Thursday, April 17, 2008
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Solids
Ah solids... Looks like Pig might be leaving the land of liquids soon...well the land of nothing but liquids that is.
Pig has stopped nursing. I tried a couple times and she just turns her head with a moue of disgust. I have to say, I'm kinda sad. My baby's growing up. She's decided that the boob is beneath her, a woman of action, she wants her milk when she wants it and in overwhelming quantities, none of this one suck at a time nonsense. So, she's been going after her bottles with particular gusto these days. She's always been an exuberant eater but these days the minute she spies her bottle, her eyes widen, her mouth gapes open, she stretches our her arms and does the baby equivalent of "gimme, gimme, gimme"-- "huh, huh, huh!"
So it's only a matter of time before she starts grabbing at the adult food. She's already peering with interest at K's plate of Belgian waffles and the other day she kept staring at my coffee mug, she had such a strange gleam in her eye that eventually I had to hide to finish my coffee. Next month, I'm thinking of starting her on an organic brown rice cereal before moving onto fruit and veggies and eventually to Korean food, yeah! I can just see it now, Pig's pudgy hands picking up her little chopsticks for the first time, clicking them expectantly and bouncing in her high chair with glee as her omma sets a steaming bowl of jjigae and rice on the table...sigh, can't wait.
Pig has stopped nursing. I tried a couple times and she just turns her head with a moue of disgust. I have to say, I'm kinda sad. My baby's growing up. She's decided that the boob is beneath her, a woman of action, she wants her milk when she wants it and in overwhelming quantities, none of this one suck at a time nonsense. So, she's been going after her bottles with particular gusto these days. She's always been an exuberant eater but these days the minute she spies her bottle, her eyes widen, her mouth gapes open, she stretches our her arms and does the baby equivalent of "gimme, gimme, gimme"-- "huh, huh, huh!"
So it's only a matter of time before she starts grabbing at the adult food. She's already peering with interest at K's plate of Belgian waffles and the other day she kept staring at my coffee mug, she had such a strange gleam in her eye that eventually I had to hide to finish my coffee. Next month, I'm thinking of starting her on an organic brown rice cereal before moving onto fruit and veggies and eventually to Korean food, yeah! I can just see it now, Pig's pudgy hands picking up her little chopsticks for the first time, clicking them expectantly and bouncing in her high chair with glee as her omma sets a steaming bowl of jjigae and rice on the table...sigh, can't wait.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Mea Culpa?
An episode of Law & Order where young parents allowed their baby to starve to death had me bawling...I'm talking full out snot dribbling, chest heaving sobbing. There was one scene at the medical examiners where a baby's covered body was lying on the examination table, a small foot and hand protruding from beneath the covering and I just lost it. One of the cutest sights in the world is seeing your baby's little bare feet waving in the air. I remember waking up at 2 am, when K was on duty. I looked over, K was changing Pig's diaper. K was cooing, Pig was cooing back and I could see a pair of little dimpled feet kicking pertly in the air. So while watching this episode, I thought of this and found myself sobbing.
The parents in this episode were having trouble breastfeeding the child and as a result the baby slowly starved to death. They were told that breastmilk was the best for their child so they decided against feeding the child formula although they had several unopened cans in the house. This brought back bad memories of our week in the hospital after Pig was born...those days continue to haunt me and fill me with guilt.
Pig latched on readily. I started nursing her a few hours after she was born. I wanted to nurse her right away but I was shaking so badly from the effects of the drugs that I couldn't hold her. But after awhile I had her nursing. I breathed a sigh of relief. My baby was latching on, it would be smooth sailing from here on. Later that night, when the nurse trundled Pig's bassinet into our room and I looked forward to what I believed would be a nice nursing session. Pig latched on again happily and ate drowsily. She ate...and ate....and ate. I looked at the clock, wow, 40 minutes had elapsed and she was still latched on. Granted she would doze off for a few seconds here and there but if I gently stroked her head, the sucking would again commence. K called the nursery nurse and we were told that she was likely using me as a pacifier. So I stopped the feeding and we popped her back into her bassinet. A few hours later, she was crying. Ok, back onto the breast and another 40 minutes. And again and again. I started to wonder when Pig was going to get any sleep. Pig's crying sessions grew longer and longer and she started getting upset at the breast. She began crying and crying and crying. Exhausted we asked the nurse for a pacifier. Pig took to this in the beginning but then after awhile got frustrated and began crying again. The crying soon turned into frantic screaming and I started crying with her. K tried desperately to soothe her, using the Happiest Baby on the Block techniques. He swung her around like a trapeze artist, just enough to settle her down enough to try at the breast again. After a few sucks, she'd resume the crying. We started noticing that her mouth was getting very dry. The nurse told us that Pig was developing a slight fever and showing signs of dehydration. She asked if they could give Pig a bottle of formula. I hesitated. After all, we were told that breast was best and that a bottle could create nipple confusion. But then she told us that our pediatrician agreed that Pig could have a bottle. That's all I needed to hear. After 2 ounces, Pig passed out and slept.
