Oct 12 2007

Two Months Old

We’re back from the doctor’s office—Baby got his shots (OH THE BETRAYAL) while we got our flu vaccines squirted up our noses. Robin’s 23 inches long now and almost 12 pounds. The doc pronounced him “perfect,” which was nice since we did have a question: he has a little bump behind his right ear. He’s had it for most of his life, we just forgot to ask about it at the last visit. Turns out it’s a harmless cyst: it may go away or it may not, but they say it’s nothing to worry about unless it gets big enough to be a cosmetic issue.

Nobody commented on my last post, so no pictures today for you.


Oct 7 2007

Two Stories

…and three links, the first two about the same story. Postpregnancy cosmetic surgery is on the rise, according to the New York Times, which explains:

Aimed at mothers, it usually involves a trifecta: a breast lift with or without breast implants, a tummy tuck and some liposuction. The procedures are intended to hoist slackened skin as well as reduce stretch marks and pregnancy fat.

‘The severe physical trauma of pregnancy, childbirth and breast-feeding can have profound negative effects that cause women to lose their hourglass figures,’ [one surgeon] said. His practice, Marina Plastic Surgery Associates, maintains a Web site, amommymakeover.com, which describes the surgeries required to overhaul a postpregnancy body.

Or, as Jezebel comments:

Hey, so here’s something you may be aware of: when a woman goes through the life-changing and completely natural event of giving birth, afterwards, her body doesn’t always look the same as it did before!…The problem is that these surgeons—mostly men—market their procedures by making the postpartum body seem horrifyingly disfigured and abnormal.

Third link, second story: The Shape of a Mother, a site that collects pictures of postpartum bodies.

It occurred to me that a post-pregnancy body is one of this society’s greatest secrets; all we see of the female body is that which is airbrushed and perfect, and if we look any different, we hide it from the light of day in fear of being seen. That makes me want to cry. Sure we all talk about the sagging boobs and other parts, but no one ever sees them. Or if they do, it’s in comical form, mocking the beauty that created and nourished our children.

It is my dream, then, to create this website where women of all ages, shapes, sizes and nationalities can share images of their bodies so it will no longer be secret.

I think this is very cool, but I don’t have anywhere near the stones to send in a picture of myself. Suffice it to say that while I’m only a few pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight, my body now has a very different shape. Like many of the other women, I’ve now got this weird, stretch-mark-scarred flap of extra skin and fat hanging down where I used to have only smooth tummy. In fact my waist is one of the things I always liked about my body: I put on weight on my boobs and butt and thighs, but I always had a waist. Now, not so much. I’m still gradually losing weight, but I just don’t know if that extra flap will ever go away.

It was interesting to me to encounter both of these stories within a few days. My take is that I’m glad surgery is an option for the women who want it, but I can’t ever imagine going under the knife myself. And I resent the notion that the only acceptable female body is the prepartum one, that a normal postpartum body is just gross and disgusting—even though I fight against those thoughts myself. It’s definitely going to take a while before I feel really comfortable in my postpartum skin. I will say, however, that Sam’s continued unabashed enthusiasm for my naked body is really really helpful. Thank heaven for incurable horndogs.


Oct 1 2007

Happy October!

kitty with pumpkins

October is my favorite month.  The kitty seems to like it too.


Sep 30 2007

On the Verge of a Breakthrough?

Three nights ago, Robin slept through his 3 am feeding—meaning he slept six hours, from 11 to 5. According to my baby book, this is defined as “sleeping through the night.” I was holding my breath to see if he would keep on doing it, but the past two nights I’ve been up at 3 as per usual. Still, it’s got to be a good sign! Maybe we’re on the verge of a sleeping breakthrough…

He’s smiling more too, several times a day now. It never fails to reduce Sam and me to gibbering idiots.


Sep 25 2007

Trodding the Well-Worn Path

So I’m relieved to find that my experiences are, once again, ones that about a million women have had before me. My mom says I was just like Robin at that age, fussy all the time; Dawn mentioned in the comments to my last post that her little boy was the same way; and the doctor told me today that babies are typically very crabby from about 6 to 10 weeks—something to do with their developing gastrointestinal system. Robin has been pretty farty lately, so maybe that’s it!

After keeping me up all night last night he’s been sweet today; my concern is keeping him awake so we don’t have a repeat. He did have to go in the sling for today’s check-in with the doc, which again sent him straight to sleep.

It was nice to see Dr. Berger again; she’s the one who delivered Robin, so her face may have actually been the first thing he ever saw. (He did not particularly seem to recognize her.) She complimented me on my weight loss and said my c-section scar looks good and that my ladyparts are pretty much back to normal. “Next time you can have a vaginal birth if you want,” she volunteered. “Oh no,” I said, “after 24 hours of labor I’m all about the c-section.”

