On where we're at now

We have survived.

Abby was an absolutely crazy, screaming-whenever-awake, what-the-actual-fuck baby until a few weeks ago.  Now, with just some small changes she's pretty much a 'normal' baby.

It's been a steep learning curve.  I thought colic was a medical thing.  Didn't realise it was just a term used for when a baby is 'fussy at the same time of day for a period of three hours or more'.  Abby was the life of the colic party.  Her fussy time went from about 4.30pm until sometimes 11pm.  Murray and I would often go for days without really talking as it was too hard to do amongst the chaos of a constantly screaming child (and I would retreat to bed to attempt some sleep as soon as it seemed at all possible).  Now, while she still often won't go 'down for the night' until 9ish it's a lot less screamy.  Oh the difference that makes!  Some nights we actually get an hour or so to converse.

And I thought reflux was a spilling thing.  But apparently there's this thing called silent reflux where they don't really spit up especially much and everyone assumed Abby had it.  She didn't (she has issues from difficult delivery), but she did share a lot of the same problems as a 'reflux' baby - needed to be held upright constantly, hated lying on her back, wouldn't sleep in her cot.  While this hasn't totally changed, it's starting to.  And where things are at currently are liveable. She slept (and resettled after feeds) in her bassinet all night for the first time a few nights ago.  Until then she has co-slept with me for at least part of the night every night to avoid middle of the night screaming sessions (and ultimately, waking her sister and starting WWIII).

Today is the first day Abby's managed to simultaneously be in the pram on the bus while not screaming for THIRTEEN WHOLE MINUTES.  That's about twelve and a half minutes more than her previous personal best.  She even smiled at me through some of the trip.  Unlike her sister who was generally a happy little vegemite in the pram, Abby hates it unless it is in constant forward motion.  And that 'rocking' the pram in one spot she will have none of.  It's cheating.  So where with Etta I could escape some fussiness (and get some sun and exercise to combat exhaustion and depression) by just taking the pram out for a little stroll, this has not been the case this time.  It looks like that is finally changing.

Which is great.  Because up until this point it's been nigh on impossible to go out without help unless feeling particularly brave.  Because walking around with a screaming baby in any environment never fails to elicit commentary and advice from total strangers.  Which is ridiculous because how can you possibly not know:

a) your child is screaming
b) why your child might be screaming (if for any reason other than just cos babies do that...)
 
When you basically listen to screaming all day and don't sleep much and are grateful for days where you can shower, jerk strangers pointing out the obvious is not what you need.  Usually what you need is a couple of stiff drinks.  And, if you can't have that just leaving your home to walk without harassment would be nice.*

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Meanwhile over in camp toddler it's been a bit of a nightmare.

Because I was planning to only need one cot I was hoping to start the process of upgrading Etta to a 'big girl bed'.  She gets quite ownershippy about her 'stuff' so we were hoping to put her cot away for a few months before passing it down to Abby to avoid attempted sororicide.  So we made the call a couple of weekends ago to take the side off her cot.

It was kind of ok for the first wee bit.  Etta did fixate on an aspect of the 'new' bed we weren't expecting her to (new robot duvet) but we weren't expecting things to go super smooth.  Etta does not cope well with change.  And this on the coat-tails of a new sibling was probably a bit much.  The first week was hicuppy, but ok.  And then she worked out she could get out of the bed...

And the next day she worked out she could also undo her sleeping bag and open her door.  And all the other doors in the house.  That in itself is pretty ARGH, but she then decided that napping was no longer required.  The thing is, napping is totally still required as she is a terrifying nightmare monster when she doesn't nap.  So that part wasn't fun.  Even less fun was the sudden night terrors screaming in the middle of the night and then deciding that she didn't need to sleep resulting in Murray sleeping on the floor by her cot (I had Abby) both Friday and Saturday night.

So while we really tried to stick it out to save future torment, on Sunday we put the side back on the cot.  Hey presto - napping as usual.

