Open Letter to My Mother

Dear Mom,

Today as I was driving to work tonight, caught in a traffic jam, late to work and exhausted from taking care of my sick son all day, it occurred to me that about 50 years ago, with way less technology and information, with little extended family help, you raised 2 sons who were born within the same year. You did this while taking care of the house and our father. I can't imagine how you did that and survived...and raised two boys who are amazing human beings. Then 15 years later, when you were almost ready to say goodbye to two teenage boys, you became pregnant with me. You gave birth to me without medication even when I was flipped the wrong way and gave you lots of back labor (sorry!). Despite being older (and slightly surprised) parents, you and Dad never once acted too tired to play with or talk to me, despite you both working a lot to support us financially. You always made me feel special, important and loved. I never really realized how hard that was until having my own child. Just keeping him alive is a challenge!

This is not to say that we agree on everything and God knows we've had enough conflicts over our values and beliefs over the years. I know we don't agree on a LOT of stuff, but what has impressed me since I had Wilson is that you have been my number one supporter, cheerleader, encourager and support. You've been very careful not to give me advice, rather encouraging my natural mothering instincts and being supportive of my choices, even though they are unconventional. I expected to learn a lot by becoming a mother; and I also had a haunting suspicion that I would regret something when you used to say, "Oh, just wait until you have a kid!!" What I was not prepared for was for my mother to become one of my best friends, despite our differences. Even beyond this, I have become proud to see how you have grown with us over the years, how you have been so loving and accepting of all of us children, despite how difficult we may have made that for you. :)

I just want you to know that as I struggle (and I do!) to be a good mother with little family support for us here, I think of you and how you did this with little money, no iPads, iPhones, DVDs, Skype, Disney Jr., fancy toys, developmental psychology degree or family to help you...You just did this with love and faith in who we kids were as people...and this gives me strength and hope that I can make it through one more day.

I love you,

Misty

One step forward, two steps back: Parenting a "high needs" baby

After a "yep this sucks, but you can do it" messaging session with a Facebook Friend of another mother with a "high needs" baby, I am really constantly reminded how hard it is for us and others to really understand these children. While I can be one to engage in some occasional hyperbole, I am not being dramatic when I say that these children are INCREDIBLY hard to parent, partly because of their needs and partly because of the judgment you receive from others who really do not see your day to day struggles in your home. Despite my 20 years of experience caring for dozens of children (both typical and those with developmental disabilities) and an ivy league education in developmental psychology, I can honestly say that I was wholly unprepared for a difficult tempered child.

I have written about difficult tempered babies before when I first realized that Wilson was one, but here's a brief recap: Temperament is one of the most well-studied concepts in developmental psychology and the building block of our personalities. This is why multiple children of the same parents in the same family can be shy, incredibly independent, crazily active, responsible or just plain difficult. Of course, it can be altered, but, in most cases, temperament is an incredibly reliable predictor of adult personality.

If you are not sure if you have a difficult tempered child, let me help you out: you don't. These infants are EASILY recognizable (parasitic, emotional hot messes) and parents know beyond a shadow of a doubt that these children are different. Here's a few of these differences:

