In Greenbay, WI this weekend there will be what should be seen as a Gulf Coast Championship Game. Two quarterbacks from the Katrina effected areas of New Orleans and Kiln will battle it out to see which gets to represent the Gulf Coast in the Super Bowl (we are the better coast by the by). Eli Manning is a Newman grad from New Orleans who led the Giants over the Cowboys on Sunday (what a great game that was, Ha Ha T.O.). Brett Farve is good southern boy from Kiln, MS (just an hour and a half away, been there and there ain’t much to do) who is extremely active in his home town community and led his Packers to a huge victory over Seattle on Saturday.
Go Gulf Coast!!
Here is yet another way I am a bad mama (social services is going to be coming by soon if I’m not careful). I eat broccoli. I also eat cabbage – ooh but I love cabbage. And edamame and hummus and eggs and milk……….
Hold on, you are thinking, what is wrong with that. They all sound like healthy food choices there little mama.
I feel your logic gentle reader – but, healthy is not alway best when breast is best!
What? you question again.
Well, all these foods are known agents of a little something we call gas (oh, I forgot – I also eat yummy yummy beans). The “they” and “them” who live inside parenting books warn against consuming all he foods I eat daily. As with many of their other suggestions, I ignore them (and yet I keep reading – it’s like a car wreck!).
Yup, I keep eating these gassy foods and so – qed and drum roll please —- baby is gassy.
But, (no pun intended) we are very lucky. Instead of screaming in pain, baby farts – and farts and farts and farts …. ad infinitum. This can all be rather embarassing when she does this (loudly – oh so loudly) in public – or a new friends arms. But, the only other option is for me to sit around eating cookies (there is no grey area in my diet). So she will continue farting – and farting and farting and farting….
Carseats are interesting contraptions.
Babies don’t seem to like them too much – except when the car is continuouvsly moving over 30 mph. Cats love them – as long as they are stationary in the house.
No matter how tight or lose you make the buckles – baby always thinks they are too tight and you always suspect they are too loose.
As tiny as the seat and baby are – they somehow take up more space than an adult.
Baby seems to grow too long too quickly but still be too small to move into a bigger seat.
The car seat weighs way more than baby or even a stroller for baby – and costs more than some strollers too – but strollers aren’t the necessity that carseats are.
All these ponderings and we are still only on our rear facing infant car seat.
This post might offend some people. It is not going to be garish or obscene. No, just a reflection of my pregnancy and birth compared to other women’s reflections. Reflections that annoy me as this will probably annoy some.
I have read quite a few blog entries, letters to editors and articles by women who feel cheated out of the birth experience they desired. They ended up with an over medicalized birth when all they wanted was to do it the old fashioned way. My labor and delivery of Annabel were definitely not the old fashioned way – but then neither was my pregnancy.
From the get go we relied on our doctor and much medicalization to make our pregnancy last. At the beginning my hormone levels were too low so I had to go on a hormone supplement (that was not proven to help but at least we would know we had tried). In my second trimester I had more complications and had to go on more medicine as well as full and complete bedrest except for weekly doctor’s visits. By the end of my pregnancy I had given up hope (partly) of the natural childbirth I had dreamed of (and goodness knows I only dreamed of one because I had never given birth), while still reading my book on the Bradley method and practicing my breathing.
The actual labor and delivery of Annabel was nicely planned by my doctor and went smoothly. She broke my water, my labor became harder, I progressed from 4cm to 10 cm in an hour and a half, the epidural guy FINALLY showed up, I “labored down” for a epiduralized hour, then pushed for three contractions and Annabel was out.
I do not regret anything except that the epidural man went to the wrong room. I missed nothing I desired to feel by having an epidural for my last hour. I felt myself pushing and when I pushed Annabel out it felt right. The feeling of pushing her out was the right feeling and I knew it even with the epidural in.
Yes, it would have been nice if I hadn’t had so so so many complications during my pregnancy. It would have been nice to feel like I had some decision making power at some point between conception and that last push. But, I have Annabel. She was and is perfect. I would do it all again for her – with a million times as much medical interference if it meant I would get her in the end. So, when I read about those women who feel cheated by the birth experience they had I get annoyed because it seems like all that should matter now is that they got a baby out of it. Who cares about any of the other details.
