Biological Imperative

What is it about feeding that is so emotionally important to Mom?

There's a recent trend to push mothers to breastfeed. Of course it is the best food for a newborn, tailor-made to an individual baby's needs, chock full of antibodies and fats and goodies vital for a newborn's health and survival. Breastfeeding provides the perfect food in the perfect amount at the perfect temperature in the perfect delivery system. It provides quiet bonding with your angelic newborn who suckles peacefully at the breast. Just look at all the paintings of Madonna and Child and the living image of Charity and Generosity a la the Milk of Human Kindness. Get it?

Kaiser Willhelm is displeased with his teddy bear suit

However, no lactation consultant or breast feeding educator tells a new mom how freaking hard it can be. Add the emotional and social pressure of How Good Breastfeeding Is For Baby and it becomes just that more important to succeed. Our educator, the nurses, the OB and pediatrician all told us that, barring anything physiological, there is no good reason NOT to breastfeed. Oh and there were studies, the educator said, that proved that breastfed babies were smarter, healthier and happier than formula babies.

It has been an exercise in patience and frustration. Will lacked a coordinated suck. He would latch to the breast, shallowly, grind my nipple to blisters and then get frustrated because he was not getting enough milk. Couple the lack of suck (or the suckiness of the lack of milk), with the general exhaustion of being the first time parent of a newborn and it can add up to a very emotional and frustrating experience.

We did meet with a lactation consultant as well as our pediatrician but Will was losing too much weight in too short of an amount of time (he'd lost 13% of his birthweight by the second week, which was worrisome) and had to supplement with formula for a little bit. To ensure Will was getting enough to eat we introduced breastmilk in the bottle. At that point Will discovered it was much easier to get milk from the bottle, and we discovered it was easier and more efficient to bottle feed him. We could tell how much he was eating when he finished a bottle and he seemed happier and slept longer after eating. Now we are pretty much exclusively pumping and bottle feeding. Will still gets the benefits of breast milk and it is just much more efficient to feed him with a bottle at this point. I still try to get him to take the breast, but am always ready with the bottle when he gets frustrated. Breast feeding is slipping away.

At first I was upset with this arrangement. However, three weeks and many lost hours of sleep later we move further into bottle feeding and further away from breast feeding. I worry that my milk supply won't keep up with his increasing need for milk, but I am doing my best. I'm pumping regularly and supplementing with Reglan (a prescription medication I take to increase milk supply), fenugreek (an herbal supplement supposed to help with the same) and pumping approximately every three hours. I am pumping with a Medela Pump In Style double electric breast pump. All of these things are supposed to help increase my milk supply and I suppose time will tell if we need to supplement with formula. Hopefully we can avoid it even though I know formula is fine for babies. There is just something fundamental and vital about being able to provide this basic food for my newborn that I cannot deny.

Milk Breath

Medical Management

The Magi in Attendance

I was treated to the buffet of medical options during my labor. I had intended on laboring naturally without drugs or an epidural, however I'd heard that pitocin (the drug used to jumpstart labor) induced very strong and powerful contractions. I wanted to feel those contractions before I decided whether or not to labor without medical intervention.

My water broke on Thursday, January 28th, late in the evening and by early Friday morning Dave and I were at labor and delivery. Immediately I was hooked up to an IV (inhibiting my ability to move around), given fluids and strapped to fetal and uterine monitors. Soon after I was given an injection of pitocin. Pitocin is a synthetic version of oxytocin given to women in labor to stimulate contractions. The prevailing concern was that because my water had broken and I was not in active labor, that there was a risk of infection.

At midday, as my contractions grew stronger and closer together I decided on some pain management and completely abandoned my original plan to labor naturally. I felt that, having experienced regular contractions, and having the ability to mitigate my pain, I could chose the managed option. I opted for fentanyl, a narcotic which would not harm the fetus this early in labor and would give me a little relief from the relentless oceanic pain of the contractions. Fentanyl was fun. It allowed me to focus a bit on things other than the immense pain of the contractions and to drink a little water and talk with Dave and the medical staff.

