Taste test

After Dr. John gave us the green light to go ahead and introduce "solids" once Tempest appeared interested, we thought long and hard about the pros and cons of giving a 4 month old anything but breast milk.  This was not a decision we undertook lightly.  There's all kinds of misinformation out there on the interwebs and even in books written by - gasp - medical professionals.  (Rice cereal is good/bad/causes obesity.  Start with fruit purees!  But no, they have sugar.  That will make your kid obese.  Start with oatmeal because it's gluten free except no, don't, because it's constipating!) 

Is your head spinning yet?

We watched Tess over a period of a week leading up to her 4 month appointment because I had suspected that she was curious about the food I was putting into my mouth and possibly ready to give it a go herself.  She'd started reaching for utensils and would stare at me chewing, sometimes for uncomfortably intense periods of time, before busting out laughing.  Eating is hilarious.  Who knew? 

The bottle thing is not getting any better, that's for sure.  She'll selectively take formula as long as it is heated to warmer-than-body-temp but never in any great quantities.  I think the record is maybe 1.5 oz at once.  So maybe this is a good opportunity, we thought, to broaden her horizons and try a little sample of what's to come?  We ran it by the pediatrician and got her blessing.  She gave us the guidelines: one ingredient every four days, no more than one feeding per day of "solids" (I put that in quotes because we're talking a soupy mess of three parts breast milk to one part of whatever fruit/vegetable we steam and then puree.  Think the consistency of melted ice cream.)  We weren't specifically instructed to begin with any one food. They more or less leave that up to the parents as there are cultural differences.  Some people puree scrambled eggs and others serve up some delicious avocado smoothie.  Neither would be my first choice but to each their own.

We settled on sweet potato because our sweet potato would undoubtedly take to the root veggie for which she is nicknamed.  In retrospect, orange slush stains like a champ but our hunch was correct.  She likes it! There was some curious lolling of the spoon at first but it was flexible silicon and good for her to gnaw as she learned how to get the food into her mouth more efficiently.  She probably took 6 bites but the rest of the batch, about half a cup, is frozen in the individual portion trays for the week.

We put the whole thing on GoPro but have yet to figure out how to share the file with others.  Currently troubleshooting that so stay tuned.  :)

The highchair, it should be noted, is the only one we found that has three reclining positions and a removable infant pad for younger babies like Tess.  She absolutely loves this thing.  It's the Chicco Polly, which we had our doubts about, given the reviews that complained about washability, but people, it's plastic.  You wipe it down.  No washer needed.  There are also seven height positions so you can adjust it to scoot up to kitchen island level if you'd like a tiny helper when prepping dinner.  It fits nicely in our breakfast nook and so far, Tess has enjoyed her new throne, even if she's still slightly reclined for extra head support. 

Oscar has taken to the new seating arrangements, as we knew he would.

It's kind of nice to be able to include both children at mealtimes now without having to play pass the baby between us.  And we are beyond thrilled that Tess took to her first puree with equal parts pleasure and concentration.  While it may be early by some standards, our hope is that by safely exposing her to a variety of flavors, we'll broaden her palate and by the time she's ready for second stage solids, she'll eat a greater range of foods than your typical toddler. 

Heureux Anniversaire

January 25, 2014 - hmmmmm, now what were we doing one year ago today?

Oh, right!

Acupuncture in the morning, followed by the longest drive of our lives through the snow to Fortress Ovum for a 1:00 PM date with destiny. 

It's the anniversary of your conception, Sweet Potato.  Happy Transfer Day!

Every January 25, we'll make you a tiny blastocyst-shaped treat to commemorate this very special day.  And today was extra special on this already red-letter occasion. 

Almost as if you planned it, this was the morning when you decided to come out of hiding and roll freely and frequently in front of us.  No more stealth baby!  We've got Tumblin' Tess, the most prolific back-to-belly roller in the East.

Of course we've known you could do it since December 23 but it always seemed like a fluke when you found yourself turned over.  And of course we always seemed to miss you in action and would find you flipped in the middle of the night or we'd walk back into the room after getting a snack or throwing a load in the laundry and say, "Wait a minute, wasn't she on her back earlier?"  

But now?  Oh, now you are unstoppable, child.  You straight up refuse to lie still anymore.  Put you on your back, you're rolling.  Put you on your belly, you're kicking and grunting and trying desperately with every muscle in your body to roll.  You're propelled by some invisible force to flop yourself over and over again, Xena, Warrior Princess screams and all.  (Honestly, do you have to yell every single time?  We get it.  You're enthralled by your superpowers but Oscar is not.)

