Botched 1st Birthdays, Leslie Knope, & the Speaking Universe

Sometimes staying positive is difficult.

The last six months have brought one heartbreaking situation after another, for friends and family.
I've stopped expecting things to be normal -- what does that word even mean? But will things will ever level off? Could we get over the last catastrophe before the next one emerges? 

Staying positive is important. Sometimes you have to work at it. I find that episodes of Parks & Recreation (more on that later) and Pumpkin Spice Lattes help.

But seriously, sometimes you have to determine what the universe is saying (or SHOUTING).

The Early Bird's first birthday was especially important to me. He started out as a 1 lb 15 oz micro-preemie in the NICU and in one year, became a 15 lb rambunctious, crawling little boy.

I ordered fancy birthday invitations. We planned a party and invited friends and family. I had multiple cakes planned.

And then....life happened.

Well, Croup happened. Just a few days before his birthday.

If you are not familiar with Croup, let's hope it stays that way. It's nasty. Wheezing, choking, gagging, projectile vomiting nastiness. The wheezing portion is particularly disturbing, as it evokes any idea you might have of what complete respiratory distress might sound like. There were multiple trips to the doctor and steroid injections involved, culminating in a trip to the ER on his actual birthday.

So there was no "1st" birthday party. There was no smashing-of-the-cake and frosting-in-the-face and all that standard jazz.

Baby Boy's Simple Cake

But I was determined that Baby Boy would still have his cake. Until I realized that he needed to be held and comforted more than he needed a fancy birthday cake (DUH ~ universe speaking to me).

I then promptly abandoned my fancy cake plans and finished his carrot cake with a simple goldfish border and let him have at it. I did manage to get a picture, before the ER debacle. (And I mean debacle. As in, q-tips-down-the-throat, chest x-rays, breathing treatments, we-think-he-has-whooping-cough, complete drama, oh wait, maybe we should actually consult with a pediatrician debacle ~ separate story).

My Balloons (Not Pictured!) Are More Interesting Than Cake

Ok, Maybe This Cake Is More
Interesting Than Those Balloons....

Party or no party...cake or no cake...Baby Boy got better and didn't look back.

Today he toddles around with the help of furniture or anything else he can get his hands on, mobile or immobile. He brings young light to a world in which I am often consumed with the nitty gritty details of aging. He keeps me positive.

Now back to Parks & Recreation.

I think it's especially hard to be positive right now. The negative campaign ads are everywhere--radio, TV, email, snail mail, phone calls. I don't know if I can handle another three weeks...

Leslie Knope, 2012 Pawnee city council candidate in NBC's Parks & Recreation, has some important lessons to teach us about staying positive. I think all political candidates should follow the Leslie Knope model of taking the high road when it comes to negative campaign ads.

The following clip is a negative ad that Leslie's campaign manager Ben created. Leslie refused to run this negative ad:


Instead, Leslie found a way to make a positive campaign ad, when everyone thought it wasn't possible:



In fact, I think this is what we all need to do. Personally, professionally, politically, whatever. Find a way to find the positive. And when you find yourself in a run of this-isn't-what-I-planned situations, ask yourself what the universe is trying to tell you.

The Quilts of the Ronald McDonald House

A year ago right now I traveled to Rochester, Minnesota to live at the Ronald McDonald House while my baby boy was in the hospital. I took these pictures to show others just how amazing this place is. I focused mainly on the artwork and quilts, but there is so much more to say about such an amazing place. The artwork and quilts are only one small part of what RMH does to make people feel at home, even in the most difficult of circumstances.




I can't express what it means in difficult circumstances to have a place to call home.

12 Months

I finally completed the 12 month slideshow. This is a quick glance at our year in review, from 1 lb 15 oz baby boy to 15 lb 10 oz one-year-old baby boy!

12 Month Slideshow

I have been experimenting with different ways to use digital pictures. I used Animoto for this slideshow and I am stunned how quick and easy it was. In only a few minutes, I created the Animoto account, uploaded my pictures, chose music, and produced the video. The downside is that the free account limits you to 30 second videos.


Make your own slide show at Animoto.

12 Months

In about 3 weeks, my early bird, who weighed 1 pound 15 ounces at birth, will be 1 year old. I am working on the slideshow below to show how much he has changed; the 11 and 12 month photos have not been taken yet. I also want to create a "Year in Review" slideshow with more pictures. I have so many pictures of the neonatal intensive care unit, the special care nursery, the Ronald McDonald house, and coming home.

A year has passed and yet I feel like I am only starting to regain my energy. I don't mean physical energy, as in, I felt up to cleaning the house or exercising (although that has only recently improved as well). I mean vital energy, like the type of energy that drives you to pursue your passions or do something for yourself or even to be in tune to what is going on around you, so you can be an advocate for yourself or someone else.

I remember May 2011 like it was yesterday. I remember Memorial Day weekend, and I had just made the season's first batch of rhubarb jam. We had a particular vision of what the summer would be like...working in our garden, preparing our baby's nursery, attending the birthing classes.

