me up!"
So for the last 3+ weeks, I have been pumping. In the online world, this setup is called "exclusively pumping," or EP, and seems to be most popular among women whose babies are born prematurely and can't breastfeed, and others like me, who attempted it but couldn't deal with the stress of the early days.
The situation is both the best and worst of the breastfeeding and bottle-feeding worlds. I already mentioned some of the benefits, but there are downsides, too, mostly logistical. Between bottles and breastpump parts, we have a ton of washing up to do, so we run the dishwasher multiple times per day. I have to find time to pump 6 or 7 times per day, and each pumping session lasts a long time, 20 minutes or more (the longest I've gone is 50). When I'm flying solo at home, I have to pump during his naps, but if he wakes up crying, I have to either quit or try to juggle a baby and a breastpump (an acquired skill...I am still acquiring it...).
And while I'm not exactly chained to Rooster, I am sort of chained to my breastpump, as I have to pump every few hours. During our road trip this past weekend, I pumped in a mall parking lot and in a parking lot just off the side of the road while B fed Rooster. I wouldn't call it a fun experience, and it's not one I'd like to have every day, but it's doable when you have to travel.
In hindsight, should I have persevered with breastfeeding? Maybe, maybe not. Even though it was overall dissatisfying and humbling, I appreciated the idea of it and even sometimes enjoyed it. But at this point, pumping is the path that I have chosen.
It's not an easy path, and I have on occasion thought wistfully of the free jar of formula we received at the hospital. My goal is to continue for six months, but six months is an awfully long time, so I approach the activity with a "one day at a time" motto. Every day I wake up and make the decision to pump that day. I'm glad that I've stuck with it, and I'm going to carry on for as long as I can.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Plugged in
"There's a look in your eyes that I've never seen before," B told me. "It looks like you've been plugged in."
Oh, labor. You have the oddest effects on us ladies.
I awoke a little after midnight on Friday, May 6, feeling some discomfort in my belly and lower back. "This could be it," I thought, and knowing that I likely had a long road ahead of me, I attempted to fall back asleep. Alas, sleep wouldn't come. I stayed in bed for another 45 minutes or so, trying not to time the contractions but realizing that they were closer together than I expected, 5 minutes apart or so. From what I learned at our childbirthing class, most first labors start with contractions that are spaced out further, 15 minutes or so.
I decided to get up around 1 AM. If this really was labor, I wanted to be prepared for it. If not, well, a shower and blown-out hairstyle never hurt anyone, even when they are undertaken in the middle of the night.
I hopped in the shower, hoping that the hot water would alleviate some of the pain. Nope! Nevertheless, I washed my hair and tried to linger in the hopes of distracting myself from the discomfort.
And then I blew out my hair and put on makeup. Appearances matter, even when one is about to have a child.
Ten days have passed, and it's already difficult to remember exactly what the pain felt like. I guess it's true that you really do forget. The pain in my stomach was sort of like severe diarrhea cramps, and the pain in my lower back was right around my tailbone. I'd say I felt the pain was evenly split between belly and back.
When a contraction started, I'd make my way to the foot of the stairs and crouch down on all fours, a position I learned in childbirthing class. It helps when you have back labor (labor pains in your back--it can be from a backwards baby or a confused brain sending the wrong signals).
When the contractions started getting more intense, around 2:30 AM, I went into our bedroom and told B, "You need to get up." I thought that maybe the sound of my shower would have woken him, but he was sound asleep. He asked if he had time to shower, and I said, yes, absolutely. First-time labors are always lengthy, and I planned to stay at home for as long as I could.
He showered while I continued walking around, sitting on my balance ball, kneeling in front of the couch, lying on my side, attempting any position to help with the pain. I also used the breathing technique I learned in childbirthing class--deep breath in through your nose and then deep breath out through your mouth. I know I mocked the breathing technique a little bit, but it really did help and was a helpful distraction.
B warmed up the heat wrap for me and helped apply it to my back during each contraction, and it helped a bit. He also rubbed my lower back during the contractions, another helpful tool (or at the very least, another distraction).
By the time B finished eating breakfast and drinking his coffee, contractions were still somewhat irregular but were mostly less than 3 minutes apart. The pain was getting intense, so we decided to call the doctor.
We left a message with the answering service and received a call back almost immediately from the doctor on call at the hospital. He said that it sounded like I was in active labor and asked what my strategy for pain management was. I told him that I wanted to let labor progress as far as it could and that I wanted to wait as long as I could, and then I'd get an epidural. He said that I could hang out at home for another hour or two and come to the hospital when I needed help with the pain. It sounded like a plan to me.
