baby isaac

Ivar has a bit of trouble sharing the spotlight. We had my cousins Kathy and Mark over recently with her baby (her baby shower just doesn't feel that long ago!)and were watching Elsie and Isaac have some tummy time. Ivar looked at us watching the babies, yelled, "Tummy Time!" and got between them to show us how he has mastered this very basic skill.

And then we were taking pictures of the babies side by side... And then we were taking pictures of the babies and Ivar side by side.

 

Today Kathy is taking her boards for med school. She started her tests at 7:30 am and will be done at 6:30 pm. I texted her this afternoon letting her know that I had changed seven diapers since she began her test. That's how long she's been sitting in that chair!

 

So proud of her. Can't wait to celebrate having this day behind her!

 

And, I'd like to dedicate this post to my Aunt Louie who said to me on the phone today, "Where are you? I check your blog everyday." So here I am. Thanks for looking for me, Aunt Louie.

 

Hope's Kitchen

So my friend Melanie (pictured below) started an incredible blog with recipes that are gluten, egg and nut free. It is a beautiful blog, full of heart with a simple mission to provide good food for families working around these allergies. The thing is, the recipes always look so good that her following is growing to folks with no allergies, but who just like good food. Check it out at www.hopeskitchen.info Pretty sure the cookie dough bites are the best idea ever...egg free!

There is a mom website called circleofmoms that has a HUGE following...6 million moms. Each year they sponsor a contest for the Top Food Allergy Mom Blogs. The top 25 get a a little "badge" to put on their site and they keep a list on their site so that many more moms can find help on these blogs.

Hope's Kitchen is in the running to be a part of this helpful list. It is a resource pool for mom's looking for allergy friendly blogs. And she needs our votes!

If you'd like to vote, please click on this link and then look for Hopes Kitchen. This morning she was number 91 and tonight she's number 55! You can vote once a day and it is easy peasy...just click on the thumbs up button to the right of her bio. (it will make sense when you see it...)

 

And then vote each day!

 

 

hey. remember when...

                                                                                            This picture was taken on our 7 year anniversary. :)

I think I may have written about this before.

About five years ago we were in San Francisco with our friends John and Shannon. We were walking around downtown after we had supper and I felt something hit my head. I brushed the spot where it hit and sparks and ashes flew from my hair.

A cigarette butt had been tossed from the balcony above. The guy was flustered and sincerely apologetic. He was just one story up and kept saying how sorry he was.

This moment now comes up with John and Shannon every so often when I feel there is a good lull in the conversation. I'll casually mention, "Hey. You guys remember when a cigarette butt landed on my head?"

And we laugh.

Well. I have a new one.

Friday night we loaded the kids up for a thrilling night of Menards, Arby's drive thru and a car wash. And in all honestly, I was excited about our Friday night plans. Menards felt like a good adventure and I do love an automatic car wash. And curly fries.

As we were driving down our road I told Rory my back was really itchy. And as we got our Arby's it was increasingly so. We ate our Arby's on a yard bench on display at Menards and were laughing at our sorry selves. Ivar was filthy from a day of play and had ketchup all over his face. Rory was trying to feed himself, hold the bag of food and feed Ivar while I kept walking around saying how I must have gotten bit up by something because my back was so irritated. I made Rory look and he commented that it was red, but probably from all of my scratching.

We left Menards after picking out a window and door and went to get the car washed. At this point my back was starting to feel warm. Sort of a burning feeling. The carwash was exciting. Ivar was terrified and squeezed his eyes shut most of the time, Elsie was crying and I kept rubbing my lower back.

It was only on the drive back to our house that Rory remembered something. Something that might have been helpful to remember much earlier in the night. And his recollection came out slowly and with horror. "Oh Becca. Ohhhh. Becca. I know why your back is burning. Oh Becca. You are sitting in battery acid. Oh my word. You are. I returned that big battery the other day and it left the seat wet. I forgot all about it. We have to get you in the shower. Immediately."

And then we were both silent and Rory drove a bit faster. My mouth hung open and I was strangely amused. Less at the fact that I was sitting in battery acid, and more at the fact that it took Rory two hours of errands to finally remember that he had placed a battery on that seat the day before, the cause for my complaining that had been a part of our whole evening together.