1. Intensity. These little people are drama queens. They cry louder, eat more, clearly and strongly communicate their needs and demands almost as soon as they are out of the womb. Wilson had temper tantrums at about 4 months (screaming at a toy that would not do what he wanted) and threw full blown toddler temper tantrums (complete with throwing his head against the floor, shrieking and biting) at 10 months.
2. Adaptability and Sensitivity. These babies adapt to novel environments about as well as a T-Rex - they would be extinct if they were on their own and roar equally loud. New things intrigue them, scare them and minor changes to their routine throw them off. Wilson would cry as if he were in pain when we changed his position as an infant. As a toddler, he is hard to direct and redirect - his patience and tolerance is what you would call "challenging". When you need him to do something, he can range from irritable to completely adversarial. He had an obsession with doors (still does) and would fly into full blown tantrums anytime we closed the refrigerator door, let the dogs out, closed a gate, etc. That was fun.
3. Mood. These babies are generally moody, with salient moods being fearful, sad, anxious, whiny and angry. Wilson could be laughing with you one second, only to shift into screaming, whiny, angry monkey at the drop of a hat. As an infant, he was predominantly in a horrible mood most of the time.
4. Predictability. Some babies are easy to predict. You know what they like and how to approach them (e.g., feeding, sleeping, etc.). Babies with difficult temperament are incredibly irregular. What works one day will not work the next. Mike and I would be so excited when Wilson would have a great night's sleep, wrongly thinking it was something we did. We fed him more, the bath-book-bottle-bed routine finally worked, we gave him a baby massage that night, etc. You grasp at straws trying to figure out what you did that worked so that you can repeat it to produce the same results the next night. And you clone your actions in a hopeful effort to reproduce the desired behavior in your baby. But, here is the horrible reality of a difficult infant: what you do matters, but not in the way you want. There is no predicting what will work and when. You just have to be responsive, hopeful, let them lead and try not to go insane.
5. Sleeping. Difficult tempered infants need constant emotional regulation and are often over-aroused. Because of this it is often difficult for them to put themselves back to sleep or to go to sleep in the first place. Wilson has slept exactly 2 nights through the night in over a year. He slept exactly 1 hour at a time for 2 1/2 months, never sleeps very deeply (wakes up with small noises, NEVER was "milk-drunk") and needs consistent sleep support even at almost 13 months. Sleep training failed miserably and progress usually takes months at a time.
6. Eating. Wilson eats an amazing amount. He eats almost every 2 hours, eating 3 meals a day, 2 snacks, plus about a half a gallon of formula/breastmilk from 9 months to his current age at almost 13 months.  

So if you find yourself with one of these little babies, is it all bad news? I can tell you, from experience, it is not. Wilson's smile melts us. With every day that passes, he gets better and happier. He is painfully smart (it is painful to us at least), requiring that we childproof EVERYTHING, figures things out easily and loves the challenge of obstacles and devices that he can figure out. He is so loving and kind, easily shares and loves to give hugs and share giggles. He is very tactile, hugging any soft toy and fluffy blanket with great abandon. Once he gets help regulating, he can be independent for long periods of time - coming back for help resetting when he feels upset. His love for life and new things is contagious. He has the best sense of humor, giggling at our silly faces and using items in a creative way (putting a cup on his head or ours).

We have had to change our behavior significantly, practicing self-care, being more responsive/respectful, proactive, consistent and understanding our own limits. We taught him to take breaths to calm down, followed his lead in terms for his readiness for a big change, called for the other parent to come rescue us when we felt we were losing it, been consistent with our rewards/boundaries, picking our battles (playing with some things in the refrigerator may be ok, whereas pulling hair is never ok) and reminding ourselves that he is not trying to be manipulative when he needs help. At 3 a.m. when he is having issues going back to sleep, requiring extra jiggling, drinking his bottle, patting his back or a snuggle, in my head I imagine him saying, "Mommy, I'm not ready yet - I don't feel good." This helps me a lot since his epic screaming and whining could easily lead to frustration and anger. Mike and I have found that we also need constant encouragement with each other. For example, Wilson recently went from horrible napping and getting up 5 times a night to suddenly (over the course of a month) a 2 to 3 hour nap in the day and only getting up once a night. He started being happier during the day, asking for us to read to him and using his signs and words to communicate. We were so excited, thinking that the worst was behind us. Then the next day, he fights going down for a nap, is miserable the whole day, gets up three times at night and/or stays up for hours at a time. We often feel like we have made one step forward, followed by two steps back. 

