Chronos vs Kairos

A book I read about 4th trimester talked about how western culture overemphasizes Yang energy - schedules, productivity, success, business.

And new motherhood is time of Yin, that few modern women have gotten to practice. Life with a newborn is intuitive and slow and unpredictable and hard to measure. A lot of it happens at night.

This reminds me too of the concept of Chronos "clock time" vs Kairos "God's growth time."

So much of pregnancy and the NICU stay happens with doctors, who use Chronos.
Weeks of gestation, centimeters dilated, ounces gained or lost per day, feedings every 3 hours, bilirubin count in the blood, milliliters of milk pumped, % of oxygen in the breathing tube.

I had to unlearn all this my first week of motherhood, and learn to do it the Kairos way. (I may not have figured it out so fast if I hadn't had these terms to help.)

The first big step was to abandon the aggressive pumping regimen. To decide to not work that hard toward a goal of exclusive breastfeeding, that it was more important that I have time to sleep and to hold my baby.

The next step was to move away from the "feed me change me" app.
Your baby should be pooping 4 times a day and peeing 6 and eating at least every 4 hours but not more than every 90 mins, and each meal should be 1-3 oz, and sleeping 16-20. How can you keep track of it all, when days are nights and is today Tuesday? Is it still 2019?

I'm not sure, but you find the baby's rhythm. We just know now, he's overdue for a poop. He'll probably wake up hungry in about 30 mins. He was awake for awhile, the next sleep may be long. That sleep was long, he may eat more this time.

The baby has no sense of time, but he as a cycle that makes sense. So his parents find their new cycle, working and resting in turns. It doesn't work to say, I'll nap 11-1 every day, you nap 3-5, and we'll divide the night exactly in half at 2:45 am. But we just alternate on and off, feed him, feed ourselves, take a break.

It's tiring but it works.
We've found our way to Kairos time pretty fast and it helps.

I feel like one of those rocket videos where the big huge booster pieces are falling off, but it keeps soaring. There goes the NICU monitors, there goes the pumping plan, we don't need to write down every pee and every ounce and every minute at the breast.

Tweaking the Common Advice

I don't think I'm ever having a second kid, but I feel ready to be "postpartum fairy" to my friends when their turn comes.

A couple of those things everyone says to new parents are so close to being useful, I've modified them for myself.

Instead of "sleep when the baby sleeps" try "the baby is down - what do you need to feel human?"
If you feel you can sleep and you're able to, that is the most important. But sometimes I'm too worked up to fall asleep or I'm feeling kinda energized. Maybe that time, when the baby sleeps I'll go for a walk or cuddle or eat or take a shower or catch up on some organization tasks that will make me feel like my old self.

Instead of "enjoy every minute!" try "Look for and savor those moments of wonder, delight, and belly laughter. Hopefully you get a few every day."

Feeding Challenges

Every new mom I know, and the parenting blogs, and the Ali Wong stand up special, described the first month of breastfeeding as very difficult.
Again I imagined all kinds of struggles - nipple pain, a baby who wakes every 40 minutes, a terrifying doctor's visit where you learn you baby has lost too much weight.

But my own struggle and solutions were something different. I did not expect that in the first week I would be nursing AND pumping AND formula feeding, but here we are.

Because my Bubbin spent his first 2 days in NICU with breathing aids, he was just on IV. They set me up to pump every 2 hours in the hospital, and when I went home I used my Spectra and brought it in for him.

I went from drops of colostrum on these cotton swabs, to fractions of mL in a syringe, to 1-2 Oz at a time. My milk came in, but not as much as if I'd been nursing him from day 1.

The NICU doc asked if he could formula supplement to get Inigo off the IV sooner and I agreed. I was so eager to have my own IV out after I delivered, and I wanted my baby as wirefree and fed as possible. I have never doubted that this was the right decision.

Here is another benefit of the NICU stay - I think 4 or 5 different lactation consultants came to help me. On day 4 or so I woke up pretty engorged. I got a couple breast massages that hurt as much as contractions, but got me unplugged. I learned how best to cycle between pump modes.

Bubbin still can't latch to me directly, but we learned how to with a nipple shield. (No tongue or lip tie, but he has a high palate, I have short nipples). It was really exciting to get to start nursing him, but the shield is another factor making my milk come in slower.

I hope to graduate from the shield eventually; maybe one day we'll just figure it out. Grateful to have it since it's protecting me from nipple pain & damage, but it is a pain to keep reattaching with every feeding. I don't think I would nurse outside my own home as long as I have to use that thing.

The day we left the hospital, the LCs presented me with a plan to work my way to exclusive breastfeeding.

I would feed on demand with the nipple shield. Before every feeding, I'd pump for a couple minutes to get things flowing.
After every feeding, I'd pump for 15 mins while Lorenzo supplemented with milk or formula.

Then someone had to wash all the pump parts, label the milk, run it down to the fridge if it wasn't enough for the next serving

I thought this sounded really intense.
I thought I'd try for a week.
Lasted 16 hours.

It was too much to both be up for every feeding.

I had my eye on the clock the whole time.
They told me to let him nurse up to 20 mins, but no longer so he wouldn't waste calories.

The first night home, he was eating every 2 hours and not sleeping in between.
(We think BC he was cold, he's been sleeping better since we changed the weight of pjs & swaddle he wears.)

I had a full nervous breakdown, my parents came over, and Lorenzo & I were both terrified.

I slept for 3 hours and announced the pumping regimen was over.

When my baby was hungry, I would let him nurse until he seemed sleepy or I seemed empty. Enjoy that bonding & give him immune protection.