We stayed home for another hour or so, but then by 4:30, I decided it was time to head to the hospital. B packed up the car with our bags, the car seat, and the balance ball, and we were off.
I didn't realize how bumpy the road to the hospital was until I had to ride on it while in labor! Being confined in my seat during each contraction and not being able to move around was difficult, but I did my best to breath through each one and remind myself that we'd be there soon.
We arrived at the hospital, parked in the garage (Second floor! Stairs!), and entered through the ER. They directed us to an elevator; we took a wrong turn (neither of us was thinking straight), but luckily a nurse pointed us in the right direction before we went too far. Walking during a contraction was nearly impossible.
As we pulled into the garage, we saw another couple--the woman obviously in labor, too--enter the hospital just in front of us. She clearly had had a more difficult start to labor than I had. My doctor told me that I couldn't go to the hospital until I had tears running down my face from the pain, and I never reached that stage, but this poor girl did.
We saw them waiting outside the check-in room when we arrived. We checked in and were told to wait outside. I walked around between contractions--walking helps keep things moving--and knelt in front of a chair during each contraction. After a few minutes, a nurse came out and called my name. However, no one had come for the other woman, who was clearly in worse shape than I, so I told the kind-looking nurse to take the other woman instead, and that I could wait for the next available person.
My nurse came out a few minutes later. She seemed a bit less kind. Oh, well--she was one of 3 nurses that we had, due to shift changes, so she didn't stick around for long.
She seemed doubtful that I was actually in labor. She wanted to know how far dilated I was at my last appointment and seemed to think that I couldn't be in labor. She reluctantly took me into a large triage room with individual cubbies that had curtains for privacy. She gave me a gown and belly band to change into, and then I returned to the little cubby.
Moving around in the cubby was nearly impossible--not enough space, and who wants to walk with a johnnie hanging open behind them, anyway--but the excitement of being in the hospital helped distract me from my contractions. The belly band held monitors that checked my and the baby's heartbeat, and one of them had an unpleasant nub that dug into my stomach, so I had to keep readjusting it, and then it would stop picking up a heartbeat, and it had to be adjusted again, prolonging the monitoring phase.
After a little bit, a resident arrived to examine me. Everyone took my situation much more seriously when her exam revealed that I was 5 cm (10 cm means you're ready to push) dilated.
"You're going to have a baby today!" she said.
"When do I get a room?" I demanded.
"In the next hour or so," she said. But just a few minutes later, my nurse returned and took me to my room, where I had a little more privacy. (And when I say privacy, I mean privacy from other patients, not from hospital staff, as I can confirm that there is no privacy when one is birthing a baby.)
I had tested positive for some bacteria or other that 40% of people happen to be carrying around at any given time, so as soon as I got to my room, I had to get an IV with penicillin, further hampering my movements. Kneeling on a cold floor in a johnnie during contractions while trying not to impede my IV and monitoring wires was expectedly unpleasant. My mind started thinking thoughts of epidurals, but I tried to hold off as long as I could.
The nurse offered a drug that doesn't help with the pain but makes you feel a little drunk, but I passed, as I wanted to keep my wits about me. I was holding out for the real pain relief.
Eventually, the pain was too intense, and I was unable to breathe through it anymore. "Perhaps now would be a good time for an epidural," I said. The doctor's exam revealed that I was 6 cm dilated, a perfectly acceptable time for receiving pain relief. The anesthesiologist arrived quickly, and the insertion process took probably 15 minutes, and then I had to wait another 15 minutes or so for the pain relief to kick in. I think he was finished by 7:30 AM.
The anesthesiologist kept warning me about feeling bee stings and pressure, but I barely felt anything at all during the epidural insertion. I guess my mind had bigger pain to think about. An epidural consists of a catheter in your back that somehow makes all the pain go away. There is a button that can be pressed if you need more pain relief. (It came in handy later on.) The worst part of the epidural was its removal, as the anesthesiologist had put a huge piece of what felt like tape on my back and it had to be taken off. But that didn't happen for several more hours.
After the epidural kicked in, I had to lie on my side. My legs felt numb, sort of like the pins and needles feeling but without any pain, just delightful numbness. I could still feel each contraction, but it wasn't nearly as painful. The epidural did leave me shaky, a normal side effect that I was able to tolerate very easily.
I sent B off to get some food and tried to sleep. Sleep didn't happen, but resting with my eyes closed and not feeling any pain was lovely. Around 9:00, another exam revealed that I was at 9 cm. "Already?" I thought. I was not mentally prepared to push. At 9:45, another doctor came in, did an exam, and said that I was fully dilated and ready to go. She took what looked like a crochet needle and broke my water (painless), which ran clear (a good sign--big smiles from all the hospital staff), and then left me with the nurse.