So, if you are a parent of a "high needs" baby, what can you look forward to? Here's the awesome news. If you are responsive, by age 3, these children are almost indistinguishable from easy children, by first grade they are the favorite students of teachers (even more so than easy tempered children), they love deeply, care about their world and are conscious of others' feelings. As adolescents, they are responsible, open and honest with their parents. The key is being responsive, working to become securely attached and conscious of what messages you are teaching your child with your own behavior. It is also the only temperament that is heavily influenced by early parental behavior (outside of abuse and trauma); what you do truly matters. 

As much stress as we feel parenting a difficult child, he makes our lives worthwhile and demands that we are better people ourselves. Even though we get stressed, I think of what would happen to Wilson if he was born to someone else with less patience, less education/knowledge or less tolerance for his temperament. Would he grow up feeling mistrustful, isolated, anxious, guilty for needing help? It makes me happy to see our effort pay off - he is more independent each day, exploratory, confidant, loving, kind and (mostly!) gentle.

I do believe he came to me for a reason and I take being his guardian a privilege, as he has made me a better person in one short year. The Dalai Lama (XIV) said "Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it." What have we had to give up in order to be the best parents possible for Wilson? We have had to give up selfishness, impatience, judgment, frivolousness, egoism, apathy and our own control issues. These are things that Mike and I would have taken years of therapy and/or years of struggle to achieve. Yes, this child and the quick changes that he has required of us have been difficult, but I would not trade him, or this experience, for anything, even the easiest child in the world.

Happy Birthday, Wilson!

Dear Wilson,

So, you are a year old! And what a year it has been! Last year at this time, mommy’s widwife was threatening a c-section and mommy said, “I can do this!” She rolled on her side, focused and relaxed and opened up the last 3 cm in 20 minutes.  After pushing for 5 hours (even daddy was sweating!), you came rushing out, finally ready to meet the world. Even though mommy was so worried about your birth, she should have been thinking about what happened after, because that was just as hard! This year has been a challenge for all of us and we’ve taken many missteps, but as individuals and as a family, we’ve learned a lot.

When we first met you, we knew you were a different kind of baby. You had such serious eyes and were so alert for a newborn. You would spend hours just looking out the window by your bassinet, looking at us, as well as your doggy siblings. Lainey became your buddy and lay by you day and night.  You only slept 1 hour at a time for 2 months and were never what your pediatrician called “milk-drunk”. You were so wide-awake that it was hard for you to sleep at all! When you hit 2 months, however, your temperament kicked in and we got to see the groundwork of your future personality.

You were very sensitive to a lot of things and it was hard because you were growing too quickly for a baby your age and getting way too many teeth! You wanted to be held just the right way; you loved being vigorously jiggled and patted; and you were very alert to changes in your environment. Your sensitivity bloomed into something beautiful this year. You feel everything very deeply: happiness, sadness, joy, pain, glee and contentment. Even though sometimes it was and is still painful, we see you giggling more, chuckling to yourself when playing alone sometimes, playing games and pranks on mommy and daddy, dancing to your favorite music and watching some of your favorite television shows (you are quite partial to Jake and the Neverland Pirates) on your boppy pillow with your bottle and blanket. We do not ever want you to stop feeling so deeply and passionately, Wilson. Even though the lows can be painful, it is worth it to experience the happiness that life has to offer you.