When I got out he saw that the metal stitching on the seat had been eaten away. And later when he poured a solution of water and baking soda on the seat to neutralize the acid, he had a volcano of bubbles that would trump any forth grade science fair project.

I have a little rash now with some bright red dots and bumps, but its actually pretty minor.

So when Rory came to bed that night I let him get comfortable and then leaned in, "Hey. Remember that time I sat in battery acid?"

some sweetness for your monday

Elsie,

You are growing so fast! At your two month appointment you came in at 13 pounds 15 ounces. The rolls on your legs are adorable. You are a good eater, and today we're trying to figure out what I am eating that is upsetting your tummy. Might be the peanuts and corn candy mix I munched all weekend. Or the apple cider we sipped each night. But today I am choosing a very basic diet with hopes that your tummy will stop cramping. You don't like having an upset tummy.

 

Your eyes are so bright and able to track us all around the room. We talk a lot to each other in coo's and goo's. And sometimes you startle yourself with how loud your talking voice can be.

 

In the morning I bring you into bed to lay on my chest. We can get an extra hour of sleep that way. I love the snuggle time and your sweet breathing that puts me back to sleep. If your head comes up I softly rub your back and coax you back to sleep. It is the best way to slowly wake up. (Though I am never quite ready to wake up.)

 

You are definitely my sidekick. You join me on Sunday nights for Bible study and get to be held by all sorts of new friends. The first night you had a blow out right on one lady's blouse. It was quite the first impression and later I offered to pay for the dry cleaning. But she didn't seem to mind. They all had babies once and love the chance to hold you in their arms, letting you grip their fingers, looking into your eyes.

 

This month we are going to decorate your nursery. I am so excited and have dreams and visions in my head that will be fun to create.

 

I love you to pieces, Elsie Rebecca. You are pure sweetness and I still can't believe I have a little girl. A daughter. What a joy.

Love,

your mama

harvest time

 

 

 

 

 

Earlier this week Ivar walked outside with me and said, "Oh! Nice Day!" And yesterday he was playing in the garage by himself when he put his mouth on the screen of the door and yelled at me in the kitchen, "Mama! Shoes On! Outside!"

So that's where we've been. And it's a good thing we've been soaking up each day, because today the temperature dropped and I quickly remembered the season that is just around the corner.

Here's what we've been up to:
+We go on cow hunts two or three times a week now. When cars go by our house Ivar seems to think they also are going on cow hunts. A truck will drive by and he'll point saying, "See cows?"

+One of our favorite farms to visit is just a mile up the road. I saw the farmers wife outside and thought I had better introduce myself so that she would know why that mysterious black jeep is always parked next to her pasture. She was so kind and invited us into her calf barn to see "Baby Cows!" It is all Ivar talks about now.

+Actually, he talks about baby cows and "Combines!" The combine came through our field on Saturday and Rory and I were so excited that we woke Ivar up from his nap. Ivar is the perfect kid to have on this adventure with us. At Elsie's 2 month doctor appointment there were three combines in the field working right out the lobby windows. Could you ask for greater waiting room entertainment?

+On Sunday morning Rory dressed Ivar and they were matchy matchy. Adorable. Jeans and blue plaid.

+We had Groves cousins over this weekend and jumped in leaves. Ruby calls box elder bugs Sweetie Pies. She seems to think they're adorable. We have a whole lot of Sweetie Pies around our house and I was grateful for the opportunity to reframe my opinions of these spawning bugs.

+While they were here Rory had his folks help him put one wall up at his build site. A barn raising of sorts...  And the foundation and floor made for a great stage for Toby to show us his roller shoe skills.

+The landscape is changing around here with the corn down and leaves falling. Today I stayed in all day with the kids, read books with Ivar in a blanket fort and made chili and corn bread for supper. I love this time of year.

elsie's baptism

While we had the whole Harrington family gathered, we had Elsie baptized. She was baptized on the deck of the fish house at the cove.  Jedd had started the fire earlier that morning in the potbelly stove, so it was nice and toasty warm. We used water from Lake Superior that was warmed a bit and placed the water in the same pottery bowl that was used for my own baptism. I liked that it was water from Lake Superior, not that it makes any difference. It's not magic water that does the baptizing, it is God's promises to his children, claiming them, and the parent's promises to God, claiming Him and publicly professing that this child is God's kid. And we will raise her know her Maker.