But she's also at that point in development where she's realised she really is her own person ie: she doesn't have to listen to other people if she really doesn't want to.  This is the first time I've actually felt annoyed by my child.  Because I'll be trying to talk to her about something important and she'll just start humming and walk away to play with something else.  She's also taken to saying 'huh?' if she doesn't understand/agree or want to hear what you're saying (sigh).  I am catching a glimpse now of what it might feel like to live with a teenager**.

She's also teething.  So as much as I feel frazzled, I also do feel sorry for her as it obviously hurts her.  She's also grown three centimeters in the last three months and as a result has become clumsy as fuck.  So she's constantly bumped and bruised and generally undergoing some form of physical harassment.  I'm just glad she's a hardarse and besides being grumpy and prone to tantrums seldom cries when she's injured herself.  Growing must suck.

So yeah.  Times have been a bit suck but they are getting better.  I even managed to get a massage and buy myself a new dress on the weekend.  This weekend Murray and I are even going to attempt to go out on a date (a breakfast one).  Wish us luck (well, wish our babysitters luck).

*  How sad is it that many of us (I'm sure it's not just me) feel trapped in our homes because we have 'fussy' babies?  I do fully get that as a non-parent (or another parent) it isn't the most fun thing listening to screaming babies when you're out.  But people willing to take out screaming babies obviously are the ones who really need to be out of the house?  I mean, it's not fun for us being out with a screaming baby and getting glared at.  We don't do it for fun.  But you know what, it's better than getting PND, or leaving your family or murdering your baby.  So maybe, rather than give us the evils - give us a smile, one of those 'you are doing great!' kind of smiles.  Just doing that might save a babies life some day.  You really never know.
 
** Only this one still poops her pants and I have to physically wrestle her into submission to change them.  You'd be surprised at how strong a toddler can be!

On going dairy free

My saviours

I've been dairy free for three weeks now.

As mentioned in earlier posts Abby has been a tricky wee babe and a major learning curve.  The one thing I didn't have to relearn is that it's best to trust your gut when it comes to your kids.  From when she was very small she was in obvious pain when passing gas or pooping.  She would bring her little legs up to her chest and scream her lungs out.  She got nappy rash that looked like acid burns.  It just felt like something was wrong.

When she was three weeks old I contemplated taking dairy out of my diet to see if that would help.  I was eating a LOT of dairy at the time (breastfeeding cravings) and we have a fair few family members with dairy intolerances.  I managed 11 hours when I initially tried to give it up, then caved for some cheese.  I had many people telling me baby guts are unstable - especially around the 'wake up' time of three weeks and I loved cheese so much I decided to believe them.  Cos cheese!

Two weeks later with everything still very bad I decided I needed to make a more concerted effort.  Three days later, while we didn't have a magically happy baby, we did have a baby with more regular and seemingly less painful bowel movements and no nappy rash.

This time before properly taking the plunge I made sure I had things in the house I could eat so I didn't feel like I was totally missing out.  The things that have helped the most with that have been:   
- Cadbury hot chocolate (helps with the sweet and creamy cravings)
- Almond milk (best milk replacement.  Never liked soy or rice milk but this is great, especially so in hot chocolate or with cereal)
- Whittakers dark chocolate (feeling like I can still have chocolate.  Cos I can)
- Avocados (creamy cheese on toast or crackers replacement.  When I need savoury snack)
I was also extremely fortunate to receive a gift pack of replacement cheese products from my friend Alice at Angel Food.  My pick of the bunch has been the tasty cheese sauce mix.  Again, so helpful with cravings.  Have used it in 'cheesy' dishes for me and Murray and he concurs it is great! 

The first week was hard - particularly because we still have dairy in the house.  Etta is a very fussy kid so basically if there is a food she will eat we will have it.  But I've managed to be good and not eat her cheese and yoghurt, instead opting for avocado crackers if I so much as thought about it.  Now, it's no big deal.  I've even had dairy free home made pizza and not felt resentful.  I realised the main thing cheese really did to enhance my favorite toppings was glue them together. While glue is important, I can live without it.