It's fascinating to watch you on the move, but a this is a turning point for us and for you.  Nevermore will you be a babe at rest.  You'll be keeping us on our toes from here on out.

I could watch you roll all day.  I've probably used up half the memory on my phone trying to capture it on film before now but finally I have several clips of you like, "oh, this?  yeah, I can do this in my sleep."  At the moment, I notice that you only roll to your right and only from your back.  You become extremely frustrated when you get stuck attempting to roll from your tummy time.  You make it 2/3 of the way there but can't quite free your arm for that final push over.  We know you'll get the hang of it some day far too soon so for now, please, relax, take a chill pill and enjoy the back-to-belly fun.  Getting you down for naps and to bed will never be the same...

It is only fitting that your efforts today conjured up a snow storm - nay, a blizzard - of historic proportions, Miss Tempest.  Looks like the four of us will be spending the next few days rolling in harmony, barricaded inside against the many feet of snow. 

Leaps and Bounds

Here she is, a mere 18 weeks old, and Miss Tempest is more entertaining than any other baby I've ever laid eyes on.  (And I've seen me some babies between middle school and adulthood in my illustrious babysitting career.)

Of course I'm biased.  Most mothers would probably say the same of their own little goober.
The kid is a serious charmer.  Between her newly discovered love of belly laughs and high-pitched joy screams, to ripping ass at the most inopportune moments, she is a delight.  I am so in love with this little girl.

This shoulda been the new face of Gerber...

Among the new tricks she's picked up:

• Singing (see Elf: "I'm SINGing!  I'm SINGing!")
• Furious rattle shaking impersonations of Animal from the Muppets (this typically results in tears when she bonks herself in the face)
• "Tiger Lily" ugg-a-wug speak (hard to explain...just watch the Mary Martin Peter Pan and you'll get the idea)
• Attempts at signing "mommy" and "milk" in ASL
• An appreciation of high culture: namely Bizet's overture to Carmen (thanks to the Baby Einstein classical turtle, I've now downloaded the entire opera but the rousing opener is her main jam)
• Pout-pout face.  Hysterical.  Also sad because she looks very, very upset for no reason except it's usually around 8:00 PM and she's tired as hell because she sleeps maybe 45 min to an hour between 7:00 AM and 6:30 PM.  Seriously.
• Yelling, "Heyyyy you guuuuuuuys!" (Close your eyes and you'll hear Sloth from The Goonies.)
• Incredible She-Hulk chain breaking on her activity gym.  She whips that thing around like a jump rope and pulls with all her might.
• Inchworming.  Rhett loves when you put her down in her crib at one end and she winds up with her head against the total opposite end by sticking her butt up in the air and dragging her belly across the mattress.  Sometimes she manages to get her legs caught in the slats and that's what wakes her up.  Mesh crib bumper to the rescue!
• Stealth rolling.  We've covered this but she did it at 2:15 AM on Tuesday and neither of us saw it happen...foiled again!
• Holding her head up!  Most of the time!  She wants to sit on our laps facing outward now.  No more snuggly baby unless she's nursing.  
• Obsession with the "talking box, AKA the television.  She has noticed it and there's no going back.  Also, the "writing box" because now she's very intrigued by my online course shells.
• Teething: stuffing everything in her mouth, screaming in pain when it hurts and self-soothing with her fist, which she inevitably bite,s and then more screaming until we get the frozen ring or a milkpop.  Boy, does she make a mess with milkpops.
• Staring at Oscar and breaking into a wide grin.  Love that dog.

This week, we have our demo Music Together class to test out the East Brunswick location.  I suspect she will love wall the singing, shaking and banging.  We won't start weekly until March and by then, she will be sitting up if not scooting around.  Then, we have our intro to swimming private trial class to see if it's worth signing up for the group 6 week course.  Gotta start this little mermaid early so she can snorkel by the time we take our next bareboating trip...ha!

As we approach the depths of winter, my days are mostly merry and bright.  The sedentary newborn stretch is behind us and though I sometimes feel a pang remembering that completely dependent peanut who demanded to be worn around the house, I welcome this exciting new phase and all the challenges and discovery it will bring.

Making space

Spring cleaning has come early to L'ambiance Court. 

