Topic Thursday: namesake

The week I found out I was pregnant, I was flipping through the pages of a baby name book every day. There were so many names...and I didn't even know the sex yet! I was getting ahead of myself and forgetting it's not my name to decide it's "ours". Dave and I talked about naming a boy after him, continue the tradition. But we wanted To break that mold, think outside the box. I 'Felt' like the baby was a girl, I was dead wrong, bur I focused on girl names. We decided after some time for a girl "Pennelope Rose", or Penny for short. And for a boy, "Jude", muddle name undecided. I liked the name Jude but wasn't in love with it. It was Dave's comformation name so at least it had meaning. Bur it didn't click still. Then the day before my birthday we found out he was a boy. Boy names starting enveloping every moment of my day. We went through many, Caleb, Clove, Jake, Milo, David, etc. One day while searching names I came across "Oliver". I fell in love with it. "Ollie" for short had my heart. But was it 'his' name? How would I know? Later that week I left for a week long vacation in Maine. After an exhausting car ride we finally arrived at our hotel. As my parents checked in, I sorted through brochures. Then like a lightning bolt, there it was..."Ollie's Trolley". Some brochure for a trolley service to Bar Harbor. It was a sign...an omen. That was the name, that was my sons name. His name was Oliver. Oliver Michael, after his grandfathers comformation name and nickname. His 2nd middle name is my maiden name which I hold dear, Eckhardt. I am the last 'Eckhardt' of my bloodline. Oliver may not have my name but he'll be able to carry it on. Now I know the truth worth of a name.

Topic Thursday: Raspberries

No no no...not the fruit. Although they're delicious. "Blowing Raspberries" is an artform. It takes months/years to perfect. I myself, am a raspberry master, no...Jedi. I have a certain technique and a delicate process. I've been blowing raspberries at Ollie since the first week he was born. It was the thing that first made him smile and also the what him first laugh. It calms him down when he's upset, and turns that diaper change or bath into a fun time. And today for the first time ever, and after weeks of trying, he blew his first raspberry! He's been blowing little bubbles for about 3 weeks or so but not actually sticking his tongue out and blowing, so today was an exciting day. I couldn't get a really picture but you get you the idea.
Have a great Friday and weekend!

Topic Thursday: Babylegs

When I first saw a pair of Babylegs online, I thought to myself "why would anyone need those?". Then I got pregnant and signed up for like 10 different baby "steal" sites. One of the sites was having a deal on Babylegs, $8 shipped. So after extensive reading and trying to understand *still* "what are these REALLY for?!", I bought a pair. I bought a pair of regular sized ones with puzzle print on them. When they showed up about a week later, Dave was interested in what I bought. I pulled them out of the package, he looked at me puzzled..." why'd you buy yourself leg warmers? It's like a million degrees out!". I shook my head and chuckled... "Thier not for me! Their for the baby!". Once again a puzzled look..."Why does the baby need leg warmers?". I stopped, hmm...good point. Why does the baby *need* these? I put them in our "baby box" and didn't think about them again till we moved. I unpacked them after Ollie was born and had them sitting in his sock drawer..staring at me everytime I got a pair of socks out. Up until a month and a half ago I *STILL* had no idea what they were reallllyyy for. Till one day I didn't feel like putting Ollie in pants and was looking around for something else... Low and behold...BABYLEGS. I was in love. Changing his diaper was quicker. They didn't bunch up when holding him. They looked ADORABLE. He was warm. I finally knew what the big deal was. Dave calls them "crazylegs" by the way haha. That week I searched Amazon and found a smaller infant sized pair for another great deal of $4.95 shipped. So now he has 2 pairs, and I'm hoping Zippy and Papa will buy him more. His grandparents are great that way, always taking notice of the small things we like. My dad loves the babylegs now too. I made us all firm believers.

Topic Thursday: Swimming while pregnant

Thats right. Swimming, while pregnant. Might not seem like a lot to those who haven't been pregnant or tried to swim while pregnant. Trust me, it can be challenging. I've loved the water my whole life. My parents took me to the shore every year since I was a toddler. I loved swimming and playing and especially diving. I would spend hours in our above ground pool. Even though, true be told, I didn't learn how to swim until I was around 12 or 13. It wasn't that I didn't *want* to, it was just no one ever taught me. Regardless I loved the water. I loved swimming while pregnant. For a short amount of time my back wasn't killing me, and I felt weightless. It was truly an amazing thing to be feeling the fresh pine air on my skin, breathing in the salty ocean mist, and feeling Ollie kicking away loving the sounds of the water swishing against his little home. Not to mention the invigerating 52 degree water...
Yes the water was 52 degrees, and that was the warmer of the two days. I should probably mention I was in Bar Harbor, Maine for 4th of July vacation with just my parents. They wanted one last vacation with just me, for ole times sake. I'm sure now they fantasize about how cute lil Ollie will look on sand beach with with pail and shovel. I can't wait. He'll have to prepare, I know I wasn't even close to prepared when I first dipped my feet into that water. Instantly numb. Then I got braver, ankles, calves, thighs. What was I thinking?! I didn't even have a full bathing suit on! I had swim shorts and a talk top on. It was incredibly cold, the temperature outside was barely 80 degrees and it was windy on top of that. But with that sun beating down on my bare skin, and my bun in the oven, I felt like s million degrees...
Ollie was kicking me every so offen. The water rose up just around my bust. I gazed out across the water, blue, green and white with foam. I could see my feet, even 4 feet down through the mint green tinted water. I didn't ever want to leave. I'd let myself bob and float there every other minute. Lifting my legs and wiggling the sand outta my toes. Seaweed wrapped around my arms and legs, but the view kept me from caring. The sounds kept me from being bothered that I couldn't feel anything below my waist. The smell of pine and sea salt rushing into my nostrils kept me from thinking about anything except me, Ollie and the sea. I daydreamed about being a mermaid and swimming out to one of the many rocks and sunbathing. I thought about the sunken ship parts scattered below "Old Soaker" on the ocean floor. I was having the best time. It was incredible. Being pregnant only made it better. If I couldn't have Dave there then th next person I'd want to experience that would be Ollie. He may not have gotten to see it,(yet) but he was there. And whenever I tell him this story, I'll get to say "you were there with me, in my belly".

