Halfway through

On March 16, Tempest Felicity Caldwell Austell turned 6 months old.

Now there's a record scratch moment for this Mama.  6 months?

My baby's first year is half over, already?  I feel like we just got through the holiday whirlwind with our newborn, I blinked or took a quick nap or something, and now she's crawling and eating solid food and and sitting in high chairs in restaurants!  Soon enough she'll be standing on her own and scooting and maybe even speaking in a language other than babble raspberries, along with all the other first year milestones we have yet to experience.  Summer is going to be one wild ride.

Onto the update!

At her 6 month well-visit, she weighed 16 lbs (with diaper on) and was 29.5 inches long.  This child is wearing mostly 9-12 months in clothing now, depending on the brand, and continues to eat new foods with the voracity of a baby velociraptor.  Watch those fingers!  chomp chomp

She is a professional crawler, as of St. Patty's Day.  She can stop, change direction, back up, go forward, side to side and even does this hurdler stance to achieve a seated position without assistance.  One of her favorite activities is to lunge for Oscar when he comes prancing into the room.  She squeals with glee and goes bear crawling after him while he deftly avoids her, sometimes seeking shelter on the furniture where he knows she can't reach him…yet.  Your day is coming, pal.  She will learn to stand and then nowhere will be safe!  Tess also enjoys grabbing O's feet and trying to chew them.  She likes his tail, as well, but he's having none of that.  We always grab her hand and tell her, "gentle, Oscar" which means she's probably going to think her name is Oscar.  ha!

We lowered the mattress in her crib one notch on the first day of spring (when it snowed 6 inches) because she can pull herself up and gnaw on the bars like a little beaver pup.  She doesn't like not being able to see out with the snazzy new bumper installed so she's started pressing her entire body weight down on the bumper to flatten it, then she chews on the top, making grunting noises, until someone comes to pick her up.   I have a feeling she's going to teach herself to stand up in there sooner rather than later for a better view.  What a nebinsky!

Dining out has become much more enjoyable now that she can sit in a high chair and be mostly entertained by the new surroundings.  I've learned that if I bring the Boon squeeze spoon and some puree, I don't have to order something that comes with a pickle, which, by the way, she absolutely loves.  She does not appreciate having her pickle taken away before she's finished sucking every last seed out of the slimy shell.  I guess there are worse things she could be eating but I try to limit her to half a pickle per outing.  Nothing like a nice green salt lick for baby!  

So far, she's eaten peas, carrots, sweet potato, banana, black beans, mango, cantaloupe, chia, quinoa, millet, oats, rice, apple, butternut squash, spinach, kale, blueberries, pear, avocado and enjoyed pretty much everything she's put in her mouth.  Her absolute favorite is still banana pear oatmeal breakfast, homemade, steamed and blended with a bit of formula.  She makes the sweetest baby bird faces and eats like its her last meal.  I love it.  We even do "beverage service" with a bottle to get her used to drinking while she eats.  While she can't quite self-feed yet, she tries her best.

The motor skills are there but she still prefers drinking at the Breastaurant.  Yeah…speaking of…that weaning thing?  Not going so well.  It's a slow crawl toward boob independence but I've set a new goal of having her totally off by the end of September.  That way, she's not prematurely forced into something that's probably going to be fairly unpleasant for both of us and I can pace it so that more interesting, chewable foods can slowly replace mother's milk.  Kid still won't take a damn bottle so I might as well wait for the good stuff like finger foods to help me out.

I won't go deep into sleep woes here.  Pretty much nothing has improved from an earlier post about frequent wakings wah-wah-wah.  In fact, things have gotten profoundly worse, thanks to phase 2 of teething.  No pearly whites in sight but I can feel them cresting the bone.  I just wish they'd hurry up and give her - and me - some relief.  Maybe the Easter Bunny will offer magical teething carrots to help her cut those teeth.

In short, sleeping sucks.  There.  I said it.  That's really all there is to say until we get this new bedtime bootcamp routine down.  No more 9:30 or 10:00 PM bedtime, kiddo.  You go to sleep like every other baby: when the sun is still in the sky and the clock says 7:00 PM.  I'm all for taking cues from the baby but when that baby gives no cues, will not sleep ever without parental enforcement, it's time for a big change.