At this point I had been laboring on pitocin for 14 hours. I kept rolling back and forth in the bed to mitigate the pain of the contractions and the monitors strapped to my belly would intermittently cease working as they shifted off of pulse points.

The medical staff (the second, day shift had joined us at this point) decided to place an internal fetal and uterine monitor inside me. Very painful. Enough said.

As the fentanyl wore off I asked for an epidural. The labor was long, I was tired and hungry and wanted to move things forward. I still had not reached transitional labor (the stage of labor right before you should start pushing).

The epidural was heaven! Such sweet relief. Unfortunately, the combination of the pitocin and the epidural impacted my blood pressure negatively. My blood pressure dropped dangerously low, Will's heart rate dropped dangerously low and all things combined enough to alarm the medical staff enough to prompt prep for an emergency cesarean section kit. I was too sleepy to fully understand what was happening, Dave was somewhat concerned, however. All of a sudden he focused completely on me sitting no further than three feet away for several hours and being totally, fully present.

The medical staff turned down the pitocin, turned up the fluids and turned off the delicious epidural and my body was better able to regulate itself. As soon as all pain relief was turned off, I started to go into earnest, intense transitional labor (almost 24 hours after I was admitted to the hospital). So I was treated to a somewhat mitigated somewhat natural labor and I avoided the c-section and Will was born healthy.

I do wonder what would have happened had I been allowed to labor naturally, to eat and drink during my labor and to have contractions without the aid of pitocin. There was, in my medical profile, no reason for me to have a c-section and I am glad I avoided such an invasive medical procedure. Every step along the way to the emergency c-section I almost had was one that was determined by a prior medical decision (the decision for pitocin, the decision for an epidural). Of course there were risks associated with laboring naturally and laboring for so long with a ruptured bag of waters. And of course I realize that the medical professionals who were attending me were doing absolutely the correct things according to the situation and to their training. I am grateful for the medical intervention I did receive and grateful that pain management was available to me. I do wonder, though.

Tentatively Stepping on a Milestone

I'm so excited, last night William slept the majority of the night in the pack n' play in our bedroom with us. This is HUGE. William has displayed a definite preference for his swing or us (our boy's a snuggler) over the large expanse of the pack n' play. Since we brought Will home, Dave and I have been taking three and four hour shifts on the couch in the living room while William slept in the swing or in his carrier. One of us would stay with William while the other lay down in the bedroom. It did not bode well for our beauty rest and we were becoming a little ragged. I know newborns can have awkward sleep schedules (except for newborn Dave- he slept through the night at week 2!) and that they would mix up their days and nights- being more wakeful in the evening hours, and I am profoundly grateful that Dave has had four weeks off so we could share in the sleep deprivation.

It seems that Will has decided to sleep more through the night and also has decided that his pack n' play is not so bad. It did not keep me from waking up every time our noisy little baby grunted, squeaked, groaned or farted. Nor did it keep me from checking on him when he was silent, but that's my issue not his. He was a star!

I hope this means that he will continue to approve of his new sleeping arrangement, and that also we can transition him to his permanent crib in a month's time. We will see. We know who's calling the shots these days.



Also, we've had some visitors! I was woefully underprepared. I have ONE picture of Uncle Jake holding Master William. So this is an appeal to those who've visited to send along some images for me to post. Whoops.

Uncle Jake and Young Will Rock

A Stand in Image- Torture The Dog
in the Name of Entertainment

Too Much Information?

Today we take William for his metabolic screening.

This is a standard test that is required for all Nevada newborns.

William is totally, 100% fine!

We are a week late with the test and it's even more urgent because the test we did at the hospital was compromised, meaning we have no information about his ability to metabolize enzymes and fatty acids.


Of course, from what we can see, smell and tell, Will has no metabolic issues that are currently inhibiting his ability to eat, sleep or poop. And sometimes that's what you need to go on. Does a lot of information give you control? Definitely, forewarned is forearmed, but it's easy to mistake MORE information for MORE control. Sometimes there are some things that are out of control and the best you can do is absorb the information and make corrections to the current course.

