On sleep: parenthood at nine weeks

The thing about sleep—for us, and I assume many parents will recognize this—is not that we get less of it. In fact, I'd say we sleep at least as many hours as we did before the babe. It's that that sleep is interrupted up to three times a night for periods from half an hour to three hours. I say this because so many people have said to us, "Oh, no more sleep for you!" or asked, "Are you sleeping?" Well, we are sleeping, but we are certainly not getting the kind of rest that uninterrupted sleep offers.

Danijela is taking it like a champ, but we're both going a bit loopy.

So sleep is our challenge at the moment—for us more than Oliver. He is thriving, as far as we can tell. He's sleeping more, eating well, interacting, growing, and developing. But we were spoiled by numerous nights of five- and six-hour stretches of unbroken sleep. We want those nights back! So, we're tweaking a couple of things that we let slide before.

First, the swaddle. Oliver would almost always wriggle his arms free from his swaddle in the night, which would invariably wake him up as he flailed them about. He'd always done this, but since he was sleeping so well, we didn't bother trying to stop it. Thankfully, there are lots of swaddle solutions, most of which look like baby straightjackets with velcro. Well, I guess they are baby straightjackets. On Tuesday, after Oliver's pediatrician appointment, we stopped at Marlene's Just Babies on Dupont at Clinton and settled on a SwaddleMe. We strapped him in that night and I think he slept almost five hours. Every night since he's done between four and five, so, improvement.

On the topic of swaddling, the Globe and Mail recently discussed the "controversy":

Several studies have linked swaddling to a higher risk of respiratory infections and, if done improperly, hip dysplasia. Swaddled babies may overheat, especially if their heads are partially covered, which can cause hyperthermia and even death. There is ongoing debate over whether swaddling prevents infants from waking easily, hinders weight gain or, most troubling, increases the chance of SIDS.

There’s also a fundamental question of whether the very function of swaddling—keeping the movements of infants restricted in order to soothe—is good for babies, or is just good for parents.

One pediatric physiotherapist in Toronto says, "Really, [parents] shouldn’t be doing this. [Swaddling] is really not that beneficial." This despite the fact that the article notes "not enough quality research into swaddling has been done."

I suppose it wasn't the intent, but I find this type of comment pointlessly antagonistic, especially from a medical professional. How am I supposed to feel as a parent who swaddles his baby when I read something like that? However, I'm sure there are people on both sides of the issue who will make confident statements based on limited information.

Had we more information about calming and sleeping baby early on, we might have swaddled Oliver less, but nobody ever recommended we not do it. In fact, most of our caregivers said it would be beneficial, and it has been, as far as we can tell. Anyway, we don't cover Oliver's head, we don't wrap his hips or legs tightly, he has no trouble waking, he's definitely finding his mouth with his hands, and he has grown very well.

Second, the white noise. We've been using rain sounds for maybe six weeks now—all night and fairly loud—to improve Oliver's sleep. I'm getting sick of it—I miss blessed silence!—but I can block out the noise fairly easily. We had set up portable speakers on our window ledge connected to an ipod on repeat, but the noise mostly passed over the bassinet, and no matter how loud we set the volume, it was actually quite quiet in the cradle. Again, we knew about this, but didn't really see the need to do anything about it. Not so now! We picked up a couple of smaller speakers and have secured them to the bassinet so there's no escaping the noise. They sound terrible, though, and they're not very loud, so I don't know. We'll just have to give them a try.

I do worry that using these things—"props" as they are commonly called—is instilling bad habits that we will eventually have to break, but I also think it's still too early to worry too much. We've just had a book recommended to us, The Sleep Sense Program, by Dana Obleman, which suggests that parents can't really train a baby to sleep until three months or so, but they can prime the child by implementing a sleep routine with bathing, singing, stories, and repeated cue phrases, like "night-night". We had started doing this a while ago, during the breastfeeding troubles, but never did it consistently. I think we'll try again asap, and I'll surely be talking more about sleep over the next while! Obleman also recommends eliminating props, including rocking, nursing, bouncing, and swinging to sleep—eep! Dr. Karp (of The Happiest Baby on the Block) suggests that it's the easiest thing in the world to wean a baby off of props, but I don't share his optimism!

For the moment, there are things we can't do much about, I think. If Oliver needs to have a bowel movement in the night, he will wake up (and us too, likely), and he will not go back to sleep until he's done, at which point, we might as well feed and change him. And some nights, he poos three times—come on baby; hold it in! We've been using disposable diapers at night in the hope that their extra absorbency will prevent him from getting uncomfortable, but I don't think it's making any difference, and I'd like to return to cloth at night.