Annika, Jedd, Sonna and Simon are Elsie's sponsors. Sonna was quite nervous before the baptism, but I told her there was nothing to worry about. All she had to do was say, "Yes!" I promise to pray for Elsie. "Yes!" I promise to teach her about Jesus. "Yes!" I promise to tell her why I believe in Jesus and show her how to read her Bible so that she too can learn of God's love.

Elsie fell asleep just as the service was beginning, and startled her arms a bit when Grandpa Paul placed the water on her head. But she was very peaceful, just as peaceful as the water on the lake.

You can read about Rory and my decision to baptize and dedicate our kids by clicking here.

harrington family reunion

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just got back from four days on the North Shore with the Harrington family. It was so awesome that today I am feeling homesick. And I'm home! But Mat and Stephanie flew home yesterday, Uncle Mark, Aunt Jane, Yang Yang and Nui Nui had left the day before and now everyone is back to work and school. And I miss them!

There are nine kids in the Harrington clan, ages eight and under:
2 months old: Elsie
1 year old: Ivar
2 years old: Svea (turned two on Friday!)
3 years old: Nui Nui
4 years old: Nellie
5 years old: Sonna
6 years old: Simon
7 years old: Mara
8 years old: Claire

Pretty amazing to me. Mara and Claire used their time on the drive home yesterday to braid their hair together, as in, they put their heads together and braided chunks of each of their hair into one braid. These cousins love each other so much.

Much more to tell, and share. More later.

shopping for sunglasses

 

Anyone else have an identity crisis when you go to pick out a pair of sunglasses?

 



As I try on each pair I begin to wonder, Who am I? Am I girl who can wear aviators? Who can wear aviators? I saw that woman at Lake Harriet that day with an awesome pair of aviators, but maybe those were expensive. What makes sunglasses expensive? Isn't it just plastic and metal. Or what about these? The big purple plastic frames that are back from the eighties. Is it right that these are back so soon? And if I wear these does it look like I'm trying to keep up with the trends? Should I be? Is it bad that my favorite outfit is flip flops, hoodie sweatshirt and jeans? Should I try harder?

And after I tucker out from trying so many pair I begin to look at myself in the mirror, without sunglasses. You look really tired. You've got some dark circles under those eyes. That's not hair gel holding that clump of hair together. It's spit up. You are a mother of two. How in the world? And I wonder if I'll ever feel like a grown up and how if I have two kids, I probably should know what my style of sunglasses is by now.

Then I start to look at all of the fine lines and wrinkles around my eyes. Annika recommended that night time face cream. You should get some when you're here. But it was like twenty-five bucks. Rory would probably love you more if  you just saved that money...

Just grab a pair.

And in the end I seem to always buy the most non-descript pair of sun glasses that are sure to be sat on or lost within the next few weeks anyway. And then I'll be back in that same spot, having the same identity crisis.

messes

Life is exciting with an almost two-year-old around. Ivar is really gifted at finding creative things to do with his time while I am nursing. The more quiet he gets the more certain I am that I will have a photo opportunity waiting for me.

Those are all nice words I have chosen to explain that Ivar is a tornado. He leaves a path of destruction everywhere he goes and I am always cleaning up his messes. This first picture is all of our paper products. Clearly he was sitting in the middle as he spread out the plates and silverware. Please keep this picture in mind if you are ever over at my house and I serve you anything on paper. You may kindly ask for an actual plate and fork.

This is pretty normal for an almost 2 year old...unrolling the toilet paper. But below you'll see a mess that is a bit more original. He got the full and open can of pineapple off of the counter, pulled it down (that's juice on the floor), put some pineapple in each of these Ivar bowls and ate the entire can. I only found out about this mess when he ran into the living room with guilt and glee and a very sticky face, feet and fingers yelling, "No! Pie Apple! All gone! No!"

I don't always get the camera for Ivar's messes. Only the ones that make me grin a bit. I didn't get the camera when Ivar dumped his alphabet crayons onto my three-day-old laptop last week leaving bits of wax covering the keyboard. Nope. No picture of that mess. And thankfully no video with audio either. I was mad. Could only blame myself, but that didn't make me any less mad.

