Blessings of convalescence

I'm trying to look at the bright side of recovering.

Last Wednesday, Jeff's mom was here, so she stayed at the house with Matt, and Jeff and I got to go to Ash Wednesday church. I love Lent church services.

Then I didn't change a single diaper for at least three days!

On Sunday, since I can't pick Matt up and I was safe from his grabby hands, I wore jewelry to church!  Engagement ring with diamonds prone to scratching pudgy baby limbs, earrings, and necklace.

I've been getting tons of sleep, from maybe 7:30 or 8 p.m. until 5:30 or 6 a.m.

While she was still here, Jeff's mom and I had tons of time to chat about things and talk about how great Matthew and Jeff are.

All my friends are visiting! Well, mainly so they can do the literal heavy lifting, but nonetheless it's been nice to hang out with Krista and Stephenie and kids the past couple days.

Jeff did a ton of things around the house last night, and I just lounged around and read and drank tea!

MOMS Club people have been bringing us delicious suppers that will last at least until next week.

So it's not all bad. But, yeah, it will be nice when I don't feel vaguely ill and exhausted and can give Matthew a decent cuddle again.

Half done with the other worst part

So, surgery is over. And now it's horrible recovery time. I'm thankful for how well the surgery went and how well recovery is going so far, but emotionally, it's difficult. Matthew just wants some cuddles from his mother, but I can't pick him up! And I can't really hold him, either, since that always involves him jabbing me in the stomach with his arms or legs. Poor little guy doesn't understand. He probably thinks I'm just a mean mom now who doesn't want to cuddle with him.

But anyway, I made it through getting the IV, though I did cry a little, and both of my hands and arms went numb briefly (the anesthesiologist told me to hold my breath as long as possible and it would fix it, and it did), the surgery itself of course was all a blank, and somehow I managed to stop feeling sick long enough to get in the car and come home. Once home, Jeff and his mom have been taking care of Matt and everything in the house, and I've just been sitting around or laying in bed, and MOMS Club Madison South people have brought suppers by.

Yesterday I didn't feel too bad––or too good––and last night I managed to get some sleep. I probably have slept half the day today, and I haven't taken any painkillers since 6 a.m., so that's going well. I only want to take painkillers at night if possible. And so far it's possible.

The best thing is that the incision site is super-glued shut, so I can shower already and not have to worry about bandaging the wound or cleaning it or anything. Also, the scar is smallish and on my bellybutton, so once the swelling and bruising go down, it might not even look like I've had surgery there.

Matt's napping hasn't been going so great. He's been sleeping all night, but he's been taking the dreaded 45-minute naps, from which he wakes up crying because he's not really ready to be done sleeping. Hopefully he won't get too derailed from his new, excellent sleeping routine. He's at the park now with Jeff and Grandma Alexy, probably swinging, which is his favorite. I tried to go for a little walk earlier but only made it a couple houses down the street. It was nice to be outside, though.

I kept thinking all day how it feels like something's missing from my day, and then I realized it's diaper changes! I haven't changed a diaper since Wednesday! It's so weird. That's a nice break, but I do wish I could just wash laundry and dishes and do all my other usual household tasks since it's easier for me than for Jeff.

And they're back from the park! Yay! Time to hang out for a while and then figure out what we're going to do on Monday and the days afterward...

Half done with the worst part

Half done with the worst part of surgery! I made it through the blood drawing yesterday! No passing out, only a little crying, no need for help walking to the car. The other half of the worst part will be getting the IV. I mean, sure, recovery is going to suck, but at least it won't involve needles.

In other news, Matthew's sleeping is continuing to go well. He got a solid 10 hours last night and 3 good naps today. He didn't cry for even a minute when I put him in the crib for the night, though he's still awake right now. He talked to himself happily about 10 minutes and now he's been fussing lightly for about 2 minutes. I'm sure he'll be sleeping by the time I finish this.

More things about the surgery: How lame is it that I can barely make it through having blood drawn? Don't answer that. I already know the answer: Very. But seriously. It makes me mad. I think it's getting worse as I get older, too. I mean, it's not the pain. I've had a million injuries from bike wrecks and jumping off stuff and doing stupid stunts, I've run three marathons, I've played multiple seasons of rugby and roller derby, I intentionally ran into my friends while sledding during college for fun, I gave birth completely unmedicated... but I can't have blood drawn without my leg or arm twitching uncontrollably and my eyes tearing up even if I'm fighting it? How does that make sense?