Then, I'd offer him 2-3 Oz of formula, so I knew he was eating enough.

We did this for about a day and it seemed more manageable. I felt more like a mother and less like a milk robot. I realized, that first feed after I stopped pumping, that was the first time I fed my baby on my own - no nurses, no Lorenzo - and then just held him.
Every single other time, I'd handed him off quickly so I could go pump, or so he could go back for some medical treatment. I'd always had my eye on the clock. I'd never sang to him while he grunted and looked around the room in wonder until he got sleepy. I'd never had him fall asleep on me and I gently wrap him back up in bed. I cried from the joy I felt at finally bonding in this way and from the sadness when I realized how much I'd been missing out on this.

It was clear to me that time spent being his mother was more important than time spent pumping 8-12 times a day. And if that meant he'd stay on formula, so be it. I've never doubting this decision either.

And now only one of us had to do each feeding, and we got to skip the pumping & washing & running milk to the fridge part. So we each get to sleep soundly for about half the night, and often get another 1-2 hours while it's our turn on baby duty.

Monday morning, we visited the pediatrician. Her attitude is much more go with the flow than the hospital was, so I feel like I can trust my instincts more.
Bubbin gained 2 Oz since discharge, and doesn't get hungry more than every 2-4 hours, has all the diapers, so our ad lib seems to be working.

I love nursing him, even with the shield. And I'm glad that I can do that without worrying about my pain or his calories.

Besides the huge benefit of night sleep, formula feels more portable for now, while we are not yet latching pros. I can't nurse him yet without a shield and multiple pillows. We realized that this morning's feeding would happen at the pediatrician, so we took a bottle with us. (I'm sure I'm allowed to breast feed there, but I don't want to struggle with the shield in public.)

And I'm glad for all the pumping practice.

I'll still express when I feel like it. Often right after a shower, first thing in the morning, or if I skipped a feed. This will help keep my supply up, and get him as much milk as possible (without compromising my sanity).
I find the pumping kind of relaxing if I choose to do it and I can get a significant amount out.

After a few days at home, we got to retire some of the props & tricks they had sent us home with - the nipple shield, the syringe, the breast massage & pumping for 2 minutes before the feeding. The exact position of pillows mattered less with each passing day.

After a couple weeks, I began to feel frustrated that the nursing was not really progressing. I was pumping three times a day and getting 2-4 oz daily total from both sides. He would latch onto me sometimes, but usually only for a few slow minutes before he'd either fall asleep or become too frustrated & screaming to close his mouth, no matter how deep I shoved my nipple in there. 

It was a lot of effort for him to still be 90% formula. I felt that it was still worth it - even just one meal + a couple snacks of of breast milk a day could give him immune protection & digestion benefits & whatever magical supernutrients aren't in formula. The times he nursed were so sweet and felt like an important bond for us, but I never knew when exactly it would work out.
Some days, I wished my milk would dry up so I could just feed him one way instead of three. But I knew that if it did I'd feel sad and angry and afraid.

I didn't blame myself for biology that I couldn't change. I knew that my instincts and decisons were right - I never second guessed about starting formula in NICU, or that pumping 1 hour a day instead of 5 was a better balance for our family.
But some days I second guessed a lot of the micro decisions, wondering if I was missing some magic equation that would make everything easier and better.

Should I pump right after he eats or right before? One time he got hungry halfway through pumping and that worked well, but that's impossible to time for baby who eats every 90 minutes - 4 hours.
Should I try to get him to latch before the bottle, halfway through or after? There is a very narrow window where he's awake & hungry but not yet yelling about it.
How long should I let him scream in frustration before I offer the bottle? I know many moms & babies go through that to establish breastfeeding, but I also knew that I didn't have enough milk to give him a full meal, no matter how long he tried.

I went through labor all natural - no epidural, no pain meds, no IV - partly because I'd heard this could help establish breastfeeding in the first week. I read on the hippy midwife websites about the "golden hour" after birth where the baby snuggles on your chest and sometimes nurses for the first time.
I held my baby for 2 minutes the day he was born before he was rushed to the NICU. Eight hours after delivery, I waddled down to see him, all covered in breathing tubes and monitors and an IV. I asked the nurses if I could touch him and they said just one gentle still hand, it had taken so long to settle him to sleep. I placed my hand on his head and said goodnight and waddled back to my room in a daze. He was safe and I was going to get some sleep; I couldn't process any more than that.

Despite knowing that breastfeeding was a common challenge, and despite having great support from Lorenzo & my mom, I felt alone in the details of my struggle. I felt self conscious bottle feeding him in front of people. I wished that everyone who saw me give my baby formula could also see the hours I spent pumping to get drops, the hours I cried in frustration that I couldn't give my baby more. Earlier in my life, I made some assumptions that formula feeding was something a parent might choose to do flippantly, as a matter of convenience, and now I hated the idea that same judgement might come back at me.

At one point I said, I have never worked so hard at something I wanted to do so much and had so little to show for it.
But I had to tell myself - you have a thriving baby who gets bigger, stronger, and more alert every day and has been dazzling the pediatrician at his checkups. You have two new parents who are increasingly sane & confident, and finding more order and joy with each passing day.
I may not have much if you count the ounces of breast milk in the fridge, but in the big picture of parenting, we had a wonderful first month. 

Bringing Bubbin Home

I feel so lucky that my little guy seems to be an easy baby (so far).

He usually fusses for a reason - diaper, hunger, or being cold. And he'll calm down pretty quickly once we fix the problem.