And of course, if he's hungry in the night...

While we don't seem much better at controlling Oliver's sleep patterns, we are definitely better able to understand when he's sleepy and getting him to sleep. He makes a very distinctive sound of varying intensities when he's getting tired. I think Danijela described it like a cat in heat. That would be in the "quite tired" range. It sounds like a short or slightly extended "Ow" (or "Owh" in the Dunstan baby language), and it's become clearer in the past week. So he makes it much clearer when he's tired and at those times it's much easier to rock or bounce him to sleep.

He's getting more tired in the evenings, too, and we're debating putting him down earlier, but we want to be sure that we're in bed when he has his long stretch, and we're not quite ready to sleep at eight! We'll see though. Now, in the mornings he often wakes up around seven-thirty or eight, for comfort or a change (or if Danijela is sufficiently awake, a feed), and then goes back to sleep until ten or so. Usually, I get up with him and stay up. Maybe if he went to bed earlier, he—and we—could have a couple of good long stretches of sleep. Who knows!

In other sleep-related news, it won't be long before Oliver is too big for his bassinet—maybe six weeks; I doubt more than eight. Danijela dreads this time because he'll have to sleep in his crib in his nursery upstairs from our bedroom. I guess I should dread it for the same reason, as I'm the diaper man. It's possible that we'll move the crib downstairs temporarily, but we'll just see how it goes. Ideally, by that time, he'll sleep through the night! Then it simply wouldn't be an issue. Ah, a new parent can dream.

Notes

Not only do babies not blink, they do not ever close their eyes voluntarily. The only times they close their eyes are to sneeze, to sleep, and when triggered by some other reflex. I'm not kidding. It's weird.
We almost always have to induce sleep eye-closing. But then, there is little Oliver does that is voluntary. In fact, at this stage, while he's certainly gaining increasing control over his limbs and movements, I'd say pretty much all of his actions are responses to internal or external stimuli.

Photos simply do not do justice to this little one. They flatten out his features and make his face much more round. His features are far more refined.

I know I promised to follow up on recent events and milestones, but You'll have to wait to hear about Oliver's first fashion show, I'm afraid. However, I will say that at his pediatrician appointment, the doctor weighed him at 5.52 kilograms (12 pounds, two ounces), so it seems he grew more than two pounds from six to eight weeks (including the spurt) or better than an ounce and a half a day!

Since I've abandoned Facebook and Twitter for the time being, if you want to leave me a comment or ask a question, please do so here, rather than there. However, I am still collecting Facebook private messages.

More later! Read on..!

Ups and downs in babytown: eight weeks of parenthood

So, wow: two weeks.

I want to thank everyone who has offered help and advice, given us clothes and other baby stuff, and brought us food and cheer over the past eight-plus weeks. We appreciate everything, even when we haven't been able to use it! We are both feeling much better about this parenting business, and Oliver is growing and developing as well as we could ask.

Now the news!

When I started this post two weeks ago, I wrote that since things had gotten better, we were probably in for a big change any day, which would shake our newfound confidence... At that time, breastfeeding had improved dramatically—Oliver feeds faster and gets fuller—and I suppose he had settled into a loose pattern of sleep—up to six hours at a stretch—that was allowing us to feel moderately rested. Then, at about seven weeks, the change came. Oliver's appetite increased and his sleep declined. For the next week, our panic climbed near previous heights: a week-long growth spurt, and boy did he grow. We're still feeling the effects, and things certainly aren't back to where we'd like!

But let me step back in time.

The past two weeks were full of appointments, visits, events (both fun and responsible), and continuing developments. The thing is, while Oliver doesn't seem too far from where he was two weeks ago, I feel like I can hardly remember what it was like then.

In week seven, he had his final visits at the Better Breastfeeding Clinic, the midwives, and the osteopath, and all were satisfied with his progress. He weighed 4.92 kilos (~ten pounds, thirteen ounces) that Tuesday, and 4.96 kilos (ten and fifteen) by Thursday. The midwife also measured him at about fifty-seven centimetres.

A pediatrician at the breastfeeding clinic thought he heard a slight murmur, and recommended we mention it to Oliver's permanent doctor when we saw her. However, he told us not to worry, which was hard to avoid.

The osteopath showed us some more positions to release gas, and endorsed Dr. Karp's use of soothers, so that was reassuring. She also recommended Danijela have craniosacral treatments. If she does, it will be interesting to see the results.