This is Night One.  Talk to me in a week or two when the worst is behind us and I hope to be functioning at full brain capacity.  Spring break!  Wooohoo!  That has such a different meaning now…

I uploaded all of the photos from my iPhone during this week off and took a leisurely stroll through the pictorial history of Tess.  It is staggering to see the remarkable physical changes imprinted for posterity.  Her face, her eyes, her hands, her smile: it's all changed but somehow unchanged.  The more I get to know this little person we've created, the more I can trace behaviors back to birth or notice tendencies, now fully-realized, that make me smile.  She is dramatic and wild and loving and musical.  She is long and lean and agile.  She is alert and inquisitive and sensitive.  She is stormy, yes, but she experiences the world in a heightened sensory state, partly because she is an infant and partly because that's just Tempest.  There is no doubt our daughter will be passionate and creative in whatever she sets her mind to doing in this life.

She is such a pleasant, welcome presence in my arms in the morning.  I feel myself longing to hold her, even before she's awake, just so we can start our day together.  The sight of her megawatt grin in the early morning light jolts my heart into beating faster like nothing else can.  I melt when she lifts an arm to me, signaling, "pick me up, please!"  I know these days of babyhood are short so even on the most difficult, challenging occasions, I remind myself to step back and cherish them because the next 6 months will be over before we know it.

That's my daughter in the water

Our first official Parent and Me swim lesson this morning and you're still recovering.  Sleeping, oh miracle of miracles, for a full 2 hours at this point.  (The nap being the miracle -- but you are, too.)

I'd say that's a success!

Intrepid former pool manager, Nick, whom I've now learned has been replaced by an Israeli Olympic synchronized swimmer, finally managed to call me back last week to tell me the classes had already started but we could still join.  Really on top of his game, that one.  Mr. "don't use that GoPro in here" was already not at the top of my list so I can't say I'm sorry to see him go. 

I am thrilled that Tempest took to the water today just as much as she did during her demo with Erin a month-and-a-half ago.   There were two other babies; sweet Maddie, 11 months, whose mother, Jessica, was born and raised in Highland Park and is a teacher in Kendall Park, and Clara, a pudgy, adorable 7 month old with both mom and dad, Gina and Luke, in tow.  There was a toddler boy who came late named Jake and he was Hanna Andersson model beautiful -- total stunner.  I may have creeped his mom out starting at him.  It was a pretty good-looking class, if I do say so.

The instructor's name is Ben and he also happens to be the youth swim team coach.  They meet immediately before the baby class so he apologized for always having to start a bit after 11:00.  This just means we get a little free playtime before the structured playtime so no complaints there.  I call him Gentle Ben in my head because he's young, probably younger than me, and very sensitive and sweet with the babies.  I detected a hint of hesitancy when I told him Tess was 6 months and he said that's the youngest baby he's ever had in class but when I reassured him that she loved her demo, he seemed relieved. 

No screamers in this class!   In fact, no tears or fussing at all during the entire 30 minutes.  Maddie swallowed a ton of water on one of her dives but once she coughed it out, she was totally unfazed.  Clara is a champion kicker, Jake did his own thing, mostly, away from the little ones, and Tess was just happy as could be.  She loves jumping in.  I hold her as she "stands" on the edge and then I send her sailing up into the air, secure in my arms, landing with a big splash feet first.  She laughs her head off and kicks her legs in glee to do it over and over again.  Her joy was infectious.  

There's not much instructing at this age, obviously, but our job is to get our little ones comfortable in the water.  Looking around, I'd say mission accomplished.  The more time she spends in the pool, the easier it will be to take her to other pools and bigger bodies of water.  Once Tess masters floating, she can move onto kicking like Clara and then using a noddle tied around her belly like Maddie.  (We tried the noodle and failed.  She just wanted to eat it, face first, in the water.  ha!)

After practicing our entries, back floating, belly floating, and a variety of baby holds, we gathered in a circle for singalong time.  Wait -- what?  This is swim class.  I tried desperately to recall the verses to some kiddie favorites but this wasn't Music Together where they give you a song book ahead of time to study.  Ooof.  I did my best and basically just launched Tess in the air at the appropriate parts of "The Wheels on the Bus."  Duly noted for next time: learn more nursery rhymes and do not make up your own stupid lyrics.  

The singing marked the official end of class but we get ten minutes of free swim after.  Tess really enjoyed spinning in circles while partially submerged.  At one point, I think she got a little dizzy, as her eyes went from wild delight to unfocused panic, like a kid about to puke on a thrill ride, so I slowed it down a bit.  She was all smiles and squeals throughout, though. 

All in all, Tess and I were in the pool for about 45 minutes.  That's a good long time to make her glassy-eyed with exhaustion.  I honestly thought she was going to fall asleep when I was floating her with her head against my chest.  Once we got back into the women's locker room, she actually did fall asleep.  As I was changing her.  This was unprecedented.  She woke up at home, only to feed, and then has now been out for nearly 2.5 hours.  WOOHOO SWIMMING!