He settles to sleep pretty well after he eats, and can sleep 3-4 hours at a time.

No tummy issues yet, he's a pro burper & pooper.

I wonder how much of that is temperament and how much is NICU training (and how much might change as he gets older). 

He spent a lot of time in his medical bassinet with people stopping by every few hours to feed & check on him.
Kind of had to learn to self soothe & sleep as he was.

I'm surprised that so far, minute to minute, I pretty much know what to do, tho the pace is a lot.
I thought there would be a lot more screaming that I couldn't solve.
That may come later, but I've built a lot of confidence in the meantime.

We've learned so much in just a few days.

Sometimes I still panic that he needs to eat so often and I'll never sleep again

But I'm proud that we have already established some rhythm & division of labor, and have organized our feeding supplies. Every day, we learn like 5 days worth.

I'm sleeping more than I expected to. The hormones and cognitive overload of the new everything and constant microdecisions mean I'm having trouble focusing and being productive when I am awake and peppy (and not mid-feed). But I'm trying to be patient with myself and hope that gets better in time.

I have all these to do lists - one offs, morning & evening routines for selfcare and for setting up the feeding station for that 12 hours. Having it all written down helps. Mr Cat & I have organized supplies and found a rhythm pretty fast. If Bubbin stays this chill and predictable, this month might actually be fun.

We're combo feeding - some nursing, some pumped milk, and some formula.
And knowing that I can hand the baby over to someone else for a few hours if I need to sleep or want to go somewhere gives me such peace of mind.
The escape hatch helps me find peace and joy when I take care of him in the night. I know I'll get to tap out as soon as I need to.
I didn't expect to enjoy being up at 1am with the baby at all, but it feels kind of blissful, like we're all alone in the world and I can sing to him and catch up on my phone messages and know that eventually we'll both go back to sleep.

I had a pretty intense breakdown on Sunday night, about the 24 hour mark of him being home. It was scary how quickly I slipped into all the PPD symptoms, and also surprising how quickly I rebounded after 3 hours of sleep and a new feeding plan.
I felt like I'm not allowed to have a hard time because I'm on easy mode - baby who sleeps more than fusses, amazing partner, grandparents coming over to help, my own physical recovery feels past tense.

Trying to lean into my mindfulness training - not look to the future of what if he gets colic, how will we return to work, what happens if he stops sleeping. But be like in this moment, love your baby, take a break to love yourself.
I'm realizing my own limit is about 6 hours before I need to lie down for a bit. I hope that we figure out what we're doing faster than he becomes more demanding...

Week 1 - silver linings of NICU

The first week of motherhood was very different than I expected. I imagined a stillbirth, a preemie, a serious disability, a life or death situation.
But I didn't know that a calm NICU stay was a thing.

Inigo breathed in a bunch of meconium during delivery, and then got jaundice.
It made me sad to see him have so many medical interventions that looked uncomfortable.
But he was full term, came out crying & flailing, so there was never a doubt that he was gonna be ok in the end.

I waddled down to see him about 8 hours after delivery (the rooms were NOT close). He had a CPAP and a breathing tube and they asked me not to touch him since he'd finally settled to sleep. I was kind of like, aight, he's safe, I'm gonna sleep and process this in the morning.

The nurse in my unit wanted me to go in a wheelchair and I was like honestly that sounds bumpy I'd be more comfortable walking. And she's like ok but you have to at least hold the wheelchair because you're a fall risk. And I was like why? Because you just had an epidural. Oh no I didn't! *brushed shoulders off*

I was discharged Tuesday morning, 48 hours after delivery, but Bubbin was going to stay longer. So Lorenzo and I drove home with no baby and cried a lot. But I was so relieved to be going to shower & sleep in my own house rather than deal with the cluster feeding I'd heard about.

I recovered quickly from the delivery, probably thanks to the rest (and maybe the womb tea). Everyone who examined my abdomen commented that my uterus had shrunk back really quickly. My perineum stopped hurting after a couple days, even with a 2nd degree tear and stitches. One week later, I look kinda flabby or poochy but not pregnant - much smaller than I expected.

Hormonally, I'm all over the place, but I know that's normal.

So, chance for me to recover between birth and 24/7 new motherhood - such a gift.



The other big silver lining was spending several days in NICU watching and helping the nurses do diapers and feedings and burping and swaddling and soothing and a bath. Honestly, this should be standard for all new parents.

We were sent home knowing that he was totally healthy. But it was a tough transition from the medical regimen - weighing his diapers, checking his temperature and oxygen. There were all these wires in the way when we wanted to hold him.
At first, he couldn't eat at all because of the breathing aids.
And then those were removed but he had to stay under the jaundice lights, so every feeding was supposed to be done in 30 minutes.

A lot of our time in the NICU was watching him sleep in his medical bassinet, waiting for some to say it was ok to hold or feed him. We weren't even supposed to pick him up when he cried.

So to be sent home to keep him alive on cues and intuition, and no nurse we could call, was a big change.

The Birth

stock photo, not my baby

Dec 5:
Mr Cat messaged me that he was coming back home because he forgot his wallet. About 5 mins later my water broke a little bit. No contractions, but that was an odd enough coincidence that he's staying home.
My instinct was to smell it. Primal data gathering!

Called Tepeyac and texting the doulas while on the weekly staff meeting conference call. They both called back pretty quick and said to hang out at home and let them know if anything changes. Marilyn asked if I was sure I didn't just pee myself and I said oh I know what that feels like, this was different.
(Plus it smelled more like sweat and not like urine. And also, peeing feels like a muscle release, even an involuntary one. This water felt kind of like someone just turned on a water fountain inside, only gravity moved it out.)