You have also worked hard to be able to regulate your emotions, eating and sleeping. Because you have what is called a “difficult” temperament (Mommy blames your father for that one), it is hard to understand when to start and stop things and how to feel. You also had to face a lot of pain this first year (learning to deal with constant growth spurts and teething pain), which was hard. Mommy and Daddy did our best to try to teach you how to slow down, take breaths (and you are even starting to do them!), try to understand what was happening and support you the best we could. We also tried to teach you boundaries and what was unacceptable. I think you may have broken the record for the youngest baby to throw a temper tantrum! You screamed at one of your toys when it would not do what you wanted when you were only 3 months old. And you had full-blown temper break-downs at 10 months. Mommy and Daddy did our best to teach you what was “not for you” what was unacceptable communication for distress (hitting, throwing things and smacking your head on various objects…) and how to deal with not always getting what you want. Something that everyone, even as adults, is still learning. You are doing pretty good with this now, not crying for as long, finding a new toy on your own and bouncing back much quicker than you did before. You love eating and do eat a lot – 3 meals a day, 2 snacks and half a gallon of formula/breast milk a day!! You certainly aren’t picky though! We are still trying to get sleep figured out, but you went from sleeping with mommy and waking up 5 times a night for about 8 months to sleeping in your crib and only waking up 1 to 2 times a night without any transition at all. You just told us it was time and we listened. We learned very quickly that you communicate your needs very well and it is important that we listen carefully because when you are ready for the next step, you go flying into it!

We also learned that you really needed us a lot. Maybe because it was hard to regulate or understand the world or even because you were in a lot of pain, you liked to be strapped to our chests or held in our arms for a very long time. This grew to be a wonderful affection and love for others that I see in you every day. You will be playing by yourself and come running over to hug our leg or be picked up so you can give us a kiss. You love your fuzzy blankets and stuffed animals and hug and love them lots too. You try to give Lainey kisses, something, which we frown upon, but happens anyway. We always want you to know that we love you and love that you need us. We know it will be all too soon that you will be a teenager and it won’t be as cool to hug your mom and dad or to snuggle with them before you go to bed. But, we will always love you, hug and tell you how beautiful it is that you are loving, caring and affectionate. And we won’t tell your friends if you still do ask for us to tuck you in before bed.

We also noticed that you are a little researcher. You pick up and investigate new things by making your researcher face, looking it all over, shaking it, tasting it, investigating every inch of the new item. You crave the novel and like to move things around so that they are in new places just to create something interesting. We’re pretty sure you get this from mommy. You are physically gifted, having great spatial awareness, moving quickly and at young ages. We’re absolutely positive you got this from daddy. You will be too when you get older and see mommy try to throw a ball. You are funny – you like to put things where they do not belong and giggle about it. You love to hang upside down, chase the dogs, push things across the floor and giggle infectiously to grandma and grandpa on Skype. You love doors, electronics, t.v. remotes (we have dedicated one to you that has no batteries, much to your chagrin), balloons, cars, fuzzy animals, trains, monkeys and dogs. These seem to amuse you, although we always wonder what you are really thinking. You have learned to talk quickly too – so far you say mom-mom, dada (which you whisper), dog-dog, ca (for cat), ama (grandma), aapa (grandpa), all da (all done), mo (more), na na na (no), yah (yep), hi, baba (bottle). You also use signs for all done, more and help.

It’s not just you that has changed this year. Daddy and mommy have changed quite a bit too. Even though Daddy was very afraid that he would not be a good Daddy, Mommy sees how amazing he is every day. He babywears you, takes you for walks, feeds you, plays with you, hugs you, changes you, makes fun play areas for you and painstakingly tries to make our house baby-safe. Although mommy has a sneaking suspicion that if he could wrap the floors and walls with pads, he probably would. Before you were born, Daddy told Mommy that he did not know if he could love anything as much as he loved Mommy. And then when you were born, he loved you the moment you came out and realized that he has two sunshines in his life now. Although he gets frustrated sometimes because he wants to do everything right for you, you have brought him a level of happiness and desire for life that he never thought possible.

Mommy changed too. Mommy learned that you can function on minimal broken sleep for months, that pumping breastmilk requires persistence and just like in other parts of her life, obstacles put in her path don’t keep her down for long. Mommy is definitely not your traditional mommy; she doesn’t worry about you falling or hurting yourself, but she does love to snuggle you and reassure you. Mommy learned how to be a whole person again this year: a mommy, a wife, a teacher, a researcher, a shaman, a social advocate, a friend (although that’s been hard to do this year, just ask her friends!), a counselor and a pet partner (animal-assisted therapy). You taught mommy to take things slow, to not take things for granted, to be in the moment, to time manage, to laugh at the little things, to take time for herself, to never back down from a challenge and to be authentic to who you are…always.

