Piggysnoot

Dear Nora,

We survived another week, little one. This week went slightly better…and when I say slightly I mean a tiny tiny bit. You and I have got the nursing thing down pretty well by now, and I am amazed that it’s become so much easier so quickly. Last week I would’ve guessed it would be years before we had this down, and this week I’ve nursed you at grandma’s house and at the doctor’s office…both of which were not the ideal situations but we managed just fine. While we’re talking about that, I have a question for you. Do you enjoy getting hungry in public? Seriously, I’m working on the whole boob-out-in-public thing and you’ve decided to just force me to jump right in. How can I resist feeding you while you’re crying? I can’t. In fact, I’m pretty surprised at myself. Both public boob appearances didn’t bother me much…I didn’t even hesitate to whip up my shirt…before I could even think about it.

I am learning so much from you. I’ve learned that I can, in fact, breastfeed you in public. I’ve learned a small amount of patience…but that’s one I’m still working on…and you seem to enjoy being my teacher for daily patience lessons. This whole patience thing reminds me of an episode we had earlier this week. You had been crying for well over an hour…screaming inconsolably…wanting to nurse but then not actually eating…after a little bit, I figured I’d check your diaper. You were wet…not a big deal. The big deal comes in when you pooped on me. We’re talking you shot poop out of your butt…all over my hands…runny poopie on my hands. To say the least, this was rather frustrating. Immediately after this incident, before I could even get you cleaned up, your Daddy came home. Thank the Good Lord for him. He came in the bedroom…saw me with poop on my hands…saw you screaming your head off…and heard me say the worst thing ever. I looked at him, and very matter-of-factly said, “I don’t even like her anymore.” Let me just explain that I love you more than anything. But as I explained to your Daddy, a person can love someone…whilst not liking them very much at the current moment. At any rate, I didn’t mean that I don’t like you…it was something said in the heat of a very frustrating moment. One day you’ll have a child that screams for hours that will then poop on you…and for a very fleeting moment you may say that you don’t like that child…but I promise, it won’t be the truth.

You’ve started pooping again because you haven’t had anything but breast milk since the belly situation last week. This is good news. The not so good news is that you had diarrhea for two days this week. We called the pediatrician (for the 8th time since you were born), and they wanted to see you to make sure you weren’t dehydrated. Turns out you weren’t dehydrated…in fact you had gained two ounces since we had been there the week before. The doctor said you probably had some sort of viral infection that was giving you diarrhea. Lovely. Apparently it’s something that has to run it’s course. One of the only things that has seemed to comfort you the last few days is nursing…only you’re not eating…you are using me as a pacifier. Your Daddy went and bought you a new pacifier because we thought you didn’t like the one we had. Nope. You didn’t like the new one either. That’s okay, though. I’ve figured out how to trick you. I get you latched on…and when you’re nice and sleepy I unlatch you…and put in the pacifier. It’s worked so far which is great because I am starting to get war-torn nipples from constant nursing.

One last thing I feel the need to address…I need to apologize for poking you. There are times you’re sleeping that your Daddy and I feel the need to poke you to make sure you’re still breathing. You scrunch up your face like you’re pissed…and continue sleeping. You have to understand that you are so peaceful and still when you’re sleeping that we just need to do that sometimes. I think this is another thing you’ll understand when you have children of your own.

Love,
Mommy

Seeing Larry with Nora is just too fun! Yesterday she wouldn’t quit crying so he put on a puppet show for her with her teddy bear that lives in the corner of her Pack ‘N Play…the teddy had the cutest little teddy bear voice…the dialog went something like this:

“Hey Nora. I’m the Swear Bear. Now I know bears aren’t supposed to swear. But could you quit the damn crying? I mean s.h.i.t. This is ridiculous. If you don’t quit the crying, I’m going to climb up there in the middle of the night and bite off your nose. Yeah. I’m not playing around. I’ll really bite it off. Yeah, it’s going to hurt. Then I’ll bite off your ear, and maybe take a chunk out of your thigh. So knock it off, would ya?”

Dear Baby Nora,

Today you are one week old, and to say that this week has been trying, frustrating, and daunting does not do it justice. You didn’t latch on to nurse very well so we had to supplement with formula at first. This caused you the bellyache of the century that is still raging today. You haven’t slept or pooped hardly at all for two days. Your Daddy and I are exhausted, little one. I’ve figured out that the only way you’ll sleep when your belly is hurting is to lay propped against my chest. This means we’ve spent more time in Grandpa’s easy chair the last two nights than in our own beds. Last night I tried to talk you into sleeping in your own bed by pointing out that you can’t sleep with me in the chair forever…scarily enough, I’m not sure you’d mind at this point. The doctor we talked to on Sunday morning said we could give you a suppository…Grandma got the honors for that one…keep that in mind when you read this and you’re 17 years old…your Grandma put stuff up your butt…and strangely enough, you didn’t seem to mind much.

You haven’t had formula since yesterday morning so we’re hoping this incessant screaming is over soon. You and I are finally getting the nursing thing down on the left side, but you want nothing to do with my right boob. What’s up with that? I keep telling you they have the same stuff inside but you don’t seem to believe me. I think now it’s more of a mental block for both of us, and since we seem to be equally stubborn, I fear it may be a long rough road for a few days.

There have been fantastic moments the last week, too…my favorite of which is watching your Daddy with you. You have him wrapped around all ten of your little fingers already. He does this cute thing where he holds your feet and makes your chubby little legs move so fast like you’re running…you love that so much that you almost smile. When you do manage a smile you show off the most beautiful dimples…those dimples came straight from your Daddy. You also seem to like it better when he changes your clothes and diapers than when I do. I think it might be because he’s faster than I am…that or because he uses that special voice that he only uses with you. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world to see the two of you together.

Love,
Mommy