Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

My Prayer



Little man,
Just two months old,
My prayer for you
If truth be told:
That you would come
Into the fold,
Receive the Love
That's pure as gold;
And then a wife 
To have and hold,
A love on earth
That God would mold.


He just turned two months old.  It is never too early to plan for the future of your grandchild!  
This week his great grandmother is going to see him for the first time (not counting his FaceTime debut)!


Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Guided Feet


Where will we go -
On the ground, in the air?
Where Mom and Dad lead me
My feet will be there.

They move and they flex
And pump up and down
But so far this movement
Can't get me to town.

My feet can't yet take me
Wherever I choose;
I always must travel
In threes or by twos.

But someday I'm sure
They'll take me someplace;
They'll help me climb trees
And run a fast race.

Though I'll stub my toe
And stumble sometimes,
These feet will be tough
Wherever they climb.

When these feet are able
To go on their own
They still will be guided
To go where they're shown.

They may veer off course
Get on the wrong track;
But only a little then
These feet will come back.

So I will take care
And go where I should;
I'll use them to go where
They’ll do the most good.

Through trials and storms
Always guided by Light;
Never walking alone
Whatever my plight!

But first I must stand
Before I can walk,
And after I move
I’ll learn how to talk.

I’ll use these gifts wisely
Bestowed at my birth.
I'll walk in the Way
As I travel this earth.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

This is what I've been doing

I've been out of the loop for so long. The morning my grandson was born my life changed.  My daughter came home from the hospital with this beautiful baby boy who wouldn't breastfeed. He was finger fed in the hospital, and she was encouraged to use shields and feeding syringes to to feed him. Nothing had worked and yet they sent her home. They supplemented him with formula at the hospital regardless of the big sign that said "I'm a breastfed baby."  And they sent her home with formula. Lots of it.
In a few days my husband had to go back to Maine. But I stayed here to help wean the baby off the bottle and onto the breast. It was not an easy job! He would have none of it and screamed bloody murder when a breast approached.(Now that's a picture!)
My daughter went through the typical post partum blues stuff. I kept her encouraged, fed, watered and corralled so she could just concentrate on pumping milk and feeding her son. She was exhausted. Pumping for an hour, feeding for 40 minutes, eating something for 5 minutes, trying to nap for 15 min. and start the sole routine again. When we realized that she could pump both sides at the same time it cut the pumping time in half. When she realized she could eat while pumping we shaved another five minutes off. Now she had a choice of a longer attempt at sleeping OR she could shower!
After a bit, we found that it was not THAT vital that mom be the only one to bottle feed, freeing up more time, as she could pump while the baby was eating.
By continually offering the breast and drizzling milk there when it hadn't letdown yet, he slowly got used to the idea that this was not a bad thing and stopped screaming at it.  However, no matter how much he wanted to, he could not seem to latch on.  A lactation consultant in the hospital had mentioned that his frenulum was a bit tight. We hadn't given that much thought, as he seemed normal enough to us and they had said and done other things in the hospital that hadn't given us the most confidence in them.  Both pediatricians that had seen him said that he was fine. And since he was gaining weight and being very healthy all around, they sent us on our merry way.
However, after three weeks of intense round the clock work and a couple VERY painful attempts by baby at nursing, we called in another lactation consultant to see if she had any words of wisdom.  She could see that he was gaining weight at a wonderful rate and that he wanted to nurse. He just had no ability to latch on.
This consultant also stated that the frenulum seemed a bit tight and the roof of his mouth had a high arch. So two lactation consultants said his frenulum needed to be snipped and two pediatricians said no.
After doing some research we decided we had to give the frenotomy a try. We had nothing to lose at this point and maybe a lot to gain if it worked.  One of the pediatricians who had seen him in the hospital was the only one we could find that did frenotomies. So we made the appointment on Thursday for the frenotomy on Monday afternoon.
When we got there the office was not busy, but we had to wait 15 minutes to get into the exam room, where he had to get woken up and stripped to get weighed. That took about one minute and then we had a screaming baby for 10 minutes while we waited for the doctor to show up.
At that point he looked at his records and said that he'd already looked at him in the hospital, and he was fine. We told him how he wouldn't nurse, couldn't latch correctly and the pumping routine was difficult to keep up. That's why he was doing so well, because mom wasn't!
We also mentioned that two LC's had said his frenulum might be too tight, a mild form of being tongue tied (although they hadn't used that term and neither did we). He told us they all say that about any baby that isn't nursing. AND he said that some babies just don't nurse! I couldn't believe what I was hearing from him. He said it was not necessary in this case,  and he showed us with a crude drawing on the exam table paper what a real tongue tied tongue would look like. We had of course already seen pictures of severe cases before. We hadn't even used the word tongue tied. Nor had we come in in a panic that this poor baby was tongue tied.
We asked what the down side would be if he clipped it.
Well, there would be pain and blood and chance of infection and it wouldn't accomplish anything because if your tongue was already moving freely cutting the frenulum wouldn't make it more free. Why would you put your baby through all that?
So then he sat back and watched us, waiting for us to say ok and leave.  But we didn't. My daughter and I looked at each other not knowing what we could do if this was truly not going to work, and if he was truly not going to do it.
However in the back of our minds was still the understanding that doctors since the 1950's have not been schooled in this since the advent of bottles (since babies who cannot nurse can usually drink from a bottle), that midwives used to routinely clip all frenulums with their fingernail at birth, and that he had the possibility of an unusual combination of high palate and tight frenulum meaning his tongue was just slightly short of being able to touch the roof of his mouth for the sucking action.
And then the doctor sealed the deal.  "I don't know why you would want to do this when his tongue is almost normal."
"It's almost normal?" we both asked.
"Yes," he answered, like we should be relieved about that.
And we were. But for a different reason.
"Then let's do it" we both said again at the same time (we must be related).
Almost normal was what we'd thought and why we were going to do it. We needed normal, or nursing was never going to work. Maybe it still wouldn't. But we'd gone from nursing repulsion to nursing desire in him in three weeks. We couldn't not know if this was the piece that was missing.
We had the frenulum cut. Fortunately we'd both read enough about it to know what it would entail. It would be harder on the mom than the baby. My daughter turned her back and covered her ears. I had to hold his strong arms. The nurse held his head and mouth. And the doctor did his job. It took only a few seconds. Baby was crying because he was being held down quite tightly. But he didn't get more upset when it was being clipped. And was quite happy when he was back in mom's arms. We left the office. No pain. No blood. No infection that I can even imagine happening with such a minor procedure.
And guess what. We went home, and he nursed. His mom and I cried.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Our Grandson