 

In the end, the laptop is fine, the paper products never get used anyway, the toilet paper is reusable, Ivar loves pineapple and somehow I have the joy of watching this little boy discover and learn each day. He makes me laugh so hard.

 



 

 

good news, good news, bad news, good news

I have the happiest news to share: Toonces found a home! At least when I went to the Humane Society webpage his picture was gone and the lady on the phone said that means he was adopted. I am just going to take her at her word and celebrate this news.

I tell you what, I checked that page many a time, only to end up crying myself to sleep. (I loved him a lot, plus I've got hormones like you wouldn't believe...and I'm sleep deprived!) But now he is living a new adventure and certainly giving lots of good snuggles, licks and motor purrs to his new owner.

More good news! FARM CATS! They are awesome! They live outside and you just don't know when they're going to show up. This one came out of the woods the day we were clearing all the of the trees we had just taken down the day before. He's so scrawny and was so sweet and affectionate. Rory wanted his name to commemorate the trees we were clearing out. I thought the name Chainsaw was perfectly ironic for such a mild, skinny, calm cat. Heh. I make myself laugh. Hearing Ivar say Chainsaw is the best.

But then we had sad news. Our neighbors two houses down came to introduce themselves and then told us they were going to take a bunch of cats to the humane society because their dogs were barking at them in the night and keeping them up. We had just met these neighbors and I didn't know what to say..."but hey, I love those cats that keep you up at night...especially the one I named Chainsaw."

But since Chainsaw was taken away, two more cats have appeared. And that's the final good news. Because farm cats just keep multiplying I'm finding out. And if you put a little dish of milk out for them, they'll come back every time.

cow hunts

With Ivar's love for cows, we have added a new pastime to our family adventures: cow hunts. We try to find gravel roads we haven't been on before and look for cows. It is the very best way to fill that sometimes very long hour between supper and bedtime. John Denver sings to us about country roads and being a country boy and we take in a setting sun, mooing cows, our beautiful new neighborhood, and a very happy boy in the back seat. 

how elsie got her name

This picture? Come on. I love this girl so much.

Elsie Rebecca Groves is a sweet, sweet girl. Full of smiles and eyes that beg you to keep looking at her sweet self. She has started to babble back a bit, and I got a good breathy laugh out of her the other day when I kept quickly sticking my tongue out like a lizard. She is a joy.

So here's how Elsie got her name. First, her middle name is after...me. I had someone ask me that. Made me laugh. But here's the thing. My dad and brother share a middle name. My mom and sister share a middle name. And I, as the third child, did not share my middle name with anyone. This bothered me so that when we got our cat, Emily, when I was 9 or 10, I made sure everyone knew that Emily's middle name was Ann, just like me. I shared my middle name with the cat.

For Elsie, rather than Ann, I went with Rebecca. I liked how it sounded with Elsie. And this way Elsie also shares her middle name with two wonderful ladies: Svea Rebecca, my awesome niece who got in trouble today at daycare for being too silly during naptime entertaining the other kids, and Bailey Rebecca, my amazingly talented goddaughter who loves color and art just as much as I do. Elsie Rebecca is in great company sharing a middle name with these great ladies.

Her first name was chosen the day I read the following email from my Grandma. Annika had asked Grandma about sister Elsie and Grandma replied with this description of her sister. I loved that Elsie was a storyteller. (And by Grandma's retelling, it is obvious that Grandma, too, was a great storyteller.) I wasn't pregnant yet, but Rory and I were talking a lot about babies and names and the next season to come. After I read this email we decided on Elsie as our girls name.

I am going to copy and paste Grandma's exact email. I love how it reads in Grandma's voice.

My sister,  Elsie was born in 1915,  I, in 1918, we were considered four years apart?  Floyd was in between us.  She seemed much older than I. She was a great story teller. When our little brother Wayne appeared, he often slept with Elsie and I and she was always ready to tell stories. Her stories were fantastic. Little tiny people, only and inch and a half tall, that could live in an elephants ear, or a lions mane. They could climb trees, really bushes and hide from spiders and ants.  She could make all kinds of sounds that no one else could say. 