The other reason it's been easy is because Abby's tummy is sooo much better.  It is hard for me to knowingly eat something that might affect her because the difference in her well being is so marked.  Eating cheese would make me feel like I was knowingly hurting her.  It'd be like kicking a puppy only a tiny, human puppy.  If I actually did that I'd probably have her taken away by CYFs.  Those thoughts are definitely enough to put me off cheese.*

And there are pros in it for me. I've always done better without dairy - I just love it SO MUCH it's hard to do without it.  The only time my cholesterol has ever been higher than it should it was 100% down to cheese and hollandaise.  And when I'm anxious or my immunity is bung I react badly to lactose.  Consequently, I've never actually liked milk or cream - so the almond milk discovery was a fantastic one for me and has heralded a permanent change.  Being dairy free is definitely helping me drop those bonus pregnancy kilos without really trying, plus my skin is doing pretty ok too (would be better if it were Summer.  My skin hates Winter).

With this slight cleansing of my diet, and with no longer being pregnant I've decided to finally return to a low gluten diet.  Pregnancy kinda kept the gluten tummy upsets at bay, but now the hormones are diminishing my stomach has started to go to crap again.  And having a fickle stomach combined with not a lot of sleep (newby plus toddler) or time for general health and maintenance, I figure that while I can't magically get more sleep, I can easily change my diet.

So Abby's a bit better, but still not what I see when I see 'normal' babies.  She still wants to be held all the time, dislikes lying on her back and is very, very fussy.  So my next post will be on our adventures into baby osteopathy.  Watch this space!

* For a while at least.  Babies tummies are changeable.  I will try to reintroduce dairy to my diet at some point in the future.  Just not now.  She is so tiny and it clearly causes her grief.  I will try experimentation with low lactose options to see if that's the main player when she's a bit bigger.

A quick follow up from the last blog

Getting sent flowers RULES!  Definitely a nice way to brighten someones day

Given the response I had to my last post I thought I'd better clarify:

I am ok.

I hadn't realised how the last post may read to friends and whanau.  Then a few days ago Murray told me it was like a wake up call for him.  He'd known things were hard, but didn't know they were that hard.  Although everything in that post is very true it wasn't meant in any way as a cry for help.  I am extremely lucky and have a lot of support.*  Thank you all so much for being so supportive and helpful for our family during this time.  It really is appreciated.  My main reason for being so frank in that post was to illustrate to (or remind) folk how hard it is in those early weeks - especially when there is a toddler in tow.  And that if you are one of those people who are struggling to cope it's ok to struggle.  In fact, I think it's quite normal.

I want to applaud those I know who are doing it without the level of support I have.  I want to give a shout out to those who do it without partners or without extended families or both - they are my heroes.  I don't know how you do this when you can't just pass the baby over to someone else for a bit.  I manage because I know that when Murray gets home from work, I'll get a break.  For many other people there is never a break.

And now I am writing this I want to acknowledge that things are hard for parents from all walks of life.  Regardless of how much or how little we earn, sleep deprivation, loss of a sense of self and parental guilt can affect us all.  The arrival of baby number two has made me really appreciate how hard it is being a parent.  Particularly for those parents of bigger families, of unwell children or whom are unwell themselves.  I never truly realised until now the effort they put in.  And I want to publicly apologise for any judgement anyone has ever felt I've ever passed, consciously or not, on these parents.  If I did it was because I was ignorant and I am sorry.

Because parents need the support of other parents and their communities.  They are growing the next generation and that's an extremely important job.  If you are a parent yourself you'll know this, and support rather than judgement is what is needed to keep us all afloat in hard times.  It is so important.  And it really is a simple thing.

These days most of us don't exist in those little neighbourly microcosms where people are always on hand with advice and an extra pair of hands.  While the old fashioned, practical things are a great help (meals, help around the house, someone to hold the baby while you sleep) equally it's the little things that help.  Kind messages, smiles, hugs and flowers (thank you Miriam!) make a big difference.  Basically, any validation that you are doing ok really helps.  Yesterday I bought bras, and the lady fitting me told me I looked good for having a seven week old.  That made me feel great.  Much nicer than the well meaning lady at the Drs the other day who told me 'You are doing well, it's obviously taken it's toll'.  Just phrasing things well and acknowledging that despite appearances you are doing a good job really helps.