Then we had an informal baby choking and CPR lesson with our friends Juli and John, who are especially concerned since their daughter is starting to eat solid foods. There's a worry we have to look forward to in a few months.

On the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend, Danijela worked her third wedding since Oliver was born, this one the longest at eleven hours. My mum came by to help out again, and Oliver was fine except by the end of the night he had taken all the milk we had collected, and I was worried that he'd want more before bed. Luckily he didn't, although he fed soon after Danijela got home. Somehow, I also managed to make chutney and pickles that day.

Our friends Jen and Mike had invited us for Thanksgiving dinner the next day in Hamilton, and with the lure of a bacon-wrapped turkey—as well as a social visit, of course!—we were keen to go. And we managed it, even though Danijela was exhausted from her long day. It was well worth it though. I hate to miss a Michael Kennedy feast, and this one was no exception. Plus, we got to see Marco and Melissa and their two-week-old daughter. We didn't want to reflect on our own experience of Oliver at two weeks! But it was a treat to see another family so new, and it was a reminder that things move so quickly. We also passed on a bag full of Oliver's clothes, some of which he didn't even get to wear. That night in Hamilton, Oliver slept for six and a half hours straight. Life was good.

The next day we gathered our energy to drive back to Toronto for a nice big family Thanksgiving at my folks' house, with Anne and Robert, Danijela's parents, and Snjezana and Carlos. We filled ourselves up again, and stocked up on leftovers, looking forward to the next weekend, when we'd head back to Hamilton for Danijela's family slava dinner. But this was the week...

We assume that it was all a growth spurt that has been causing Oliver to wake more frequently, but there are probably other factors. The less sleep we get, the more stress we feel, and I'm certain that affects Oliver's state. And now that Danijela has brought her computer home from her studio to work, things feel a bit less loose than before. Also, he seemed to be napping more during the days, and even had a couple of unprecedented three-hour early evening sleeps. Maybe that was keeping him from sleeping at length. I don't know. Of course, those extended daytime sleeps are making it easier for Danijela to actually get work done at home, and should allow me to cook us up some dinners.

We managed to get to High Park for a couple of walks to see the colours, although there wasn't much change yet, and we tried to get dinner at the new Hey Meatball! restaurant (simply, "Hey!") on Roncesvalles, but one night it closed early and the other we learned that their dinner menu doesn't include meatballs—how disappointing! (It's also fairly pricey for what looks like pretty basic fare.) I think we both managed to fight off burgeoning colds, too, despite our advancing exhaustion.

Meanwhile, I worried about frost and having the time to pull down all my tomato plants. I managed to get them out mid-week and make (and then burn) another batch of chutney. Still waiting to make more pickles and plant my garlic though!

Somewhere along the way, we learned that Jane and TJ and Raven were coming to town—yay!—for a whirlwind weekend visit so TJ could participate in The Shows, a Toronto Fashion Week event showcasing ex-pat Canadian designers. Of course, we already had a full weekend ahead, and we were worried we might not even see them—at least until the show on Tuesday, which we wouldn't miss if at all possible.

Saturday, friends Leslie and Andrew finally got hitched after sixteen years. We were excited about this for many reasons, the big one being that we were going out without Oliver—gasp! My parents brought Jane and Raven along to babysit, so we had a brief reunion while we rushed around getting ourselves ready. I had to instruct my mum in diaper-changing, bottle-warming, and to-bed-putting—well not really instructing, but you know, we have our ways of doing these things. It was too much a rush, especially when we see the London Gorleys so infrequently, but it can hardly be helped. We are lucky to see them as often as we do (in fact this year has been especially good to us). It was only in the spring they were in Toronto last, and nearly six-year-old Raven seems to have grown up quite a bit. I'm sure attending school is making a difference.

The wedding was lovely, the ceremony brief and charming. I find most ceremonies short after being at so many Serbian weddings! Sometimes I want them to go on a bit—to be a bit more ceremonious—but maybe not to the length Danijela's and mine did. It was a great pleasure to see many friends, although we left before dancing. Our babysitters were also getting tired.

Then back to Hamilton on Sunday! It never stops! Danijela's family's saint is St. Michael and their slava day always falls on or around Thanksgiving. Slava is always an important dinner, similar to Thanksgiving, but this year was especially important, due to the new addition to the family—Mile and Mara's first grandchild. Snjezana and Carlos were there of course, along with our friend Tijana and one small branch of Danijela's mum's family: her aunt, uncle, and cousin. Given the gravity of the occasion, Mile had also invited the family's priest—now retired—Otac Lazar, to sing and bless Oliver. It was fitting, as he married us and will probably christen Oliver, too. Mile had already opened (and the party—mainly he, Carlos, and Otac Lazar—had gone through) a third of a bottle of very good cognac reserved four years earlier just for the occasion of Oliver's birth. I caught up quickly before dinner. It was an important celebration after all.