We have a lot more to learn and we look forward to all that we have yet to teach each other. We are blessed to be your guardians and to travel with you to show you this quirky thing called life. Thank you for making us realize what really matters in life again.

We have and will always love you,

Mommy and Daddy

p.s. Although tomorrow at your party you will get your birthday gifts, your gift to us was your first night of uninterrupted sleep (6:30 p.m. to 5:00 a.m. – and you even went back to bed for an hour and a half after drinking a bottle). Thanks for that and please feel free to sleep like that again.

I get it.

So, it's been awhile since my last post. In addition to being Wilson's primary caregiver and night slave, I am teaching two summer courses (12 hours a week in the classroom), conducting two major research studies/presenting and publishing, serving on over 20 committees, running workshops for Baby Signs, taking 2 online courses to finish my requirements for licensure as an LPC and, with my husband's infinite assistance, trying to keep my house in order and pets alive. So for two weeks, when I found that all of my deadlines happened to fall in the same month, I asked Susi, who helps me with Wilson once a week and who has lovingly taken on the role of Abuela, to work 4 days a week for 2 weeks straight.

I am now about to admit something that I believe most mothers feel is incredibly taboo and rarely, if ever, talk about openly. I loved every second of those two weeks. I got up in the morning, kissed and played with Wilson, went back to sleep for a few hours, went to work, came home, put Wilson to bed and tended to him during the night (which, at the time, meant 5 to 6 awakenings during the night and just as many feedings. The thing I enjoyed, and that I had sorely missed, was the fulfillment of my work. I finished the web platforms for all of my summer classes and fall classes. I developed a new online course and found myself back in the classroom for a significant number of hours each week, interacting with students, grading a significant amount as well (my students will vouch that I pull no punches during the summer - they have just as much reading and assignments due in a shorter amount of time). I finished the program evaluation on Mutt-i-grees Social and Emotional Skills Curriculum and read all the comments about what a huge impact it is making on teachers and students. I pulled materials together for an award a student is nominating me for (teaching award) and got to read the letters where students talked about how much my teaching has made a difference in their life, personally and professionally. It felt like my identity was finally coming back and it felt so great. 

On Monday of this week it was back to my typical primary caregiver role and I couldn't help but find myself disappointed, tired...and horribly guilty. As a mom, isn't it fulfilling enough to be a good mother? When you are away from them, aren't you supposed to be missing their every little coo and cry? At the conference I presented at today, a mother was telling me about her experience with her colicky, difficult daughter when she was a baby over twenty years ago. She talked about going to a park and meeting up with a wonderful stay at home mom who regaled the awesomeness of being a mother and loving every minute. This mother said, "What? Are you kidding? I can't wait to go back to work!!" And that is what I believe, most of us mothers truly feel, but are too scared or guilty to admit.

Being a stay-at-home mom sucks. You are a slave, all day long, to your children, your house, your working partner (my husband is a good exception to this and truly a superdad and superhusband who helps in any way he can), and, if you have them, your pets. As a stay at home mom, you don't get paid and you really don't get the recognition of how amazing it is that you keep your children alive, entertained, loved and don't go postal from watching too much Disney Jr. (If I get one more of those stupid jingles stuck in my head!!), answering incessant questions and chasing little people around all day. It never occurred to me to thank my mother for keeping me alive as a baby and toddler. I didn't realize how much work that takes when every second your child is trying to open up drawers with knives, smack their head on the floor after trying to run too fast, throw themselves down stairs, or climb up the stairs and inevitably fall to their doom. Now, I get it. Thanks, mom.

