Did you mean to flood the bathroom?

Ah, new mommyhood.  A time of overwhelming joy, intense love, and complete absentmindedness.

Starting the task is not the problem.  The issue is completing the task.

Unfortunately, a simple question that starts with "Did you mean to...." can elicit astounding offense like nothing you have ever seen before.  To add fuel to the fire, I leave a trail of opportunities to ask that innocent question behind me wherever I go.  I would say 99.9% of the time the answer to the question is no.

Examples of things I do not mean to do include:

• Leaving the water running in a bin of pump parts and bottles and flooding the bathroom
• Putting dish soap in the dishwasher (anyone who has experienced this knows what a sudsy mess this creates)
• Pumping milk onto my lap because I have not attached the containers to the pump
• Starting a load of laundry and leaving it in the washer to mildew
• Failing to handle a mountain of medical bills
• Picking up the mail
• Leaving the oven on
• Leaving a burner on
• Leaving food items that need to be refrigerated out on the counter
• Leaving the space heater and/or vaporizer on in the bedroom
• Leaving the space heater on in the nursery
• Leaving the container of baby wipes open so they dry out
• Abandoning a variety of items purchased at the store in my car (including groceries)
• Opening the dishwasher full of clean dishes to get one out and leaving the rest inside so dirty dishes inevitably join them and create dish confusion (just start the damn thing over!)
• Letting the dog(s) out and forgetting to let them back in
• Neglecting to water the plants
• Feeding and hydrating myself

Anyone who has taken care of a newborn understands.  Nearly every time I start doing something that requires two hands, I am interrupted by the unmistakeable sound of my neglected baby.  In a perfect world, I would go back and complete the task at the next available moment.  Instead, I find myself forgetting what I was doing and starting a new task.  Sadly, I have no one to blame except myself.

Let me explain.

A few short weeks ago Jackson was a sleepy little newborn.  I would consistently have two to three hours a few times a day to get things done while he took a nap.  Unfortunately, I was still trying to get used to being sleep deprived and I spent a lot of those precious blocks of time resting (or staring into space in a fog).  Now that he is a curious little guy who spends most of the day awake and demanding my full attention I am in a bit of a pickle.  Don't get me wrong; I love how alert and responsive he has become.  It is way more fun interacting with him now that he is not constantly eating or sleeping.  However, he is not into "alone time" just yet and I have a lot on my plate that I cannot easily get done.  If only I realized how fleeting that precious nap time was.....

To all the wonderful, supportive fathers out there just trying to help, please keep in mind that your innocent question that starts with "Did you mean to....?" is dangerous territory.  Clearly sleep deprivation and a shift in the brain that allows women to focus on nurturing their child causes seriously moronic mistakes.  Of course she did not intend to leave the oven on all day.  It is not cold outside and there is not a large piece of animal needing to slow cook all day.  She is tired and way more busy throughout the day than you would think.

No, I did not mean to flood the bathroom.  I also did not mean to leave the large pile of mildewing towels used to clean up the flood sitting on the bathroom floor.  It just happens.

As you may have guessed, I started this blog post several days ago.  It just took a while to complete.  I know, shocking.....

Dear Captain Fussybritches,

Who are you and what did you do with my quiet little preemie?

I suppose since you are over 9 lbs. now you feel entitled to act like a regular baby.  Well, let me just tell you, I am all for growth and maturity, but this is not what I was expecting.

Don't get me wrong.  I love some of your new characteristics and behavior.  I mean, having a "regular size" baby is pretty cool.  You fit better in your car seat and baby carrier, your clothes and beanies actually fit, and you even graduated to size 1 diapers so I can save more money by buying them in bulk.  I can't get enough of your bright, alert eyes when you look around drinking in your surroundings.  I am so proud of you when you track objects, such as pages from the books I read you.  You make me melt when you clearly recognize me and smile when we have our little chats (aka: when I talk to you like a crazy person expecting you to talk back because I am here alone and have no adult interaction).  You are so strong and I adore it when you "stand" in my lap.  It is so impressive when you can lift and hold your head.  Mommy is so proud of your accomplishments.

However, I love you so much I feel the need to be completely honest with you.  Seriously, I love you so much it feels like my heart may actually explode sometimes, but we need to set some boundaries here.

I will start with your new attitude.  Do you honestly need to be held this much throughout the day?  What happened to the sleepy little boy who would chill and take naps so I could get things done?  Is it necessary to cry until you are picked up and bounced around the room?  I mean, I understand crying if you need me to immediately fulfill a basic need, such as hunger, a diaper change, or pain relief.  Frankly, your need to be held and bounced so many times a day is getting a bit selfish.  If you would just ride on mommy in your baby carrier and allow me to have both hands to get things done this could work out.  However, when you insist on poking your head out and arching your back out of the carrier I have to support you with one hand.  This completely negates the point of the carrier and having both hands to function.  Come on man!  Have you noticed that I constantly need to pump milk, wash pump parts and bottles, and clean your clothing, burp cloths, sheets, and blankets?  I mean, really.