The nurse asked if I felt like I had to push yet. I said I didn't know what that meant. She said it feels like you have to use the bathroom. I said, no, not yet, so we waited for another 10 minutes, and then I decided it was time to get the party started, so I started pushing a little after 10 AM.
The first 45 minutes or so of pushing was a bit anticlimactic. My contractions were spaced out pretty far apart, and it is possible that I was not giving the activity my full effort. I sort of wanted to see whether my full effort was really required.
As it turns out, it was. Eventually the doctor showed up, around the same time that the contractions were getting really intense, as painful as they were before the epidural. This part of the experience is a bit fuzzy. I kept looking at the clock and seeing time pass, all while feeling this enormous, crushing pressure in my abdomen. My third nurse, about as nice as the first, didn't want to give me another shot of the epidural because I was so close, but as things progressed and I was clearly struggling, the doctor told her to give it to me. I'm not sure if it kicked in, but it gave me the mental fortitude to keep going.
Around 11:30, I asked the doctor how much longer this was going to be, as I was not having fun and really wanted to get the whole ordeal over with. She said that if I pushed really hard, I could be finished in 30 minutes.
I took that as a challenge. She ordered some pitocin to make my contractions come more often, and I kicked my pushing effort into a higher gear. Within 15 minutes, our little Rooster entered the world, and the most severe pain was over.
Everything that happened next is fuzzy. I saw Rooster come out, and he was kind of slimy looking and gray (so not the romantic view of things, but it's true). The hospital staff got him crying (crying in a newborn is a good sign) and he got some color to him. I remember holding him for a little bit, and then the staff took him away for various tests and other activities while the doctors turned their attention to me.
There were a lot of stitches and a clot that had to be dealt with. I won't provide any more details, but moving around was very difficult for several days, and today is the first day that I have not had to take Motrin. It was one of many unexpected results of this whole baby thing.
Because of my late epidural shot, I had the shakies and had to stay in bed for another hour and a half or so until its effects wore off. B ordered lunch for us--I expected that I'd be ravenous afterwards, but I was somewhat unenthusiastic about food still--and then the nurse took me to the bathroom for a tutorial on how to use the bathroom for the next couple weeks. Again, I will not share details, but I will say that I was not mentally prepared for the physical damage of pushing a baby out.
Next I got into a wheelchair, and we rolled to the room where we'd be sleeping for the next two nights. It was much more spacious than some of the others (I think my post-delivery complications helped score us a bigger room, one positive result...). It had a private bathroom that was very poorly planned (no shelving!) and a few chairs and tables, including one horrible chair that converted into a "bed" for B. He was in pain for days afterward...
There is obviously much more to tell, but it has taken me 3 days to complete this posting, so I am just going to post it and continue on with my story when I have some free time.
Oh, labor. You have the oddest effects on us ladies.
I awoke a little after midnight on Friday, May 6, feeling some discomfort in my belly and lower back. "This could be it," I thought, and knowing that I likely had a long road ahead of me, I attempted to fall back asleep. Alas, sleep wouldn't come. I stayed in bed for another 45 minutes or so, trying not to time the contractions but realizing that they were closer together than I expected, 5 minutes apart or so. From what I learned at our childbirthing class, most first labors start with contractions that are spaced out further, 15 minutes or so.
I decided to get up around 1 AM. If this really was labor, I wanted to be prepared for it. If not, well, a shower and blown-out hairstyle never hurt anyone, even when they are undertaken in the middle of the night.
I hopped in the shower, hoping that the hot water would alleviate some of the pain. Nope! Nevertheless, I washed my hair and tried to linger in the hopes of distracting myself from the discomfort.
And then I blew out my hair and put on makeup. Appearances matter, even when one is about to have a child.
Ten days have passed, and it's already difficult to remember exactly what the pain felt like. I guess it's true that you really do forget. The pain in my stomach was sort of like severe diarrhea cramps, and the pain in my lower back was right around my tailbone. I'd say I felt the pain was evenly split between belly and back.
When a contraction started, I'd make my way to the foot of the stairs and crouch down on all fours, a position I learned in childbirthing class. It helps when you have back labor (labor pains in your back--it can be from a backwards baby or a confused brain sending the wrong signals).
When the contractions started getting more intense, around 2:30 AM, I went into our bedroom and told B, "You need to get up." I thought that maybe the sound of my shower would have woken him, but he was sound asleep. He asked if he had time to shower, and I said, yes, absolutely. First-time labors are always lengthy, and I planned to stay at home for as long as I could.
