Just as I was finishing up feeding R this morning, I noticed an alarmingly hard area in my right boob. I still get engorged once in a while, and I've had plugged ducts, but this felt like neither. For one thing, it was in an isolated area. For another, there wasn't any pain, redness, or feelings of exhaustion, all of which accompanied my previous experiences with mastitis. In fact, the area felt rather numb. Ironically, this lack of pain freaked me out. And, come on, who wouldn't panic when it feels like a mischievous little breast pixie tucked a golf ball inside your breast while you slept.
I tried to tempt baby girl to get a little more milk out but she wasn't having any of that. Dragged out my dusty breast pump but the stupid thing couldn't squeeze out more than a drop.
Well, long story short, took two lecithin capsules, did a lot of massaging and warm compresses, and had a very long nursing session in the afternoon right before R's nap, when she was half asleep--perfect because she wasn't distracted and pulling on and off.
Success! The horrifying rock sliding around behind my nipple has almost completely melted away.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Baby Sunscreen Recs
Summer is heading this way and most babes are going to be getting more sun exposure--unless your baby is like mine and flinches and flails, even when asleep, at the merest tickle of light. I'm the mom that you see either walking with an umbrella when it isn't raining or entombing her baby inside the stroller with layers of blankets, but only because R, my little baby vampire, demands it. Anyhow, for everyone else, Safe Mama recently did a nice baby sunscreen roundup.
Onesies!
Until now, I've scarcely bought any clothing for R because every single baby gift I've received so far has been clothes. The little miss's cabinets are full to bursting. We could start a baby sock shop.
I can only surmise that there must be something universally irresistible about miniature outfits. I know I can't wait to buy things for R myself, and now that the weather is warming up, I've been surfing the Web for some less pajama-looking onesies, particularly ones that are decidedly NOT pink. If anyone reading this is doing some searching of their own because they need to buy a baby gift, can I give you one piece of advice? No one--trust me on this--wants to dress their new baby girl in Pepto-Bismol pink. Baby R's own wardrobe often looks like a flamingo exploded in there, but what can you do?
Here are a few nice onesies that I've found so far:
Escape by Circles & Squares (see closeup of graphic; picture shows baby tee but it's also available as long- and short-sleeved onesies)
Guinea Pig on organic cotton by Circles & Squares (comes in both infant-onesie and bigger-kid sizes; there are also other onesies printed with less commonly seen creatures like the meerkat, kiwi bird, and anteater) And although they aren't onesies, I really like the gentle colors and jovial vegetables featured on the organic baby tees by Puddlefoot. My favorites are the beet and celery.
An added bonus is that Puddlefoot offers free shipping to addresses in Canada and the United States. *The onesie shown at the top of this post is Old School Woodsy, sold at The Retro Baby.
Friday, April 24, 2009
California Baby "Super Sensitive Hair Conditioner"
Lately, the hair at the back of baby girl's head was getting seriously matted after every nap and had developed a texture not unlike steel wool. She even had a few mini dreads. So I bought the Super Sensitive Hair Conditioner by California Baby, choosing it primarily because it contains no fragrance and seems to use natural ingredients (I admit I didn't really do much research on this). I used just the tiniest dot of conditioner in R's hair, combed it through, and then rinsed it out. I wasn't sure what to expect and so was pretty surprised to find her hair completely back to normal the next day. And her hair stayed straight and smooth for three days before starting to frizz up a little bit again. The price for this rather small bottle (8.5 oz / 255 ml) of conditioner was US$11.49, which seems expensive, but considering how fine and short most baby hair is and how little you need to use, one bottle could actually last quite a long time. After checking out the California Baby Web site, I noticed that the conditioner even contains "natural sunscreens"--not that I really know what kind of protective coverage that would provide, but, hey, every little bit counts, I guess.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Ah, breastfeeding. What could so perfectly conjure up that maternal emotion of quiet, tender love as the scene of a mother nursing her infant? Unless you're me, of course. Because then, most likely, your jaws would be clenched and your shoulders stiffly hunched as your own flesh and blood lays siege to your body.