I'm definitely starting to feel "off" - a little lightheaded, kinda stoned, nauseous and hungry, my throat hurts? So there's some hormones (and maybe stress) happening, but no contractions.

What an early reminder that it's the baby with the birth plan. I didn't expect to have my water break before contractions but here we are! I hope I'm not introducing tension to my pelvis because I'm a little afraid of losing a lot in a big gush.
Contractions I understand are good, but losing the fluid now could be bad for the baby.

My mom was planning to come over for lunch & a sunwalk. So I called and said things are changing but also I think the best plan for now is still lunch & a sunwalk. It was a nice surprise to see her and have some calm time together.
She asked a couple times if it was really ok with the doctor that I was eating, but eventually let it go.

Meanwhile Mr Cat is bustling around vacuuming, hanging art in the baby's room, fixing me a snack.

Julianna & Sarah Salino sent me sweet followup messages about Clive Club conversations. I feel like a big cape of love will carry me through this!

Seems like the baby will arrive on either St Nicholas Day (Dec 5th evening or Dec 6) or his due date (Dec 7), so that's auspicious timing!

I feel kind of silly that I can't tell if I'm having occasional contractions. Maybe there has been mild Braxton Hicks for a couple weeks? Maybe I just took so much calcium lactate & raspberry leaf tea that I'm not in pain yet :p


Dec 6:
I no longer feel like I'm in labor at all. Grateful that I slept well through the night and have more energy and focus today than yesterday.
But we're back to the waiting game!

It's nice already to have the doulas. Marilyn keeps replying to my updates with encouraging things about rest & patience. And she doesn't seem to think my pace is weird or concerning, so that's good.

I'm glad I trusted my instinct to not tell siblings or friends yesterday. Telling the doulas and my mom that it was a false alarm is the right amount of communication.

Now Mr Cat has a sinus infection, enough that he's taken off work and going to urgent care for antibiotics. So maybe Marissa's deal that the baby wait til Sunday will work out for the best.

10 pm - the contractions start. I knew right away this was the real deal. Kinda like a period cramp but much more on & off. Took a shower and went to bed without saying anything. I prayed that I could sleep until at least 3am or so.
Around that time I woke up, no longer able to sleep through them. They were coming every 3 minutes for awhile, but still not very long or strong. I ate some food, texted the doulas, and then went back to sleep on & off until about 9.
Feel pretty luck with the timing of that!


Dec 7:
So the baby may arrive today on his due date. Or if he arrives tomorrow, then I will have been in labor the entirety of the due date, so that still kind of counts.
I've been in early labor now for 12-13 hours and it's very manageable. Eating, napping, walking, watching Lord of the Rings. I just hope this doesn't go on so long that I get exhausted before real labor happens. Ah well, I can always get the epidural.

It's 10 pm, the baby is not coming today.
Guess I'll repeat what I did last night - warm bath, melatonin, corn sack, and see if I can sleep through most of the night again.


Dec 8:
Stroke of midnight, my 26 hours of early labor (and one hour of sleep) ended and the real contractions began. I'd had some the day before that got closer together but these were more painful - my breathing and swaying did not do anything for the pain anymore.

I timed them for an hour, they were lasting a minute and 3 mins apart. Just lay in the living room staring at the Christmas tree. I called the OB, woke Mr Cat, made it to the hospital in under 30 mins at that hour.

I called the doulas on the way; they seemed surprised that I wasn't laboring at home longer, but I wanted to be settled into the birthing room before I reached the transition part.

Admitted around 2 am; I was so relieved when they confirmed that I was at 5 cm and fully effaced. Part of me was afraid they'd be like, nope still too early, go home like this for a day.

The nurses asked if I wanted an epidural and I said not yet. Lying on my back was the most painful contractions and I wanted to move around as long as I could.
At least two of them said that I was handling 5 cm so well, they thought I could go natural all the way. To hear that from the experienced staff was so helpful and motivating.

Active labor lasted until about 7 or 7:30 am. Cathy was amazing - got me in the bath and the shower, offered counter pressure on my back, did the 3 sisters and I could feel the baby descending as we went. I was happy to be finally making progress.
And then transition happened. I remember learning that this is when people hit a wall and think they can't do it, but it only lasts 30 minutes.
I was aware that mine had gone on more like 60-90 mins. I was barely getting a break between contractions. The pressure of the baby coming down hurt as much. I completely stopped my nice breathing and was screaming in the shower begging for the epidural. Cathy reminded me it would make pushing take longer. I didn't care, I was going to be too tired to push him out.
I kept saying something is wrong, it's taking too long, he's stuck.

They got the OB to check me who confirmed I was at 10 cm but my water hadn't broken. Offered to do that for me and such relief. I got maybe a 5 min break, which felt like forever, and then the urge to push.

The first few minutes were discouraging. I did not have the technique figured out, and the attitude of the staff went from supportive to tough love. I think there is a reason for this, I was no longer supposed to relax but had to enter beast mode, so them making me angry helped.
I pooped and peed on the table multiple times (but never puked!) I kind of shouted out a warning to people, but didn't care at that point. It meant I was pushing right.

In the end pushing took an hour but felt faster. I was glad then I was going natural.
It didn't hurt that much or maybe I was just numb.
But I could feel the progress of him descending and that helped me do it

The OB Dr Anderson, 2 weeks from retirement, saved the day again at the end.
His shoulders got stuck at my pelvic bone, came out the wrong angle.
The ob reached in & turned him before I knew what was happening.