Speaking of pumping milk, can't you just enjoy your vibrating chair quietly while I express your next meal?  Isn't it bad enough that I can't constantly nurse you because every time I do I end up in excruciating pain?  Come on!  I even give you the vibrating chair and I sit in the glider.  If I could enjoy a vibrating massage every time I pumped milk maybe it would not be so bad.  A little cooperation and appreciation would go a long way with me.  Just chill out, enjoy your massage, and suck on your pacifier.  Your fresh milk will be ready as soon as possible.

Also, can't you give me a little more warning that you are going to be hungry?  Seriously, you go from zero to sixty in a shockingly short amount of time.  One minute you are content and possibly even sleeping, the next you are so hungry you literally scream and attempt to eat your hands in an immature display of drama.  I know you are hungry, and admittedly I get pretty cranky myself when my blood sugar drops, but it takes a few minutes to heat a bottle.  Screaming does not expedite the process.  I was hoping you would start to figure that out, but I may be wrong....

While we are on the subject of hunger, do you not realize that I need to eat as well?  If I can't get a short break from feeding, changing, entertaining, and holding, I don't eat.  You used to nap and I could even clean up after eating.  Now your appetite and need for attention is insatiable and I can't find time to give my body the nourishment it needs to produce your food.  I suppose you think you are doing me a favor and helping me lose weight, but I am pretty sure my body is in starvation mode and hanging on to every calorie it can get.  This is not exactly an effective weight loss plan.  Just thought you should know.  Mommy would be much happier if she could continue to lose the baby weight (plus some!).

Speaking of producing your food, are you under the impression that I enjoy pumping milk?  Sure, I don't mind doing it despite the time-consuming and annoying nature of the process.  I mean, it is what is best for you.  My milk is full of antibodies to keep you healthy and is a pure form of food for your little body.  However, I find it a tad offensive when you completely disregard the fact it is liquid gold.  Surely you have heard me talk about my concerns that I won't be able to keep up with your increasing milk quantity needs since I can't nurse you more than a few times a day.  To keep up with your needs, I literally spend hours every day hooked up to a machine that tugs on very sensitive body parts to pull milk out of me.  When you fall asleep with a mouth full of milk and let it dribble down your chin, well, quite frankly it feels like a slap in the face.  Oh, and not burping no matter how many positions I try and how long I pat your back only to spit up the milk I expressed for you because you had an air bubble is infuriating.  I know I told you how much I love it when you smile, but right after you spit up the milk I painstakingly produced for you is not an appropriate time.  Also, insisting on eating more milk than you can handle in a sitting by crying unless I give you more and then spitting up what you can't handle is maddening.  Serenity now!

By the way, it may not bother you that your clothes and face smell like sour milk from constant spit up, but it bothers me.  I don't mind wiping your face and bathing you, but when you spit up on your clothes and blankets I have to wash those.  I know it is not your fault that our washer broke (the most inconvenient appliance to break for a new mother, by the way!), but constantly schlepping loads of laundry next door to Auntie BaBa's house has been beyond annoying.  The fact that you no longer like to take long, uninterrupted naps makes going next door to do laundry next to impossible.  Also, please remember that your laundry is not all that needs to be washed.  Keep up that business and the new washer and drying are coming out of your future allowance!

Finally, I would like to address the idea of fussing when you are tired.  I know this is what babies do and you are not alone.  However, what is the point?  How does crying help?  What am I supposed to do for you here?  I can rock you, pat and rub your back, even sing to you if that is your cup of tea.  I feel like I am usually doing these things and you still feel the need to cry if you need to sleep.  It is quite simple actually: if you are tired, go to sleep (cue Samuel L. Jackson).  If you are having trouble falling asleep, try watching a Seinfeld episode on the DVR or playing solitaire on your phone.  Works for me!  I would just like to point out that if I screamed and cried every time I was tired, well, you can only imagine....

All of this is probably not your fault.  Here is what I think happened: you somehow paid attention to the video we had to watch about the period of purple crying.  I am not sure how you pulled that off since you will still in the womb when we were forced to watch said video, but you have seemed to realize, "Hey, I am three weeks past my due date so I am supposed to start holding my breath until I turn purple and crying so hard I choke."  The thing is, you don't HAVE to do this.  That cute little scream you let out to get my attention is sufficient.  I get it; you need something.  You do not need to scream and cry for an extensive amount of time to get your point across.  You don't need to literally choke for me to take action.  I am here for you Jackson, and I don't plan on letting you down.  Just do me a favor, take it down a notch.

