So you had a kid. Good for you. It changes everything.
I don't mean to demean anyone and their breeding skills, I just think that there is more to life than your progeny and frankly, you should too. But then there is me. I have so much more going on my head than my child. He is my first thought every morning but from there it's usually on to many, many things. All revolving around him in one way or another. And sometimes that's just plain annoying. To myself, and I am certain, to others around me. Logically I do understand that the sun does not, in fact, rise specifically to gleam upon his shiny blond head. But to look at my blog, my myspace page or any number of camera phone pictures you would think I had nothing else to do. And I suppose that is the paradox. In my head I am this thinking, fiery, decisive and independent person. But the reality of my internet activity shows a mom. Dare I say, just a mom? Now don't get all angry telling me that it's the hardest job and all that. I know all the rhetoric but really, it's not that hard. With all the rewards I get and perks in which I partake I think it's pretty easy. And I love it, which makes it all that much easier.
But with being a parent, or at least a mom, there is all this guilt and shame attached to being a person separate from your child. Somehow along with an embryo, I grew this insecurity that makes me feel as if I shouldn't have an identity. I place my child out in front of me like a shield or a badge of honor and I feel like he is the only part of me that matters anymore. As if it would be so selfish to assume that I should have thoughts and even go so far as to voice them. Thoughts that do not, at least on the surface, appear to be wrapped around my son. And then there is the other side of this rusty patina of parenthood. The small fact that I really do care about him that much. I love posting pictures of him and showing off this truly amazing being that has enriched every bit of minutiae in my life.
So here goes. This is Katy's Secret Online Life. And while it may seem like a shrine at which I worship my child it is actually about me and how I deal with my life. My life as a mom, yes, but also as a climber, as a political constituent, as a woman, friend, writer and thinking, fiery, independent and fairly indecisive person.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Sleeping Through the Night (and then some)
Since I cam home from the hospital with my sweet Killian I have noticed that he sleeps better than most children in his age range. I spent the first 2 weeks of his life trying to wake him up to nurse for fear that he would starve to death while I held him. I was your typical hyper-sensitive first-time mom. I was convinced that if he ever had a bottle he would never care to breastfeed again. If he cried for a moment I immediately ran to him and did everything I could to soothe him. I rarely complained about waking up for him in the middle of the night and I would cry at the beauty of my child.
And then colic struck.
I had spent my entire pregnancy in mortal fear of 4 things. Miscarriage. SIDS. Autism. Colic. In about that order, too. If my child was born healthy then I was convinced I had to spend every waking second preventing Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. I did everything that was recommended for SIDS prevention and more. I bought a breathing alarm for his crib, I kept him in my room but in his own bed as long as possible and he slept in sleepsacks until he was tripping himself up in them. As for autism, well, I didn't really know what to do to prevent that. I still don't, but I don't really obsess over it anymore. I think I finally just wore myself down on that one because there are just no real answers.
But Colic. The word alone can still send shivers of icy fear down my spine. For nearly a year, yes a year, I had a cranky, screaming, sensitive little man attached to me. After the first two weeks of ignorant bliss my bundle of joy started to show signs of being not so joyful. I attributed it to circumstances. His dad had finally gone back to work so he wasn't with as many people as he'd been used to. Maybe I wasn't holding him enough. Maybe I held him too much? It could be the cup coffee that I drank in the morning. Was it the milk that I would ingest? Maybe he was sensitive to the cow's milk proteins in my breast milk. Well I tried it all. I cut out as much milk as I could. I cut back to one cup of half-caff coffee in the morning. I tried the 5 S's and read Dr. Spock. But all to no avail. My darling child would continue to scream for hours and hours all day long. And then, sometime past 8 or 9 at night he would just stop. And he would sleep. And sleep. By the time he was 7 weeks old he was pretty regularly sleeping for 7 hours. This pattern continued on so that he was sleeping 10 hours at 10 weeks and peaked once he was sleeping for 12 hours at 12 weeks old. I was still getting up for 1 very quick 5:00 am feeding until about 20 weeks, but this didn't even register on my radar.