When I was pregnant, I didn't think the day would come that I would gladly leave Wilson with a sitter. Since I had fertility issues, I thought that having him would be all the fulfillment I need. But, many women need fulfillment outside of their role as a parent, as do most fathers. Stay at home moms sacrifice the part of their identities linked to fulfillment outside of the house; gaining respect as a professional; getting positive evaluations and raises; interacting with fully verbal adults all day; seeing your work pay off immediately. In addition, stay at home moms have to put up with people saying, "Why are you tired? You don't work!"When in reality, we pay child care providers a CRAPLOAD of money to do what we don't when we are at work; so much so that it really barely pays to work! Watching kids all day is challenging. It's hard. It's exhausting. I sincerely get it.

I also understand why we, as mothers, feel like we can't say this out loud. The morning I woke up with Wilson and only had about 4 hours of sleep to make it through the day, with him feeling ornery and uncooperative, with no help coming to relieve me for more sleep, I almost cried. And then I almost cried because I had almost cried. Does that make me a bad mother for not always wanting to be with my high-needs son? I love him; his giggles and hugs melt me. His little sloppy kisses and cries for "ma-ma" always make my day. I love watching him grow, see the things he discovers about his world and see what an amazing little boy he is becoming. I am grateful every day that I was able to have him and be blessed with his presence in my life.

But, here comes the horrible mother taboo number one: That is not enough for me to feel happy and fulfilled in my life. It is part of it; a big part, but being a psychologist and counselor, a professor, a researcher, a mentor, a writer, a wife, a dog-caretaker (I'm not going to lie; Mike is totally the cat-caretaker), a friend, a shaman is also part of it. I wondered how many other working mothers feel the same way and I was shocked; almost all of them said, when I asked, in hushed whispers, "Oh my god; I am so happy for my daycare/nanny/babysitter. I love my child, but I would die if I had to take care of them full time." And, again, I get it. Taking care of children is so freaking hard. I give mad props to all stay at home moms. You deserve multiple medals, awards of honor/recognition and a giant hand that face-slaps someone every time they say "But, you don't work..."

And working moms, I'm breaking the taboo for you. My job carries value and I love it. I enjoy it. And sometimes, going to work feels like a bigger break than going home. Don't feel guilty; I get it. I do recognize that my role as a professional and a parent have to be balanced. I do not want Wilson to ever feel that working is more important than he is to me. He is an amazing little being who has brought so much to my life and to my identity. I would die for him in a second. Mike and I are better people for having him in our lives. And I would be devastated if anything ever happened to Wilson; I can't even type that without wanting to sob. 

My parents taught me about the importance of a work ethic, of finding a job that fulfills you and gives back to others. A profession where I can provide for my family, find my strength as a woman and provider, be independent and rely on myself. I want to teach Wilson the same thing; that he can have a partner, a family, a home and a fulfilling profession, if that is what he wants. And he doesn't need to feel guilty for loving all of those things.

Judge McJudgie

Just a brief thought/post for today. I was thinking about what is one of the biggest things in my life to change from becoming a mother thus far - besides the whole lack of sleep thing. And even though I would have considered myself a pretty non-judgmental person before, I truly and sincerely have little judgment of anyone for anything anymore. I remember one of the mothers at my blessingway saying something to this effect: that you realize that in order to survive 'you gotta do what you gotta do'.

There are certainly many things I have already done that I never would have figured I would do. Ranging from letting Wilson watch television already (so that I could feed myself) to taking co-sleep naps with my son (I seriously have become that person!) to sleeping next to him while he plays in his jumperoo (seriously sad) to having a parent award moment at a local restaurant when Mike and I sat him in a high chair and didn't put the little divider between his legs, so he essentially almost slid out onto the floor. It's so easy to look at someone and think - what the heck are you doing? Pull it together, woman! But, as a parent, there are so many demands on you: limited sleep, energy, finances, sanity... Especially in this first year AND with a child with a difficult or active temperament, life becomes about survival.