He showered while I continued walking around, sitting on my balance ball, kneeling in front of the couch, lying on my side, attempting any position to help with the pain. I also used the breathing technique I learned in childbirthing class--deep breath in through your nose and then deep breath out through your mouth. I know I mocked the breathing technique a little bit, but it really did help and was a helpful distraction.
B warmed up the heat wrap for me and helped apply it to my back during each contraction, and it helped a bit. He also rubbed my lower back during the contractions, another helpful tool (or at the very least, another distraction).
By the time B finished eating breakfast and drinking his coffee, contractions were still somewhat irregular but were mostly less than 3 minutes apart. The pain was getting intense, so we decided to call the doctor.
We left a message with the answering service and received a call back almost immediately from the doctor on call at the hospital. He said that it sounded like I was in active labor and asked what my strategy for pain management was. I told him that I wanted to let labor progress as far as it could and that I wanted to wait as long as I could, and then I'd get an epidural. He said that I could hang out at home for another hour or two and come to the hospital when I needed help with the pain. It sounded like a plan to me.
We stayed home for another hour or so, but then by 4:30, I decided it was time to head to the hospital. B packed up the car with our bags, the car seat, and the balance ball, and we were off.
I didn't realize how bumpy the road to the hospital was until I had to ride on it while in labor! Being confined in my seat during each contraction and not being able to move around was difficult, but I did my best to breath through each one and remind myself that we'd be there soon.
We arrived at the hospital, parked in the garage (Second floor! Stairs!), and entered through the ER. They directed us to an elevator; we took a wrong turn (neither of us was thinking straight), but luckily a nurse pointed us in the right direction before we went too far. Walking during a contraction was nearly impossible.
As we pulled into the garage, we saw another couple--the woman obviously in labor, too--enter the hospital just in front of us. She clearly had had a more difficult start to labor than I had. My doctor told me that I couldn't go to the hospital until I had tears running down my face from the pain, and I never reached that stage, but this poor girl did.
We saw them waiting outside the check-in room when we arrived. We checked in and were told to wait outside. I walked around between contractions--walking helps keep things moving--and knelt in front of a chair during each contraction. After a few minutes, a nurse came out and called my name. However, no one had come for the other woman, who was clearly in worse shape than I, so I told the kind-looking nurse to take the other woman instead, and that I could wait for the next available person.
My nurse came out a few minutes later. She seemed a bit less kind. Oh, well--she was one of 3 nurses that we had, due to shift changes, so she didn't stick around for long.
She seemed doubtful that I was actually in labor. She wanted to know how far dilated I was at my last appointment and seemed to think that I couldn't be in labor. She reluctantly took me into a large triage room with individual cubbies that had curtains for privacy. She gave me a gown and belly band to change into, and then I returned to the little cubby.
Moving around in the cubby was nearly impossible--not enough space, and who wants to walk with a johnnie hanging open behind them, anyway--but the excitement of being in the hospital helped distract me from my contractions. The belly band held monitors that checked my and the baby's heartbeat, and one of them had an unpleasant nub that dug into my stomach, so I had to keep readjusting it, and then it would stop picking up a heartbeat, and it had to be adjusted again, prolonging the monitoring phase.
After a little bit, a resident arrived to examine me. Everyone took my situation much more seriously when her exam revealed that I was 5 cm (10 cm means you're ready to push) dilated.
"You're going to have a baby today!" she said.
"When do I get a room?" I demanded.
"In the next hour or so," she said. But just a few minutes later, my nurse returned and took me to my room, where I had a little more privacy. (And when I say privacy, I mean privacy from other patients, not from hospital staff, as I can confirm that there is no privacy when one is birthing a baby.)
I had tested positive for some bacteria or other that 40% of people happen to be carrying around at any given time, so as soon as I got to my room, I had to get an IV with penicillin, further hampering my movements. Kneeling on a cold floor in a johnnie during contractions while trying not to impede my IV and monitoring wires was expectedly unpleasant. My mind started thinking thoughts of epidurals, but I tried to hold off as long as I could.
The nurse offered a drug that doesn't help with the pain but makes you feel a little drunk, but I passed, as I wanted to keep my wits about me. I was holding out for the real pain relief.
Eventually, the pain was too intense, and I was unable to breathe through it anymore. "Perhaps now would be a good time for an epidural," I said. The doctor's exam revealed that I was 6 cm dilated, a perfectly acceptable time for receiving pain relief. The anesthesiologist arrived quickly, and the insertion process took probably 15 minutes, and then I had to wait another 15 minutes or so for the pain relief to kick in. I think he was finished by 7:30 AM.