But a few nights later, while sitting on a birthing ball in our first Labor & Delivery class, I felt a warm gush and....suddenly I was on a helicopter to a hospital with a neonatal intensive care unit. Everything gets a bit fragmented after that, but I hope to spend some time these next few weeks looking back at my journal and remembering the events surrounding the arrival of our little early bird.

Nursing Strikes

Did you ever hear of a nursing strike? The La Leche League Womanly Art of Breastfeeding Guide reads. It’s when a baby abruptly refuses to nurse.

First drops of milk I
ever pumped, while still
in the hospital.

My start with breastfeeding was a bit unique – pumping around the clock for almost three months before my premature baby could even attempt to breastfeed – but we did manage to make it work, with the help of lactation consultants, hospital grade breast pumps, nipple shields, galactagogues, and various other techniques, and it worked relatively well…until…

I went back to work.

Then the nursing strikes began.

Given how hard I’d worked to protect baby boy’s milk supply, I was devastated.

I consulted several sources I had been referred to by various lactation consultants. A nursing strike could be teething related or due to a number of issues, these sources suggested. A common suggestion attributed nursing strikes to the baby receiving too many bottles.

I did not find these suggestions particularly helpful for the working mom, much less for the working mom nursing a premature infant. A popular suggestion from these sources is to discontinue all bottle feeding immediately…feed the baby with a spoon or an eye dropper… take your baby to bed with you for a “nurse-in” and breastfeed only for as many days as possible.

Feed him with an eye dropper? Are you kidding me? He sucks down four ounces at a time. Feeding him with an eye dropper would be like dangling a piece of meat in the mouth of a lion. Not to mention that unfortunately I can’t do extended nurse-ins. I went through eight years of sick time to be with my baby while he was in the NICU.

Last year we had $300,000 worth of medical bills. I have to work. I have to provide health insurance. So I cannot have nurse-ins. I cannot feed him with an eye dropper.

Despite my reservations, I tried what suggestions I thought were feasible for us. Like trying different nursing positions. Nurse him standing up. Nurse him while walking around. Nurse while lying down. Nurse when he’s drowsy. Pump first to get the milk to let down, then nurse him. Imagine me running around the house trying all these different things—a process I will refer to as the breastfeeding dance. If a person had any reservations about nursing in public, imagine doing the breastfeeding dance with a nursing striker. If I have to stand on my head, clap six times, and do a special dance to get him to nurse, it’s one thing for me to do it at home, but another thing to do it out in public! Obviously I had to start bringing bottles with me so I had a means of feeding him when he wouldn’t nurse (a big no-no in the sources I've been mentioning). But in my opinion, that baby needs to be fed, one way or another.

Baby boy! 9 months old

One day, after doing the breastfeeding dance, baby boy was lying beside me in our bed and he just sat there and looked at me. He looked so peaceful and trusting. Big eyes. I had been really worried about him, about the nursing strikes and was he getting enough and what should we do. In that moment he looked at me and I just felt like he was saying, mom, I’m ok. It’s fine. And then I realized that perhaps I needed to go with his cues. Perhaps I was having trouble letting go because I had worked so hard to provide his milk. I realized that he primarily preferred bottles during the day and nursing at night. Why wouldn’t he, after all, since that is his routine for most of the week. I decided to just go with it.

All the bottles and pump parts
that need to be washed multiple
times per day.

Baby boy had breast milk exclusively, whether by bottle or breast, until he was seven months old. After that we had to supplement with formula. The first time I mixed up the formula I was astounded. One scoop for every two ounces of water. He gulped it down. The whole process took only a few minutes.



I was astounded. For nine months, I’ve spent around 20 hours per week pumping and washing pump parts, between work and home.

It’s free. Plus it is what’s best for the baby. These were my thoughts (in that order) about providing breast milk when I first found out we were expecting.

Providing breast milk is what's best for the baby. I view it as the most important thing I've ever done, and I would do it all over again. But I wish someone had given me a realistic view of it and prepared me for the fact that pumping and providing milk would be equivalent to a part-time job.

Sign outside the pumping room
at work...let's just say there have
been walk-ins!

My point is this. If you know someone who is breastfeeding or expressing breast milk and bottle feeding, perhaps you will now have some insight into how hard she is working, how many challenges she may be facing just to provide milk for her baby. Give her a pat on the back. Assure her that any amount of time providing breast milk is amazing and she should be commended. Remind her that she is the only one who knows what is best for her and her baby.

Sweethearts

I meant to say it at Christmas. I meant to say it on Valentine's Day. I meant to say it all year. I am filled with gratitude. My heart could just burst.

As I wrote in an earlier post, The Ambivalent Parent, I was never sure I wanted to be a parent.

But now that he's here, and as hard as some things have been (with his premature arrival), taking care of Wesley has been my greatest honor, and my most important achievement.

I have everything I could ever want. Anything more is just a bonus.

And, I resolve to write more. I have a lot more to say. Hopefully I still have some readers out there.