At least I think that’s what they call it when babies make these noises.  She is experimenting with buzzing her lips and tongue together and there is quite a lot of drool involved.  She can’t sit up on her own, but I did plop her into the Bumbo this weekend and she seemed comfortable.

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I remember my dad used to tease me by saying, “Morning, Glory” when I came into the kitchen with a scowl on my face.  I am not a morning person.  Waking up to nurse the baby has been a good way to get me out of bed because otherwise I wouldn’t be motivated.  My oldest daughter already has 3 or 4 tardies this year, and they’ve been my fault.

Anyway, Morning Glory is the name of a flowering vine.  There are always Morning Glory vines with white flowers growing along the edges of my dad’s garden.  It’s a beautiful flower that blooms in the early morning and often the petals curl and wilt by the afternoon.  At our new house we have one with pink flowers growing on the fence.

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Happy F-F-Friday!  I will share floral photos on Fridays as often as I can, but we are heading into fall so let’s be realistic about it.

This is our first experience with a baby who self soothes by sucking her fingers and thumb.  It is nice not to have to go to her during the night. More often than not, I am the one going to her, pleading with her to nurse at 6:30 in the morning. As I change her diaper she continues to suck her fingers. She squirms and her eyes strain to focus. Then she sees me, lets her fingers slide out of her mouth, and beams.

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There are likely many of this type of photo in this baby’s future as I am completely won over by how peaceful she looks. During her naps, I desperately want to shower her with hugs and kisses. Instead, I listen to her little sounds and I lean in close to take photographs.

When I went to my six week checkup with the midwife who delivered my baby, I took a postpartum screening survey.  One of the questions made a big impression on me because my husband and I had just been talking about it a few days earlier.  It was something like this:

My parents, who live close to us, went on a trip for two weeks to celebrate their wedding anniversary, and I noticed how much I missed talking to them and having them drop by for short visits.  School hadn’t started yet and my older children were frustrated by being at home with me and the new baby all the time.  Not many people were coming by and we weren’t going on any adventures, so maybe we all had started to feel trapped.  One thing I really picked up on was that I was taking everything so seriously.  I was trying my best to breastfeed the baby and heaven help anyone who threatened our success.  I was not allowing myself to relax or laugh.  Everything seemed like a really big deal because I was concentrating so hard on giving the baby enough milk and burping her and fixing my own meals so that my milk would taste good and be nutritious.  A joke my older children thought was hilarious would make me angry and instead of laughing along with them I would yell at them.

But, I recognized what was happening, and then my parents came back from their trip so I breathed a sigh of relief.  My husband and I talked about what I needed from him.  I made it a priority to relax and smile.  My parents got home on a Saturday and then my appointment was on that following Monday.  I filled out the postpartum survey and told the midwife about my experience so far.  I said I hoped to be able to get my sense of humor back, but I confessed that breastfeeding was taxing my body.  The midwife sympathized with me and told me to keep watching for signs of depression.  I scored an 8 on the survey and she said that a score of 12 or more would have made her worry.  We both agreed that what I was feeling was normal, but that I could handle it, especially with more help from my husband and parents.

Another month has gone by and I still use my Twitter stream to complain about the difficulties of breastfeeding, but at least I am able to see the funny side of things.  On Tuesday of this week, I dropped my oldest daughter off at her school and then dropped my son off at his school.  I was driving home with the baby, thinking I would nurse her and she would nap.  But then I remembered some things I wanted from the grocery store: bread, cheese, children’s toothpaste, and I thought I had better get some pads to put in my bra since my milk letdown is so strong.  So I took my baby into the store and was pushing her around in the cart, quickly crossing things off my mental list.  Since we were there early in the morning, there were lots of employees stocking the shelves.  One employee in the face wash section wanted to “oooooh” and “ahhhhhh” about the baby so I was delayed a few seconds.  I hurried to the baby aisle to see how much the absorbent pads cost.  I saw that they had washable, reusable pads so I decided on those.  And then since I was thinking so much about milk and leaking and trying to beat the clock . . . I looked at my watch and then started thinking about what I was wearing. “Hmmmm,” I thought. “I don’t think I’m wearing any nursing pads here in this grocery store. I hope I can make it home without getting my shirt wet.” Well, that thought was all it took to provoke a let down.

As I went towards the front of the store, I recognized that it was funny to be buying two packs of absorbent pads with big dark circles on my chest betraying the fact that I was the kind of idiot who would leave the house without wearing any.  I went through the self checkout line in a lame attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone.  When I scanned the pads, the coupon machine printed out a coupon with a message from Enfamil: “Thinking of supplementing your breastfed baby?”  it asked, mocking my pain.  I stuffed the coupon I didn’t need into the grocery bag and smiled sheepishly at an elderly employee as I left.

Just as I did with my other two children, I am avoiding the hassle of pumping (I’m too lazy to wash the equipment and the bottles).  I count on eventually reaching that point where my milk supply matches what my baby needs.  Some mornings I fear I am only an hour away from developing mastitis and I spend all day offering my baby opportunities to nurse.  I can’t even hold her against my chest without wincing in pain.  Having to ask your older children (with your teeth bared and your voice resembling a primal growl) to back off while the baby is nursing is not funny.  Being in agony because of hard lumpy breasts is not funny at all, but getting a coupon for formula and thinking of how to respond. . . that’s really fucking funny.