The anesthesiologist kept warning me about feeling bee stings and pressure, but I barely felt anything at all during the epidural insertion. I guess my mind had bigger pain to think about. An epidural consists of a catheter in your back that somehow makes all the pain go away. There is a button that can be pressed if you need more pain relief. (It came in handy later on.) The worst part of the epidural was its removal, as the anesthesiologist had put a huge piece of what felt like tape on my back and it had to be taken off. But that didn't happen for several more hours.
After the epidural kicked in, I had to lie on my side. My legs felt numb, sort of like the pins and needles feeling but without any pain, just delightful numbness. I could still feel each contraction, but it wasn't nearly as painful. The epidural did leave me shaky, a normal side effect that I was able to tolerate very easily.
I sent B off to get some food and tried to sleep. Sleep didn't happen, but resting with my eyes closed and not feeling any pain was lovely. Around 9:00, another exam revealed that I was at 9 cm. "Already?" I thought. I was not mentally prepared to push. At 9:45, another doctor came in, did an exam, and said that I was fully dilated and ready to go. She took what looked like a crochet needle and broke my water (painless), which ran clear (a good sign--big smiles from all the hospital staff), and then left me with the nurse.
The nurse asked if I felt like I had to push yet. I said I didn't know what that meant. She said it feels like you have to use the bathroom. I said, no, not yet, so we waited for another 10 minutes, and then I decided it was time to get the party started, so I started pushing a little after 10 AM.
The first 45 minutes or so of pushing was a bit anticlimactic. My contractions were spaced out pretty far apart, and it is possible that I was not giving the activity my full effort. I sort of wanted to see whether my full effort was really required.
As it turns out, it was. Eventually the doctor showed up, around the same time that the contractions were getting really intense, as painful as they were before the epidural. This part of the experience is a bit fuzzy. I kept looking at the clock and seeing time pass, all while feeling this enormous, crushing pressure in my abdomen. My third nurse, about as nice as the first, didn't want to give me another shot of the epidural because I was so close, but as things progressed and I was clearly struggling, the doctor told her to give it to me. I'm not sure if it kicked in, but it gave me the mental fortitude to keep going.
Around 11:30, I asked the doctor how much longer this was going to be, as I was not having fun and really wanted to get the whole ordeal over with. She said that if I pushed really hard, I could be finished in 30 minutes.
I took that as a challenge. She ordered some pitocin to make my contractions come more often, and I kicked my pushing effort into a higher gear. Within 15 minutes, our little Rooster entered the world, and the most severe pain was over.
Everything that happened next is fuzzy. I saw Rooster come out, and he was kind of slimy looking and gray (so not the romantic view of things, but it's true). The hospital staff got him crying (crying in a newborn is a good sign) and he got some color to him. I remember holding him for a little bit, and then the staff took him away for various tests and other activities while the doctors turned their attention to me.
There were a lot of stitches and a clot that had to be dealt with. I won't provide any more details, but moving around was very difficult for several days, and today is the first day that I have not had to take Motrin. It was one of many unexpected results of this whole baby thing.
Because of my late epidural shot, I had the shakies and had to stay in bed for another hour and a half or so until its effects wore off. B ordered lunch for us--I expected that I'd be ravenous afterwards, but I was somewhat unenthusiastic about food still--and then the nurse took me to the bathroom for a tutorial on how to use the bathroom for the next couple weeks. Again, I will not share details, but I will say that I was not mentally prepared for the physical damage of pushing a baby out.
Next I got into a wheelchair, and we rolled to the room where we'd be sleeping for the next two nights. It was much more spacious than some of the others (I think my post-delivery complications helped score us a bigger room, one positive result...). It had a private bathroom that was very poorly planned (no shelving!) and a few chairs and tables, including one horrible chair that converted into a "bed" for B. He was in pain for days afterward...
There is obviously much more to tell, but it has taken me 3 days to complete this posting, so I am just going to post it and continue on with my story when I have some free time.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Upping the efficiency ante
In the last couple months, we've made a few purchases that have significantly improved our lives.
Roomba vacuum
Neither of us likes to vacuum, but with a little one on the way, we need to have clean floors all the time. I considered my options and came up with a few ideas:
1. Vacuum more.
2. Hire a cleaning service.
3. Buy a Roomba.
I was able to dismiss Option 1 immediately.
Option 2 would provide many benefits other than clean carpets, but now is not the time to take on another considerable monthly expense.
Option 3 costs about the same as a month's worth of house cleaning--not cheap--but a Roomba comes with a yearlong warranty, so we can assume that we can enjoy the benefits of the Roomba for at least a year. Plus one of the benefits of a cleaning service is that it inspires you to neaten up for them, and a Roomba offers the same motivation because you don't want to run a vacuum when your shoes are littering the floor.