Oliver was happy enough to be doted over by family, and we were happy to have someone else take care of him for a little while! That night, the Hamilton magic returned and he slept for six hours. Was the growth spurt over? Could we return to background panic? Could we sleep again? Would I once again avoid a hangover? Tune in next time to find out!

But seriously, I want to stop here, so I can think about other things for a minute. The boy will awake soon, and then, who knows!

Notes

Babies don't blink.
Read on..!

Parenthood: every day's a little the same, a little different

As we approach six weeks of parenthood, we are seeing more signs of Oliver's personhood. It is a tremendous pleasure to watch his face respond, his eyes follow, his lips curl into a smile, and it's nice to think that we are a part of that progress. He is happy, as far as I can tell, and we're happy, too, especially when he's calm!

What else is Oliver doing? He's paying much closer attention to things around him than before, and I think he's starting to see beyond his immediate surroundings. He's holding his head up very well—"almost too well", according to one source! (I'll return to that later.) He's much happier to lie by himself for periods, looking at whatever we place nearby, which allows us to do things like use the bathroom or make tea. He seems to be gaining control over his limbs; he still flails about, but he also makes clearly coordinated motions, like stretching both arms at once. He sometimes turns his head towards familiar voices. He definitely follows faces with his eyes. He's starting to get his hands in his mouth more consistently.

God, it fills my heart to look at this magical creature, this helpless little human who holds all the power in the world.

In occasional spare moments, I think of what it means to be a parent. There is so much advice, much of it conflicting, and it is difficult to imagine how a person can feel at all confident in the early days of parenthood. I think the general goal of parenting is to raise a child who can navigate the ways of life independently yet in cooperation with others. Specifically however, that means teaching not just about the timeless ways of people and relationships, but also the contemporary ways and relations of society today: what it means to live now. I suppose a strong education in the former will generally improve the chances of understanding the latter. But these are thoughts for another day.

We are still dealing with the immediate concerns of improving Oliver's latch and, thereby, our ability to cope. To that end, on the recommendation of our lactation consultant, Lynda, we took Oliver on Friday to see an osteopath for craniosacral therapy. Lynda suggested that due to the long labour and efforts of birth, Oliver might have a tight jaw, which prevents him from opening his mouth wide enough to patch properly. It seemed plausible enough, especially since nothing else was working. We were certainly willing to give it a shot—at least as long as my insurance covered it!

Somehow we made it out to the Footprints clinic in Fairview for ten o'clock, and the therapist, Tema Stein, was very friendly and helpful and told us everything she was doing, and she was quite good at reading Oliver. The treatment involves very light pressure at various points on the head. She seemed to release his jaw somewhat and open up his latch, but as with everything we've tried, it has been difficult in the ensuing days. Still, it was the most promising thing we've seen, I think. We have another appointment next week, and we have high hopes.

It was Tema who said that Oliver is holding his head up almost too well. She suggested that some tension throughout his body is lifting his diaphragms, keeping his back and neck excessively straight, preventing him from arching his back (i.e., relaxing), and perhaps contributing to his difficulty latching. The jaw and back tension are related, so the treatment should improve both. Oliver was definitely more relaxed than usual for the rest of Friday.

Tema also mentioned the Dunstan baby language, and showed us how Oliver was saying he needed to burp. We had looked at (and attempted to use) the Dunstan method when Oliver was about two weeks old, but then promptly forgot about it in our early desperation. According to Priscilla Dunstan, babies use five universal sounds to communicate hunger, gas (upper and lower), discomfort, and sleepiness. The sounds aren't language per se, but rather vocal expressions of bodily states. It's pretty remarkable, but requires the parent to listen calmly and carefully, even when the baby seems to be in distress. We weren't really ready for that at two weeks!

Notes

My knees hurt from the bouncing.

I don't know how I missed this before, but last week I noticed (and marvelled at) the power of the sun to bleach stained diapers. I was stunned when I started pulling the diapers off the clothesline, no doubt in part because as I was hanging them, I thought to myself just how bad they looked and wondered what I would do to whiten them.

