— I got my first postpartum period. It was a little surprising because I am still nursing (albeit not exclusively). What was perhaps more surprising were those same old familiar “infertility” feelings that also came along. Once you’ve experienced infertility, it never leaves you.
— We had to call Poison Control on my son. Over vacation, Brae decided to get into his grandpa’s thyroid medication. We found an empty bottle. When we asked him where they went, he said he put them “down a hole.” He then took our hands and led us to a small hole in the windowsill. We were able to recover a few of them, but weren’t convinced he didn’t take any. So, after calling our pediatrician, I made my first call to Poison Control. “Not toxic,” they said. “But, watch him over the next few days. He may be hyperactive and sweaty.” (Is that any different than normal? I thought). Sure enough, about two days later, Brae was waking up in the middle of the night in sweats. He wouldn’t settle down. He definitely, somehow, ingested some of that medication. Thankfully, he’s better now.
— Also on vacation, Brae broke out in a rash from head to toe. Brae was not sleeping at night (see bullet above), so my lovely sis-in-law and ma-in-law took Brae to the pool one afternoon so I could try to sleep. As any good caretaker would, they put some sunscreen on him. However, Brae has EXTREMELY sensitive skin, and I’ve only found one sunscreen that he doesn’t react to. Sure enough, Brae reacted to this new sunscreen by breaking out in a head-to-toe rash. His little cheeks swelled up and it looked like he had two bright red apples on each cheek. Again, thankfully, he’s better now.
— I took Brae to the park the other day. It was very hot, and he was the only kid on the playground. He played for about 15 minutes before two older boys (around age 10) arrived. The boys by-passed Brae to play on “older kid” equipment. No eye contact from either Brae or the boys. Not a word spoken amongst them. For another 10 minutes, Brae played on the opposite end of the playground, by himself, and the older boys played on the other end, near the park exit, by themselves. About 5 minutes later, Brae and I decided it was too hot and it was time to go home. Brae strolled up to his bike (with training wheels), hopped on, and started riding toward the park exit. The older boys were still playing by themselves, completely oblivious to Brae. Right before Brae turned the corner to leave the park on his bike, he looked up at the boys, smiled and yelled, “Bye, friends!”, and pedaled away.
— Sienna loves her big brother. She smiles whenever she sees him coming. And then she braces for impact.
— We’ve gone to two physical therapy appointments, and I’ve cried at each one. It’s so hard to see her wince and cry during the sessions. That said, I believe there has been improvement. She’s lifting her head up and turning it when she’s on her tummy, and her range of motion has increased. But she’s still got a ways to go. The PT recommended trying the Bumbo to help increase her neck muscles. However, she advised against EVER using the exersaucer, jumparoo, or walker with Sienna because it could delay physical development (sucks because I have 3 brand new ones). Instead, if we need a “babysitter” (her word), we should use a high chair, blanket on the floor, or playpen.
…. I’ve been feeling lately that my daughter is misunderstood. Yes, the first 6-8 weeks were hard. She was definitely fussy (PT thinks it was reflux, but no meds will be prescribed because she “obviously” does not have a weight problem — (was that a jab at me?)). But things have gotten better. She’s on a schedule that works for her, and as long as we stick to it, she’s a very happy, pleasant child. No, she doesn’t have the same sunny, happy-with-whatever personality that Brae has, but she’s her own person.
But I feel that people think she’s just this cranky baby. Case in point, at the PT session today, they handed me the following literature to take home: “Your hyper-sensitive baby and her developing sensory system.” The PT gave this to me as I was crying and she rubbed my back, telling me it’s been a hard road from infertility to a “cranky” baby. This was also handed to me after a veiled lecture about how I’m not breastfeeding often enough.
Feeling a little defeated at the moment. And cranky.
I love my baby girl.