But I was a little jealous of her, it seemed she got to do the fun things, like sewing or baking and I had to do the dishes or dusting. She learned to make carmel rolls when she was about 13 and she sold them for 25cents a dozen to the ladies in town.  When one lady said that was too much, Elsie quit.  It cost more than that to bake them and deliver them—we were happy, then we got to eat them.  All bread was home-made either rye or white buns.

One day I was given the task to make pie dough.  I did get the flour and lard crumbled together but then I cried—this will never make pie dough.  Elsie and Mother were sewing in the other room and Mom asked Elsie to go and rescue me.  Elsie was very disgusted—all I had to do was add water.  Bet that dough was tough.

Elsie’s first year of High School was spent in Dunnell. There she learned the most wonderful ability to wrap a package perfectly—square corners, perfect.  I thought that was all she needed to know.  Her second year she worked for her board and room at Brodts in Sherburn. For her third year, Uncle Fred thought she could go and live with his children in Fairmont and go to a much better school.  He and Aunt Carrie had moved to a farm and the kids were to finish the year in Fairmont. Cousin Gladys was attending ‘Teachers college’ in Mankato and Elsie could ride heard on Arlin and Minnie who were younger till she got home each evening,  Elsie spent her fourth year living with Dr. Zemkes , working for her board and room.  They loved her rolls. 

A little brother had been born that spring. And Elsie stayed at home to help Mother the next year. Then off she went to Swedish Hospital in the cities for nurses training.  While there, the nurses had the privilege of attending parties for the men in training at Fort Snelling.  What did she do but fall in love with one, named Charles Cash.  She brought him to the farm to meet the family and ask for her hand.  Of course Dad thought he was fine and said, yes. They spent that Christmas Eve with Phil and I at our home.  Janice was a tiny baby.  I remember laying there listening to an excited sister who couldn’t sleep for joy. 

They were married that spring. Charles was an officer and  they were sent to Kansas City for a year or so and then to California and to the south east part of the states.  After the war they returned to Kansas City. Elsie and the boys spent many summers with the folks and us. Elsie was a great volunteer—in church, Cub scouts, after their two sons were grown she sewed many little dresses and shirts for the Needle Work Guild that were sent to needy children in other countries. Then she decided to go back to nursing—went for a refresher course and worked for many years at a hospital. 

She and Chuck sold their home and moved to Arizona in the eighties. She was with us when Mother died in Venture Out the Christmas of ’84.  They built a home in Sun City,  Elsie fell while walking to the car, stumbling over the cement retainer and broke her hip. That soon healed, and I had the privilege of staying with her a week while she gained her strength back. We had such a good time—but-- her leukemia that had been in remission for a few years came back with a vengeance.  She went to be with her Lord September 8, 1990


***
To read how Ivar got his name, click here.

yellow soybeans

We've lived in our new house for a little over one month now and actually feel very settled. In a lot of ways it feels like we have been here a whole lot longer. With a new baby, this is quite remarkable. Many have commented on how organized our house is already. Every box has been unpacked or categorized in the garage for storage. I impress myself. The house looks great.

But something happened when I saw the first of the soybeans begin to turn. I know that sounds so stupid, but I'm not kidding. I was driving to Target about a week or so ago and I saw the a little patch of yellow in the middle of all of the green and I took a big, huge deep sigh and dropped my shoulders. It was a physical reaction. And whatever supernatural, miraculous maternal adrenaline I was given in order to make this move and have this baby just disappeared. In that moment I hit my wall. I ran out of steam. And I am so dog tired.

It was awesome while it lasted, but it means that now I have to go to bed way earlier. And I should take a nap when I can. And I really don't need to sort and organize more boxes for a long, long time. And I probably should start exercising, cutting back on dr. pepper and making sure I eat foods that will give me energy. Which is a bummer, because mint chip ice cream is so good.

So the plan now is to take it easy this fall and hibernate this winter. Just hole up and never go anywhere.

Wouldn't that be wonderful?

life lately

 

Life is so full. And we are so grateful.

Here's what you're seeing in the pictures:

We had our friends Rachel and Andrew over with their two little boys. It meant we had three boys under the age of two at our house. Which meant that by the end of the evening all parents and children were wrestling on the living room floor.