So, I'm hanging on to sanity, loving my child and my husband, laughing at the good moments - and the crazy ones too, surviving through the tough ones and thanking the universe for the friends and family that have been helping us navigate this huge life change. And I'm thankful that next time I see a child screaming in the store and the mom hands him a candy bar, I won't be judging her; I'll be thinking, "You gotta do what you gotta do." Stay sane, sister.

Breastfeeding, Part...Whatever.

So, it's been awhile since I last wrote about the beauty (ha!) of breastfeeding. If you haven't read my other posts on the topic, you can do so here, here, and here. If you don't feel like reading it, let me give you the short version: Wilson doesn't latch, my best friend is my breast pump, nothing worked out as I hoped/planned, this image below is what I have sought to attain and have learned that, at least in our case, it's stupid, evil lies. Well, since that sounds a little harsh, let me explain.

So, the picture above of the peaceful, calm mom lovingly and easily breastfeeding her baby not only didn't turn out that way for us (or lots of other moms I know), it sort of makes me want to punch her. Not for successfully breastfeeding her baby, but for selling me the dream, since my experience hasn't been even close. To recap, here has been my experience with the beautiful experience of breastfeeding:

1. Wilson latching easily right after he was born, but only for a few seconds.
2. Wilson not latching at all for 2 days. That didn't stop several nurses from grabbing my boob and his head and feverishly trying to smash them together like they were velcro. Surprise: didn't work!
3. Wilson refusing to latch and screaming at my boobs when he saw them like they were going to eat him. Second surprise: The nurses traumatized my son trying to breastfeed so much that he was now afraid of boobs. Awesome!
4. I pumped with minimal luck. I tried to hand-express and even allowed my doula to attempt it (awkward, but I was desperate). Nothing. Tears follow.
5. Surprise! Milk came in! PAIN ensues. Pump flanges wrong size. Cried hysterically until Mike ran to get the correct size flanges and then I pumped for "reals yo". A LOT of milk, but not enough to meet my son's voracious appetite.
6. In order to get my production up, I pumped every 2 hours around the clock. Thank goodness for my mother who came to help with my high-needs baby-cakes. Got lots of milk and built up a freezer milk horde of which I was intensely proud. Went down to pumping 3 times a day. Liveable.
7. I wish I could draw to really give you an idea of how "beautiful" our breastfeeding sessions/attempts looked like. But I can't draw a stick figure, so you'll just have to picture this instead: a sleep deprived, barely showered, half-alert woman trying to focus her own calm and relaxation so as to encourage her son to breastfeed. He, looks suspicious and uninterested, sometimes latching - only to make a disgusted face and stop. Other times, he pokes his nose at my nipple and slaps my boob. Awesome. Good thing my self-esteem is not tied up in the success of breastfeeding...
8. Then I learned about nipple blood blisters and mastitis and the PAIN of pumping with clogged ducts and a breast infection. Now understand why I want to punch that picture above?

So, now you find me at 7 months into this and it's not gotten any more beautiful. What's happened since then you ask?

1. Wilson decided to go on a milk binge for his 4 month growth spurt and had 40 ounces of milk for 5 days (and still had an increased need for another 4 days). Do the math. Since I was only making 24 ounces a day, he made a huge dent in my beautiful freezer stash. At 6 months, he drank 56 ounces of milk for 4 days (and had an increased need for another 5 days). Freezer stash gone. I cried when I poured the last bag into his bottle. It was like saying goodbye to a friend knowing they will never return. Tears.
2. After your menstrual cycle returns, you suddenly PLUMMET in your supply. I went from pumping 24 ounces a day to 8 ounces a day. The need to supplement with formula was real and ego-crushing. Sobs.
3. I tried "power-pumping" to increase my supply. It's basically sitting attached to the pump for a few hours and for every 10 minutes of rest, you pump for 5 minutes. It does increase your supply, but it can also hurt and turn your nipple purple. So beautiful. 
4. I got mastitis again! Yay for me! I also found out what a milk blister was (different from a blood blister), as well as a sight I wish I could burn from my retinas of pumping blood instead of milk. Bet that is never on any pamphlets or pretty pictures from breastfeeding organizations! "Benefits to mother: lowers incidence of breast-cancer, self-esteem and ego! Increases bonding to your infant and bleeding out of your nipples." What a sell.
5. Wilson had a reaction to milk-based formula and is not great even on low-lactose formula so in addition to pumping still, we make our own goat-milk based formula. Yes, we are those people.
6. Our last attempt at breastfeeding started with Wilson making a face like the picture below (not kidding), while trying to pinch my nipple, scratch it and then bite it because he was teething. Needless to say, that was our last attempt at breastfeeding.   