I find that at 17 weeks, Miss Tempest has outgrown all of her clothes from newborn through 6 months.  The child is just so dang long and lean!  Now I'm washing and drying, purposefully trying to shrink, her 6-9 month onesies just to give her something warm to wear in layers through the winter.

Pruning her closet was eye-opening.  People sure do love buying baby clothes but the wardrobe mostly stops at 9 months.  Some outfits she wore approximately once but hey, at least she wore them.  I know plenty of people (cough: certain family members: cough) who don't even know what their children own, let alone have the space to store all of the outfits they've accumulated over the years.  I have vowed to never let this happen.  Unless you stay on top of it, the closet becomes a rabbit hole and there's no getting out again.  Don't even get me started on the bins and bins of toys accumulated since Christmas.  All this for one child!  Who is 4 months old tomorrow! 

It was with a pang of wistful sadness mixed with a slight hint of accomplishment that I sifted through the baby clothes, now too small for Tess' growing frame.  Has it really gone by so quickly?  I lovingly washed and dried them all before packing them away in vacuum sealed space bags for...someday.  True, my baby girl is no longer the 6 lb 8 oz peanut we brought home from the hospital.  She actually got to wear newborn outfits for her first three weeks when most children start off life in size 0-3 months.  I held up the outfit we brought her home in: so delicate, doll-sized.  A new emotion washed over me: these must be worn again!  They're too cute to pack away for good.  I want another one.  Desperately.  I need to try for another baby - and pronto! 

I have always wanted to be done having children by 30.  Medical circumstances have made that self-imposed deadline an advisable goal.  I am now approaching 28.5 so you do the math. 

Pre-baby me used to scoff at women who warned me, "Believe me, you'll reach a point where you want another one, like, immediately.  This urge will overtake you and then one day you find yourself with 2.5 children."  Hahahahaha.  Smile and nod.  Sure...That's never going to happen.  

FALSE.

It did.  It did happen, like, immediately.  True story: Tess was about 5 days old and I actually said out loud to Rhett: "You know, that was way easier than I thought it would be.  I mean, my pregnancy sucked but it went so quickly!  Didn't it?  It felt fast and now she's here and she's perfect and I really want to do it again soon.  Don't you think we should have another one?"

...And a loud record scratch could be heard throughout the land.

Hormones?

Yeah, sure.  The blissful new mom thing is real enough but I was saying this after an emergency C-section, excruciating referred pain, disgusting full-body swelling, AND dragging our newborn to the hospital twice for blood work during her first week of life.  I really meant it. 

Motherhood agrees with me and I'm loving every messy moment of it.  It's a full-time commitment and I am fortunate enough to be able to make it, 24/7/365.

Here we are, 4 months into the parenting gig, and it really hasn't been that difficult.  Sure, there are good days and challenging days when mother and daughter barely get bathed/dressed and then change three times from all the fluids spilled/spewed/leaked over various body parts.  For someone who is lactose intolerant, I've never smelled like a one-woman dairy before.  There are days when poor Oscar gets all of ten minutes total outdoors.  But hey, that's life with an infant and it goes by shockingly quickly. I don't want it to end.  I don't want her to keep growing at this incredible rate because soon, she won't want to be held constantly and even sooner, she'll be tasting new foods like cereal and purees and she won't need only my milk to thrive. 

I look ahead to the next two months when we will begin to introduce solid foods and I get a little misty-eyed.  Just one year ago, we were waiting for our transfer date and here we are with a beautiful daughter who is determined to roll over, sit up on her own, and stuff everything she can grab in her mouth.  (She's teething, btw, and oh, is that an adventure.)  I'm not saying that a second child is a second chance to do it all again, though many people probably view it that way -- you know, righting rookie mistakes and that sort of thing.  A second child, for me, would be the ultimate gift to our first: someone close in age to grow up and grow old with, someone who would be a human sibling (sorry, Oscar) to share in the journey.  I don't want her to be alone unless that is how she's fated to be.  Not trying would not sit well with me.  And really, I'd go on having sweet, sweet babies forever if it were that simple but it's not so I two is plenty.  

There are no guarantees in any of this: I don't know if I can get pregnant again.  I hope I can, but we have many moving parts to monitor.  I'm not about to pretend that pregnancy was easy.  It wasn't.  It was pretty terrible from about 7 months onward.  I have not forgotten that.  I do not have willful amnesia.  The pain and frequent scares are still fresh.  Will I have some of the same complications?  Maybe.  Is that fair to a toddler?  Probably not, but there's no "good" time to do this.  My endo is fairly prohibitive for conception and I know that the time is now rather than later.  Biology is beckoning me to give it a go. 