If anyone cares to know, I spend about an hour every two or three days cleaning diapers. Usually, I have to handwash the diaper covers every other day. (But only because I'm too cheap to buy more!)

Wow, I was tired last week. I think I caught a bug, but managed to beat it before it took hold. I don't care what studies say, I find Cold FX almost always works to prevent illness. Read on..!

Parenthood: five weeks (and a day)

After a busy week, a busy weekend, and then a return to something like normal. Plus: smiles!

On Saturday, our friends Ben and Annick, who eloped the day Oliver was born, visited and were lucky enough to actually see (and hold) the boy. That is, he wasn't sleeping in confinement, which is often the case when people visit. It is terrific to see friends again and laugh and catch up a bit. We need it! Danijela and I have both felt fairly isolated since the birth, trying to get used to the new normal and avoiding most external interruptions to the anti-routine. I at least have got out to pick up groceries and other necessities. We have gone out for walks and had the occasional visitor, but not much, and the end of summer is an especially bad time to be stuck inside. Anyway, Ben and Annick brought some remnants of that summer sunshine, and I hope Oliver passed one some of his own light.

Danijela's parents followed (overlapped, really) for a brief visit before taking in some Toronto culture. They would return the next day to celebrate Danijela's mum's birthday.

Oliver was still having trouble latching, and his sleep that night was not what we are used to, but he was fine the next day. It's Danijela and I who are most bothered by the interruptions!

On Sunday, Danijela had the first of a series of mothering classes, recommended by our doula, so she would be away mid-afternoon for a few hours. Our friend and slightly less-recent mother Keira is taking the course with Danijela, so we arranged that her husband Joe and their daughter Evelyn would come to ours for the afternoon and have a daddy daycare. We all had lunch together—well, I bounced with Oliver while everyone else ate, then I ate—and Danijela and Keira took the TTC downtown. I'm pretty excited for Danijela. I think she could use the activity and the company and some different perspective that it's not easy to get from close friends or family.

Meanwhile, Joe and I tried to talk dad stuff without being interrupted, but we were unknowingly in the middle of a bit of an emergency: Oliver's swing was failing! It was acting erratically and wouldn't stay on, so I was having trouble getting Oliver to stay asleep, besides changing his diaper a bunch of times. Evelyn was fine—amazing actually—and gives me great hope for Oliver in a couple of months. She was wide-eyed, but entertained, not upset. She can sit up, sort of, and control her arms, sort of. She talks to herself and others, and puts things in her mouth. She responds to all kinds of cues. She wanted to be near her daddy, of course, but she could sit or lie by herself for periods without Joe worrying about meltdowns! What a pleasure. She did have a tired meltdown later on in the afternoon, but she is still a baby after all. Oliver was fine but for the fact that I couldn't put him down for any length of time, which is not unusual. I bottle-fed him in the mid-afternoon and he did sleep some, but mostly on my shoulder while we walked about the house. I did manage to throw one load of laundry in to wash, a surprisingly difficult task sometimes.

Then the moms returned and Danijela's parents, sister, and brother-in-law arrived. After Keira and Joe left, we passed Oliver around while the others ate dinner, and the men drank, we had cake, and finally Oliver slept, and everyone left. Alone again, with baby. One of these nights, we tried to watch This is Spinal Tap, but couldn't quite finish. We watch movies in two parts now. Sunday night was interrupted more often than usual, too, but Monday morning, I took Oliver upstairs and we hung out for a couple of hours while Danijela got much-(desperately-)needed sleep.

My big task for Monday was to diagnose the swing's condition and correct it, if possible. Danijela thought it was batteries. I was skeptical, since the people we bought it from said they replaced them only once over a couple of years, and we've only had it for less than a month. I suspected corrosion, which we had noticed when we first brought it home. I was just hopeful there was something we could do about it! I was right. There was moisture in the battery compartment, which we must have failed to eliminate when we first set the thing up. Some of the contacts had corroded, but remarkably not beyond repair. The setup is quite simple, too, and I could remove, clean, and replace some of the bits, even the battery contacts. Now it's back in working condition, and dry with the help of the hair dryer, although there is a bit of shock-absorbent sponge in there that doesn't seem to want to dry.

I finished up with the swing just in time to put Oliver to sleep in it, before our friends Finlay and Justyna dropped by with cheese, sausage, and fresh bread. This felt like more people in three days than we saw in a month. And despite not being able to show off Oliver, it was a pleasure to sit and chat with friends, even if there was light despair in our voices and fatigue in our eyes.