The physical experience of buoyancy is at once peaceful and exhilarating.  I can't wait to share swim class with Rhett next Saturday.  Viewing something as commonplace as a pool through my daughter's brand new eyes forces me to stop and marvel at her fearlessness and instinctual ability to hold her breath underwater without ever having experienced it outside the womb.  Babies truly are a wonder.

I'll leave you with this.  Tell me you can stay dry-eyed during this song and I will not believe you...

 

Go Ahead

Well, Tuesday was my first regular ol' annual at the gyno in I don't know how long -- years, for sure, and probably since spring of 2013 when I was first diagnosed with endo. 

It was so odd walking into my OB office with my almost-6-month-old and not being pregnant or recently postpartum.  We weren't there to talk about the baby.  It was all about me.  Of course, Dr. Convery, whom I haven't seen since she discharged me from the hospital, was thrilled to see Tess again.  She could not get over how big she is now compared with the skinny little peanut she met at two days old.  Convery has a Frozen-obsessed 4-year-old daughter but the sight of a baby girl is enough to send any mother, even an experienced obstetrician, down memory lane.  She kept saying how beautiful Tess was and how happy she seemed and to enjoy her because pretty soon I'll have a preschooler like she has.

I cannot even imagine.  When I try to think of Tempest in 6 months, or a year, all I see is a taller version of my still somewhat bald baby.  I can't picture her filling out and assuming a toddler's pudgy form but I know it's going to happen at some point.  I'm in no rush. 

The exam for us non-preggos is so fast!  I had forgotten it's basically open, swipe, poke around, show me your boobs: The End.   My mastitis is completely gone so that's great news.  Then the conversation turned toward will this dark line on my lower abdomen ever go away?  Answer: maybe.  Apparently, it's variable from woman to woman and the darker your skin, the less likely it is to fade.  I should be ok to that end.  Mine's not even that dark anymore and I certainly got lucky dodging stretchmarks this time around...but multiple pregnancies means multiple bodily ravages so I'm not holding my breath for next time.

Next time?

Yes, Virginia.  There can be a next time.

*     *     *

"So, are you going to stay not pregnant for a while?"

She was totally baiting me and, I'm pretty sure, already knew the answer.

Am I that obvious?

"I had a feeling I'd be seeing a lot of you in the next year," she replied.

She told me to get dressed and meet her in the consult room.  I filled her in on our RMA appointment and got to ask all of my questions I've been mulling for the past few weeks.  She listened intently and was characteristically measured in her responses.

I am not someone she considers to be high-risk from the outset.  The placenta previa wound up resolving itself in the end.  It moved from partial at 28 weeks to marginal at 35, which is rare but extremely positive for my outlook.  In fact, my previa could very well have been caused by the second embryo bleeding out in the form of an SCH.  Had we just transferred one, it may not have even happened.  It's hard to say for sure now but it's not a red flag.

Additionally, my A-typical preeclampsia developed more or less at term and while that is, again, rare, it is decidedly less concerning than someone who develops symptoms at 28 weeks.  Could it happen again?  Yes, certainly now that I've had it once.  But Convery wasn't all that concerned about long-term implications for chronic hypertension or anything like that because I am young, active and extremely healthy, otherwise.

In short, she doesn't see any of my complications as medically dangerous if they were to be repeated.  In her own words, "we know what we're dealing with now so worst case scenario, we know how to treat you if they come up again."

The big piece of advice was to wait another few months until late summer to give my body the ideal amount of time to heal.  From a medical perspective, she said 18-24 months in between children is advised because that is optimal recovery time.  If we do go ahead and plan a transfer in, say, August, that would be a late spring baby.  Of course, the timing depends on Tempest and her willingness to wean.  I'm not pushing her. 

As for the 9 months of discomfort from the rapid expansion stretching out all the fascia from previous surgeries, she said it could be completely different this time -- or not.  Every pregnancy is unique.  (Gee, I've heard that one before!)  Not a thing I can do about my irritable uterus but there is medication for that, just as there is for the inevitable raging heartburn.  I have to decide if the pain and discomfort is worth it (which, obviously, it is.)

The only "must" (or must not): do NOT transfer multiples.  She made me promise not to put my body through that and of course, I told her we were aiming for a SET (single embryo transfer.) She was extremely optimistic about our chances - I kept saying "if" and she kept saying "when" - because I have already been pregnant and delivered a healthy baby. 