I think I said something like why are your hands in me? But it didn't really hurt and it was over before I realized there was a problem. I remember feeling his little arms in a flurry as he came around and out.

They put baby on my chest for a couple minutes, cut the cord, and then took him to his baby station. He needed to go to NICU, but they brought him back for a second and he looked right into my eyes. I will never forget that moment.

I can't believe I did a long labor with complications natural. I don't know if I'd ever try it again. The doula helped so much, and Mr Cat was amazing. He stayed calm & positive, kept bringing me cold washcloths for my face and water to drink.
He even held one of my legs at the end of pushing, saw everything, and cried as our son was born.

The ob stopped by my room later and kind of discussed the delivery in a way that made me realize she expected me to be more traumatized by him getting stuck. So then I felt badass and lucky that I didn't feel worse.

I have a birth story to feel good about, and I think that will help my mental health in the days to come.

On Being (less) afraid of childbirth

I sent this list of reassurances to a friend and thought it would be a good reminder for myself as well.

I used to be a lot more scared than I am now, so wanted to share some of things I've learned & considered (though not from direct experience)

-tv shows a really overdramatic version of labor bc they need the high stakes. most women start out unsure if they're having real contractions and not with a dramatic water breaking or medical emergency.
one of my sisters friends in med school said the OB rotation was her least favorite bc it was so boring!

-whether or not you decide to hire a doula, i'd strongly recommend attending some of the "birth bootcamps" they offer to the public. these classes were informative and very positive.

-also the whole existence of doulas! these kind & calm women have made multiple births themselves and find the experience so meaningful that they choose to attend other women through the process. if it was just torment, i can't imagine empathetic people would want to witness the process over and over.

-the doulas also say that most labors have an emotional arc, where you start out feeling excited and positive, and then hit a low point where you think you can't do it, and then kind of rally for the pushing phase with this animalistic power. so part of labor is intense physical pain, but that's not for every minute of it.

-the "vocalizations of labor" are be similar to sex or powerlifting. im sure its painful, but it can also be described as intense or effortful. like, tennis players can get pretty loud.

-ive been skeptical of the women who claim that your hormones help you "forget" how bad it was once its over. but my hormones have me so calm right now, and i wouldn't have believed that was possible either. i think there's some research that in addition to the runners high endorphins that are released during labor, there may be "cannibinoids" in the blood stream that have a similar effect to marijuana, so the whole process can seem fuzzy afterward.

-i think one of the worst parts of pain and medical conditions is the stress around it. is it really that bad or is it all in my head? if i call out of work, how much info should i share with my boss so she knows its a real sick day? should i cancel my social plans or hope i rally?
but labor at least, everyone takes the pain seriously and no one expects you to suck it up or multitask your way through it!
i keep coming back to that, the day i deliver that will be the only thing i have to do. no chores, no checking email, no worrying about being polite & tactful.

-this may be the only day of motherhood that you get a finish line and a gold star. you did it! the baby is out!

A Sacred Everyday Time

The past few weeks, I've felt a deep peace and gratitude for all the details of my everyday life.

Every time I enjoy food or sleep; every nice moment with someone I care about; every sunshine walk or podcast drive or meal I cook feels very significant and wonderful.

I'm trying to savor these last days before, as I imagine, so many things will be taken away from me, at least for awhile.
Will I be in too much pain to walk around my house or go outside?
Will I be so tired that I can't drive or cook?
Will I & the baby be so cranky I don't want social visits?
Will Mr. Cat & I get into nasty fights?

Thinking about this change makes me feel afraid and sad sometimes, so I'm trying to savor these last days of my current life, and I find myself appreciating details more than ever.

I think my hormones, especially progesterone, are helping. I feel very calm and slow and sleepy and kind of blissed out. I wish this was due to some permanent maturity on my part, but at least I know that it is possible for me to feel this way ahead of a change.
Having reached such a state of grace may help me find my way to it again, or at least know that it is possible for me to live this way.

I keep saying to myself that I'm going to struggle since it's a big change and I don't do well with change. But at the same time, it's a change that I chose, that I had months (and years) to prepare for, and that has plenty of resources and people to guide me.

Maybe it's more true that I don't do well with sudden forced change, but in this case I feel content and proud that I did everything in my power to prepare for my own health & sanity, and to have everything the baby needs cleaned and unpacked and organized.

Advent is also a great season to be waiting for the baby. The world is getting slow and homey, and the liturgy reminds us how monumental it is for a new life to enter the world and how special a new family is.

I've also been lucky that I've been able to slow down from work, taking telework and a slower pace.

I hope that I can preserve some of this mood of home being so precious and enough, even as my productivity and energy begin to diminish.

There's nothing I can do to prevent or buffer myself against the sleep deprivation and hormone swing that is coming. But I feel like I'm as good a place as I possibly can be going into the labor part. And if that is physically and emotionally positive, that will probably help the postpartum time.

Choosing Confidence

I stumbled on an old anxiety resource that I saved because I liked it - "What would your life be like if you let go of that belief?"
Often, when a recurring thought is stressing me out, I realize that I'm holding on to it for some perversely self-preserving reason.

Having a sense of limits is practical (can I physically & financially handle another kid right now?) But I'm already committed to having this kid, so continuing to suspect or say that I can't handle it isn't smart or helpful anymore.

What would my life feel like if I starting thinking and saying that I am ready to be a mom? If I told myself, I can figure this out, I can ask for help, I'll get through it even if I struggle at first.