And somehow that night, I found time to bake a pumpkin pie with some frozen pie filling from last year, as well as round two of cherry tomato paste, with a few additional frozen tomatoes also from last year. However, I didn't know that the pie filling was the unseasoned and unsweetened type, so the finished pie was a bit of a bland surprise! In case this happens to you, though, all is not lost. You can mix up all the seasonings with the sugar and spread the mixture on top of the pie, and by the next day it will have soaked into the pumpkin—pie saved!

Since our new normal involves frequent trips to the breastfeeding clinic, that's what we did Tuesday (the day I started this post) for another follow-up. Despite nursing better over the past couple of days, Oliver showed no dramatic signs or intention of improving his latch, so the consultant suggested using a lactation aid to help fill him up. That means putting one end of a fine tube into a bottle of expressed milk and the other end in his mouth when he's nursing to increase the amount of milk he takes in and fill him up. It seems to work pretty well, but it is more labour-intensive than our previous efforts, involving both of us rather than just Danijela, and it doesn't take any less time than without! But it's a temporary measure while we attempt to increase Danijela's milk supply via herbs and a drug called domperidon. It all feels a little bit crazy, no doubt in part because of our new-parent state of mind. If I understand correctly, babies become much more efficient at breastfeeding as they grow, taking much less time and eating less often, but it's no surprise to me that many—most—mothers choose not to continue after a few weeks, since it sure can be a figurative and literal pain early on.

Anyway, things feel good. After the clinic, we drove downtown to pick some processed film for Danijela, grabbed lunch at Sense Appeal (cheap and delicious) where we ran into another friend, and walked to St. Andrew's Playground where we ate lunch in the warm September air. I had to amble around as I ate to keep Oliver asleep, and then amble some more as Danijela went for a quick shop. It was a treat to be out and about, to take in some of the city before the leaves and weather turn. Especially now as the city is on constant renewal. Too, I am used to travelling all around town and seeing what there is to see, although, not so much in the past year.

Well, now it's Wednesday, and I wanted to post this yesterday, and I'd love to take a nap, so I'll finish up.

Notes

In the five days from one appointment to the next, Oliver gained 170 grams (six ounces), and now weighs 4.68 kilos (ten pounds, five ounces), so still no worries about whether he's getting enough to eat.

Did I mention smiles? On the weekend, Oliver gave us his first big smiles, as well as lots of new (i.e., non-crying) talk. It really is a whole different thing now, and I'll gush about his beautiful newness when I'm more awake!

I don't think Danijela will agree, but I think Oliver is becoming somewhat predictable. Either we or he are settling into our roles and routines. Of course, I fully expect that to change completely now that I've said it.

More later! Read on..!

Parenthood: day thirty-two

Well well, we've had a fair amount of excitement since Oliver passed the four week mark, and I have alternated between being too busy and too lazy to document it all.

On Tuesday, we had a routine visit with the midwife, which was truly routine. She weighed him—nine pounds, fifteen ounces (4.51 kilos)—and answered some questions and then we were done. We said our goodbyes, since our final appointment in two weeks will be with our other midwife. The midwife care has been a great experience overall. They were very helpful and accommodating throughout the pregnancy, and they made several house visits in the first week after Oliver was born.

On the other hand, we've visited the Better Breastfeeding Clinic three times now, and the consultants we've seen there—one doctor and one nurse—have been a little surprised at what the midwives have omitted in their recent care. The clinicians have paid much more attention to his thrush and diaper rash, as well as a couple of other things that slip my mind at the moment, even though these things are not explicitly within their purview. But that's what doctors do, I think. They fuss a lot more about details. The important thing is that Oliver is healthy and has been healthy. And it was the midwife who recommended the breastfeeding clinic in the first place.

Regardless, I'm very happy that we had midwives, and we would certainly do so again.

So, on Wednesday, we had our first follow-up visit at the breastfeeding clinic. The doctor saw some improvement in Oliver's latch, but his feedings were still taking quite a long time and he was still doing a lot of fussing and causing Danijela pain, which was making things difficult for everyone.

While I've talked mostly about Oliver's sleeping and crying, it's feeding that has caused the most problems, and I think it is probably the main source of his other troubles. You might think that breastfeeding is the most natural thing in the world, since it's (well, was) fundamental to the survival of the human race, but it is not easy. In fact, it's probably the most difficult aspect of parenthood we've faced. A baby who doesn't latch properly will have trouble filling his stomach in a reasonable period of time. A baby who doesn't fill his stomach at a feeding will likely be cranky and not sleep properly, and it may be very difficult to determine the cause of the trouble. Indeed, it may be very difficult to determine the cause of a poor latch, let alone what to do about it. Not only that, improper latches can be painful for nursing mothers and make feedings excessively long. What a system, nature! We've experienced all of this with Oliver; hence our visits to the clinic, as well as another one at Toronto East General. Adding to the difficulty, Oliver is growing perfectly well and voiding regularly, so we have no reason to think that he's not getting enough milk.