Time will tell.

And time, naturally, brings the unexpected.

I signed no second baby contract so we're free to change our minds in the next 6 months.  I did cancel that saline sono for St. Patrick's Day, though.  I'll call back when I'm ready to get back on that roller coaster.

Until then, I'm going to enjoy every moment with my firstborn.

Marching On

Tempest is now 26 weeks old, if you can believe it, and well into teething, scooting, eating purees, attempting to crawl, launching her tiny body all over the floor and making lots of new noises.  It's incredible to see the difference from the holidays to now.  She's her same charming self but transformed into this mobile creature who will never be content with being strapped into any kind of restraint again.  Heaven help us when it's time to switch strollers.  I don't see that working out too well!  We're lucky she does well in the Ergo pack.  

February was a good month in terms of sleep and relative cheerfulness.  She seemed as pleased with her new abilities as we were watching her discover them.  Though sleep has been hit or miss (mostly miss, who am I kidding?) from the beginning, the shortest month brought the gift of three hour stretches and then "dream feeding" where she'd never fully wake up, making it easy to put her back in her crib for another two hours of shut-eye. 

February also brought the return of the midday nap - hallelujah, hallelujah - for 2-3 hours at a stretch.  This was vital.  If Mama didn't also get her nap, she would have lost her damn mind.  I took full advantage and dozed for an hour or so and then brought ,y laptop into bed with me to do school work.

My afternoons still look a lot like this:

Too bad the crib isn't currently nap material.  I'd get a heck of a lot more accomplished.  But, hey, we'll get there someday...maybe.  I admit that it's been rough, not having the dedicated time to concentrate on some dense-ass theoretical reading this quarter.  Heck, I've still got finals, a group project, a freaking 15 page paper and another project due in the next two weeks.  Come hell or high water, it will all get done.  Somehow.  I try not to let it bug me but there is an overriding sense of anxiety since I'm so close to the end of school and I don't want to blow my GPA in the homestretch.  Honestly, though, there are days where I do the bare minimum of what's required and I just can't sweat it.  My priorities lie elsewhere these days.  Overachieving is a thing of my pre-Tempest past. 

*

So here we are; a fresh month full of new possibilities!  March roared in like a snow leopard and with two weeks to go till someone turns six months, we've had to make some big adjustments in baby gear and child-proofing.   

1. No more swinging when mama's in the shower. It no longer calms her down.  She refuses to close her eyes and then it turns into a 10 minute game of peek-a-book which can be quite awkward when you're shaving your legs in a hurry, listening to your infant yell at you for daring to clean yourself up.  (Really, who doesn't want to smell like milk and spit-up all day?)  If I don't pop my head out every 30 seconds and sing absurd showtunes the entire time, I've got one very loud, very unhappy child.  But darn if she doesn't laugh her head off, happy as can be, when I unbuckle her.  Silly baby. 

2. The bassinet portion has been removed from the pack-n-play.  I made the executive decision to retire it the minute Tess could consistently get up on her hands and knees, since it's not very deep and she could accidentally eject herself.  Don't need no baby-launching out of cribs yet.  I'm just praying she never learns to do what I did - what my own grandmother taught me to do! - which was to hoist my leg over the rail of my crib and lower myself, ninja-like, down to the ground.  I must have been close to a year old but still...NOPE.  I think I'd have a heart attack if Tess starts that up. 

3. The infant insert has been removed from the car seat carrier and though I was hopeful that it would buy us another month or two sans extra padding, this long lady is almost at the height limit.  She's about 29 inches, measured today, and the limit is 30.  Chicco recommends upgrading once their feet are within two inches of the bottom but I want to give her a few more weeks since she doesn't have much heft.  The next car seat, while convertible from infant to grade-school booster, does not come with a stroller base so until she can sit up in her umbrella stroller, we're kind of SOL.  I guess it's fine to be without wheels temporarily as she's not the biggest stroller fan, anyway. It's just one more transition to consider in a never-ending parade that starts now.


As a closing thought, do they make foam helmets for babies learning to crawl?  I'd love to fabricate one.  She's not running into furniture or walls or anything because I'm watching her but sometimes she suddenly falls ass-over-tin-cups if she gets a leg stuck or tries to change direction.  It happens so quickly that I think it startles her more than it actually hurts but still, talk about Tumblin' Tess!   She'll lie there with this shocked look on her face like, "holy crap, did I do that?" and the she starts wailing to be picked up.  Poor thing.  She'll need a little more practice time before joining to U.S. Olympic team.