Part of me believes that if I think I'm up to the challenge, I'm just being naive. Without a deep fear to drive me, I wouldn't prepare enough. A more confident me wouldn't bother with the reading and exercises and doula tips.
So instead I try to look at how hard I've worked and how much I've learned and use that to boost my confidence.

Besides, what does it mean to "not handle it" as a parent? What does failure look like?
Be moody every day and lose all my friends? Get sent to a mental asylum? CPS takes the kid? The baby dies?

Choosing to have confidence now doesn't make failure more likely, it just makes me less miserable for now.

Mindfulness & Love

I really coasted through the 2nd trimester physically and mentally, haven't posted in 4 months.

One thing I hope to keep in mind with this baby is to love the relationship as it is now, and not have expectations of how it's going to be later. Because the now exists and the future is not certain.

I am prone to focus on the future and work toward goals and improvement. I will probably feel impatient for the baby to be a toddler or the teen to be an adult; I imagine it will be easier or at least I'll get to see some of my work pay off as this young person grows and matures.

But there are no guarantees.

While I imagine the adult relationship I hope to have with this kid, what could actually happen? They could die or become disabled or grow estranged or live off the grid in Mongolia and come home every other Christmas.

I don't want to see the years with my kid as work that eventually pays off, but as valuable itself.

Some practice I've had with this mindset:
-In the first trimester this time, I remember going for a run and feeling hit with this profound understanding. I didn't know what was going to happen, if I'd have another loss. All I knew was that on this day, the baby was with me and I loved them a lot. And it felt like freedom to fully embrace that feeling and set aside the future for a minute.

-I imagined that pregnancy would feel like annoying work that eventually paid off, but it actually feels like the beginning of a relationship. I don't think I'll miss being pregnant, but at the same time I'm enjoying getting to know the little guy from his movements and the checkups.

-Sometimes I worry, what if Mr. Cat dies, or my parents sure are getting older! And the only thing I know to do about that feeling is to love them better today.

-I see what's happened with my brother, who suddenly decided to stop seeing or communicating with the family. My parents did not see this coming and I don't think they did anything wrong to make it happen. I hope that doesn't happen to me, but I also have to accept that it's not entirely within my control. But I still remember past times with him fondly, the present awkwardness & hurt don't overwrite what was real before.

Can self-care & boundaries exist with a newborn?

I'm having a lot of anxiety about how bad the postpartum time is going to be. Weirdly, I'm not terrified of labor, which I was with the first pregnancy. Maybe that will come later, but I figure - there is a clear finish line, experience people to help me, drugs & interventions if I need them.

What terrifies me is everything after - going home to an endless time of no sleep, big responsibility, and changes that I don't know how to navigate.

I'm focused on the ways that I am uniquely set up to fail - I really like to sleep, I get stressed out by change, I have sensitive nipples, I'm too hard on myself (meta hard on myself apparently).

I have strengths too - I set boundaries & say no, ask for help & delegate tasks, and am diligent about my self-care. I no longer believe this is selfish or weak, since I am communicating clearly with others (aka considerate, not passive-aggressive or resentful or flaky), and I get good returns on the investment I made taking care of myself.

And now I worry that I won't be able to lean into this strength of self-care. I'll know that if I could just have a bit of sleep and a bit of "me time" I'd feel much better, but you can't set boundaries with a newborn. So I'll be in a bad spiral where my weaknesses are fueled by the mighty fire of a big change and big responsibility and my physical frailty and I'm not able to lean into my strengths of routine & self-care.

Maybe I need to give myself more credit.
I will know that it's important to drink water, eat good food and get sun time. I am ready to ask / beg /demand help and delegate. I'll know what I need to recover, and make it a priority, at least sometimes.
I'll still have to-do lists & organization skills. I can institute some routines if they help me feel better. The baby won't eat or sleep on a schedule. But I can still have a cup of tea around sunrise. Go outside, for walk or errands, around noon each day. Watch tv & play music downstairs during daytime feedings & play, and sit upstairs in the dark with a quiet podcast during nighttime feedings & cuddles. Lorenzo can give the baby a bath each evening while I take my own shower / sitz bath. A little bit of structure to the day may make me feel like a living person, and can help the baby get onto a routine when they're ready.

My weaknesses are real, but maybe I won't be starting in a worse place than any other mom.

Maybe something good will happen

Sometimes, the more I learn about pregnancy & baby care, the more I feel afraid (and certain) that I'll encounter some worst case scenarios.

The baby is the worst at learning to breastfeed and won't sleep; it cries a lot for no reason; I'm slow to recover physically & my mental health collapses. I'm kind of expecting this as a baseline state, from which we may then have more serious health or financial concerns.

I'm also bracing myself (due to reading and my own neurotic mind) that I'll let down everyone in my life, and they'll let me know how they feel.

Lorenzo will help more than most dads, so then I'm "lucky" and if I ask more of him or don't want to return to sex right away, I'm ungrateful and letting him down.
If I'm too tired or overwhelmed or tied to the baby's schedule that it makes it hard to see friends, they'll resent me or judge me or just give up and forget about me.
The older parents in my family, and strangers in stores, will jump at the chance to tell me I'm doing everything wrong.
Work will resist giving me the leave I need to take, even if some of it is unpaid or part-time.

I'm putting a burden on myself by expecting that this tough transition will be made tougher by the attitudes of everyone around me.