If someone asked me what's the hardest part about being a new mother, I would answer unequivocably: breastfeeding. What's so hard about it? Well, first, there's that little bit of pressure regarding adequately nourishing your child. Imagine holding your fragile new daughter, who, hysterical with hunger, tries to find relief at your breast, only to pull back, flailing and screaming even louder. Then having a nurse gasp and say, "Oh, no" after weighing your one-week old baby, who apparently has lost too much weight. Then having the pediatrician tell you that your babe is dangerously jaundiced and that you have to supplement with formula because your milk isn't working, isn't enough (which translates in a crazed new-mom's brain as: You've completely failed your child and it's entirely your fault that she's sick).
Breastfeeding also has its physical discomforts. In my case, so far, my breasts have been: bitten, bruised, puked on, kicked, kneed, pounded on by little fists, clawed and bloodied, pinched, yanked on, shoved away, infected, blistered, and so engorged at times, I couldn't put my arms down or bear to feel a soft t-shirt against my skin. I still can't face forward in the shower, unless my arms are crossed shield-like over my chest against the water spray. Hugging makes me wince. It's been almost two months and the multiple milk blisters on my left nipple aren't healing and there's sharp pain every time I nurse, and even when I'm not nursing. Although really it's nothing compared to the experience of nursing with thrush--thank god that's over--which felt like there was a shard of jagged glass repeatedly plunging straight through my breast and out past my shoulder blade.
I'm not tallying up my battle wounds like a strutting jock. I'm not fishing for sympathy--because truly, after all this time, you get a bit numb to the discomforts. I'm writing this post because I haven't yet met a mom struggling with breastfeeding who didn't tear up when we shared experiences. I don't want to scare anyone who hasn't gone through it. I have friends who declare it everything those Madonna and Child paintings depict it to be, who adore each precious bonding moment. But for those of us who find it a challenge--a "war" was how I thought of it in the beginning, when every nursing session left me feeling utterly drained and defeated--just know that you're not a failure and a wuss for crying, for finding it hard, for having thoughts of giving up. If you have any doubts, just visit the La Leche forum, and you'll see there are many, many other moms going through something similar or maybe, sadly, something worse.
I think a low point for me, though, came a few months back, when my own lactation consultant told me that maybe I should consider giving up. No, there's no shame in pumping or turning to formula. But that's not what I needed to hear when what I was seeking was encouragement and hope. Okay, sure, while she's savaging my nipple, my daughter's roving little fingers still attack any exposed flesh like she's Bruno the Burly Baker working on a rebellious piece of bread dough. Yeah, the slow-healing milk blisters are bugging the heck out of me. Maybe all this jaw-clenching is realigning my until-now straight rows of teeth. Also, tonight, the little poopsies bit me so hard I felt the pain surge like a wave all the way down my body. But when I glance through my baby girl's newborn photos and see exactly how much she's changed, how big she's grown, how squeezably chubby her body has become, I feel...awed and amazed that somehow I had something to do with that. And on those rare occasions when we're not battling, when she's getting sleepy at my breast and the abuse from those terrifying little hands turns to gentle petting, or when she's just about to nurse and opens her mouth, like a baby bird beneath a dangling worm, with utter confidence in my ability to feed her, I do understand the peaceful connection that other women experience with their babies.
The best thing to do is think only about getting through today. Don't dwell on the weeks and months stretching ahead of you. Some things actually do get better. My daughter eventually stopped choking and crying while nursing when I finally fixed my overactive letdown (this took weeks of militantly precise block feeding). I woke up one morning and my shirt and sheets weren't completely drenched and soggy with milk from my stupid leaking breasts. I haven't had a plugged duct--utterly terrifying for anyone who's ever had mastitis--in weeks. And I can sort of, almost, practically feed my daughter without using my beloved My Breast Friend pillow. Now if we could only nurse in public without my daughter swatting at the nursing cover so hard my breasts are revealed to all the hapless passersby.
If someone asked me what's the hardest part about being a new mother, I would answer unequivocably: breastfeeding. What's so hard about it? Well, first, there's that little bit of pressure regarding adequately nourishing your child. Imagine holding your fragile new daughter, who, hysterical with hunger, tries to find relief at your breast, only to pull back, flailing and screaming even louder. Then having a nurse gasp and say, "Oh, no" after weighing your one-week old baby, who apparently has lost too much weight. Then having the pediatrician tell you that your babe is dangerously jaundiced and that you have to supplement with formula because your milk isn't working, isn't enough (which translates in a crazed new-mom's brain as: You've completely failed your child and it's entirely your fault that she's sick).