Our Roomba arrived a few weeks ago and seemed pretty easy to set up. (B did it.) The biggest hassle is the need to clean it out after every vac. As B pointed out, you don't necessarily save time over traditional vacuuming, since the cleaning-out process can be time consuming, but the Roomba is appealing to people who would rather clean out smaller parts than push a vac around.
B uses one of those air cans to help clean the little guy out, and so far, Roomby is working like a champ. We ran it for the first time when we were home so we could figure out where he'd get stuck. It's a little noisy, no worse than a regular vacuum, but its cleaning cycle is about 30 minutes, a long time to listen to a vacuum, so now we run it as we walk out the door.
The Roomba is lightweight, so you can easily move it from floor to floor, set it off, and come back to nicely vacuumed carpets. It even leaves vacuum marks in the carpet.
The Roomba probably can't replace our regular vacuum, and I wouldn't recommend it for houses with pets unless you were willing to run it and clean it out every day, but we're very happy with the purchase and our always-clean carpets.
New toaster
We didn't have a toaster in my city apartment; there was no room in my bathtub-sized kitchen. After we bought our condo about 5 years ago, we ventured to Target in search of a toaster oven. There were shelves upon shelves of them, and I declared that I was willing to invest in the cheapest toaster oven they had and would consider upgrading to a better model later. Mr. Cheapy came home with us.
He rattled and ticked and wasn't very good at toasting or reheating, but he was easier and faster than the oven, so we stuck with him. He repaid our commitment to him by continuing to work despite the occasional conflagrations that resulted from heating pizza slices directly on the rack.
However, life is too short to have to keep an eye on your bagel to make sure that it does not become burned. I decided I was ready for a grownup toaster oven.
My cousin raved about her Breville Smart Oven, and Cook's Illustrated concurred, giving it their top rating among toaster ovens. I was sold. B, who is not a fan of depriving himself, either, agreed that we deserved a better toaster and ordered it.
We love it. It is surprisingly easy to use, considering its complex settings. The crumb tray is a breeze to empty. And our bagels are toasted the way that we want them to be, no supervision required.
One minor issue is the oven's size and weight. This appliance is made to live on a counter top, whereas our old toaster lived in the pantry and came out only when we needed it. However, the size is also a plus. It's an extension of your oven and can fit surprisingly large pans inside. And it preheats in just a couple minutes, saving time and energy when compared to your oven.
The other major downside is the price tag. The Smart Oven is not a cheap investment. Sure, you're saving some electricity from not using your oven, but are you saving that much electricity? Probably not. However, if you can justify the cost to yourself (or if you don't even feel the need to justify the expense), I recommend considering this oven for your kitchen.
Clothes lines
Great convenience can sometimes come at a low cost. Don't you love staying at a hotel and finding the convenient clothes line in the shower?
I do. I have a wooden drying rack from my college years, but the glue has worn out in several places, and it can't stand upright on its own anymore. With all the baby laundry we have ahead of us--including our crib linens that can't go in the dryer (argh), we needed a better drying solution.
B suggested the clothes lines that hotels feature, and I loved the idea. Hotel living at home? Sign me up!
We bought 2 retractable clothes lines, and B installed them in my shower in a snap. I washed a couple of bassinet sheets last week and was very pleased not to have to drag out that horrible drying rack.
There is one minor issue with installing the lines in the shower, though--you have to remember that you have items hanging in there before turning the shower on. Going forward, perhaps I ought to leave the curtain open when items are drying...
Roomba vacuum
Neither of us likes to vacuum, but with a little one on the way, we need to have clean floors all the time. I considered my options and came up with a few ideas:
1. Vacuum more.
2. Hire a cleaning service.
3. Buy a Roomba.
I was able to dismiss Option 1 immediately.
Option 2 would provide many benefits other than clean carpets, but now is not the time to take on another considerable monthly expense.
Option 3 costs about the same as a month's worth of house cleaning--not cheap--but a Roomba comes with a yearlong warranty, so we can assume that we can enjoy the benefits of the Roomba for at least a year. Plus one of the benefits of a cleaning service is that it inspires you to neaten up for them, and a Roomba offers the same motivation because you don't want to run a vacuum when your shoes are littering the floor.
Our Roomba arrived a few weeks ago and seemed pretty easy to set up. (B did it.) The biggest hassle is the need to clean it out after every vac. As B pointed out, you don't necessarily save time over traditional vacuuming, since the cleaning-out process can be time consuming, but the Roomba is appealing to people who would rather clean out smaller parts than push a vac around.