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(I realize that every woman’s milk supply is different.  My intention is not to make judgments about women who supplement breastfeeding with formula.  I’m just sharing my personal experience.  Also cotton pads are not really working for me, but I am learning to wear shirts that will make the leaks less obvious.  I want to try wool pads.)

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At 10 weeks, our baby had a check up with the doctor.  I told him how lucky we felt that things are going so well.  He commented on her good skin, good muscle tone, and how happy and engaged she is.  He also spoke from experience that having such a good baby as the third is dangerous because it allows you, as parents, to consider the possibility of a fourth.  She’s perfectly proportioned: in the 90th percentile for height, weight and head circumference.  And even though she got a shot in each thigh, she still slept through the night.  We are blessed and very grateful.

Now that we’re able to make our baby smile, we look for times when she is alert and willing to have a little conversation.  My husband carries her around and asks her the funniest questions like, “Who has stinky feet?” I love witnessing how she answers him with wonderful noises.  She also cracks up when we exaggerate the act of smelling her as a dog would, panting.  This video was made in between a diaper change and a short nap: the perfect time for eliciting some smiles.

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Thank you for reassuring me that I can tell my stories out of order.  I have the type of personality that would make linear narration a stumbling block.  This morning, while I have a little free time, I’m going to share some things from this week:  Our 5 year old daughter is loving her kindergarten class; Our 3 year old son began attending half-day nursery school on Tuesday; And our littlest one has consistently slept through the night (nine consecutive hours) sucking her fingers since she was a couple of weeks old.  She and I attended our first Musikgarten class together on Wednesday morning.  I almost cried I was so happy to have that opportunity to spend time with her in that setting.

She has started smiling and cooing.  She makes us laugh with the cute noises she contributes to our conversations.  She sucks two fingers at a time, but doesn’t mind at all when I pick her up out of her crib at 6:30 in the morning and let her know it’s time to nurse.  She likes our choices of TV shows: cartoons on Noggin and design shows on HGTV.  The ceiling fans often hold her attention too.  She has astounded us with how big she has gotten.

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I want to write about our move and share photos of the work we’ve done on our house.  I also want to tell the story of the baby’s birth because the details are already starting to get fuzzy!

Abandoning photography and neglecting this blog has been bugging me.  I assumed I would have so much to say about our daughter and many interesting subjects to photograph, what with our new house and all the excitement that goes with finding a place for everything.  But over the past two months I have not updated my blog, and I have worried about how I am going to tell this birth story and other stories that need to be written.  And so, even though it is hard to know where or how to restart, I am going to get back in the habit.  I miss the floral photos on Fridays and I miss seeking out opportunities with my children to get creative.  I’m going to do something about it instead of just worrying.

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I was walking near a tree in my parents’ yard on Sunday, and right at eye-level I spotted a really interesting insect. It had a tongue and antennae like a butterfly and, as you can see, was quite photogenic. I will be telling more personal stories here on my blog soon, but I am publishing these bug photos first in order to help me get started blogging again.

Thanks for all of your comments conveying your support and encouragement for our family.  I have not responded individually because we’ve been trying to get settled in our house.  I love that you all came by to comment, though.  Happy Labor Day!

I’m afraid my five year old daughter will commit a crime of passion.  She’s teetering on the edge of crazy and has a lot of anger, which she takes out on me and her brother.  She’s jealous that the baby’s eyes are blue and shocked by how much time the baby spends nursing.  She asks questions about everything and sometimes I don’t have enough patience to answer her kindly.  She’ll ask, “Where did you get that blue blanket?”  And I’ll ask, “Why do you care?” instead of really considering her longing to understand our family’s new dynamic.  We are working on being kind to one another and expressing our love for each other.

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My son seems to be adjusting well.  He loves cuddling with me and with his little sister.  He wants to know when she will crawl and when she will eat her first banana.  He hasn’t shown any anger toward anyone.  He’s very accepting and cooperative.

They are getting along pretty well together and playing pretend with each other in our living room.  I hope they see each other as friends and playmates.  It will be another big adjustment when we move into our house at the end of this month.  They enjoy playing in the front yard while we get the house ready.  I like hanging out on the front porch.

We spent several hours there yesterday while my husband and our nephew worked on the floors.  They took up most of the carpet and got a good start on removing the vinyl tiles (which involves using a blow torch).  My husband’s job is laying floor coverings so we are counting on his expertise and access to the appropriate tools.  When we are at the house, I just go around and pull nails out of the walls and tend to other small details.

On Friday I got them all in the van into their carseats by myself then took photos to document it.  We took the baby in for her first weight check and to meet our family doctor.  In a week she has almost regained the 10 ounces she lost in the hospital.  While we were in the doctor’s office, my daughter got 4 vaccinations in preparation for kindergarten.  Our house is within walking distance of her school.  My plan is for us to walk her to school because I think it would be really healthy for me and my other two children to get that fresh air each morning.

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