Meet the newest member of the family; our first grandchild, Felix! What a handsome dude!
He waited to arrive until after our 8 hour drive. We got there at 2 am and he arrived at 4:15 am, weighing in at 7 lb. 3 oz. and standing 20 inches tall... if he could stand.
You know there has to be a poem in here somewhere! Just wait until I get some sleep! I've been up all night.

Friday, July 29, 2011

Unpalatable Palette?

This is my palette for my soon-to-be grandchild's quilt.
Are these not the most vibrant colors you have ever seen together in one place?

Generations had come to places such as this.  As a little girl I had wandered the aisles along with my grandmother and aunt.  I'd hid amid the draped hidden passages, under rainbow laden tables.  As a teen I had ventured in alone, clasping the scrap of paper bearing the numbers I would need.

Today I was alone; my favorite.  No rushing, no talking, just looking, thinking and considering all the possibilities.

Marching to the door, determined not to get distracted from my duty, I could already see those bolts of lighning creating patterns on the walls inside.  I could feel the electricity pulling me in.  I took a deep breath and entered into the realm of neverending possibilities.   I was in.  I was in the land of lollipops, dark forests, exotic flowers, flowing rivers of silks and satins, and gadgets galore.  Exotic washes of color vied for my attention and I was soon pulled in, hopelessly lost to the world. . . for about 2 hours.

I had the most glorious time as my eyes drank in the marvelous colors and patterns, and my hands slid over silky smoothness, or sank into cozy plushness.   The potential was overwhelming.  Like a sculptor eyes a piece of marble and sees the future figure within, so I eyed the fabric around me.  What was calling to me?  What could be waiting, lurking inside this color, texture and pattern?

Making myself focus, I set off to get my own cart of creativity and promise.  I loaded it up with bolts of bold, bright colors.  I was going to make a baby quilt for my first grandchild, and I wanted the colors to be eyecatching and vibrant.  No sleepy baby colors for me. . . or anyone.

I rolled my cart with 10 bolts of fabric up to the cutting table.  Only one person was there before me and only one item to cut. . .good.  I won't have to wait long.  As I was waiting though, I silently pitied any person behind me.  I was only one person, yes, but with 10 cuts of fabric.

As the woman at the cutting table took my bolts of fabric and started cutting and folding my stash, she asked about my project.  She raised her eyebrows and looked a bit skeptical about a baby quilt in these colors.  She didn't say, "Oooh, how pretty". . . or "Aw, isn't that sweet. . ."
"They're going to love it" never came up either.

Another customer soon came up and stood in back of me, just as my striped fabric was being cut.  "Wow, that'll make you dizzy!"  They both chuckled at that, and talked about not being able to sleep in a room with a quilt of these colors.  I got the general idea that they weren't supporting my baby quilt idea.

I, however, know my daughter.  She WILL love it.  Her hair is purple now.  The first thing she noticed today when were "Hanging out" in Google+ today, was that my shirt matched her hair.  I held the yellow fabric on the left up to the camera so she could see it, just to see if I was on the right track.  "Oooooh, I love it!"  Those were her exact words.  I'm not lying.  Yeah.  I knew it.

The fabric I showed her is the flannel backing.  It doesn't look like flannel, does it?  It is so, so soft.  And it didn't pill or ball up when I washed it.  I love its bright yellow and all the light green, orange, pink and blue wavy lines meandering through it.

I'm excited to get started.  I've washed, dried and ironed each piece.  I wonder what the fabric is saying to me today.  I wonder which pieces want to be next to each other.  I can hardly wait to look at it again and see what design it wants to be!

Humph, dizzy.  What do they know?

They haven't seen dizzy till they've seen this quilt finished.
I'll show them dizzy!

Zero

Each day (except Sundays) in April, I'm writing poems with some obscure words starting with the letter of the day, and then doing a sm...