Now, I can't believe I hesitated. My baby was screaming that she was hungry and here I was trying to come up with a way to keep her from getting what she wanted. Sure the colostrum should have been enough to keep her happy but it wasn't and instead of listening to my child's cues, I was thinking about what a bunch of strangers had to say about the matter. I was formula fed and turned out just fine, in fact I rarely got sick as a kid.
Obviously, from the previous posts about mastitis, I have continued feeding and expressing for Pig. I'm grateful that I'm able to do that for her and I do hope that she'll never have to have another bottle of formula. However, I know that if we have another child, I won't hesitate to ask for a supplement. I understand the whole push towards natural childbirthing and rearing. It makes sense, women have been doing it for thousands of years. My parents were surprised at how many books/articles are written about breastfeeding. My dad grew up in the Korean countryside and told me that women would just do it, carry the child around all day, let him or her feed at will. It should be that natural but often it's not, such that we need lactation consultants and doctors to deconstruct the process with charts and video how-tos. Such that every woman I've spoken to about the matter has told me that breastfeeding is more difficult than people would have you know. There's something unnatural about working so hard to make something seem natural. I understand the argument that if women believed the breast is their only choice they'd make it work like women in third world countries. But we don't live in a third world country and after several days of trying, my baby was still crying and I could not do what I'm supposed to do as a parent...feed her.
The parents in this episode were having trouble breastfeeding the child and as a result the baby slowly starved to death. They were told that breastmilk was the best for their child so they decided against feeding the child formula although they had several unopened cans in the house. This brought back bad memories of our week in the hospital after Pig was born...those days continue to haunt me and fill me with guilt.
Pig latched on readily. I started nursing her a few hours after she was born. I wanted to nurse her right away but I was shaking so badly from the effects of the drugs that I couldn't hold her. But after awhile I had her nursing. I breathed a sigh of relief. My baby was latching on, it would be smooth sailing from here on. Later that night, when the nurse trundled Pig's bassinet into our room and I looked forward to what I believed would be a nice nursing session. Pig latched on again happily and ate drowsily. She ate...and ate....and ate. I looked at the clock, wow, 40 minutes had elapsed and she was still latched on. Granted she would doze off for a few seconds here and there but if I gently stroked her head, the sucking would again commence. K called the nursery nurse and we were told that she was likely using me as a pacifier. So I stopped the feeding and we popped her back into her bassinet. A few hours later, she was crying. Ok, back onto the breast and another 40 minutes. And again and again. I started to wonder when Pig was going to get any sleep. Pig's crying sessions grew longer and longer and she started getting upset at the breast. She began crying and crying and crying. Exhausted we asked the nurse for a pacifier. Pig took to this in the beginning but then after awhile got frustrated and began crying again. The crying soon turned into frantic screaming and I started crying with her. K tried desperately to soothe her, using the Happiest Baby on the Block techniques. He swung her around like a trapeze artist, just enough to settle her down enough to try at the breast again. After a few sucks, she'd resume the crying. We started noticing that her mouth was getting very dry. The nurse told us that Pig was developing a slight fever and showing signs of dehydration. She asked if they could give Pig a bottle of formula. I hesitated. After all, we were told that breast was best and that a bottle could create nipple confusion. But then she told us that our pediatrician agreed that Pig could have a bottle. That's all I needed to hear. After 2 ounces, Pig passed out and slept.
Now, I can't believe I hesitated. My baby was screaming that she was hungry and here I was trying to come up with a way to keep her from getting what she wanted. Sure the colostrum should have been enough to keep her happy but it wasn't and instead of listening to my child's cues, I was thinking about what a bunch of strangers had to say about the matter. I was formula fed and turned out just fine, in fact I rarely got sick as a kid.