Also, I still just think it's unfair that I have a hernia considering I have always been known for having abs of steel. Argh.

And, to make things worse, I won't be able aquacise until April! Can't submerge the wound until then.

But on another happy note! (I like to intersperse the unhappy with the happy.) It's almost the weekend! Tomorrow Matt and I are going to Breakfast Bunch with one of the moms' groups, which is fun, then we'll get to hang out with Jeff all weekend!

Baby sleep chronicles, day 4

...and then last night, Tuesday, Matthew fell asleep within 7 minutes. I don't think Jeff even went in the room to comfort/reassure him. We heard a couple half-second sleep cries before we went to bed, then nothing all night long. I woke up at 2:45 a.m. and heard Matt moving around and making some little talking noises, but he just went right back to sleep! No crying at his usual 3 a.m. wakeup! Then he woke up at 5:40 a.m. and just jibber-jabbered to himself for a while before letting us know it was seriously time to get up.

The best thing that's happening here, other than Matthew sleeping longer and better, of course, is that now he wakes up happy most of the time. Sure, he's still crying a few minutes before falling asleep every time, but at least when he wakes up he's not crying. And his napping has improved dramatically. It's so much better for both of us for him to sleep longer during fewer naps. He gets enough rest and doesn't have to catnap every hour and a half, and I can actually get things done. It's amazing how much an extra half hour makes a difference. I'm hopeful we can stay on this 2-nap schedule instead of going back to 3+. We'll see. He's on nap #1 for today, and he fell asleep in half the time it's taken him for the past couple days' naps.

Baby sleep chronicles, day 3

The epic nap on Monday lasted 2 hours and 45 minutes! 

Monday night it took about 15 minutes for Matthew to fall asleep. He slept very peacefully except for the usual 3 a.m. wakeup, during which there was much crying (both of us. Probably Jeff secretly, too, for being tired of me waking him up to pray for us all every time Matt makes a peep in the night). But seriously, the crying. It breaks my heart. All I can do is think about how Matt's not hungry and he hasn't needed a single thing at 3 a.m. in weeks, probably months, and we have have have to help him get better sleep habits. So we made it through, and he woke up happy instead of crying.

Yesterday, only 2 naps! Woohoo! I'd love to stay on a 2-nap schedule. This 3- to 5-nap schedule is annoying, and Matthew seems to usually wake up crying because he's still tired. And each was about an hour and a half long. After the second one, Matt stayed awake a record 5 hours! He seemed sleepy for the last hour but wasn't too fussy. He demanded extra cuddles, which was nice. He's not really a cuddle baby. He's more of a "Let me down! I have places to go! I have to grab those things! And those things! And those other things!" kind of baby.

Baby sleep chronicles, day 2

So on Sunday, day 2 of baby sleep chronicles, Matthew took a nice, long nap with only 8 minutes of fussing beforehand. I think he slept an hour and forty minutes or so. His second nap on Sunday was also good, longer than usual, and he fell asleep after about 20 minutes of fussing. His third nap was okay but shorter than usual. All in all, success.

Sunday night we went through the routine, earlier than Saturday, at our ideal time of putting Matthew in the crib between 6 and 6:30. He fell asleep with less than 20 minutes of crying, with Jeff still checking on him and reassuring him, with me still hiding out in the bathroom with the fan on, talking on the phone. Matt fell asleep at 6:35, and he didn't get up for the day until 6:50 a.m. He had a slight crying jag somewhere around 3 again (the time I was previously trying to feed him, when he would only sometimes eat). I'm astounded. I'm just astounded.

Napping today has been good. Matt's on his second nap. The first one, I didn't think he should be tired yet, but he was, and he fell asleep after about 20 minutes of fussing. He only slept 35 minutes or so, though. The second nap... that's what he's doing now. He fussed about 8 minutes, cried about 2 minutes, talked to himself for a couple more minutes, then fell asleep. He's been sleeping for 2 hours and 5 minutes!

Yes––2 hours and 5 minutes!