So, all the pregnancy books tell you what to pack to bring to the hospital. In addition to the many other things “they” were wrong about (“they” and “them” being interchangeable and meaning those who “know” all about pregnancy) this was another one.
I followed the checklists and brought magazines and an ipod for early labor when I would be killing time – except it turns out my early labor lasted a month and I was already 4 cm dialted upon arrival making it to 10 cm in an hour and a half. So, that undrugged hour and a half (while the epidural guy was lost) were devoted to breathing through my hard labor contractions.
I brought my own pillows – okay they were right about this one… BUT, I wish I had also brought my own blanket. I had a blanket for baby which I had crocheted out of soft pink chenille and I found this thoroughly indispensable as a prop and pillow and support and wrap, a larger one would have worked even better.
I brought my own nightgown and underwear “to make me feel more comfortable” but wore the hospital issued ones the whole time. Why dirty my nightgown or underwear when the hospital is providing disposable net underwear (surprisingly comfortable) and a gown tailor made for easy post-delivery examinations.
I brought slippers and a house coat (I did use the housecoat to cover where the hospital gown didn’t) but found the flip-flops I happened to wear to the hospital much more useful being inherently non-slip and able to be worn in the icky hospital shower.
I brought “healthy snacks” for me and my labor partner as well as mini candy bars ( the benefit to having a baby near Halloween). We made it through the candy bars in a day and a half. The “healthy snacks” were toted home. I actually liked the greasy hospital food – but next time I will have a McDonalds double quarter pounder with cheese waiting for me once baby is delivered (crazy as it seems I produce more milk after eating one!)
We obviously used the camera (the digital one). But that is a no brainer.
We didn’t need all the stuff we packed for baby. The books tell you to bring nightgowns and diapers, burp cloths and wipes – but our hospital provided everything except the going home outfit. So everything we packed was just more to lug home.
The books are interesting – but I think they are written for big city girls going to big city hospitals (ie NYC or La or the likes), here in good old Metairie, LA what happens is more common sense and less list worship.
Like most new parents, Mike and I obsess over Annabel’s bowel movements. This is not our fault. At the hospital – from the moment the baby is born – the staff has you counting the number of bowel movements and the number of wet diapers. At the beginning Annabel did not have enough of the bowel movement type of diaper – what we call poopy diapers. Because of this Mike and I are overly happy with each poopy diaper. But still, Annabel was not that generous in her pooping.
Annabel used to poo once a day – or once every two days. This was because she was on formula supplements. Now that she is down to 2-4 ounces of formula a day she has more regular poopy diapers. A big poopy diaper plus breast milk poopy diapers.
Ah, the joys of parenthood! Poopy talk!!!
What we have discovered though, to make the poopy come, all we have to do is sit her in her poopy chair. My cousin gave us this vibrating musical pappasan chair. Annabel, as much as she enjoys the music and as much as she is intrigued by the vibrations, mainly finds the chair relaxing. And with this relaxation comes the poo.
It is actually a very helpful discovery. If we are going out we sit her in the poopy chair to get her poopy out before we leave. If she seems a bit constipated – yup, into the poopy chair she goes.
So, if you are looking for a wonderful gift for new parents then I suggest the poopy chair.
Breastfeeding helps you lose weight – I was told. However, I don’t understand how. For the bulk of every day you will find me like this…, sitting around breastfeeding. I am supposed to be taking in extra calories which I then burn off by feeding Annabel. And yet, the weight stays. Most likely because my days are spent like this. Sitting around breastfeeding.
Don’t get me wrong, the whole entire day isn’t spent sitting and breastfeeding – sometimes I’m lying down and sometimes I stand. Stiil, no weight loss.
Oh well, I don’t mind “them” being wrong about the weight loss. It is nice to have long spans of time with Annabel warm against me. It would be nice to have pants that fit — but I guess this just means the next paycheck or the one after or the one after that we will buy me some new clothes that fit my gorgeous curviness.