Breastfeeding also has its physical discomforts. In my case, so far, my breasts have been: bitten, bruised, puked on, kicked, kneed, pounded on by little fists, clawed and bloodied, pinched, yanked on, shoved away, infected, blistered, and so engorged at times, I couldn't put my arms down or bear to feel a soft t-shirt against my skin. I still can't face forward in the shower, unless my arms are crossed shield-like over my chest against the water spray. Hugging makes me wince. It's been almost two months and the multiple milk blisters on my left nipple aren't healing and there's sharp pain every time I nurse, and even when I'm not nursing. Although really it's nothing compared to the experience of nursing with thrush--thank god that's over--which felt like there was a shard of jagged glass repeatedly plunging straight through my breast and out past my shoulder blade.
I'm not tallying up my battle wounds like a strutting jock. I'm not fishing for sympathy--because truly, after all this time, you get a bit numb to the discomforts. I'm writing this post because I haven't yet met a mom struggling with breastfeeding who didn't tear up when we shared experiences. I don't want to scare anyone who hasn't gone through it. I have friends who declare it everything those Madonna and Child paintings depict it to be, who adore each precious bonding moment. But for those of us who find it a challenge--a "war" was how I thought of it in the beginning, when every nursing session left me feeling utterly drained and defeated--just know that you're not a failure and a wuss for crying, for finding it hard, for having thoughts of giving up. If you have any doubts, just visit the La Leche forum, and you'll see there are many, many other moms going through something similar or maybe, sadly, something worse.
I think a low point for me, though, came a few months back, when my own lactation consultant told me that maybe I should consider giving up. No, there's no shame in pumping or turning to formula. But that's not what I needed to hear when what I was seeking was encouragement and hope. Okay, sure, while she's savaging my nipple, my daughter's roving little fingers still attack any exposed flesh like she's Bruno the Burly Baker working on a rebellious piece of bread dough. Yeah, the slow-healing milk blisters are bugging the heck out of me. Maybe all this jaw-clenching is realigning my until-now straight rows of teeth. Also, tonight, the little poopsies bit me so hard I felt the pain surge like a wave all the way down my body. But when I glance through my baby girl's newborn photos and see exactly how much she's changed, how big she's grown, how squeezably chubby her body has become, I feel...awed and amazed that somehow I had something to do with that. And on those rare occasions when we're not battling, when she's getting sleepy at my breast and the abuse from those terrifying little hands turns to gentle petting, or when she's just about to nurse and opens her mouth, like a baby bird beneath a dangling worm, with utter confidence in my ability to feed her, I do understand the peaceful connection that other women experience with their babies.
The best thing to do is think only about getting through today. Don't dwell on the weeks and months stretching ahead of you. Some things actually do get better. My daughter eventually stopped choking and crying while nursing when I finally fixed my overactive letdown (this took weeks of militantly precise block feeding). I woke up one morning and my shirt and sheets weren't completely drenched and soggy with milk from my stupid leaking breasts. I haven't had a plugged duct--utterly terrifying for anyone who's ever had mastitis--in weeks. And I can sort of, almost, practically feed my daughter without using my beloved My Breast Friend pillow. Now if we could only nurse in public without my daughter swatting at the nursing cover so hard my breasts are revealed to all the hapless passersby.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Disposable Diaper-Changing Sheets
Before Baby R was born, a fellow dog-owning friend confessed that she used puppy toilet-training sheets when changing her son's diaper. Having no desire to wash the diaper-changing pad cover every time there was leakage (or squirtage, as the case sometimes is with a baby), I thought it was a pretty good idea. One concern I had, though, was that it could add up to a lot of money. My dog's pee pads are not cheap, but because I live in an apartment and mostly because I'm a lazy bum and don't want to trudge all the way downstairs and outside late at night for that last potty break before bedtime (oh, stop sneering, all you home-with-a-yard owners), I'm willing to fork over the dough and withstand censorious looks from the petshop cashier person, who informs me they have a great toilet-training class for dogs.