While recovering from any particularly fierce bout of colic I'd remind myself that he slept so well all night compared to my friends' babies that maybe the days of endless screaming were worth it. I mean, at least I was well-rested enough to care for him, right? I told myself this often. As least I get to sleep all night long. Like a mantra...allllll niiiiiight loooooonnggggg....
And somewhere close to a year the colic started to wane. It wasn't the milk proteins or the caffeine in my breast milk because colic lasted at least 2 months past my weaning him in his ninth month. He just started to be able to deal with the world around him. I can't say what the change was, it just sort of slowly happened. There were days that I would lament that he was 6 months old and he was still colicky even though all the "experts" told me it doesn't last past 3 months. Thankfully I had some amazing friends that had also had "sensitive" little babies and they reassured me that their children were also quite a handful until about a year.
So now Killian is no longer colicky. He is, and probably always will be, on the sensitive side. But there is a very, very bright side to all of this. He still sleeps through the night! Last night Killian went to bed without a single tear or whine at 9:00 pm and didn't stir until 11:00 am. I have to say, I think I'd take a colicky sleeper over an all around easy child that just doesn't sleep. I knew it would be worth it one day. There is no cure for colic but there are blessings in every situation, you just have to be able to recognize them and cherish them.
And then colic struck.
I had spent my entire pregnancy in mortal fear of 4 things. Miscarriage. SIDS. Autism. Colic. In about that order, too. If my child was born healthy then I was convinced I had to spend every waking second preventing Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. I did everything that was recommended for SIDS prevention and more. I bought a breathing alarm for his crib, I kept him in my room but in his own bed as long as possible and he slept in sleepsacks until he was tripping himself up in them. As for autism, well, I didn't really know what to do to prevent that. I still don't, but I don't really obsess over it anymore. I think I finally just wore myself down on that one because there are just no real answers.
But Colic. The word alone can still send shivers of icy fear down my spine. For nearly a year, yes a year, I had a cranky, screaming, sensitive little man attached to me. After the first two weeks of ignorant bliss my bundle of joy started to show signs of being not so joyful. I attributed it to circumstances. His dad had finally gone back to work so he wasn't with as many people as he'd been used to. Maybe I wasn't holding him enough. Maybe I held him too much? It could be the cup coffee that I drank in the morning. Was it the milk that I would ingest? Maybe he was sensitive to the cow's milk proteins in my breast milk. Well I tried it all. I cut out as much milk as I could. I cut back to one cup of half-caff coffee in the morning. I tried the 5 S's and read Dr. Spock. But all to no avail. My darling child would continue to scream for hours and hours all day long. And then, sometime past 8 or 9 at night he would just stop. And he would sleep. And sleep. By the time he was 7 weeks old he was pretty regularly sleeping for 7 hours. This pattern continued on so that he was sleeping 10 hours at 10 weeks and peaked once he was sleeping for 12 hours at 12 weeks old. I was still getting up for 1 very quick 5:00 am feeding until about 20 weeks, but this didn't even register on my radar.
While recovering from any particularly fierce bout of colic I'd remind myself that he slept so well all night compared to my friends' babies that maybe the days of endless screaming were worth it. I mean, at least I was well-rested enough to care for him, right? I told myself this often. As least I get to sleep all night long. Like a mantra...allllll niiiiiight loooooonnggggg....
And somewhere close to a year the colic started to wane. It wasn't the milk proteins or the caffeine in my breast milk because colic lasted at least 2 months past my weaning him in his ninth month. He just started to be able to deal with the world around him. I can't say what the change was, it just sort of slowly happened. There were days that I would lament that he was 6 months old and he was still colicky even though all the "experts" told me it doesn't last past 3 months. Thankfully I had some amazing friends that had also had "sensitive" little babies and they reassured me that their children were also quite a handful until about a year.
So now Killian is no longer colicky. He is, and probably always will be, on the sensitive side. But there is a very, very bright side to all of this. He still sleeps through the night! Last night Killian went to bed without a single tear or whine at 9:00 pm and didn't stir until 11:00 am. I have to say, I think I'd take a colicky sleeper over an all around easy child that just doesn't sleep. I knew it would be worth it one day. There is no cure for colic but there are blessings in every situation, you just have to be able to recognize them and cherish them.
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