I would like to commend you for keeping this behavior contained mostly to the day time.  At night you seem to be all business.  You fuss and cry a little when you wake up hungry and need to eat, sleep a little while I heat up your bottle and get my pumping parts ready, and maybe fuss a little when I change your diaper.  Other than that, you drink your milk and go right back to sleep.  The stories of colicky babies who cry for hours on end all night shake me to the core.  Please don't go there Jackson.  I will take Captain Fussybritches all day if it means we can get through the exhausting nights together unscathed.

Love you forever my fussy little angel,

Mommy

*Not your cutest face buddy*

Invasion of the Microbes

****Warning: DO NOT read this post if you are easily grossed out!****

Men, this is your last chance!  Turn back now!  I am going to be writing about things like yeast and nipples.  Keep your innocence.  Or, if you feel you are up to it, keep reading.

Keep in mind, I am writing this blog to document my experiences.  I am doing this for two main reasons.

1. Avoid pregnancy and new motherhood amnesia
2. Provide Jackson with the story of his early life and what Colin and I are going through to be the best parents we can

Again, this post is going to get real, quick.  I am talking photos and everything.  Turn back if you are afraid.

Okay, here we go.

It all started with bloody poop.  Sam had some major grossness coming out of his rear end on a walk one day.  The next thing I knew, I was having to wipe his butt each time he came in from the backyard.  I was wiping away more than loose stool.  He had a significant amount of blood coming out as well.  The last straw was a bloody accident on the carpet.

When you see blood, it is natural to freak out.  I consider myself a fairly rational person and I knew it was most likely broken blood vessels when he was straining to going potty.  However, this was a lot of blood and it was happening each time he tried to poop.  Also, he has never had this type of stomach issue before.  I called the vet.

I was asked to take in a stool sample.  No problem, it was readily available on my carpet.  

Keep in mind, a trip to the vet entails getting Jackson ready and dropped off with the grandparents so I don't have to take him in with me.  That is a whole other ordeal that takes approximately an hour depending on time of day.

Sam had an overgrowth of gram positive bacteria.  

*Nerd Alert*

To explain, dogs have gram-positive and gram-negative bacteria in their intestines.  The difference between these two types of bacteria has to do with a peptidoglycan layer (a polymer made up of sugars and amino acids that forms a mesh-like layer) and whether or not it is outside of the cell membrane or between two cell membranes.  Gram-positive bacteria has a peptidoglycan layer outside of the cell membrane (remember, bacteria also have a cell wall, similar to plants), therefore, it retains a crystal violet stain and shows up dark blue or purple under a microscope.   Gram-negative bacteria has its peptidoglycan layer between two cell membranes so it does not retain the stain.  

Moving on.

Upon examination, Sam had a significant amount of bleeding in his colon and rectum.  He was given IV fluids (which created a funny little hump on his back making him look like a camel) and a prescription for antibiotics.  We also were tasked with making him a gourmet dinner of rice and chicken broth.  These treatments should have made him better in a few days, which was imperative because I was getting pretty tired of wiping his bloody butt with disinfecting wipes each time he came inside.  Not.A.Good.Time.

Fine, Sam is going to live.  Hooray for that.  He still had a few accidents on the carpet, so he was relegated to the kitchen area when I was gone during the day.  I could not deal with cleaning the carpet every time I came home in addition to everything else I have going on as a new mommy.  It is exhausting and disgusting, and thank goodness Jackson is not crawling yet.  I told Colin if Sam has one more accident I am cutting that section out of the carpet.  Done.

Once I wrapped my head around Sam's special needs, it started to dawn on me that nursing Jackson was growing increasingly painful.  I would literally tear up every time he latched on.  Instead of nursing, it felt like he was stabbing me.  When he was done, it was intensely itchy and it felt like broken glass was floating around inside my breast.  Again, Not.A.Good.Time.

There is a local lactation support group called Mommy & Me.  I decided to go and get some help.  Not only did I want to weigh Jackson and find out how much milk he was transferring when nursing, I wanted to know if there was something wrong with his latch that was causing the pain.  From my limited understanding of breast feeding, it is supposed to get less painful with time, not more.

Remember how advanced of a feeder Jackson is?  Of course his latch is perfect.  He is transferring a few ounces each time he feeds.  He is a rock star.  The pain is caused by another fun little microbe in my life.