B uses one of those air cans to help clean the little guy out, and so far, Roomby is working like a champ. We ran it for the first time when we were home so we could figure out where he'd get stuck. It's a little noisy, no worse than a regular vacuum, but its cleaning cycle is about 30 minutes, a long time to listen to a vacuum, so now we run it as we walk out the door.
The Roomba is lightweight, so you can easily move it from floor to floor, set it off, and come back to nicely vacuumed carpets. It even leaves vacuum marks in the carpet.
The Roomba probably can't replace our regular vacuum, and I wouldn't recommend it for houses with pets unless you were willing to run it and clean it out every day, but we're very happy with the purchase and our always-clean carpets.
New toaster
We didn't have a toaster in my city apartment; there was no room in my bathtub-sized kitchen. After we bought our condo about 5 years ago, we ventured to Target in search of a toaster oven. There were shelves upon shelves of them, and I declared that I was willing to invest in the cheapest toaster oven they had and would consider upgrading to a better model later. Mr. Cheapy came home with us.
He rattled and ticked and wasn't very good at toasting or reheating, but he was easier and faster than the oven, so we stuck with him. He repaid our commitment to him by continuing to work despite the occasional conflagrations that resulted from heating pizza slices directly on the rack.
However, life is too short to have to keep an eye on your bagel to make sure that it does not become burned. I decided I was ready for a grownup toaster oven.
My cousin raved about her Breville Smart Oven, and Cook's Illustrated concurred, giving it their top rating among toaster ovens. I was sold. B, who is not a fan of depriving himself, either, agreed that we deserved a better toaster and ordered it.
We love it. It is surprisingly easy to use, considering its complex settings. The crumb tray is a breeze to empty. And our bagels are toasted the way that we want them to be, no supervision required.
One minor issue is the oven's size and weight. This appliance is made to live on a counter top, whereas our old toaster lived in the pantry and came out only when we needed it. However, the size is also a plus. It's an extension of your oven and can fit surprisingly large pans inside. And it preheats in just a couple minutes, saving time and energy when compared to your oven.
The other major downside is the price tag. The Smart Oven is not a cheap investment. Sure, you're saving some electricity from not using your oven, but are you saving that much electricity? Probably not. However, if you can justify the cost to yourself (or if you don't even feel the need to justify the expense), I recommend considering this oven for your kitchen.
Clothes lines
Great convenience can sometimes come at a low cost. Don't you love staying at a hotel and finding the convenient clothes line in the shower?
I do. I have a wooden drying rack from my college years, but the glue has worn out in several places, and it can't stand upright on its own anymore. With all the baby laundry we have ahead of us--including our crib linens that can't go in the dryer (argh), we needed a better drying solution.
B suggested the clothes lines that hotels feature, and I loved the idea. Hotel living at home? Sign me up!
We bought 2 retractable clothes lines, and B installed them in my shower in a snap. I washed a couple of bassinet sheets last week and was very pleased not to have to drag out that horrible drying rack.
There is one minor issue with installing the lines in the shower, though--you have to remember that you have items hanging in there before turning the shower on. Going forward, perhaps I ought to leave the curtain open when items are drying...
Friday, April 8, 2011
Pregnancy essentials
We have another month or so (plus or minus 2 weeks) before we meet Rooster, and I thought I'd share a few items that have been essential for maintaining my sanity and comfort during my pregnancy. This list is short because I wanted to include only the items that I could not have lived without during this time.
Peace of mind essentials
My mother sent me a Consumer Reports shopping list, and I used it to create a checklist (ok, the document I created was a bit more complex than that) for shopping for Rooster. Most of the checklists in the freebie baby and pregnancy magazines that I've received from the doctor and from childbirthing class have been longer, more intimidating, and full of stuff you don't actually need right away. The CR list was clearly put together by someone who doesn't want to waste your time or money.
The second item in this category is difficult to categorize, but it comes down to getting your house in order in anticipation of your new arrival. Every weekend, we have a lengthy to-do list that we tackle. We accomplish many tasks, but the list does not seem to grow any shorter because I keep adding items to it. However, we're finally finishing chores and tasks that we've been ignoring for a while (in some cases, for years).
Sleeping essentials
I had a lot of trouble training myself to sleep on my side, and my Snoogle Total Body Pillow, a recommendation from my cousin, has made my nights so much better. It's shaped like a long C, and it allows me to sleep on either side. Before I committed to the Snoogle, I propped myself up with pillows, but after you dance the Snoogle dance, you realize that traditional pillows are far inferior. One note - you don't need the Snoogle until you have to start sleeping on your side (around the fifth or sixth month).