But, am I ready to give up? No, I'm actually not. I'm not sure we will ever breastfeed (or even if I want to at this point), but I have seen how breastmilk has kept him healthy, healed his minor cuts and even helped his eczema. So, I'm going to keep pumping, even if I only get down to a few ounces a day, I think it's better than nothing. Maybe I just don't want to give up on the dream. I know it's attainable for some people. Maybe it's just not for Wilson and me. Maybe I'll have to have another baby to really truly experience the true and complete beauty of breastfeeding. Don't mention that comment to my husband; he may go on a permanent celibacy strike to protest...

Finding the bright side...

I just received a notice on my phone from Babies'r'us with an update to their facebook page, alerting me to the National Sleep Foundation findings regarding infant sleep. And I quote, "Infants typically sleep 9-12 hours during the night and take 30 minute to two-hour naps, one to four times a day – fewer as they reach age one." Let me speak for the parents with infants on the bottom of the sleep curve. SHUT IT. I don't want to hear about the beautiful sleep I shoulda/woulda/coulda had. 

I believe that whenever your baby doesn't meet the expectations of the norm or majority, you really feel like a failure. No matter how hard you try not to, you find yourself comparing yourself and your child to your peers and their children. It makes you uneasy, it gives you anxiety surrounding the future and it wrecks your self-esteem. And the worst part, is that when we fall short on these comparisons, we actually start to dislike the "others" or at the very least, you covet what they have: normality, ease and/or predictability. But, that's what we easily forget. There is no life that is "normal", easy or predictable. To think so is just an illusion; every person's life is difficult, albeit in different ways. Like a big, amazing house, the illusion of beauty makes you not see the large mortgage behind it. A rich person may seem happy, but, as research has found, there is actually a culture of emptiness and inner pain, depression and anxiety that is not easily seen from the outside for those in affluence. The bottom line: you really can't understand the difficulty in someone's life unless you walk in their shoes. So, the best thing we can do for ourselves is keep our eyes on our own lives, understand our challenges, but be thankful for what we have.

I understand our challenges as they are numerous, but I'm going to take a moment to be thankful for my current situation as I sometimes forget, especially when I'm sick, overwhelmed and, obviously, horribly sleep-deprived.

• I am thankful that I had amazing parents of my own who showed me what it means to be a loving and responsive parent.
• I am thankful that I met an amazing person who became my husband and father of my child. He's always thinking of how to be a better husband and father, even though he's already excellent at both.
• I am thankful that I have an amazing job that gives me the flexibility I need with my health condition and as a parent.
• I am thankful for my friends who are always there to listen when I am struggling and help out when they can. 
• I am thankful that Wilson is healthy.
• I am thankful that he is amazingly bright and alert, as well as quite communicative!
• I am thankful that he finds comfort by being connected to me (literally!).
• I am thankful that even though we have had minimal support, Mike and I are making it, in all the ways that count.
•  I am thankful that, as I just heard of another infant who lost his life tonight, that mine just interrupted this post for me to hold him closely and with all of the love I have in my heart.

And with that, I'm feeling very blessed.