Here's what's actually happened this week:
I looked into my leave policy, and can expect 6 weeks paid & 15 weeks half-paid, which is almost 5 months.
I started researching day cares; don't know about prices yet, but they are mostly open til 6:30, which means I can work close to my normal hours.
My mom has adjusted her attitude toward my "choice" to be a working mom, acknowledging that my life is different than hers and that I'm making a rational choice.
An old friend gave us bags of maternity clothes, a box of diapers, and a bassinet. I'm so relieved that at least these few things we won't have to buy for ourselves.
Several people have asked me when we'll find out the gender, and then quickly corrected themselves, "I mean, if you're going to find out?" It's a tiny thing, but I appreciate the lack of assumptions there.
I feel like my knowledge is starting to come together, since I'm seeing the same tips from multiple places. Two different friends recommended the Amazon diaper brand ; my trustworthy books & blogs give similar advice on sleep training and what to expect in your body after labor.


So while I anticipate letting everyone down, Mr. Cat anticipates "more support than we know what to do with." And so far, the reality is rosier than what I pictured for myself.
He is fond of saying to me, as I spiral about worst-case scenarios, "what if something good happens?"

Are You Ready?

The 12 week appointment was today, and we could hear the heartbeat again. At this point, the chances of loss are about 1 in 800. It was a relief to make it to this point - we can tell people with joy instead of hesitation. It's basically the second trimester now. Maybe the next time I go back for the 16 week appt it will feel like a formality and not a terror-filled ordeal.

In addition to getting good news, Mr. Cat & I also had a great conversation with Doctor B. While trying to find the heartbeat with the Doppler, he said that the look on face means I "already have the heart of a mother. Even though I'm still young & cute." Also said I was skinny and healthy as can be, so that's good he's not gonna give me grief for gaining a couple pounds in the first trimester.

He also said that I had clearly done my research about prenatal testing options, and the safety of airport scanners, and that I was thinking about it all well. Says I should have been a nurse.

In addition to praising me, his attitude toward all the "rules" of pregnancy is refreshingly laissez-faire. He says that I should feel perfectly safe going through airport scanners, and that the bans on coffee and wine are ridiculous. (I'm glad Mr. Cat got to hear this from a doctor.)

And he said that Mr. Cat had a delightful smile and we were a great couple.

In the waiting room while I was still very worried that we'd get bad news somehow, I took some comfort in my thorough Google doc filled with questions for the doctor about several topics - travel, medications, prenatal testing. It was easy to read and I had it all in one place. There will be things that I struggle with as a new parent - the change, the unpredictability, the lack of sleep. But I am very good at acquiring information and remembering what I need to do, and this will serve me well.

A few nights ago I had a dream that was both very realistic and very comforting. My brain often serves up dreams that are very realistic but stressful - I'm out of town and am trying to find a way to get to work on time, I meet a celebrity I love and they think I'm really uncool, my teeth are falling out.
But in this dream, it was out first day with the new baby and everything was going well. My labor had been short and I didn't tear. I found a position (based on an article I'd read in real life) that made breastfeeding more comfortable. The baby was pretty chill and only cried when it was hungry and once when it spit up all over itself.
I don't think this is necessarily an omen that these will all come true for me. But it was nice to wake up and be, oh, on some level of my subconscious, I feel prepared and optimistic about this.

Usually my idea of being ready for something is to understand in advance all the steps of what's going to happen and rehearse for them. But since that's not really possible here, it's nice to have these experiences close together to make me feel like maybe I'm as ready as a person can be.

Data Driven Parenting

I LOVED this article, and am gonna buy both of her books.

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/04/19/opinion/sunday/baby-breastfeeding-sleep-training.html

 

The takeaway seems to be - look at data like an economist.
If there is not an obvious harm or benefit to your child, then look to your own health and your own personal preferences.

Facts and data are so important, because if you make decisions without them what are you looking at? Blind guesses, old stereotypes, guilt?


There seem to be a lot of assumptions that ANYTHING that will make a parents life easier (or, you know, keeps their own physical & mental health stable) must therefore be a selfish choice that is bad for the baby.
Best to always be a martyr, just in case.

When in reality, if formula and sleep training means the parents are not depressed, more patient, better able to cherish their time with their kid....that's gotta be better for the kid and the family in the long run.
PLUS maybe the kid is getting more food and more sleep that way too. 

Another issue is Labels.
Instead of asking, do i want to be a stay at home mom or a working mom? 
Ask, what is the optimal number of hours for me & my partner to work outside the home?

Rather than picking your pile of stigma, you can look at the time/money balance to see what suits your family.

Dread

After two losses, I can say that the dread was the worst part.

The first time happened so fast, that it was mostly whiplash.
Dread set in next - what happens to me now? Will I sink into a depression? And if not, does that mean I'm destined to be a horrible mother? Will I ever have kids? I feel so relieved right now - how will I know when it's time to try again?

The second time, the grief and physical pain were again real and difficult. But the dread was the worst part. The days I was waiting for the D&C ; when I had to call my mom to break the news ; every time I spotted at the start and waited for the ax to fall ; imagining living through the weeks of uncertainty again and again.

A work situation also taught me this about dread. The projector wouldn't connect to my laptop when I had to give a presentation, which I found very stressful. But in retrospect, there was nothing terrible in that moment. It was all in the dread - what am I going to tell these people when they show up? What will I tell my boss?
I also had to leave the room with a coughing fit, which was something I worried about for YEARS. I worried about that happening at my wedding, and at every work trip.
I didn't love the experience of being sick in front of people. But it happened and I went back into the room...and that was that. Not ideal, but that situation no longer fills me with dread.

I've also worried at times for years - what if I puke on the metro? And today I thought...so what? It would be embarrassing and uncomfortable but...life would go on.

