Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Too Much Nurse

I am remembering two years ago today, Oct 30, 2010. The girl was 4 days old, and we had finally been transferred from the NICU to the family rooms in Intensive Care, with the expectation that we'd be going home soon. It was going to be our first night staying together as a family.

When regular babies are born, their parents take them home and they are all together from the get-go. We had a different kind of start, one that was strange, dramatic, stressful, scary and confusing. That's just how it is when you have a baby with complications. She was immediately whisked away and hooked up to monitors. I didn't even get to see her until hours later, and didn't get to hold her until the next day. We had to get permission from the nurses to handle our own child, and the nurses and their styles changed with every shift. It was frustrating.

So needless to say, we were so relieved to be finally able to be near her. She was still hooked up to monitors, and we weren't allowed to sleep with her, but we were able to feed her, hold her and love her, and be a family for the first time.

The evening shift change brought a new nurse. She was friendly and enthusiastic, and we thought we'd all get along just fine. This nurse was very diligent. She was in every hour, or even more often, to test A's vitals, which involved a bunch of unpleasant things like pricking her foot to check her iron, temperature under the armpit, weighing her, checking her oxygen, checking her food intake and just generally handling her.

Now, I'm no medical expert, but I'm pretty sure that's too much nurse. She would walk in at any time. I would have my shirt off pumping breastmilk or trying to nurse and she would just throw the door wide open without warning. She told us not to hold the baby, that if she needed to be held to call her. Really? The parents can't hold their own child? I don't think that's correct. I began to think she was a little obsessed and that put me ill at ease. Not a lot of sleep or bonding that night, for any of us, needless to say.

I did finally lay down and rested about midnight. I was at peace for about 45 minutes when the door comes flying right open. It was my favorite nurse. I pretended not to wake up, but she came right over to my face and said to me "Look, I'm a cat!". The clock strikes midnight on Halloween and the place goes nuts, I guess. She was lucky I didn't punch her in her cat neck.

What could have been a nice peaceful night was a total nightmare and I was edgy and irritable, but totally happy when the shift changed again. The morning nurse did her job, and gave us space. She also got us discharged from the hospital!

We took our sweet baby girl home on Halloween 2010, and we have never looked back, except for some un-fond memories of a particularly bizarre nurse experience.

Monday, October 22, 2012

The Blessing and Curse of the Television

Lately, A has gotten an introduction to the almighty television, thanks to her daddy. I'm not exactly thrilled about this development. I think the less TV a small person (and a big person for that matter) gets, the better. I can see the educational and entertainment benefits for sure, but I can also see a habit developing that I don't like.

She is obsessed with characters now. She wakes up talking about them, she talks about them all day, and if we do turn on the TV so she can watch, she talks about it all during the show. She talks about it until the moment she closes her sweet eyes at night.

This is what is sounds like, in rapid succession:
"Watch Elmo?"
"Watch Grover?" (pronounced gopher)
"Watch Dora and monkey?" (pronounced dowa)
"Watch Bert and Ernie?" (pronounced but and uhnie)
"Watch Cookie?" (pronounced kucky)
"Watch Gabba?"

When you tell her they are not on, or that you aren't going to turn them on, you get the whole list, over and over --
"Elmo off?"
"Grover off?"
etc.

At the end of the day when you tell her they are sleeping, same thing. She needs to confirm that they are all indeed sleeping and no one is still awake to spend some time with her. So funny.

To our credit, we don't use it as a babysitter, at least I don't see this happening when I'm home. I suspect it might happen a little bit when daddy is home alone with her. We watch with her, and we talk about what's going on. We play the games and dance with her, so it's an interactive experience overall. More and more, though, she is becoming immersed in it, and she zombies out. This worries me a little bit.

One great thing about TV is that she is a little sponge, and if the program is positive, she drinks it all in, processes it, and repeats it over and over and over. The other day I heard her reading books in her room and she was saying "six, six, six". I went in there to discover her pointing at the number six. That was the number of the day on Sesame Street the day before. The benefit of watching is that I know she is learning.