Is my really-good-at-sleeping baby coming back? I hope so. I think if we stick to this routine, everything will be great. Even though it hurts me to hear Matt cry even a little bit, things are already so much better. I know we'll still have to get up in the night sometimes when he gets more teeth and whatnot, but I think we're on the right track now. Losing the pacifier immediately helped with daytime napping, and not rocking is helping even more. Two long naps are infinitely preferable to five short naps. And not getting up in the night makes the days so very much better.

Stay tuned for baby sleep chronicles, day 3, to see if tonight goes as well as last night. I have high hopes.

And... 2 hours and 10 minutes and counting!

Baby sleep chronicles, day 1

On January 20, I wrote, "I'm not sure what the plan is right now, but we'll have to have one soon. And stick to it even if I think it's too difficult."

The plan we made, I did in fact think was too difficult. But we're sticking to it. And we're helping Matthew learn how to fall asleep and keep sleeping. It's working beautifully so far, though there is some crying.

Our needs: For me to not have to rock Matthew to sleep. For Matt to be able to fall back asleep in the night when he wakes up.
Our wants: Longer naps.
Our hopes: Matthew to not need to eat in the night.

The plan requires me to be removed from the falling-asleep association, since I've been doing 100% of the rocking for weeks or months. (I'm not sure. It's all a blur.)

Plan: Do bedtime routine. It goes like this: Jeff bathe Matthew or sponge him off and change him into disposable diaper and pajamas. I feed him. We put him in his sleep sack. We sit in his room and sing a hymn. (This was a struggle the first couple days. Jeff and I are both such awful singers when there's no accompanying music. Oh so awful. It really gave me the giggles. But we persevere, and now I can sing without tittering the whole time.) We maybe read a book. This seems to rile Matt a little since he likes to get books in his little grabby hands and chew on them or just turn the pages. We say prayers.

Then I smooch Matt's face and leave the room. Jeff holds him a couple more minutes then puts him in his crib. Jeff leaves the room. I get in the bathtub with the fan on and read a book or call people, so as not to hear the crying. Jeff goes in and reassures Matthew every whatever number of minutes, in increasing intervals.

On Saturday, Matthew cried a lot. My heart was broken. He fell asleep after 45 minutes, which really was pretty good. I've rocked him for longer than that while he was crying. I had to keep reminding myself of that. If he's going to cry, it may as well be while he's learning to fall asleep on his own and I'm in a bubble bath than while I'm holding him and feeling like I can't stand another minute of it. He slept until 3ish, I think, when he sleep-cried/fussed for about 10 minutes, then he slept until 5:10. He didn't seem like he was starving in the morning, either. He did eat when he woke up, but I think he would rather have kept sleeping. I probably went in and got him too early since I was in the firm grasp of engorgement discomfort.

So, anyway, then it was Sunday, which leads to baby sleep chronicles, day 2...

Baby sleep chronicles, background info

This blog should be called "Baby Sleep Chronicles." It IS the main topic. And one dear to my heart. Ha ha.

Anyway, we've had a lot of sleep things happening here. And with the impending surgery, along with the challenges we've been facing, we decided it's time to stop rocking Matthew to sleep for good. And it. is. good.

First some background. One of my priorities from the day Matt was born––well, okay, since the week after the day Matt was born and he was finally eating enough and we didn't have to wake him up every three hours, which was its own kind of awful––was to get him into good sleep habits.

The first couple months were excellent. Matthew consistently slept 7- to 9-hour stretches, in the night, from 2.5 months through about 4 months. We even went to Vermont and San Diego, and it went pretty well. He always fell asleep in his bassinet or bouncy chair or on the floor, sometimes on Jeff, almost never on me, occasionally while being held by one of our friends, and never while eating. He took 3-hour naps every morning.

And then we visited Jeff's parents. There was a lot of crying one day and much screaming whenever we even got near the bassinet (same bassinet; took it with us). After that, we got sucked into horrible-sleep land. When we got home, Matthew did not want to sleep in his bassinet anymore. For days, he cried when we got near it, but not consistently. Sometimes he'd go easily to sleep in it. It was weird. So we decided it would be a good time to move to the crib.