We stop the car for cows now. Every time. Because it is a big deal. A bigger deal is when we don't see any cows for a long time. Temper tantrums are thrown from carseats, yelling for Cows! More Cows! So much that now he is starting to get in trouble for throwing too big of a fit if we don't happen to be driving by any cow farms.

The woman we bought our house from is wonderful. So wonderful that she organized a neighbor gathering for us at our home so that we could meet all of our new neighbors and she could do the introductions. It was a true gift. You know how I love community.

Our friends Mark and Julie came out and helped us thin some hosta, mow down the meadow and cut down six trees. Yes, that is a black walnut being chopped up into one foot pieces. And yes, we will never hear the end of it. And yes, we will invite all woodworking relatives to our place the next time we take a black walnut tree down and they can haul the whole tree away in their truck to their own board cutters. But people, we do not have a truck or a board cutter and could not have a fallen tree in our yard for an indefinite period of time. Okay? Okay.

I've been painting! On big canvas! And based on the painting book I loved so much, I am not becoming too attached to the outcome too soon. So I have lots and lots of layers added in, picking out my favorite parts and repeating those on the canvas, only to come back and paint over it all again and again. I tell you what. I smile the whole time I'm painting. It may very well only be for me, and it may very well never be a super developed gift, but man I have a good time when I'm painting.

We talk a lot about being gentle lately. Ivar repeats all day long: MamaDaddoBaby. Like a little cadence from activity to activity. But he also has said with a big helpful smile and bright eyes, "Elsie. Down. Cradle?" as if it say, "hey guys! here's a great idea. let's put her away so we can play." They will be pals though. Elsie is now locking eyes with us and it is awesome. She smiles and responds and we cannot get enough.

loads of laundry

Adding a child to the family and moving houses has caused a few necessary adjustments in how we live our daily life. But the thing that I am having the most trouble getting used to is the laundry.

Holy moly. It blows my mind. Adding a tiny baby and moving to the farm has somehow quadrupled my weekly laundry. We all get dirty and sweaty outside and often each require two outfits a day. And we girls seem to have a knack for covering ourselves in spit up which also requires a costume change. Rory and I sometimes shower twice a day, depending on what project he is working on outside and how stinky my hair is after a day of spit up. So towels are always running out too.

It's amazing.

Just thought I'd share.

the aunts

On Tuesday my Aunt Louie, Aunt Annie and my mom came to our house for a morning visit.  From start to finish, they nurtured me. And I soaked up every minute of care and love and kindness. It started around the kitchen table eating Louie's zucchini chocolate chip cake with Culver's custard. Which was sublime. Annie brought me a colorful, beautiful bouquet from her garden and gladiolas so that I could make an arrangement.

Louie brought the August edition of The Machinery Trader from Uncle Jake and Aunt Annie left sweet corn from her garden for us to have for supper. I gave them a tour of our property and a tour of our house, and when we were upstairs I sat down to nurse Elsie. They found my three laundry baskets full of clean laundry, hidden behind our bed and as I nursed I watched these women fold every single item, and then they put everything away. It made me tear up I was so grateful.

It was treasured, sweet time, mixed with a real heaviness as the absence of Aunt Jan was so obvious. Especially when we were sitting at the kitchen table. I felt such a hollow sadness in my heart. An ache that will never really go away.

These are the glads Annie brought from her garden. Beautiful.

 

Later that night Rory opened his top drawer and commented, "wow, honey. You really are stepping up your game. Folded underwear? This is amazing."



some thoughts on nursing

I hope you see the humor in this picture with this post. This cow lives right around the corner from us and as I was looking for a fitting image I decided to picture her with this post instead of me or my children. :)

Well the title should be enough of a heads up for anyone not interested in this topic just to skip this post. But I want to write about this...and have wanted to since Elsie was one week old. And then last night I was with a great group of women at my sister's house and the topic came up again and confirmed that I want to throw my experience out there.

When my cousin Kathy's baby was just a week and a half old, I went to visit. And I said something like, "isn't breastfeeding the most amazing, beautiful and wonderful gift? I loved every second with Ivar."