Candida.  AKA: Thrush

Duh!  I studied thrush when I took microbiology in college.  I know someone who experienced thrush after her cesarean and actually quit nursing because it was so painful.  How could I not think of this on my own?  To be fair, this is the image that would represent what we learned in college:

Jackson is not all jacked up in his mouth like this.  If I really look, the back of his tongue looks a little white, but for the most part he is fine.

The lactation nurse explained that my brain has shifted since I have been tasked with taking care of my son.  My right brain, responsible for love and nurturing has taken over.  My left brain, responsible for math and other more advanced thought processes, is not as accessible.  Colin can attest to this.  I am typically not allowed to drive anymore when he is involved due to my absent-minded and completely nonsensical routes I have taken when running errands.  I am not dangerous, but I certainly cannot plan a gas-efficient way to get all my errands taken care of.

*Nerd Alert!*

Candida Albicans is a yeast that naturally lives in your body.  Particularly the vagina (if applicable) and mouth.  It prefers a warm, moist (I hate that word!) environment, so nursing is a perfect set up for a colony.  This microorganism is opportunistic and takes advantage of disruptions in the flora of your gut when you are subjected to stress, injury, or the most common reason, antibiotics.  Of the many byproducts released by Candida, uric acid (which can build up in your joints and cause gout) and acetaldehyde (which causes chronic headaches and brain fog) are the most common symptoms experienced.  In addition to the ideal environment, yeast loves to convert sugars into carbon dioxide and alcohol (we harness this process to make beer) and one of the side effects is that you crave sugary foods.

Moving on again.

Headaches, brain fog, sugar cravings?  I thought lack of sleep and my postpartum status were causing me to experience these unfortunate symptoms.  All this time I was hosting a manipulative little colony of yeast that was doing much more than making me cry when I nurse my child?  What a clever little microbe!

So, in addition to Sam's special dietary and medicinal needs, I started following the "thrush protocol".  In a nutshell, this involves a lot of white vinegar and boiling water.  Here is a rundown of everything I have been doing to get rid of this fun little yeast colony Jackson and I have been sharing with each other every time he nurses:

1. Boil my pumping parts and his bottle parts in water and vinegar after each use.
2. Use a new towel each time I shower.
3. Wash my bras separately in hot water with vinegar in the final rinse rather than fabric softener.
4. Wash my nipples with a solution of (you guessed it!) vinegar and water after each nursing session.
5. Use Lotrimin on my nipples, yet make sure I remove it when Jackson is going to nurse again.
6. Use a syringe to apply a suspension of Nystatin in Jackson's mouth four times daily.
7. Apply a Nystatin cream to Jackson's behind as needed.
8. Take a Diflucan pill daily to fight the colony on me.
9. Drink my probiotic yogurt shots and take probiotic dietary supplements.

In addition to that nightmare, Sam was not getting better.  I had to go back to the veterinarian office and get a second opinion.  Apparently, in addition to the bacteria, he has stress-induced colitis.  Basically, he is upset that he is no longer the baby and the high-alert protectiveness he is experiencing along with the sound of crying is too much to handle.  He was given some doggy tummy pills and prescription for Immodium and Pepcid AC.  Really?

This is all the medication and supplies needed between Sam, Jackson, and I right now.....

Basically, I am always boiling vinegar and water and I spend a lot of time administering medicine.  Our house smells like I have been chowing down on sea salt and vinegar chips all day.  I am convinced that a person could not have a job and thrush at the same time.  Not possible.

The pharmacist told me the Diflucan should work in 24 to 48 hours and start making the pain subside.  Well, that really was not the case.  It still hurt so bad to nurse, I started to get frustrated.

I went back to Mommy & Me and a gal that works at a pediatrician's office told me about a fun little condition called contact dermatitis that mimics thrush.  Apparently she has seen a lot of women misdiagnosed with thrush.  There are people out there who have followed this crazy protocol (which takes up SO MUCH TIME!) who never knew to ask for a culture to make sure it was thrush.  She asked me if I had my milk cultured to check for yeast.  Well, of course not.  This was presented a week ago as: duh, you have thrush!  She told me to give the Diflucan a week and if I was still having pain to get a milk culture.

Also, Sam is still having accidents (he even busted out of the kitchen to go potty on the carpet) and his bowels are still not 100% better.  The next step for him is doggie Valium or Prozac to help him calm down.  Again, really?

So here I am.  One day shy of a week on this medication and I am still in pain.  Great.  Looks like I am on the search for a doctor tomorrow who can see me and write up a lab order for a milk culture.  After all the work I have done to clear up the colony that supposedly was living on me and Jackson plus all the efforts to prevent reinfection, I cannot fathom the idea it was all in vain and I will have to try another method of treatment to get rid of my discomfort.

I never anticipated that I would be hoping for yeast.  What has my life come to?

This little pumpkin is well worth it......