He had an okay transition, but only sometimes. Some nights we had to put him in his bassinet and put it in his room next to the crib. Sometimes we had to put him in the crib and take the bassinet out of his room. Who knows? In the bassinet, we often had to rock him and say "shh" very vigorously to get him to stop crying hysterically. And then he would fall asleep, but not peacefully like before.

Then he started moving a lot, flailing his arms and legs, rolling halfway over. We started rocking him to sleep, though it was really more of a straitjacket approach than a rocking approach: "Stop kicking! Stop waving your arms! Just be still so you have a chance of falling asleep!" The sleeping-through-the-night gradually stopped. I suspect some of the night feeding were due to a growth spurt, but then he got into the routine of waking up and kept waking up when he wasn't hungry.

Naps also became not so great. Thirty to forty-five minutes, usually, many, many times a day, and crying at the end of almost every nap.

And then it was Christmas. Before we had visitors, I would listen to Matt's noises in the night and usually be able to tell if he was actually awake or sleep-crying and about to settle down on his own. But when everyone was here, I didn't want them to wake up a bunch of times because of mysterious baby noises, so I went in right away at night.

All this led to a consistent routine in which we rocked Matt to sleep for every nap and at night, and every time he woke up at night we had to pick him up and set him down, I had to feed him, or I had to rock him back to sleep. I've maintained since his birthday that I've never once minded getting up to feed him, but when it became apparent that Matthew wasn't hungry in the night (won't latch on when not hungry; it's pretty obvious) and was only wanting companionship to fall back asleep, things had to change.

And really, it's not fair to Matthew, either––rocking. Who wants to be lulled to sleep only to be accidentally awoken by being jostled, however lightly, into a crib. And then wake up in a different spot than starting out? And then not be able to stay asleep because you only know how to fall asleep while being held and rocked?

After a horrible, horrible week or so of night-waking and being awake for hours and lots of crying by me and Matthew and lots of me crying to Jeff about the horribleness of it all, we snapped into action! (Also with a lot of tears by me.)

The first step––no more pacifier. I didn't really address this before because it wasn't really an issue. Matthew liked it. He didn't seem to love it. It helped him fall asleep faster half the time, but the other half he chewed on the handle and pretty much thought it was a fun toy.

Daytime naps immediately got longer, though he did cry slightly more for three days before falling asleep. I was still rocking him, though, so the transition wasn't too bad. The worst was really that it was taking up a lot of my time. (Though I could read at the same time, so I really racked up some numbers for the Madison Book Marathon.)

Next step––not getting up in the night every time Matthew cried. Aka "cry it out." This name is misleading because there really was much less crying. But then we got all second-guess-y about whether Matt might be hungry, so I was still getting up to feed him between the hours of 1:30 and 4:30 a.m., after a final night feeding at around 6 or 7 p.m. I think keeping this feeding hindered his ability to settle himself back down to sleep. He's started eating mushy foods like a baby Uncle Ross, so I felt pretty sure he doesn't need to eat in the night anymore.

Then I had the doctor's appointment at which we realized that in the near future I'll have to have surgery, and I will physically be unable to rock Matthew to sleep. And since he doesn't allow Jeff to, and it's been a problem anyway, on Saturday we decided it was time to kick the rocking habit.

Baby sleep chronicles to be continued...

The worst minute

Every year, our church's youth group hosts a Valentine's dinner fundraiser. It's a good time with great food, and there's childcare. So far, we have decided that we will only let Matthew go to the nursery during Bible study on Sundays if an adult is in charge. (Thanks, Laurie!) For this thing, we figured we'd be there about half an hour, and the girl in charge is in high school and seems responsible. And Matt's almost 8 months, he knew the other kids in there, and we would barely be leaving him for any amount of time.

It started out okay. We started eating our food, chatting with Cindy and Sean, not really thinking about Matt.

And then the daughter of one of my friends briskly walked toward us and said, "Mrs. Alexy?" (Which of course alarmed me. Being called "Mrs." is always alarming. Am I really a grown-up? And I live in Alabama where kids are often not allowed to call adults by their first names? Ugh. Worse than being called "ma'am" even. But anyway.) "Mrs. Alexy? Your baby is coughing up blood."

WHAT?!