She will learn about anything she sees, which is also why I won't let J watch horror movies or shows with adult content when she's around. She just doesn't need those images in her mind! I don't know how much harm it does, but I know it can't be much good.

I have two main objections to TV watching. One, I don't want her to become a fat, lazy, zombie couch potato. I want her to be active and interested in all the world, not just a flat box inside the house. This is especially challenging in the cold weather, I can see that already.

My other objection is that I do not want her to become a victim of marketing and commercialization. I don't want her to grow up having to have all the trendy toys and be obsessed with whatever the marketing machine is feeding to her at that moment. I want her to explore and find her own interests, not just be a demographic for someone to make money from. That part of our culture makes me sick! J doesn't feel as strongly about this, but I do. It's going to be quite the trick to navigate this as the materialistic current is so powerful.

I can't ban her from TV altogether, or I guess I could, but J would never agree to that. We will find a happy medium. The experts will tell you no more than 2 hours of screen time a day for a 2-year-old. I will stick with this when we're home together. When I'm not home with her, I don't have control over what happens, but I can work to strike the balance as much as possible.

Oh this is such a delicate dance!

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Tale of a Super Reader

One of the sure signs that A is our real daughter is her incredible love for reading. She has loved looking at books since she could sit up, and now that she is having a language explosion, she is even more obsessed with reading. We hear her babbling excitedly to herself, reading book after book, for up to an hour at a time. That's a lot of concentration for such a young person! Her babbling is increasingly becoming coherent and now we hear words and phrases and even sentences popping out. This warms our hearts like nothing else.



Both J and I are lifelong avid readers. We have always read everything we can get our hands on. We spent the first few years of our relationship trolling bookstores, sharing stories and reading together. I think this is so romantic. I was always very studious with a passion for the English language and, proudly, a great speller. J was the kid who was constantly being busted for reading with a flashlight under his blankets after he was supposed to be asleep, and reading books way beyond his age range just to educate himself.

I have high hopes that A will follow in our footsteps. She may not be the most physical or athletic person due to her heart condition, but maybe she will be smart and studious. I think this will set her up well for life. We intend to encourage her curiosity and indulge her with piles and piles of books. Oh the storytimes we will have together!

I don't know if this kind of thing is hereditary, or maybe it was some kind of good karma match, but it is just one more indication that we were meant to be together.

The Internet Creeps Me Out

It has come to my attention lately that anyone can see what you put up on the internet. Like in a blog, for example. I am torn because I want people to read what I write, but I don't want the attention of creepy stalkers or pedophiles viewing photos of my sweet baby girl. I really don't want to unintentionally feed that sick, disgusting shit. So, what to do?

One thing I could do would be to clamp it down. No more photos of Arli and no more personal posts. But then, what is the point of even having a blog or a Facebook page, if not to share a little bit about who I am?

I am naive, I guess, to some of the more nefarious activities that the internet is used for. My mind just doesn't go there, and I don't spend much time thinking about what nasty things could be going on. Sex, and specifically child pornography, is a massive part of internet usage. I don't really know how massive, and I don't really want to. I don't want to be complacent about it, but a healthy amount of denial (is there such a thing?) keeps my mind from wandering to dark, scary places.

It is great that I can look up names of my long lost childhood friends and find out where they live, where they have lived, if they are married or not, what their phone number or email is. It is also kind of unsettling to know that someone can put my name into a database and find out personal details about me. It makes me feel so exposed and vulnerable.

I feel like I can take care of myself, more or less, but I absolutely don't want to make my daughter prey to some sick jerk. I have a responsibility to keep her safe. I don't think I will completely ban all photos of her (she is so cute and she has a fan base, after all) but I am going to be a lot more mindful of what I share about her. You just never know who's watching, and in that way the internet totally creeps me out.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Funk

I've been not quite myself lately, and I can't seem to pinpoint it to one thing. I like to handle my problems like the Terminator does - scan, identify and destroy. I don't have the interest or time to dwell on problems, you see. Lots to do, gotta stay motivated and on-the-up. Life is short.