She leaned in and dropped her voice. “I’m scheduling a c-section for my next one too. I’m not a fan of drama.”

“I’m not a fan of pain,” I said, and we shared a knowing chuckle. Then we talked about some girl stuff like S-E-X, and she sent me on my way. So I guess I’m officially all convalesced!


Sep 25 2007

Nominated For A Medal:

Sam, for parenting above and beyond the call of duty. Robin woke up last night at 3am and Wouldn’t. Go back. To sleep. Because Sam has to get up early and go to work, whereas I can (theoretically) catch a nap during the day, I generally take all the nighttime childcare duties. But I was falling apart by 5am, so lucky for me Sam voluntarily got up early and took over babyminding until he had to leave for work. Sleep never tasted so sweet! Yay Sam!


Sep 24 2007

What Do You Do With A Fussy Baby?

Robin’s entered a new stage of development. He now does more than eat and sleep: he’s alert for hours at a time. Unfortunately, during those hours, he wants to be entertained. Sometimes he can be soothed just by rocking, or looking at the mobile his daddy ginned up for him—out of a pair of chopsticks, a shoe string, a paper clip, and two origami cranes—but for a majority of the time he’s just fussy. Right now he’s bawling his little head off because I’ve fed him, I’ve changed him, I’ve walked with him, I’ve rocked him, I’ve sung to him and told him stories, and I am tired and so now I’m ignoring him, and good golly he is mad as heck about it.

The one thing that almost always quiets him is putting him in the sling and taking him for a walk, but this is because he instantly falls asleep. As soon as the walk is over and he’s awake again, he starts fussing. How do I get him to be happy during his alert time? Parents, give me your secrets, please!

Also my cat needs attention but I just can’t take her crawling all over me and meowing at me when I’ve spent all day catering to the whims of one needy mammal, so I just shoved her away and now I feel guilty about that too.

Good lord, why don’t they make ball gags for babies? I’m gonna start a business and make a million dollars.


Sep 18 2007

The Poop

So, although I don’t actually think much of the San Francisco Chronicle as a newspaper, I’m really enjoying their baby blog, “The Poop.” This post made me laugh, and all the comments about breastfeeding had me nodding vigorously in agreement. Just one more article to file under the category “lots of people already know everything I’ve recently learned.”

I can say that lactation for us has gotten much easier—latching on, at least, is a solved problem, and the nipple shield has been tucked away in the diaper bag and forgotten.


Sep 2 2007

Things Of Which I Do Not Approve

I know it’s a little weird to fixate on this when people are out there doing vastly more abusive things to their kids, but I haven’t been able to get this story out of my mind since I ran across it a couple days ago. That poor little boy! “It’s scary. It’s scary. It’s really scary. Can we go and come back when it’s not scary.” Gah! I hate that parent so much!

  • Piercing your toddler’s ears.

We attended a 4th of July barbeque last month where we noticed a little boy, barely old enough to walk—not quite old enough to navigate stairs—who was sporting a bright little earring. I privately disapproved, but apparently it’s a widespread trend: there’s a sign at our pediatrician’s office that says “Ask us about ear piercing!”

Maybe I’m just a prude, but body modification before the age of four??? I mean, I know he can let the piercing grow in, but it still leaves a mark. I feel like the kid should get to make his own decisions about permanent cosmetic alterations. What’s next, toddler tattooing?

And now, I’m off to make my own bad parenting decisions so that other people can criticize me on their blogs. It’s the Circle of Life, Internet-style.


Aug 30 2007

Things Robin Is Not

Robin and I have a new game. At the moment I have to do his part as well as my own, but someday I hope he’ll keep up his own end of the banter. It goes like this:

“Are you my little cutie-bug?”

No, Mommy, I’m a little baby!

“But are you my little hungry-bird?”

No, Mommy, I’m a little baby!

“But are you my little wiggly-worm?”

No, Mommy, I’m a little baby!

“But are you my little apricot?”

No, Mommy, I’m a little baby!

“Well then…are you my bonny, blithe, bouncing baby boy?”

Yes, Mommy! I’m YOUR little baby!

The game is of course infinitely expandable. In fact the apricot line is a recent addition; we gave Robin his first real bath yesterday (babies are only supposed to get sponge baths until the stump of the umbilical cord falls off) and we used the “Burt’s Bees” apricot-scented baby oil that Auntie Nina gave us. So now he smells just like a plump little apricot.