I guess I only mentioned briefly our first visit to the clinic before. Well, at that meeting, the previous week, the doctor talked at us for an hour and a half and we left more confused than when we arrived. Despite the information overload, things did seem to improve afterward. The doctor offered more detail about the correct latch than we had previously, and some other reassurances. She also diagnosed his thrush; we already knew about the diaper rash.

Then she mentioned that Oliver might have a tongue tie, which neither Danijela nor I had heard of before, and suggested that releasing it might improve his latch. Surgery—yikes! A tongue tie occurs when the band of flesh anchoring the tongue to the bottom of the mouth (the frenulum) is too tight to allow free tongue movement. It's fairly common, which is a bit of an evolutionary mystery to me. Children generally grow out of it eventually, but it often interferes with breastfeeding. Releasing a tongue tie involves simply snipping the frenulum. There's little blood, and the baby goes straight to the breast afterward to eat, soothe, and heal. We weren't at all keen on the idea initially, but at our follow-up visit, we agreed that it would be a good idea at least to have the clinic's tongue-tie expert assess it and go from there. "Luckily", there was an appointment available the next day. It was all a bit of a rush and we are still hesitant to take him in the car, as he is unpredictable in his seat.

So, back we went on Thursday, to see another lactation consultant and the tongue-tie man. By this time, we'd already decided to go ahead with the tongue-tie release if the doctor recommended it. The risks are low, the potential benefits high, they could do the thing right there in the office, and the doc assured us he'd treated similar tongue ties many many times. We said yes—we are keen to try what we can to continue breastfeeding—and they did it. I had a brief moment of fear as they held Oliver down, opened his mouth, and inserted the scissors, but it was over before the fear set in (and before Danijela even realized), and there really was very little blood. He nursed immediately after, while the clinicians looked on and continued to fret over his latch.

Unfortunately, while the doctor was impressed with the release, the operation doesn't seem to have made any improvement yet. Indeed, Oliver seems to be having a little more difficulty latching since then, which one might expect with a completely different range of tongue motion. The lactation consultant has recommended craniosacral therapy for Oliver to relax his jaw and allow him to open his mouth wider, and we'll be trying that soon I guess—as long as the treatment is covered by my health insurance!

Let me leave it at that, and I'll probably forget to pick up the story between now and the next time. Read on..!

Parenthood: day twenty-seven

There is some triple-nap action happening in our house these days (Oliver, Danijela, Pippin), and it is making clear the limitations of our space. We have six and a half rooms (using Québec notation, and not including the cramped utility/tool room and laundry corridor). The nursery, where Oliver sleeps during the day, is off the kitchen and has a hollow door that might as well be a beaded curtain for all the sound it blocks. However, it is currently the darkest room in the house and will probably remain so. Our bedroom is in the basement, away from the general noise (but beside the laundry) but has no curtain, and Danijela doesn't like to nap there. So when it's nap time, which means at least Oliver is sleeping, possibly Danijela, and almost definitely the cat, we or I must be very, very quiet. You might not think that a problem, but I'm used to spending a fair amount of time in the kitchen, and it drastically limits what we can do during these periods. It's not like I've got a lot of time to cook when Oliver's awake!

It's clear that we did not consider the implications of locating the kid's room beside the kitchen, for the near or distant future. Only now am I thinking of what it will mean when, at any time in the next few years, we want to have guests after, you know, seven o'clock. Ha ha ha!

We could put Oliver down to nap in our bedroom, but that is a temporary solution, as eventually we'll want him to sleep in the nursery day and night. We could also switch bedrooms, but some of you will know that we already did that in preparation for baby time, and we would be loath to do it again, for a number of reasons. For one, we bought a bed that won't fit in the nursery! The current arrangement is definitely a far better use of space, in my opinion, but it does present challenges. I can only hope that a good new door will take care of the greatest of them. If you will indulge my home renovationist for  a moment, we had hoped to put a nice french door there, and maybe even open up the wall a bit, but I don't think that'll be happening now! Of course, pretty near all of our planned renovations are in doubt now—except the bathroom. That must happen!

