Finding Zen

My 10wk Old Punkin Seed

You will be 10wks old on Monday.  We all have taken to calling you our "Little Punkin Seed"and none of us are quite sure why or how that came to be.  I'm sure you think this is your name.  Your social security card arrived in the mail the other day, and you will be relieved to know - it does NOT say Punkin Seed Pitts.  You are Oban.  Pronounced "oh-ben" - and for the record, I petitioned for the spelling OBEN - so every time you get "OHH-BAN" in your life, you can thank your dad for that.  And your Uncle Tate. 

Here is the back-story for your name.  Oban is a cute little town in Scotland your dad and I spent some time in while we traveled the year after we got married.    Okay so that's a lie.  The truth is we never made it to Oban.  We were staying at this fishery near a beautiful fjord on the west coast of Ireland called Lenaun.  The morning we were leaving we ran into some Brits we chatted it up with.  We told them we were heading to Scotland and the recommendation was to visit Oban.  The postcards look really cool.  I promise.

The honest to goodness truth?  You will appreciate your names origination when you are in college - until then your friends parents will just think your dad and I are really pathetic and they'll feel sorry for you.  Fast forward to a few months before you were conceived.  We were having a beer at a local pub playing the name game (which your dad HATED - he totally wanted to name you SHONDOR.  you can thank ME for that veto).   We looked up on the large chalk board behind the bar with its list of fine whiskeys and saw the name Oban.   We reminisced about our travels and how we never made it there - but my, what a cool name!  We could name our boy Oban!  Your dad was sold, and I never could convince him any other name would do.  You would have been Max.  Just like the other 20 kids in your class.  So yeah, you are named after a whiskey - but a FINE WHISKEY - we would never have named you after a shitty whiskey. 

So just do yourself and us a favor - and hold off on that explanation until your 21.  (okay fine, 18 - we all know you will have one of those nasty malt beverages before then).  Until then you can just say "It's a Scottish name, and my dad's side is from Scotland".   Which is the truth.  So there is your non-alcoholic version.

Moving right along.  You are so awesome.  I'm going to get really mushy here - you can deal with it.  You are seriously the coolest little man - I feel so lucky every day I have to spend with you.  You are so beautiful and so sweet, and your smiles just melt us all!  You have doubled your birth weight and the doctor says you are doing push-ups like a 4month old so we have to start really watching to be sure you don't dismount your changing table while we dispose of your stinky butt diapers (which are cloth, thankyouverymuch to all the naysayers who were placing bets on how long it would take for me to give that up).  Your dad would love to get you a kayak for xmas, but I'm thinking it may be a little too soon for eddys and back-deck rolls. 

The first month or two was really TOUGH.  Until you starting flashing us those smiles, I really struggled with feeling connected to you.  Fortunately you are surrounded by so much love with our family and friends - you never made it out to the recycling bin where I thought about leaving you once or twice.  Please forgive me.  You will understand this one day when you have children of your own. 

But we're past that now - and its allllll good!  We made it through the gauntlet! And you still have all your toes.  Amen.  You are healthy, happy, growing like a weed, and the light of my life.  You made this Thanksgiving the best ever.  Maybe next year we'll let you suck on a turkey leg.

I love you the most.

Yo Mama.

8wks Post Partum

Almost 8wks.  Here we are.

 

 

Bonus shot - this kid is the bomb.

6 Week Update

I just want to say how much I appreciate all your stories and kind words of encouragement these past few challenging weeks.    Thank you.  Since getting pregnant, and even more so since having Oban - I notice there are several new readers.  And some of you who have been following for some time, but have only just recently commented.  If you are a reader and have a blog - please email me at findingzen@rocketmail.com or leave a link in the comments, so I can add you to my list and swing by to say 'hi' when I have the time.

Oban is now 6wks old.  Here we have the good, the bad, and the ugly:

The Good:

I am happy to report, there is GOOD - and figure I should tell you about it amidst all this talk of nipple carnage and flinging parasitic newborns.  I don't want to get so engrossed in the daily challenges and general fatigue that I forget to appreciate the awesomeness that is watching this child grow and engage in his new world. 