Obviously, from the previous posts about mastitis, I have continued feeding and expressing for Pig. I'm grateful that I'm able to do that for her and I do hope that she'll never have to have another bottle of formula. However, I know that if we have another child, I won't hesitate to ask for a supplement. I understand the whole push towards natural childbirthing and rearing. It makes sense, women have been doing it for thousands of years. My parents were surprised at how many books/articles are written about breastfeeding. My dad grew up in the Korean countryside and told me that women would just do it, carry the child around all day, let him or her feed at will. It should be that natural but often it's not, such that we need lactation consultants and doctors to deconstruct the process with charts and video how-tos. Such that every woman I've spoken to about the matter has told me that breastfeeding is more difficult than people would have you know. There's something unnatural about working so hard to make something seem natural. I understand the argument that if women believed the breast is their only choice they'd make it work like women in third world countries. But we don't live in a third world country and after several days of trying, my baby was still crying and I could not do what I'm supposed to do as a parent...feed her.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Jabbawockeez Fighting!
Ok this is not really a Pig post, but lately I'm obsessed with America's Best Dance Crew. Usually I'm not into these types of shows, never watched a single episode of American Idol. But damn, I even voted for this one...yes actually picked up the phone and furiously dialed the number that appeared on the screen. Seriously people, now why would a 30 year old mom be so into this show? The Jabbawockeez are just amazing to watch, disgustingly talented. You've got to check out their stuff.
And I had to post this video of some young fans, can't get over the cuteness...and they're talented.
And I had to post this video of some young fans, can't get over the cuteness...and they're talented.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Yakkity Yak
Watching your child develop is an undescribeably precious thing...and fun. Even more so because the growth isn't gradual as I had assumed they were, they come suddenly when you least expect it...just wondrous for impatient me.
Pig has been cooing like a morning dove for awhile now and from time to time has made some strange pterodactyl noises. Then boom! Babbling. Usually it's alot of "ack ack ack" with some "goo goo goo" interspersed. But occasionally she'll say something in a very conversational way. For instance today she pulled her binkie out of her mouth then said "eh bah goo" and stuffed the binkie back in. And it was just "eh bah goo" not "eh bah goo?" Yes I know it's gibberish but I'm sure in her mind she felt like she just commented on something. Granted our response was "eh?" but I began marveling at how many hundreds of new things she must be picking up on a daily basis that we aren't even aware of. Every day the vision sharpens, coordination improves, in addition she learns that the orange giraffe toy on her bouncy chair is best yanked off the toy bar by pulling on it with both hands. This knowledge is stored away for the next time.
It's most reassuring. I was starting to wonder if we have enough toys for Pig. See, when it comes to toys, I belong to the less is more school of thought. Emo and I didn't have many toys growing up, a few stuffed animals and two cabbage patch dolls and that was it. But I didn't feel deprived at all. My mother just understood that kids will learn to entertain themselves with whatever's available to them and she wanted us to pick up a book instead of an instant gratification toy. And for that I am grateful. For a kid who grew up in a Korean speaking household, the English I speak today was essentially self taught, reading at home helped me build up the vocabulary I needed to keep up in school. I think it helped foster a feeling of independence and confidence when it came to learning. Other than for math and science, I couldn't ask my parents for help with my homework. Didn't think anything of it at the time. I assumed that all kids had the same experience. It was until recently I started thinking that it'd be odd that there would be no communication gaps with my child.
Actually, I should clarify. My parents never had any difficulty understanding my sister and I. They just seemed to know what we were trying to convey even while we sometimes struggled to translate English into Korean. First of all, their English is alot better than they'll lead you to believe. Second of all, people just adapt wonderfully. Don't know a word? Make one up. We had our own family language. It probably also helps that you're unlikely to have a really original thought. At some point, your parental units prob'ly thought it too.
So back to toys. I've been seeing all these kids with tons and tons of toys...marketed as necessary for early learning and development. So I started wondering if I was depriving Pig. That perhaps this was some form of middle class guilt of mine. But then, "eh bah goo." It was like Pig's way of saying, "yeah don't sweat it. It's all good." Anyway, I think the best toy we can give Pig is a sibling...in the meantime the orange giraffe will have to do.
Pig has been cooing like a morning dove for awhile now and from time to time has made some strange pterodactyl noises. Then boom! Babbling. Usually it's alot of "ack ack ack" with some "goo goo goo" interspersed. But occasionally she'll say something in a very conversational way. For instance today she pulled her binkie out of her mouth then said "eh bah goo" and stuffed the binkie back in. And it was just "eh bah goo" not "eh bah goo?" Yes I know it's gibberish but I'm sure in her mind she felt like she just commented on something. Granted our response was "eh?" but I began marveling at how many hundreds of new things she must be picking up on a daily basis that we aren't even aware of. Every day the vision sharpens, coordination improves, in addition she learns that the orange giraffe toy on her bouncy chair is best yanked off the toy bar by pulling on it with both hands. This knowledge is stored away for the next time.