Jeff and I almost-ran out of there, across the church to the nursery room, and I was thinking they'd let him put some small toy in his throat and he was choking or something, and I was wondering how quickly we'd be able to get to the hospital and and and

And we opened the door, and Matthew had been spitting up carrots. I may have laughed in relief. Of course, he was still crying and he inexplicably had his pants and one sock off, but still. Carrots. Not blood.

It was probably worse for everyone else in there than for Matthew. I'm guessing he started spitting up, everyone started panicking, and he started crying. Then he kept crying because no one picked him up! They just panicked, and he sat on the floor and cried, wondering what he did wrong. Poor kids. But, yeah, back to our policy of only letting adults watch him at all times. High schoolers, not so much. Maybe when he's like 5.

Carrots. Not blood.

Laughing time

Every day, Matthew and I have laughing time. I never know when it's going to be or what will set it off. But mainly it consists of a lot of hysterical laughing. Matt will start giggling then laughing then rolling around laughing then catching his breath and laughing some more. And baby laughs are the funniest thing ever! So then I start laughing uncontrollably, and we just laugh and laugh and laugh.

We had another mom and her baby over the other day, and they got to experience the mystery of laughing time. Matthew kept pulling himself up to standing with the ottoman, looking at me, and cracking up. The girl was like, "Does your baby always laugh like that?" Her baby was looking at Matt curiously; we asked her to translate, but since she's also about 8 months, it didn't really work out. I was like, "Yeah. We laugh a lot. Don't ask me why." The stand-up-laugh-sit-down-stand-up-laugh routine went on for at least a full 10 minutes. The rest of us just laughed along.

A couple days ago, laughing time happened when Jeff and I were setting Matt on the couch and saying, "You're the king of the couch! You're the king of the couch!" Either it's laughable that he's the king of anything, he loves the couch, or he thought it was funny that he was sitting at face-level of a grown-up sitting on the floor. Who knows? But it was hi-lar-i-ous! Apparently.

Sometimes Matt just looks at my face and laughs uncontrollably. That type of laughing time is slightly less funny for me (who wants a funny face, anyway?), but I'll take it. Ah, laughing time. These are the moments I'll miss when he inevitably outgrows it.

Hernia. Sad.

I finally went to the doctor to get this abdominal pain checked out, and as I'd self-diagnosed from what the internet told me, it's an umbilical hernia. Great. I'm a little sad about it. The doctor said there's pretty much nothing I can do to make it better. It will either stay the same or get worse. I'm supposed to see a surgeon on Friday in case surgery is an option, but the doctor said since it's a pretty small one that surgery probably won't be necessary. I sure hope not. Ugh. I don't know. It's kind of depressing that the entire time I was pregnant, I pretty much felt fine, or at least much better than most people do, but then after Matthew was born, I had that joint pain and this hernia, and I just can't do everything I'm used to being able to do.

:(

Eeek! But better than I expected

As part of my gym membership, I had a fitness assessment done.

Bad news first: measurements.
Bust: 39"
Waist: 33"
Hips: 45"

My measurements from a couple years ago:
Bust: 32"
Waist: 28"
Hips: 33"

What the heck happened to my hips? Oh yeah, childbirth. Eek. Same with the boobs (I knew they were way bigger, but geez. That's ridiculous). No excuse for gaining five inches in the waist, though. Which leads to the other bad news: I am mildly obese. Yech. I didn't need the fitness assessor to tell me that, though. (I have already lost some weight in the past 3-4 weeks but have a long ways to go.)

But the good news! I'm still super buff and flexible and stuff.

For the heart rate/treadmill test (not sure what it's called), I'm in the 99th percentile for females in my age group. Funny story on that. The test entailed walking on the treadmill and staying within a certain heart rate range while the assessor increased the pace and incline. I was just walking, thinking, "Hmm, I'm going to try to lower my heart rate." So I did! The guy was like, "That's strange. Your heart rate is going down! I don't understand." I said, all casually, "Oh, yeah, I'm trying to lower it. I was thinking about that old game show with the tennis-star host where people had to not exceed a certain heart rate or they would lose. [Possibly called The Chair? I can't remember.]" He said, "Well, yeah, people can do that when they're scared or something, but not while exercising." I think he was impressed. I was pretty proud of myself, anyway. I was also channeling Dwight: "Through concentration, I can raise and lower my cholesterol at will." Pam: "Why would you wanna raise your cholesterol?" Dwight: "So I can lower it."