Notes

Oliver has clearly grown heavier, and we'll find out just how much tomorrow at our four-week (!) midwife appointment, another trip into Kensington, hopefully with less rain than last time.

Tomorrow will be four weeks of parenting! We haven't dropped Oliver yet, although he occasionally seems intent on lurching from our grasp.

I am intent on making the most of this glorious late summer weather and spending lots of time outdoors, preferably away from our property. I would like to spend time in the garden, which I've sorely neglected, leaving it to the whiteflies. There are tomatoes to harvest and plants to prune—always—but there's also lots of other household/personal/baby stuff to do.

Such as:

Cleaning diapers! A friend asked the other day how I'm dealing with diaper stains. I said I'm not bothering, which seems to me the only reasonable course of action. But I didn't mention that we're using diaper covers that hide any stains. Know this: cloth diapers will stain. Since we're using diaper covers, the important thing is not necessarily to whiten the diapers themselves, but just to make sure we thoroughly clean and rinse them. When the diapers reach a stain level where we can no longer stand to look a them, I suppose I'll bleach them and rinse, rinse, rinse. However, we have some diapers made of unbleached organic cotton and I'd hate to treat them that way. Those I might boil, treat with some other stain remover, and hang in the sun. Heck, if that works, I'll do it to all of them. But for now, they've mostly got pale green blotches, and that's okay by me.

Reading (about babies)! Our doula recommended Your Baby & Child: from Birth to Age Five by Penelope Leach as her go-to baby book, and we took it out from the library last week. I've only just started reading it, but it's very reassuring.

More later. Gotta go hang some diapers while the sun is shining! Read on..!

Parenthood: day twenty-five

Lest anyone think that I'm having a bad time as a new father, I assure you I'm in love with my son and adjusting fairly well to my role as his dad. He is a beautiful boy, and I only pray I can do the right things to support him on his ascent to the stars. It is frustrating—often!—but that is the nature of challenge, particularly such a great one as parenthood. And the goal is one of the most important and rewarding: a happy child. I believe I'm up to it. Just, you know, I'm used to certain things, but now I can't have expectations of time.

So on to positive stuff!

Oliver is most like a person when he is holding his head up. Otherwise, he still seems to be little more than a living doll. He is certainly demonstrating development besides lifting his head though. Yesterday and today, when he awoke from a stint in the swing, I saw him sucking his thumb. I'm sure it is still accidental, but it's promising nonetheless. The swing seems good for this, because the shoulder straps keep his hands near his face and prevent them from flailing around too much. When we lay him on his front, he lifts his head, kicks and pushes, starting to make crawling motions. He's also starting to follow objects with his eyes and take a keen interest in patterns.

He also doesn't seem to complain as much about gastrointestinal activity, although at this point I don't want to suggest that I can predict anything about his behaviour! We tried gripe water a few times, and he liked it and it calmed him, but did it help him digest? I couldn't say. We haven't used it in a few days, and he hasn't made any of the grunting cries we associated with internal argy-bargy.

Notes

Only Oliver's head and back are still peeling, and only a little, and his thrush and diaper rash appear to be receding. I think my diaper cleaning practices have improved. Actually, I'm sure they have. I think I simply wasn't rinsing them enough. I've also been changing him more frequently. He went through all of his cloth diapers—almost thirty—in about a day and a half! He was eating a lot more that day, too; maybe a growth spurt.

His face is taking on shape, or so Danijela says. I think he still doesn't look much like either of us—although he resembles Danijela as a baby—but she says he looks like me, which I suppose is inevitable. This is one of the ways parenthood distorts time. It is possible, even easy, to try to imagine the future Oliver—what he'll look like, what he'll like, how he'll behave—but day-to-day it is happening almost maddeningly slow. Still, it will be only a few weeks before he is an entirely different baby.

I've all but given up on stretching. Our days will have to be quite different than they are for that to continue.

Danijela is working today, a longer day than last weekend. The day has been uneventful so far though. He's napped for three hours already. I can only guess that he'll awaken soon, but who knows! We'll be feeding Oliver with a cup for the first time, rather than a bottle, in the hopes of avoiding nipple confusion and interfering with his ability to breastfeed. My parents are here to help, but they have barely even seen the babe, as he's been in his nursery the whole time. I managed to get a lie-down, and I might manage to run out to grab some groceries, but not until after a change and a feed. Now with the luxury of a still moment, I have no idea what to do but continue to write.

Okay, I do have some chores that I might be able to finish quickly. So: more later! Read on..!