He is smiling now several times a day.  They are sweet yummy little grins that make your heart melt.  His head still smells better than a snickerdoodle.  His armpits and the folds in his neck?  Not so much.  I give him massages daily and can't get enough of all the peach fuzz covering his little arms.  He especially enjoys a good foot rub.  He is starting to enjoy being in the water and I love to watch the comfort of the warmth sink in and settle his face.  Night time is getting better - and most nights he goes down on his Boppy pillow in our bed - without much of a fight.  He'll sleep one long stretch of maybe 4hrs and then in 2 and 3 hr increments.  No more 2hr long scream fests.  There is a God.  During the day when he's not feeding or sleeping he is very content and engaging.  I savor these moments - they are better than homemade banana pudding, and thats saying a lot.

The Bad:

He is very gassy and I hate it for him.  It makes some of our feeding sessions extremely frustrating.  He writhes and wiggles and attempts gator rolls on my lap all the while stretching my nipple into a spaghetti noodle.  I have tried Mylicon and Gripe Water and they don't seem to help much.  And no - I'm not cutting out dairy or caffeine...or onions, chocolate, wheat, nuts, etc etc.  I see no correlation to anything in my diet and his gas pains and am of the opinion that his little digestive system just needs to mature.  And it has gotten better with time.  He no longer projectile vomits and doesn't spit up as often as he did in the first month. 

The Ugly:

I am still struggling with the anger feelings.  I have held and touched and had moments of trying to quiet him where the energy was BAD BAD BAD.  And I hate it, and I know its wrong, and I feel immense guilt.  It's always at night or in the early morning hours when he refuses to sleep and I am SO TIRED, and I just don't want to deal.  Every day I work at this - coaching myself into a calmer state - turning him over to Zack when I feel I cannot manage to soothe him without anger.  I have never hurt him nor do I worry that I might one day, but the bit of intensity that does come across to him when I get to end of my rope is completely unnecessary.   I don't know how single mothers do it.  I wonder if Ceasar Milan could help?   

I am desparate for breastfeeding to get better.  We are no longer having to use the bionic nipples, however - there is a gaping hole in my nipple that won't go away.  In addition both nips are so tender and sore, and they burn/sting to have anything touch them (I suspect thrush...but we'll see - Oban has no signs of it.  And yes - I've tried and am using the ever famous APNO! ;-).  I want to cry when I have to pick him up and have him on my chest.  There is milk EVERYWHERE in my attempt to expose them to air as much as possible.  I leak constantly.  There are milk droplets all over this house.  I sleep in milk.  I wake up in milk.   There is no end to the amount of laundry this produces...but thats really beside the point. 

I want to be able to look at my husband and not dread the thought of ever being intimate with him because OMFG(Becky) - my boobs have been hammered with the spiky end of a meat tenderizer, dowsed in alcohol, salted, and hung out to dry in the Arctic.  I want to sleep on my side or stomach without pain, pick up and feed my son without pain, and hug my husband - without pain.  I want to be able to workout without having to wear pads that make my boobs sweat, which makes my nips wet - which makes for a miserable stingy/painful workout.  I see how people choose to bottle feed.  It totally kicks  your ass if it doesn't come easy.

So there you have it.  I love this baby - he is so incredibly delicious I can't imagine anything more perfect.  But it is hard, tiring, trying work.  I can only hope to keep some perspective about this journey so that I don't miss anything I'll regret having not paid attention to in the future.  Because each day is a blessing - and I am eternally grateful for his life, in ours.

My Sweet Punkinhead Turdlette

 
 

This is how he sleeps most of the time.  He starts out like this...

and then ends like this:

 

You'd never suspect something so sweet could SUCK A PLUG out of your nipple.  Oh but it did...

 

Etsy Scores

I love Etsy.  I don't know why I bother going anywhere else to find cool stuff...

First up is a killer bag made of recycled wool and leather by Forestbound.  I'm in love with all of this designers bags.  It is as beautiful as it is here photographed (and her pictures are awesome).  I will be using this as my diaper bag.  Please spare me why you think that's a bad idea.  I'd rather be in denial and look good.

 

I was looking for a nursing cover (wouldn't want anyone to catch a glimpse of my bionic nipple) and came across these made by Pao Pao Baby.  Similar to the Bebe au Laits - but a bit more my style.  Made of unbleached cotton and with really cute felted details.  I love it!

  

Both of which just so happen to coordinate quite nicely with my 'birth gift' (spoiled rotten...i know!) from Vern.  My Hobo Lauren Vintage wallet.  Stylie.