Gratitude

I have been dreading this day for a while, partly because I knew I'd have to get up at 7 am after a regular night of non-sleep to be at our GI doctor appointment at 8 and mostly because I figured the news wouldn't be good. And like so many things in this strange and wonderfully unpredictable life, today turned out to be one of my best days in a long time.

Somehow we managed to drag ourselves out of bed at 7 am and be in the car with both kids by 7:20. Rhys and I deserve medals of honor for that accomplishment, and we are both our own heroes right now. Those of you with kids know just what I'm talking about. Anyway, the GI doc was an asian version of Keanu in The Matrix, really. He was profoundly perplexed at every turn of our conversation. I was thrilled to see that he was young and a good listener and had Versace glasses, though I don't know why that was of any importance. Something about a guy that can choose a gorgeous pair of prescription glasses really wins my heart. He listened to us very carefully, looked at the dirty diaper I'd stored in a ziploc baggie in the fridge, and said "I'm really happy with this poop." I was so relieved. He went on to say that Raya is in the 90th percentile for both her weight and height for this age. In other words, she's gigantic. Which means she is thriving on my breastmilk despite her continuous habit of fussing and frantic latching/unlatching. He also said that I could.... wait for it.... EAT WHATEVER THE HECK I WANT!! She has no food allergy, based on the fact that I have been killing myself on this elimination diet for over 2 weeks with no results. I told him that the appointment was well worth the $250 just for the go-ahead to eat Oreos again. He looked at me and said "$250?!?" as if he didn't know what he was charging for his office visits. Mmm hmm.

So here's the good/bad news: Raya is perfectly healthy, she just has a raging case of colic. He said to hang on, the worst is yet to come, until around 4-6 months. And I had a tiny heart attack right there, a small stroke in my chair. I had read that 50% of babies are done with colic by 2 months, and I'm holding on for dear life to that statistic. He said he wanted to give me the worst case scenario, to which I then said: "Don't." Let's just assume she's in that 50% group. Every day I wake up and say to a deceptively enchanting Raya, "Is today the last day of your colic?" and she smiles wide as if to say "Heck yes, mama. I'm done with that old trick. I'm as exhausted as you are." And I will pretend every day, every time she has an episode, every minute she's screaming, that this is the last. And one day all of a sudden, it really will be.

So I headed straight for the Nordstrom Cafe and got a mocha ice storm, a turkey & swiss croissant sandwich and a huge slice of chocolate bundt cake. That's right, the food hoarding has begun. I didn't waste any time. See how my drink is gone? That's because I drank it all before I had a chance to get home and take a picture.

Then I went to get the mail which has become my new "special time away" from home. I get my jeans on and head out past our lawn all the way to the mailbox! And today's mail... oooohhhh, today's mail.

My sweet, sweet soul sista Mandy made this amazing little hardcover book for me called "The People Who Love You." It is a compilation of all the girls on my Babycenter board that I started almost 3 years ago for girls like me who weren't immediately stuck down with pure joy at the onset of motherhood. They have become my closest friends, and I've never even met most of them in person. We talk every day about absolutely everything and they are my lifeline. This book includes pictures of all of them with little notes and jokes about each one, and how they miss me and are thinking of me during this hard time with Raya. And the last page includes a dear picture of my faithful loved ones. My husband, my little son... and Jeff Goldblum.
My other sweet, sweet soul sista Emily sent me a sunny polka dotted care package that consisted of: a gorgeous handmade wool flower headband for me, and a tiny matching one for Raya... a perfectly written note that hit every spot my heart needed, and a mix tape entitled "Crappy Days Mix." Words cannot begin to describe how much I loved everything in this box. Em, this is your thank you card. :) Thank you, thank you, thank you.


So, I decided that today is a day for a gratitude list. Here are the things that I'm currently, overwhelmingly grateful for.

My husband, who loves me so deeply and it shows in every little thing he does

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My happy, healthy Jude and his consistent 3-hour daily naps that save my life every afternoon

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My sister Melissa, and her thoughtful and clever view on life's tough situations

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My mom, who's help with Jude during these hard days has been so needed
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My Aunt Nancy, who always seems to have me in her thoughts and sends me emails that make me laugh

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My Babycenter sisters, for everything

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Emily and her continuous creativity and inspiration

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My mother in law, who drives 6 hours for visits and birthdays and has a wonderful way with Jude

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My crazy brother Daniel, who leaves messages on my voicemail like this one the other day: "Apparently when you leave a message on a cell phone, there's delivery options. Kinda like, either having a c-section, or a VBAC. Like you did. That's it."

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My new found appreciation for the tiniest of pleasures during the very small amounts of quiet time when my baby girl is actually sleeping: a cup of tea, an episode of Mad Men, a hot bath

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The pink Soothie pacifier that Raya now accepts on occasion

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Nordstrom coffee and delectables

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And despite everything she has put me through...

Raya, our pink frosting.

(And by the way missy, you're grounded until you are 15.)