We have our daughter and she is my everything.  If it doesn't work out, I know we'll be okay.  If it does, I will be elated.  Either way, it's a win.  We overcame the odds and our super frosty is asleep in her crib as I write this.  Maybe we'll be the lucky ones and get to do it again.  Just in case, I am making space in our home and in my heart for the possibility of loving someone else as much as I love my firstborn.  It's a tall order but I'm confident that if it's meant to be, it will happen. 

In Dreams

What could a 16-week-old possibly dream about? 

This question fascinates me. 

On my second dedicated day of school work/post holiday organizing, I've bundled Tempest and set her snugly on the couch next to me to sleep.  Every 5-10 minutes, she'll cycle cry without actually shedding tears.  She makes these soft, on the verge of crying coos (meh meh meh) and pouts her lips as if something is truly unpleasant.  She may grunt and let out a single, high-pitched "HEY!"  I hold her hands, caress her cheek, but she does not wake. 

So what could she be dreaming of that upsets her so? 

Some theorists think it could be reliving the trauma of birth.  Well, sure, that's a possibility, though we never remember the event in our conscious lives.  Could it be an infant's way of making peace with early distressing events so they can grow up and forget?  Maybe.  I would think for c-section babies like Tess, birth would be particularly traumatic as there are no contractions to move them down the birth canal to prepare them for the glaring spotlight of this world.  It's just warm comfort inside of mom and then...not.  Bright lights, big operating room!  From a psychological/developmental standpoint, birth is the single most stressful event in a young baby's life so I definitely buy the fact that she may possess memories she cannot process.
 
Perhaps she's dreaming of pain.  I hope not, but it's possible.  She endured multiple heel pricks in her first five days, her poor little feet being milked for all they were worth in order to fill multiple vials of blood.  I don't want her to remember that particular sensation but she very well may.  We can sense pain in utero, after all.  She's never been particularly upset by the vaccines at the doctor's office, though she does cry for a moment or two after the injections are given.  Or perhaps she's reliving the near-miss moment when Oscar accidentally kicked her shoulder when she was all of three days old?  Doubtful.

My theory: she has been refusing bottles since early December and every time we attempt to give her one, she screams bloody murder and chokes herself, milk pooling in her mouth and running down her chin.  I think she's dreaming that she'll never get to eat at the breastaurant again and therefore giant nightmarish bottles are chasing her in her sleep, forcing her to open wide or else.

We will never know for sure.  Her bad dreams are, sadly, hers alone to grapple with and because she wakes up happy and smiling, I am confident they aren't doing any lasting psychological damage.  When she does aim one of her megawatt smiles at me, I return it , glad to see my baby's eyes again, and open up the breastaurant for a little comfort food.     

Thankful

Happy New Year!  It's 2015 and we've transitioned from horses to sheep in the blink of an eye (even if Chinese New Year isn't officially until February.)

I have much too much catch up blogging to do so I won't call it that.  I'll hit the highlight reel of things I meant to write and move on.  No sense dwelling, right?

Thankful

Rhett and I had plenty of opportunity to reflect on the past year leading up to Tempest's first Thanksgiving.  Had things worked out differently - and thankfully they didn't - we were slated for a Day 6 transfer on Thanksgiving morning, 2013.  Our blastocysts simply weren't finished dividing their cells in time which is how we wound up with 7 frosties for a January 2014 transfer…and a hot mess of plummeting hormones on Thanksgiving day after stopping all injections.  That was a rough holiday and an anxious December spent waiting and waiting for January to just hurry up already.

This Thanksgiving was quiet and relaxing, despite an 11th hour oven malfunction that left us with two crockpots, the stove top, and the microwave to cook our feast.  It was staggering to think how far we'd come in just 365 days, staring at our amazing daughter who had learned to grasp a mini spatula just in time to "help out in the kitchen."

I will always cherish the time spent with my parents, just the six of us (including Oscar, of course), with nowhere to be but together.  We took Tess out on Black Friday just to get some fresh air and walk around Peddler's Village but that was it.  It was intimate and lovely.