I also scored 99th percentile for grip strength and sit-reach hip flexion. Both surprising to me. I've lost flexibility, but apparently not as much as I thought.

Pushups, 85th percentile. I can do better, but I was really sore from lifting the day before. So now I'm really, really sore. Reach-over-shoulder flexibility, also 85th percentile.

Crunches. Ech. I can barely bear to write it here since my abs of steel have formerly been one of my defining characteristics. 70th percentile. My excuses are that it was really difficult, the room was really hot, and I am, honestly, a little concerned about this stomach bulge thing that I'm going to the doctor for next week. But really, there's no excuse for that. I should be able to do crunches all day long. (And lose five inches at the waist while I'm at it.)

Hopefully they'll be seeing me more around the gym, and you'll be seeing less of me (hee hee. I know, not that punny).

Pacifier? What's that? Plus some rambling

On Monday, we decided that Matt needed to quit his pacifier cold turkey. It was really helpful for a while, to help him fall asleep or to quiet him down in big crowds, like at church, but then it became much more of a hindrance than a help. So––the end. He had started grabbing it and yanking it out of his mouth right at the instant he was about to fall asleep, totally waking himself up. Or he'd throw it out of the crib then plaintively look at it and wave his arm through the slats and make noises like "come in here and get this for me, right now!"

We didn't think it would go too badly since Matthew's only had the pacifier while falling asleep or while really tired and loud in public. And even then, he only liked it half the time for falling asleep. But, man, Monday was rough. And yesterday was rough. Of course, he also just discovered that he can pull himself to standing on things. And then on Monday he fell onto the crib railing and it made his mouth bleed (and my heart). Worst thing ever. He was fine as soon as I picked him up (I'm scarred, though. Ha ha).

But today, I think he's forgotten that pacifiers even exist. First two naps of the day, no problems. It's taken him longer to fall asleep, but no crying or even fussing. What a relief. I needed a break, after like 3 hours straight of fussing yesterday. The plus, which may be a coincidence, is that for one nap each day, he's slept more than his usual 45 minutes. Keeping my fingers crossed for that to continue.

In other news, we just signed up for Skype. We talked to Dad and Donna the other day, and it was great. I wish they lived here, but at least we could see them on the screen. I also wish they would get married, but we'll see if that ever happens. I've never been a person who thinks of friends like family; I think of family like family. (Except the Maria formerly known as Maria Deslandes. She's my real family. No other exceptions. We've been friends 22 years!) So it would be nice if Donna were actually part of our family. And it would be nice if my dad lived somewhere near here so we could hang out, and he could visit with his bff, Baby Matthew. But probably Jeff's parents will move here when they retire, so that's something (but not the same).

Also, these past couple weeks have been exhausting. Part of an email from Lisa made me tear up a little, but it also helped so much: "These rough, exhausting times may come and go, but there is always a time of rest and renewal. God already has that time in place for you, Jeff, and Matt. Even when we can't see the end of our trials, God knows and has created the end. That means the end already exists, and you are on your way to it. This journey of parenthood seems like one big lesson in blind, pure faith, but God will not let us down and will only continue to lift us up and help us grow. Hang in there and know that you are not alone! I'll pray that you all get that much-needed break soon."

Every day I'm trying to appreciate just one small thing at least. The weather has been nice, and we've been able to go outside. The past couple nights, Jeff and I have had a couple hours uninterrupted where we can watch Psych episodes from the library and just unwind. Matt's sleeping is improving incrementally. He's healthy. I get to go to water aerobics, which, honestly, I think is as much fun as roller derby. Maybe more. The old ladies are funny. I'm kind of becoming friends with some girls I'd like to be friends with who have babies about the same age (maybe we're already friends? I don't know. I'm always awkward with people).

But some things are still difficult. I have some stomach thing that hopefully will be diagnosed and fixed at my appointment next Wednesday. (My internet diagnosis says hernia, but I hope not.) Some days I am just really, really bored. Every day I wish I could see Jeff more (though I've felt this way for, what, 6 years? So that's probably not going to change).

I guess that's it. Gotta eat, make baby food, edit, play, play, play.