A second concern was that I didn't really want my baby's skin coming in contact with questionable chemicals, which those pet sheets are often treated with to encourage a puppy to pee.
After touring a few incontinence Web sites, further Googling led me to Mednet Direct. At $34.95 for 300 sheets, this was definitely the cheapest deal I could find. And everything about the site was totally suspicious--just check it out and you'll see what I mean. In addition, at the time, all I could find online were endless press releases about Mednet and its great deal on puppy sheets, but nary a legitimate human review.
Being the wild risk-taker that I am, I decided "what the heck" and ordered a box. For the record, they have a pretty expensive flat-rate shipping charge of $12.95, but the total price was still lower than anything else I could find. A week later, much to my surprise, the pads arrived, and in a fairly compact box, to boot (a bonus, as I'd been worrying about where to keep 300 bloody pee-pee sheets, but the whole lot fit quite neatly in the little cabinet under the bathroom sink).
First things first, the quality of these sheets is not great, especially for dogs. My pup is a little guy, but when he uses one of these sheets, the pee rapidly seeps past the border--and just keeps on going. On the other hand, it's more than adequate if you're using it for changing diapers. Unless there's an accident, your baby isn't going to pee on this thing. It's just to catch a smear here and there, and save you from doing extra laundry. In our house, one sheet lasts us a long time, unless Baby Girl has a particularly explosive blowout.
So that's the verdict: The Mednet sheets are cheap, both in price and quality, but for changing diapers, you don't need to waste your money on something better. They're also great for diaper changing outside of the house, whether you're protecting your baby from having to come in contact with those changing tables in public restrooms or doing an emergency change on the floor...somewhere.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
SimplyNoise.com
So we're officially "sleep training"--spurred on by three evenings in a row of very cranky, inconsolable wailing by a baby who's tired but won't sleep. I'm reading books, Web sites, mommy/baby/parent forums, you name it. And one recurrent recommendation was a white-noise machine. So yesterday, Baby Girl, the dog, and I strollered through darkness and rain to Target, in search of this supposedly magical apparatus. They didn't have one.
Sleepwise, it hadn't actually been a terrible day. Our little evening outing seemed to have put the little pookies in a good mood and she continued to nap happily in her Bugaboo Cocoon even after we got home. She's been waking up in the middle of the night, not hungry but fussing, though, and I was eager to test out the power of white noise. A quick "white noise" search brought me to SimplyNoise.com. What I like about this site is there's no downloading required. You just go there and the white noise starts. There are actually three options--white, pink, and brown/red noise--with white being the highest pitch and brown/red a deeper rushing sound, almost like ocean waves. I set up the laptop near baby's bassinet and just let it play all night.
I don't know if the sleep training is starting to work or if it was all about the white noise, but yesterday, at exactly 1:40am (that girl is like a clock, I tell you), I heard the heavy breathing and then the dreaded "eh eh eh," and then--silence. Until 8:30am the next morning. Hallelujah, praise the Internet, Elizabeth Pantley, the Baby Whisperer's idea of "wake to sleep," and the almighty white noise--and I really have to go and feed her now.
Sleepwise, it hadn't actually been a terrible day. Our little evening outing seemed to have put the little pookies in a good mood and she continued to nap happily in her Bugaboo Cocoon even after we got home. She's been waking up in the middle of the night, not hungry but fussing, though, and I was eager to test out the power of white noise. A quick "white noise" search brought me to SimplyNoise.com. What I like about this site is there's no downloading required. You just go there and the white noise starts. There are actually three options--white, pink, and brown/red noise--with white being the highest pitch and brown/red a deeper rushing sound, almost like ocean waves. I set up the laptop near baby's bassinet and just let it play all night.
I don't know if the sleep training is starting to work or if it was all about the white noise, but yesterday, at exactly 1:40am (that girl is like a clock, I tell you), I heard the heavy breathing and then the dreaded "eh eh eh," and then--silence. Until 8:30am the next morning. Hallelujah, praise the Internet, Elizabeth Pantley, the Baby Whisperer's idea of "wake to sleep," and the almighty white noise--and I really have to go and feed her now.
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