So if dread is the worst thing I can experience, why do I have it so often?
My whole life people have been telling me to "just stop worrying," which I always found annoying and unhelpful.

So I had to discover for myself two key truths...

- It is POSSIBLE to stop your thoughts from preparing for the worst, after it stops being practical.
- It is GOOD to stop your thoughts from preparing for the worst, after it stops being practical.

I really believed in my deepest place that it was smart to be prepared, and I had to use my smarts to compensate for my flaws - panicking, social awkwardness, inflexibility, being unlikeable. That's how I'd gotten through school, job interviews, even some social settings - by researching and planning and having a strategy.

What it really comes down to - I am just starting to trust myself to respond to a new or unexpected situation as it unfolds. I think some people are born with the confidence to drift through life, just winging it, but better late than never!

I'm sure it will take some practice, but believing that it is POSSIBLE and GOOD to opt out of dread must be an important first step.
If I can spend less of my life in the "brace for impact" mental position...what a life that would be.

This ties into a scary but radically freeing idea - if I lose this pregnancy too, there is nothing I can do to make that go better or worse. I know that I can get through it because I have before, and because there is no choice. 

Because no preparation is possible, that means no preparation is necessary. I can deeply believe that this is a dread that I can and should choose to not put myself through. If something goes wrong, it will be clear to me, from my body or from the doctor. And then I will go home and experience something painful. 

Not easy, but simple.

And the symptoms I experience day to day - nausea, exhaustion, worries when I spot - the worst part is when I tell myself "guess I'll feel this bad for the next 3-18 months!"

Another more mundane example of how I frequently subject myself to dread. I took a pretty long lunch break today between getting a massage & picking up a special dinner
And I started to feel guilty while driving (as I do most times that i run errands or go to the doctor or take a sun break when im teleworking).
And I realized how profoundly unhelpful that feeling was.
If I really think it was a mistake or wrong to leave work for so long, then I can decide to never do it again.
But for today, the decision is made. Second guessing isn't a "compromise" or a way to do both.
It doesnt make me magically spend those minutes at work, it just robs the relaxation and the celebration of their joy. It would be better if I take my breaks either guilt-free, or not at all, then to take them but always beat myself up about it.

Similar, if someone starts a conversation that interrupts my work - better to be either fully present OR ask them to come back another time. But what I have often done - which is half-listen while I'm eager to get back to my previous task - means I'm not really doing either thing.

History doesn't repeat but it rhymes

Based on my own older blog posts, this week I am having a lot of "new" insights that I have had before.
That's ok. Whenever I put a connection into words, it sounds very simple and obvious. I guess there's something to be said for really feeling the truth of something, instead of just hearing a truism.

Found out this week I was pregnant, when the week before I had decided it was time to go to counseling to see if I'd ever be ready to try again.
At first there was a lot of panic and self-blame - what if my body and mental health aren't ready for this? Why didn't I wait longer? Why don't I feel brave and hopeful about this? But now I wonder if waiting longer would have even helped, maybe it would have been harder.

After leaving an unpleasant work trip to a dreary Cleveland, my mood and energy have been surprisingly stable. I've noticed uncharacteristically Zen thoughts & words. And in the spirit of this Zen, I want to write them down for my future self, because I can't assume that this newfound attitude will last forever.

Even in this first trimester phase, there are a lot of uncertainties. Will I suddenly start bleeding at home, like the first time? Will I get bad news from the doctor, like the second time? Will I make it to delivery and postpartum, and find that this is hardest of all?

It is so obvious and yet so inaccessible at times - all these outcomes won't come true. And in this moment, NONE of them are happening. This helps me feel grateful for the moment I'm in - there's no medical emergency right now. And that is all I know.

I also worry about the mundane trials of first trimester, like getting nauseous or extra tired or other complications, and not being able to explain why I'm "off." But again, in this moment, I can be grateful that I feel well enough to go about my life.

I went back to the therapist I saw for GAD 3 years ago. Some nice reminders from her:

• Be gentle with yourself. Eat and rest when you need to. Say no to social obligations. It's normal to be scared, so don't beat yourself up about this. Tell white lies to protect your privacy.
• I am very focused on the negatives. Remember there may be joyful parts too. Even in the first trimester, it's been fun to have a secret with Lorenzo. And eating produce and cheese is a transcendent experience. (Maybe emotional vulnerability is like physical hunger; it's awkward and inconvenient to be that frail, but it also means you can relish the little things.)
• I don't have to know everything and do everything by myself OR all at once. 

One common idea from general anxiety CBT is to beware of "should" statements.

The first hurdle is how you talk about yourself - I should be more brave, I should be more hopeful. (Which doesnt make it true, just is hard on yourself.)

I think the next level is Should-ing reality - I shouldn't have to go through this again, and I can't handle it. But if I accept that those statements are false, the uncertainty of life becomes easy to bear.

If it happens again - it will be sad. it will feel unfair. it will be hard work to recover.
But if i say that it Shouldn't happen, that just adds a burden to myself, to try to will reality to be something that i can't control, and then to try to explain to myself how it could happen again.

And if I say I can't handle it....I already know that's false.
I don't want to have to handle it.
But if it happens... it happens. There is literally nothing that i can do to stop it, but its also freeing to recognize there is nothing I can do to make it go better or worse.
I can get through it because...I have to. My body will be present, it's as simple as that. There is nothing I have to do to prepare, and there is nothing I have to do in that moment if it happens.
Kind of scary, but also kind of uncomplicated.
If improvement is not possible, then improvement is not necessary!