Shapeshifting

It's almost 10 am and I'm usually sleeping in until around 10:30 after the longest night of fitful non-sleep with my newborn. But I can't seem to fall back to sleep this morning, there are so many things swirling around in my head. Pictures to edit, places I wish I could go, people to write back, thank you cards to mail, a 3rd birthday party to plan... it's endless. Just like the daily exhaustion I feel with this new tiny human who has taken over our household in a major way. And the way the days and nights just roll right into one another and I find myself wondering what month we are even in now. Just, endless. It feels like our own twisted version of Inception, where we are stuck in a nightmare and then fall into another, deeper level of nightmare and then is it possible? Oh yes, a third and fourth dimension of nightmare. So instead of laying in bed trying to sleep, I'm going to write it all out here and maybe that will make me feel like I've accomplished something today.

It was all going wonderfully until Raya turned 3 weeks old. The first 2 weeks were surprisingly easy: she slept well, she breastfed well, Jude adjusted well... I was focused on healing and keeping the household as neat and peaceful as possible, which was a breeze. Then Rhys went back to work and Raya went crazy. She didn't seem to be interested in sleeping anywhere but on my chest, which is difficult when you have a toddler that is dying to play catch outside. Then breastfeeding changed and she started to become fussy and would choke, gag and spit out milk while she was eating. After extensive online research I realized I had an overactive letdown and oversupply of milk, which means I create a "baby beer bong" experience for my newborn where she is desperately trying to handle the amount of milk being forced at her. Which causes latching issues, which causes gas, which causes more fussiness. After a few hundred calls in to the lactation consultants I started to block feed her to regulate my milk supply which is just now, almost 5 weeks later, starting to work. But wait! Then, about a week later, a green slime debuts in her diaper which indicates a lactose or other food intolerance. After more Googling I found that an oversupply of milk can mean a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance. Since Raya can't possibly ever drain a boob fully, she never gets to the high fat hindmilk and is overloaded with the foremilk which is sugary and high in lactose and in large amounts can cause a secondary, real lactose intolerance. After two weeks of this and not seeing a change in her diapers, we went to the pediatrician. She said the green may be a hindmilk issue but the slimy indicated a food allergy of some kind and put me on an elimination diet. Which means I cannot eat dairy, soy, eggs, fish, nuts, berries, caffeine or citrus. Hello? Please find me something to eat because I'M FLIPPIN' STARVING OVER HERE. Trying to find food made without dairy or soy is impossible, people. I'm currently living on chocolate Cheerios, rice milk, spaghetti, turkey patties, chicken, bacon, hash browns, rice, watermelon and root beer. Seriously, every one of my meals includes one or more of these things. This elimination diet makes me want to eliminate someone, if you get my drift.

It has been 5 weeks of this diet and we are just now seeing a tiny bit of change in her diapers, but sadly not in her fussy, non-sleeping mood. Raya has pretty severe colic and is not a fan of sleep. She fights it all day long. For 30 or so minutes after eating, she is a smiley happy baby that loves to chat and look around. She is quite precious and adorable. Then she starts getting tired and we try endless efforts to soothe her into a nap, which usually works eventually. But then she wakes up within 10-30 minutes. The sound of her starting to stir and fuss within 15 minutes of an exhausting series of tricks to put her to sleep is depressing beyond words. (This baby hates the bouncer, the swing, the pacifier, all 3 of my infant slings, the new bassinet we tried, white noise machines, being swaddled, and car rides.) We try to soothe her back to sleep, which usually doesn't work well. Repeat 100 times during the day and then flash to 8 pm to find me crying in a bathroom because Rhys left for work 7 hours ago and I've done this alone with Jude hanging onto one leg and I just can't take it anymore. I miss my old life, I miss my husband and my charming and hilarious little man. Rhys has been sleeping on the couch for weeks, since he has to function at work every day with a bunch of kids on squeaky violins. And he needs to be able to take Jude to the park and put dishes away and cook dinner (yes, he does all of this. He is the best husband ever.) So. I'm with Raya all night long, by myself, trying to get her to eat a full meal and then sleep a nice chunk of time for me so I don't go insane and fire bomb my neighbor's house just to release some tension. I also fought off a painful plugged milk duct which made me temporarily lose my milk supply, and have been fighting off the nagging temptation to just go buy that special, really expensive baby formula and see if that "cures" her. Then maybe we'd be able to step outside of our home and actually see the light of day. But then I think, look how far we've come. Jude only breastfed for three weeks before landing us in the ER due to 24 hours of spitting up everything I made. That diagnosis? Overeating.

This truly is the hardest thing I have ever done.

But the hardest part is not knowing when it will end. Or if there is anything I can do to make her stomach feel better other than give up every comfort food I need right now to pull me through this. I need Oreos and caprese salad and sushi and cupcakes and angel hair alfredo and mocha ice storms from Nordstrom in the WORST WAY these days. But hey, some good news: I'm 5 pounds lighter than I was pre-pregancy. So when I'm off this diet, watch out world. I have dangerously ambitious gorging plans ahead. Another plus is that I do not have postpartum depression to fight this time, which would have made this hard situation completely impossible. I have what my clever ob/gyn likes to call, "situational stress."

Tomorrow we have an appointment with a pediatric GI specialist. I'm really hoping he doesn't look at her diaper and say "Yep, that's baby poop alright." Because I really need someone to give me an answer of some kind. And for the $250 bill we'll be receiving, I need something substantial to hold on to. A dozen glazed donuts, perhaps?