Because for me the times that are hardest are the times that people can't easily help with.  It's those days where randomly Abby just screams for hours on end and won't sleep.  That gap between 5pm and 6.30pm when I'm waiting for Murray to come home, and organising dinner, and Abby is cranky because it's just crankytime.  The nights where traffic is bad and I have to do bedtime alone.  The times that are unpredictable, and therefore almost impossible to get help with.  Nice thoughts from better times help get me through these trying ones.

And I am ok.

I am ok because (like pregnancy) this hard stuff doesn't last forever.  It may feel like it when you're in it, but it doesn't.  After a feeding frenzy over the weekend (6 week cluster feed) Abby is now sometimes calm.  She sometimes even coos and smiles.  Before the end of last week if she was awake and not feeding she was crying so this is a vast improvement.  Today she kinda laughed.  Things are getting better.

And in the meantime I am focused on the little things.  The great thing about having lived with any illness for a long period of time, mental or otherwise, is that you (usually) develop coping mechanisms that are useful in other parts of your life.  I am much better at looking after myself now as a 33 year old than I was as a 20 year old.  So I make sure I have time to relax in the bath and paint my nails at least once week.  I eat (dairy free) chocolate.  I read.  I go for walks with the pram.  I talk to friends.  I eat at least two pieces of fruit a day (new research shows this helps women combat depression, plus it's yum).  I write.  I appreciate the small things and allow small snippets of time for myself.  And I ask for help when I need it so I can stay ok.

I am just so fortunate to have so many people available to give me that help.  My biggest wish is that all parents have the same support that I do.

* And thanks to everyone who has offered even more help since the last post.  Again, I am so, so lucky!

On six weeks in with a newborn and a toddler

This is ridiculously hard.

It is difficult to understand why anyone would do this on purpose. This sort of age gap is only for the insane, the martyr or those with miraculously perfect children.

I am none of the above.  I would never choose this for myself or anyone else.

If Abby were a baby like Etta was it would be hard but ok.  But Abby is not.  Abby is a baby that cries most of the time.  Abby will only sleep for a period longer than 20 to 30 minutes if she is on someones person.  Abby is a baby that needs to be held on a certain angle.  Who will cry whilst held for up to three hours with only short breaks for breathing between bouts even though she has a clean nappy, a fully tummy and a loving family.  Who will scream while I am trying to get her to latch onto my boob and will forget how to latch because she is so upset.

Etta caught in a tiny moment of loving her sister

And there is nothing medically wrong with her.  I took her to the Drs.  I checked.  I was guiltily sad to hear that nothing was wrong - that there was no medical explanation for this behavior.  Apparently, this is just how some babies are.  It's hard to believe this and not convince yourself the problem is just cos you're a crap mother.  That having babies truly is like playing lotto.  That it's not all your fault you can't get your baby to simply not cry.*

And if you attempt to leave the house to escape the insanity that is your house because your baby cries all the time you are guaranteed to have at least one (usually several) people tell you that you need to feed your baby.  Because your baby is crying.  Because your baby cries almost all the time.  And if you have your baby in a pram, because you need your hands to, I don't know - pay for things, or maybe just feel like your own for a bit then if your baby is mine it will cry.  Because it's not being held by someone.  And then you kinda almost wish you'd never left the house because you feel the hot prick of tears at your eyes and you don't want to cry in public.  But you kinda do just to see if anyone asks if maybe you are hungry because you are crying.  Or says something nice.  But you don't cry because you know the truth is that just more people will stare at you because you look mad.  Like a mad, bad mother.

And I know this will not last forever and that things can change.  But I also know this works both ways.  Since my darling big girl turned two it's like some sort of naughty switch went on.  She no longer listens.  Not to me, or anyone else.  She suddenly talks in gibberish a lot of the time.  Her tantrums are increasingly aimed toward me and Abby.  She has slapped, kicked and bit me on purpose and regularly tries to sneaky-kick her sister.  I totally understand that she is upset as her entire life has been turned upside down by this small, crying thing.  And this is not helped by the normal developmental changes she is going through at this age.  What I don't understand is how families survive this stage.