I meant what I said. And I still feel this way with my whole heart. But then when I had Elsie I had a lot of trouble during that first week. And the words I had spoken to Kathy haunted me with every attempt to feed my baby. It wasn't feeling amazing, beautiful or wonderful. It felt more like ten million razor blades attacking me in one very sensitive spot all at once. It hurt so bad.

And I was awkward. I hadn't counted on having to relearn how to breastfeed with baby number two. I think I assumed I'd be well seasoned after ten months with baby number one. But Elsie was a new baby, and we had to learn everything again together.

My time feeding Elsie in the hospital went fairly well. Usually there was a nurse nearby who could help us get started. But even before we went home I felt less than confident. I had the lactation specialist come by and help. And that was sort of helpful, but I left the hospital concerned.

And as it played out the next 48 hours were really, really tough. Physically, it hurt like crazies. Can't even put it into words. Her latch was little, and I was exhausted.

But emotionally it was killing me. Elsie cried hard because she was hungry. And I knew I was the only one who could feed her. It was my job. And it wasn't working. So as she cried, I did too. It made me sad not to be able to do the thing that would help calm her down and fill her up.

Rory called the lactation specialist from the hospital and had me talk to her again. And we also called an independent lactation specialist we found through google who would do home visits. One was very helpful and the other just told stories of her own kids. Which was frustrating.

But before we had the woman come to our home, my milk came in and somehow Elsie and I started to figure out how to work together to get the job done. I wish I could say, "and then we tried... and it saved the day..." But it wasn't any one thing. I think everything just sort of clicked for us. (Though belly to belly is key. And I had to get rid of the boppy...it brought Elsie up too high. And I started taking deep breaths and dropping my shoulders right before I brought her to my chest.)

In the end, we figured it out. But not without a whole lot of tears from both mom and baby. It was a really hard way to start out our days together.

However, now, five weeks later, I can confidently say it was all worth it. Of course it was. Nursing is such a treasured time. I love that every three hours I have to stop, put my feet up and adore my baby. And I love the miracle that happens every time I walk into her nursery half-dead in the middle of the night, and how when I see her I am instantly overcome with love and affection and happiness. I still fall asleep in the glider rocker as soon as she is latched on, but for that sweet moment when we see each other, it actually feels like love sweeps over the room.

That's what I was trying to tell Kathy that day. But I also should have told her that it can also feel like ten million razor blades too.

Two closing thoughts:

I was talking to my sister about this last night after everyone left her house. Annika tried for a very long time to get her first born to latch on. But nothing worked. She had lots of consultants help, tried the little tiny cup, but in the end Annika pumped every four hours for six months (!!!) and fed her with a bottle. And that worked too. It wasn't her first choice, but I remember being so proud of her and the stamina it took to pump six times a day and bottle feed every three hours and wash all of the equipment for the next pump. It was a true commitment. And then her next two babies latched on right away.

And finally, this is my personal story with breastfeeding, but I make no judgements on moms, no matter how they feed their baby. I am fully aware that there are tons of factors unique to each mom and baby that determine the best plan for feeding that little kiddo. And whether it was breastfeeding or bottle fed, there is no greater sound than a big juicy burp that lets you know this baby is well fed.

a case of the mondays

 

Rory put my sweatshirt on Ivar and sent him into the kitchen to show me. At first Ivar was laughing, but in the time it took for me to get my camera, the sleeves fell down and Ivar lost his hands and freaked out. Which made for a great picture.

I wrote about one trying Monday here. For some reason Mondays are always a bit hairy. Which is funny to me as a stay-at-home mom. You'd think Monday would feel no different than any other day of the week when you're home and keeping nap schedules and feeding tiny mouths. But somehow everyone knows it's the start of a new week and it takes a day to get back into the groove.

Last Monday Rory came up to me, gave me a hug and said, "if you want to get all new make up, we could make that happen." I thought he was trying to cheer me up, help me feel a bit prettier with this baby weight, or was simply acknowledging how hard I'm working.

Later in the day I walked into the bathroom and spotted all of my makeup in the trash. I picked up my (wet) powder brush and yelled to Rory, "why is my make up in the garbage?"

He replied very quickly, "Don't touch it! I found it all in the toilet!"

And that is why I am getting all new makeup.