Category: Spawn

In his cot!

And I am not carrying him around the house in a sling, doing my poor crippled back in! And, for the first time in months, he fell asleep in the cot, without me having to cuddle him to sleep. I did sit in a chair beside the cot, and keep a hand on his chest as he fell asleep, but I was able to read a book at the same time.

It may not sound like much, but to me it is a minor miracle. Over the past few months he has been getting more and more dependant on me putting him to sleep, rather than him falling asleep on his own, and I was feeling more and more despair each day at the prospect of getting him to sleep. Last Tuesday, I decided that I was going to go back to the Tresillian method, and just wait out the inevitable pain.

Obviously, last week got the better of me, and I was gibbering mess by Wednesday afternoon. I gave up, and spent the last few days trying the “whatever it takes to get through the day” method. I hear this method is very popular with full time parents, but can lead to some long term issues!

It’s now an hour later, and he is still asleep! This must be the longest day sleep he has had in ages – barring those times when I have either slept with him, or just sat with him in the sling until he woke up.

And I have used my time constructively of course – I had a civilised lunch (with actual fresh vegetables – beats eating out of a can!), caught up on some email, chatted on the phone with a friend, and written a blog post.

I’ll clean up the kitchen during his next nap 😉

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Update: 8pm and he is asleep again after waking at 5.30pm for a meal. Again in his cot, with me sitting by his side. I did have to prop him up on a triangular pillow, which isn’t safe for overnight, so I’ll wait till he’s a little deeper asleep and take the pillow away.

It’s very hard work trying to lift such a huge head off those tiny little shoulders!

Inigo was much better yesterday (no spewing after expressed breast milk that had been in the freezer, but spewed after I fed him). Mum and dad took him for a few hours while I went to the RTA and Medicare to get stuff replaced. He slept well all night, and today it’s been more of the same. Sleeps well in the sling, but spews if I try to lay him in the cot.

So I have 2 clues. Either whatever was in the older milk didn’t disagree with him, or limiting the amount he gets minimises the spew. Of course it’s hard to control the amount he gets when breastfeeding, and that’s against the whole principle of breastfeeding being easy and convenient.

Or the spewing is psychosomatic? He’s punishing me for putting him in the cot?

Faaaaaark.

Anyway, I refuse to let it get me down (for too long), and I refuse to be the mother that obsesses over every little thing the offspring does. I am keeping a food diary, and will attempt to track his good and bad days, and I’ll blog about it when I need to vent. But he isn’t dying, he isn’t losing (too much) weight, and we will get through this.

Thanks for the support and suggestions, I am OK, and Inigo will be too.

A strange man asking to photograph your baby in a shop? Or finding your wallet isn’t in your bag a little while later?

I hate the idea of a stranger going through my stuff. There wasn’t any money in the wallet, but it’s a hassle to get a new drivers licence, medicare card, credit cards, etc… And a possibly irreplaceable photograph of my grandmother.

But a wierdo hanging around the baby while my back was turned really freaks me out. Whether he took my wallet or not, it was a really horrible feeling, and I am reminded that my sunny desire to see the world as a happy place isn’t always realistic.

Of course, Inigo was looking spectacular yesterday as we cruised Broadway shops (Miriam and I took the babies to a French film in the morning). He was wearing a new Jam Tot’s Berry Plush nappy, with a jaguar print. And no shirt, because it was hot. Like a mini Johnny Weisemuller. Or “George of the Jungle” for the younger folk. The boy had loads of admirers, in one shop it got quite embarrassing. Before my wallet got pinched, I bought him a classy t-shirt that says “Chicks Dig Me”.

Inigo at 11am last Tuesday, after screaming and puking from 9am till 11. We are both very relieved at this point!

That’s how much weight Inigo has put on in the last two weeks. Which Lyn (the baby health nurse) and I were really worried about, until we plotted his weight on an expanded chart, and it seems that his weight is following the curve for the 10th percentile. His height (length) is spot on the 50th percentile. So while he is a skinny little thing, he is growing, and following a normal pattern.

The good news is, he’s been on the Losec for about 10 days, and he is doing really well. His crying episodes now seem to be related to tiredness (and sometimes crankyness) rather than intestinal torment. He’s still crying, but it’s gone down to what might be considered normal in a baby his age.

I realised last week that I was living my worst nightmare – before he was born, my worst fear was that I would have a baby that cried inconsolably, and until recently, that is what I was living with. And although it has been horrible, I have coped much better than I thought I would. And as he gets older, and happier and calmer, he is much more fun to be around. He is laughing more readily now, and the cuteness factor is off the scale.

And one up side of the slow weight gain? When it gets cold enough to wear his woolies, some of them will still fit!

I’ve basically recorded and uploaded this so that I have a record that I can show to the next doctor I see. I have a feeling that actual video of what I have been using words to explain might help the doctors to take me seriously.

Inigo screams and screams, I hate giving him drugs, but I hate seeing him in pain even more. So if there is a drug I can give him that will prevent the pain, rather than just covering the symptoms, I think I should pursue it. Giving him Mylanta after every feed isn’t an answer in my book.

BTW, if I’ve seemed a little tense lately, and burst into tears at the drop of a hat, this goes a long way to explaining it.

This morning, I thought I heard a precursor to a giggle, and I wondered if we might be getting some laughter from the boy soon.

I went over to Sally’s house for a pleasant afternoons knitting, leaving the boy with his dad. When I got home, he giggled!

Mark heard the first one, and called me in, then we had a second and third. Actual, real, proper, laughing and giggling.

The. Cutest. Thing. Ever.