Yuletide Progress

We'll begin with the mercifully shot-free 3 month well visit on December 19.  Tess measured in at 24 inches, 12 lbs 10 oz.  She is well on her way and making amazing leaps, including sporadic rolling over (about four times total now.)  I was not prepared for it happening this early but that's our daughter: she surprises us every day by displaying new skills she's kept secret from us.  She's only done it in front of an audience once but I'll leave the room for a moment and there she is, on her belly when I've put her down on her back.  Go figure.  She's a stealth tumbler. 

The very next morning, we loaded up the sleigh and pulled out at 5:30 AM to make it to Pittsburgh by lunch time.  The big family party was festive and overrun with exuberant children, and this year three new babies made their introductions.  Tess has two boy cousins, each three weeks apart, along with 7 older cousins whom she was finally introduced to amidst the merriment.

 Rowan (8/3), Emmett (8/29), Tempest (9/16)

I can imagine it must have been overwhelming for her to be held by so many people, big and small, but she coped fairly well.  It had been a long drive, after all, and I can't believe that she slept for more than 4 of the 6 hours, waking only to nurse (when we weren't parked at a rest stop, naturally.)

We spent an extra day at Gram's with most of the family coming back over for a Christmas open house.  I haven't seen my grandmother's home that full-to-the-brim since I was the youngest cousin running around, sneaking cookies.  It was a red letter day and I'm glad that we have those memories for Tess to cherish when she's older.

After braving the return trip on the turnpike, I started to feel that rundown oh, no...I'm getting sick feeling and sure enough, welcome Christmas cold.  This time, Tess and I got it together.  She was such a trooper to go to-ing and fro-ing with us for the next week-and-a-half, never once complaining, though the lack of sleep did catch up with her (and me) in the end.  The moment we got home, she fell asleep in her carrier and never woke up for her late-night meal.  She slept nearly 6 hours in her own crib that night.  Let the angels sing!

We spent a wonderfully foggy Christmas Eve in New Hope, followed by a Christmas morning that has set the bar so high, I shudder to think how we'll ever top it in the years to come.  After a delicious brunch, we headed to Haverford and spent Christmas night and Boxing Day among friends and family.  Oscar and Lily were shipped off to camp together and had the time of their lives, I'm sure, if their fatigue on the other side was any indicator.  I do wish Tess and I had been feeling our physical best but we made the most of our visits and the progress continued back to New Hope so we could all pile in the car at 3:15 AM to make our 4:03 Amtrak to Williamsburg, VA.

Well, that was an experience.  Nearly minus a Grandpap, who learned the hard way that the parking garage was closed at that hour, we just made the train.  It was no-frills regional rail but Business Class is the way to go for a 7 hour trip.  Leg room, proximity to restrooms and cafe car: so worth it. 

Tess became a professional traveler seemingly overnight.  She slept in her carrier until D.C. and then was as happy as could be with the rocking of the train and her freedom to nurse on demand.  Colonial Williamsburg is much as I remember it from 15 years ago.  It actually seemed bigger instead of smaller, as things do when you grow and they stay the same.  Perhaps it was because I am now a grown woman instead of a reluctant, be-costumed child, but I enjoyed the trip thoroughly.  Toting T around in her Ergobaby was a breeze and the taverns with their scrumptious seafood and fortified libations were appropriately festive.  It was wonderful to spend our third anniversary (and third year running) out of town seeing new sights.  Like my parents, we are fortunate to have a wedding date that straddles the holidays so we're never at a loss for activities.

Three days down Virginia way was perfect.  Though it would have been fun to stay through New Year's, I got my Fife and Drum fix, plus the weather had turned as frigid as it is now up north.  No, we most certainly did not stay up till Midnight on New Year's Eve, as we just arrived back at Haverford a little before 7 pm.  I barely made it through dinner but at an appropriate hour, I said my goodnights and Oscar, Tess and I passed out by 10:45.  Rhett joined us at 12:05, equally exhausted from our travels.

After a relaxing New Year's Day visit with the immediate family unit, we said our farewells to the California contingent, sad to see them go until the summer, and drove back to New Hope to meet Ken and Karen for lunch so they could meet the baby.  By 6:00 PM on January 2, home was calling.  Loudly.  Packing the sleigh to capacity, we drove off into the darkness, pleasantly surfeited on wassailing here and there for two weeks solid and so incredibly thankful to be heading home to sleep in our beds, safe and sound.

It was a blessed yuletide and one we will treasure forever -- even if we never attempt the same amount of travel in that brief time span again. 

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and goodnight!