And I don't understand how people sleep train their subsequent children.  It was hard enough with just one baby let alone with a toddler in tow.  I don't even know where to start.  I am grateful that Etta at least understands that when Abby is crying she needs her Mummy and is ok with me rushing her bedtime routines on the occasions where I'm going it alone and therefore have to put the baby down.  But I can't see how people manage to put sleep routines in place for their newborns who don't want to sleep.  How in the fuck do you find 20 minutes to peacefully pat your baby to sleep in their crib?  I mean, without a toddler screaming at you and shaking said crib and dragging blankets off your baby.**  I can't even give Abby a feed most of the time without having to interrupt it to stop her sister from imploding the universe ie: pulling all of Murray's Eurogames out of the boxes and scattering them to the ether.

And when I do get the will-not-sleep-not-on-people baby to sleep in her bed (a rare but treasured event) I have to guard the room like mad because Etta will just bang on the door and scream.  Because even though Abby sleeping equals me having more one on one time for Etta, Etta doesn't understand that.  And she hates closed doors.  And toddlers are irrational, crazy, giant headed tiny people.

Seriously.  Most days I feel a lot like I'm at the beginning of the 12 Step program.  Every day I count the hours (sometimes minutes) until help, or my partner will be home so I'm not alone in this insanity that is my current state of Mummydom.  You can probably hear me muttering God grant me the serenity... under my breath at any given time of the day (or night) and I'm not remotely religious.  I simultaneously must suppress urges to get absolutely rollicking drunk just to escape things for a few hours, instead replacing 'hammered' with 'clean' and taking those few moments where I'm not holding a baby or placating a toddler to shower or (on rare occasions) bathe.

And I have help.  I have help almost every day.  Not all day, but for at least an hour or two.  And I have one whole day a week from 9 - 5 without Etta.  And I have one or two days a week where Mum is here from pretty much 9 - 5 (and sometimes longer).  And I have a partner who, whilst out 11 1/2 hours for work on weekdays (because that's just life in Auckland) is a super hands on Daddy on the weekends.  And it's still this hard.  During the week Murray and I only have usually 15 minutes to an hour of being together and awake and not being screamed at.***  So most of the important conversations you normally have, and regular life events get missed because there just isn't time.  At the moment it's purely about survival for both of us.  And while we each try and support the other, for sanity's sake we also each have to put our own needs first.  After that of the screaming child (cos if their needs are met they might stop screaming for five minutes so we can pee or eat).

How do single parents do this?  How do people with families in other countries (or other parts of the country) do this?  These parents need medals (or maybe something more useful, like sleep) cos seriously - how the fuck do they survive it alone?  How do toddlers not get scurvy from surviving on toast and cereal?  How do subsequent children survive without being accidentally killed by their elder sibling?****

These things are the true miracles of parenting two under two (or a six week old and a two year old).

(image stolen from a friends Facebook page - completely accurate depiction)

* And she doesn't have reflux or silent reflux - I don't think so anyway.  She's gaining weight and not spilly although gets sore lower tummy stuff.  I've taken dairy out of my diet and it's helped with this immensely, but not with the having to be held all the time thing.  Next step is checking out osteopathy (once I've magically had a chance to talk to Murray about it, but who knows when that will happen).

** Or destroying the rest of the house if you shut them out of the room.  Or attempting to break down the door.  Both of which Etta has done when I have attempted this.  Mostly just while I'm attempting to feed Abby.

*** We spend most of it watching MKR and taking turns eating as too shell shocked to do much else.

**** And how do women manage to buy well fitting bras?  I mean, whilst juggling a crying newborn and a toddler who needs a leash and having to get specialty maternity bras cos Farmers doesn't seem to go much beyond an E cup and my F cup doth runneth over.  How do they manage to leave the house in clothes that fit well and don't make them look like a homeless person?  How do they manage to bend over to put shoes on whilst holding a baby?  So many questions!!!