This last year (during my pregnancy) I read a lot of anecdotal information. I better absorb information from the method of "my friend had this and dealt with it this way," at least I'm more inclined to respond to a narrative than a white paper or peer reviewed journal. Other members of my family absorb information differently (looking in your direction, science guy). So I boned up on all the current hysteria: vaccinate? breastfeed or formula feed? sign language for babies? cry-it-out? attachment parenting? Not to mention all the material surrounding what to put into and what to avoid putting into my pregnant body. Coffee? No coffee? An occasional glass of wine? Beer? Sushi? Soft cheese? Deli salads? Hot dogs? White flour? Organic? Radiated? Microwaved? Steamed in humanely harvested yerba mate cups? Etc etc etc, ad infinitum.



It got exhausting. In my third trimester I made a conscious decision to be ignorant. Well, that's a broad stroke. I had the books (What to Expect When You're Expecting, The Happiest Baby on the Block, The Philosophical Baby, the Husband Coached Childbirth) in addition to message boards (too many to name) and weekly appointments with my OBGYN (who is my age, so I trust his ability to keep current on issues), and I didn't actively reject the information I had learned. I just decided that, for my own sanity, I would not absorb new and contradictory information (for example, I had been drinking one or two cups of coffee during my pregnancy, so I was not going to feel bad or anxious when another source of information declared caffeine as the devil). I decided that we had followed the advice of our professionals and that I would tryst my instincts regarding diet, activity, plans.


Of course, forewarned is forearmed, but in this age of wayyyyyyy too much information, sometimes you just need to go with your gut. Trust the professionals (doctors, science, sources) and be open to information, just research your sources and realize that opinions and trends change (I know that almost all of my peers and I were, as infants, put to sleep on our bellies and fed massive amounts of formula- exactly what medical professionals are telling new parents not to do these days), and that babies, despite the obvious floppy little bodies and inability to communicate beyond a fuss, a scream and a coo, are sturdier than we may at first believe. We are too and if we encounter some odd medical issue, we'll cope with it by changing course for new directions.

The Fundamental Level of Things

Master William J. is three weeks old now and changes every day.

This may seem pretty trivial, but our world has completely shifted focus. We are enslaved to this little being with a fundamental, gut-level desire to attend to his every need. It's particularly urgent when we can't exactly figure out what he needs- is it a diaper change? Food? Rocking and snuggling? Sometimes he's just vocal and wants walking around being gently jiggled.

He likes different sounds- water running in the tap, Tibetan Throat Singing (no joke), and I think he's fond of Paul Simon's Graceland era music- so we spend time listening to "You Can Call Me Al," and "Crazy Love" in addition to earlier songs from the Simon-cannon (Kodachrome, Cecelia, anything with a fun beat, really).

(William, looking a little orange)

William seems to like his swing. He spends a lot of time snuggled up in there.
We bribed the dogs with treats.
They are really that respectful and attentive though.

We're trying to transition him to the pack n' play in the bedroom for bedtime. It hasn't really worked yet. I get a little anxious wondering if we're already "failing" as parents. Failing to establish a routine, failing to position him where and when we want him to sleep, failing to comfort him enough so that he feels snuggly in the pack n' play as well as the living room. Then I step back a bit and realize he's only three weeks old, has a little time to adjust and will, eventually, acclimate to new environments. In fact, he may be busy acclimating to his post-uterine environment now and can only handle so many adjustments at a time.

Let's not forget who the real stars are around here.

So, it's all good. A learning experience. Many many parents told me over and over again that it would be a profound experience, that having a child would totally change my life. Of course, I was like: well, duh. And of course it has changed my life, Dave's life, the pets' lives. Of course. It's a feeling I experience every moment in my bones and heart.

Some more images for your enjoyment!

Jumping on the Blogwagon!

William Joel Spero makes an appearance. We're starting a blog for friends and family to keep up with our firstborn's antics (you know, gas-faces, diaper quality, amounts eaten, etc).

Check back frequently for updates because the gas-faces change almost daily!