I know I am off kilter because I've been feeling very emotional, and kind of not in a good way. Little things that I would normally just move through are really bugging me, and when this happens I sometimes spout off in an I-am-my-own-worst-enemy type of way. This chips away at my relationships with people, and it gets me the exact opposite result that I am going for. It is really counterproductive, to say the least.

There are lots of disturbing bits and pieces of societal shrapnel getting under my skin. Work is strange because there are changes afoot and everyone is nervous about their jobs and their future. I am in a constant state of anxiety about the safety and well-being of my kid, even though she gets the best care and she's a happy little rascal by all accounts. I know I have mentioned it before, but I cannot stand it that perfectly good people are suffering from cancer and other ailments all around me. And watching or reading the news plants all kinds of paranoia seeds in my mind witnessing the damage that humans do to each other on a regular basis.

I was having brunch with some friends last weekend and one of them is reading a book by Pema Chodron. My friend asked me what I thought it meant to "throw it all to the wind" whether things are going your way or not. I think it means not to get too attached to your emotions, that they are temporary and they will change. Sometimes suffering is necessary to get us to clarity, and sometimes we just have to deal with it the best we can until conditions change.

I know I'm stronger than this stupid old funk. I just have to accept and hang on until the fog lifts.

Monday, October 1, 2012

Rain on the Inside

I learned today the crushing news that another one of my friends has cancer. She is 41 and it's breast cancer. Her little boy is 5. I hate this.

It conjures up one of my worst fears, that I'll get sick and somehow not be able to see my child grow up. I'm at that age now where it's suddenly a possibility, and I have seen it happen. It's something that I had never even considered when I was younger, and it's terrifying.

Most of the young people I know with cancer, though, do get successful treatment and go into remission. These are hopeful examples. But it's a brutal road, and some will leave the world whether they have unfinished business or not, whether they have people that love and depend on them or not. There are no guarantees, just crossing your fingers and facing it as bravely as you can.

It helps to remember the great lessons about impermanence, rebirth and compassion.

It helps to remember to make every moment meaningful, because I don't know which one will be my last.

It helps to hold my people close to me, to pray for their health and happiness, and to be extraordinarily grateful for the moments we have together.

I have to take refuge in this, because the other choice is just devastation, and that doesn't do anyone any good.

Chillaxin'

Jeff and I had the great good fortune to have 24 glorious hours in the wayback machine last weekend. That is, we got away for a night without the girl! We immediately relaxed in body and mind upon driving out of the driveway. It was quite sublime. We completely dote on the little lady and wouldn't have it any other way, but, man, it was nice to have a break from the 24/7 vigilance.

Jeff says he really misses his old life where he could do anything he wanted at any time. Me, I honestly barely remember that freedom. I think it's part of the Mama Programming. If we could remember, and greatly lamented the loss of it, how would we ever be completely available to, and not resentful of, our babies? I think it's different for the Mamas.

At any rate, it was a beautiful time in Port Townsend. We remembered that we were once great pals, and that we still really like each other!

The decor in our hotel room, was rather...interesting...
 


The evening stroll was lovely.

The moon was magical!

And the autumn sun in the morning was beautifully blinding.

We had dinner without having to pick up anything off the floor or rush out because someone was pitching a fit. We didn't have to carry anyone a half a mile back to the room or keep anyone from sticking her tongue in the outlets. We didn't argue once about whose turn it was to change a diaper. But even when we are on the other side of the water, we are still not far from her, and we missed her.

She was pissed at us when we got home, but soon she was back to her cuddly self. On some level, I'm sure she's happy to know that her parents are relaxed and peaceful.

We just might do this again next year!