My second item is simple and inexpensive - a nightlight for the bathroom. You can expect multiple trips to the bathroom each night, and all that waking is difficult enough to overcome without having to deal with jarring and bright bathroom lights. Buy one as early as possible.
Finally, a humidifier has been invaluable. My congestion has improved since my second trimester, but I still wake up congested every morning without the humidifier. A note - the hot humidifier turns our bedroom into a bit of a sauna, which was great in January, when the room temperature fell below 60 degrees some nights. The sauna experience is a little less desirable in warmer months. A cold humidifier would have been a more flexible option.
Comfort essentials
My belly has been itchy since practically Day 1, and I don't know what I would have done without my Bella B Tummy Honey Butter. It's a little greasy, particularly if you use a lot, but it helps with the itching and has thus far helped me avoid stretch marks.
For the last trimester, I recommend a balance ball and a microwaveable (grain-filled) neck wrap. Both help with the upper-back pain that has become a hallmark of my third trimester.
Clothing essentials
If you're tall, you're going to have trouble finding maternity pants. Even if you're not tall, I can't recommend the Gap gBalance pants enough. They're comfortable and wash and dry well.
I also recommend a couple of cheap maternity tank tops--mine are from Old Navy--in black, white, and any other colors you like. They're great under loose and low-cut maternity tops.
Food essentials
Still no food cravings, but I have been snacking on Cheez-Its since almost day one. When morning sickness or hunger strikes, fight back with carbs!
Ice cream has been another essential food, though it's more of an evening than a daytime snack for me. And because you are supposed to eat extra calories each day anyway, it's a guilt-free experience!
There isn't much I will miss about being pregnant, but I will miss the guilt-free calories...
Peace of mind essentials
My mother sent me a Consumer Reports shopping list, and I used it to create a checklist (ok, the document I created was a bit more complex than that) for shopping for Rooster. Most of the checklists in the freebie baby and pregnancy magazines that I've received from the doctor and from childbirthing class have been longer, more intimidating, and full of stuff you don't actually need right away. The CR list was clearly put together by someone who doesn't want to waste your time or money.
The second item in this category is difficult to categorize, but it comes down to getting your house in order in anticipation of your new arrival. Every weekend, we have a lengthy to-do list that we tackle. We accomplish many tasks, but the list does not seem to grow any shorter because I keep adding items to it. However, we're finally finishing chores and tasks that we've been ignoring for a while (in some cases, for years).
Sleeping essentials
I had a lot of trouble training myself to sleep on my side, and my Snoogle Total Body Pillow, a recommendation from my cousin, has made my nights so much better. It's shaped like a long C, and it allows me to sleep on either side. Before I committed to the Snoogle, I propped myself up with pillows, but after you dance the Snoogle dance, you realize that traditional pillows are far inferior. One note - you don't need the Snoogle until you have to start sleeping on your side (around the fifth or sixth month).
My second item is simple and inexpensive - a nightlight for the bathroom. You can expect multiple trips to the bathroom each night, and all that waking is difficult enough to overcome without having to deal with jarring and bright bathroom lights. Buy one as early as possible.
Finally, a humidifier has been invaluable. My congestion has improved since my second trimester, but I still wake up congested every morning without the humidifier. A note - the hot humidifier turns our bedroom into a bit of a sauna, which was great in January, when the room temperature fell below 60 degrees some nights. The sauna experience is a little less desirable in warmer months. A cold humidifier would have been a more flexible option.
Comfort essentials
My belly has been itchy since practically Day 1, and I don't know what I would have done without my Bella B Tummy Honey Butter. It's a little greasy, particularly if you use a lot, but it helps with the itching and has thus far helped me avoid stretch marks.
For the last trimester, I recommend a balance ball and a microwaveable (grain-filled) neck wrap. Both help with the upper-back pain that has become a hallmark of my third trimester.
Clothing essentials
If you're tall, you're going to have trouble finding maternity pants. Even if you're not tall, I can't recommend the Gap gBalance pants enough. They're comfortable and wash and dry well.
I also recommend a couple of cheap maternity tank tops--mine are from Old Navy--in black, white, and any other colors you like. They're great under loose and low-cut maternity tops.
Food essentials
Still no food cravings, but I have been snacking on Cheez-Its since almost day one. When morning sickness or hunger strikes, fight back with carbs!
Ice cream has been another essential food, though it's more of an evening than a daytime snack for me. And because you are supposed to eat extra calories each day anyway, it's a guilt-free experience!
There isn't much I will miss about being pregnant, but I will miss the guilt-free calories...
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