It's most reassuring. I was starting to wonder if we have enough toys for Pig. See, when it comes to toys, I belong to the less is more school of thought. Emo and I didn't have many toys growing up, a few stuffed animals and two cabbage patch dolls and that was it. But I didn't feel deprived at all. My mother just understood that kids will learn to entertain themselves with whatever's available to them and she wanted us to pick up a book instead of an instant gratification toy. And for that I am grateful. For a kid who grew up in a Korean speaking household, the English I speak today was essentially self taught, reading at home helped me build up the vocabulary I needed to keep up in school. I think it helped foster a feeling of independence and confidence when it came to learning. Other than for math and science, I couldn't ask my parents for help with my homework. Didn't think anything of it at the time. I assumed that all kids had the same experience. It was until recently I started thinking that it'd be odd that there would be no communication gaps with my child.
Actually, I should clarify. My parents never had any difficulty understanding my sister and I. They just seemed to know what we were trying to convey even while we sometimes struggled to translate English into Korean. First of all, their English is alot better than they'll lead you to believe. Second of all, people just adapt wonderfully. Don't know a word? Make one up. We had our own family language. It probably also helps that you're unlikely to have a really original thought. At some point, your parental units prob'ly thought it too.
So back to toys. I've been seeing all these kids with tons and tons of toys...marketed as necessary for early learning and development. So I started wondering if I was depriving Pig. That perhaps this was some form of middle class guilt of mine. But then, "eh bah goo." It was like Pig's way of saying, "yeah don't sweat it. It's all good." Anyway, I think the best toy we can give Pig is a sibling...in the meantime the orange giraffe will have to do.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Milk Blues
Another clog. And possibly another bout of mastitis. My plan was to continue expressing milk until Pig's 6 months old and then turn to my frozen stash. But now I'm thinking, well, the freezer is full, perhaps the time has come to crack open the lansinoh bags. According to our calculations (a chock full 5 ft by 5 ft chest freezer) we have roughly 40 gallons of frozen liquid gold. That should be enough to feed Pig for another 6-7 months assuming that she'll eat 30 ounces a day. Once she starts solids I'm sure that'll drop.
At first I felt badly thinking ugh, I'm about to wean my 4 month old child. The word "wean" just sounds negative. But it's not really weaning if she continues to get breastmilk right? Considering that most of her meals are by bottle at her daycare. And lately Pig's been sleeping through the night so I haven't had to do a 4 am sleepy nursing in a long while. Ideally I would've stayed home with my child for at least 6 months where she would've been nursed 24/7 and then we would've done a gradual wean. Pumping kinda complicates things. As far as my body knows, my baby has some killer milk needs and my girls are rising to the challenge...big time. I produce 40-50 ounces a day and for that I'm grateful. But oversupply also mean recurring clogs which in turn often means mastitis. And that sucks.
So the plan is to start the pump weaning process in April when my dad (harabuhjee) arrives to look after Pig. I've arranged to telework that week so if I end up with some really bad clogs I can take care of it right away. That way I can walk around with cabbage leaves in my bra as well...no way I was going to do that work.
In the meantime, got this clog to deal with. I've had it for 3 days...I really should give it a name...how about Pat? Pat is pissing me off something fierce. I've done everything possible to get rid of her, pumping like crazy, applying heat compresses, resting (well sorta, kinda hard during the work week) and massage. Nada. This broad refuses to budge. Problem is, the only person who can reason with Pat is the Plumber and the Plumber refuses to cooperate.
"The Plumber"
Not sure why, K and I have several theories. 1) When she gets home she's super tired and does not want to work for her food. And the Plumber is smart, she knows that we've got bottles in the fridge so it's only a matter of time before we give up trying to get her to take it straight from the tap and whip out a bottle. 2) Also read that clogs can make the milk salty so maybe she's grossed out by the taste. But I doubt that. Her nickname is Pig after all, I've had clogs before and she drank the expressed milk with nary a complaint. 3) Finally, could just be pure cussedness. She comes from a long line of stubborn folks on both sides so maybe she's just following tradition. Whatever it is, the Plumber and I have a date this weekend. She and I will spend the whole weekend in bed until we whip Pat's ass.
Monday, March 10, 2008
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