Sleeping

Since my boy was sick yesterday and was quite the fuss pot today I'm gonna make this Topic Thursday kinda short.

Since the second Oliver was born he has this magical baby power over me. He can somehow sneeze and I wake instantly. Even while I sleep his very movement is captured by sleepy eyes and soothed until he falls peacefully a sleep. He sleeps like an angel, and sometimes not at all. His sleep is effected by the smallest noise and dimest of lights. He can't be tricked or rocked to sleep. He is wise beyond his years...or months rather.
Getting Ollie to sleep nowadays is like an Olympic sport, and I should be a gold medalist. He wakes at 8-9am and by 11-12 he's ready for a nap. Try telling him that. I'll nurse him to sleep and would rather be trapped with him a sleep on my lap then risk the chance of him waking by moving him. Too many times have I almost sobbed when he's gone into his swing only to open his eyes seconds after being put down. He's a cuddly guy, and that's all he wants....day and night. Afternoon naps are almost impossible. They're like a lunar eclipse; seen few times and AMAZING. When he has growth spurts, like now, I feel like these things you call "naps" are some rare bird that lives far away, one I'll only see in a zoo or on tv.
Naps are a walk in the park compared to the main event of nighttime sleep. I use to be greatful for the fact he started sleeping through the nights at 3 weeks. Then I had to start co-sleeping with him and realized I'd rather go back to waking every 2 hours and being awake for an hour inbetween. It was easier then. Co-sleeping with him was killing my back and racking my brain. I'd wake and check to see if he was ok every, oh 5 minutes... It was exhausting...
Now Oliver sleeps in his co-sleeper. It's easier on my back and my brain. He sleeps better and I can still obessively watch him breathe while he sleeps. Maybe one day We'll get him to sleep in his bassinet, during the DAY and night. I'm pretty sure that day will go down in history as the "best day ever".

Breastfeeding

When other mom's use to tell me they didn't breastfeed I secretly thought they were "awful mothers" who didn't "care about their baby's health or future". I would look down my nose on them for giving thier baby's formula, which clearly wasn't as good as breastmilk. I'd think about how selfish they were. They'd rather have a gassy, fussy, baby with a poor immune system. They'd rather have free time to do other things besides sit around breastfeeding all day. Why didn't they want the bonding? The accomplishment? The nutrients and anti-bodies?! What's WRONG with them?!?...
Nothing...there's nothing wrong with not breastfeeding. Sometimes you can't. Sometimes you have to work and can't pump. Sometimes your baby won't latch on at all. Sometimes...you just don't have the energy. The more times I read stories about women having those issues, the more I understood about why some don't breastfeed. And with the more I read, I got scared. I was terrified from the very first second the nurse placed my baby in my arms and said "Are you ready?". She taught me nothing, said nothing, and left the room. There I was, alone in my room, trying to shove my enourmous flat nipple into my son's mouth. He looked up at me with squinty, slimy eyes asking to be fed. I pulled away, squeezed my nipple...nothing came out. Not even a drop of colostrom which has soaked my shirts in the previous weeks. I couldn't understand where the milk was? Why wasn't it flowing from my breast and nourishing my son by now? Why was I broken?
What was really happening was my milk hadn't come in. Finally the nurse came back in and I told her "I couldn't do it". She looked at me disappointed. She told me she'd give him some formula. I was ashamed. I couldn't even feed my own son. And now he'd have to be formula fed and all my plans are down the drain, and I'm a horrible mom, etc. When I got back to my room they took him away to get some "sun". I sat in my room with Dave and watched him make phone calls. I sat there baffled. What was I doing wrong? Where was my milk? I "Googled" breasfeeding and read website after website. What were these terms they were talking about?! How do I "let down", should I try pumping instead? Was my son now forever tainted with formula? What if he didn't like my milk comparitivley?! I was freaking out. This wasa huge deal to me.
When the next nurse came in she came bearing a small bottle of Emfamil newborn formula. I told her "I wanted to breastfeed him." She told me that'd "be ok", but left the bottle on my table before leaving the room. I thought " oh god, she dosent think I'll be able to do it either!". I smuggly took my breast out of my bra and without acting like I needed any help, once again tried to breastfeed my child. He wouldn't take it...He wouldn't latch on. Not even for a second. I held back tears. I fed him the bottle as my family re-entered the room to see if I was feeding him...the way I wanted to. It was embarassing. My mom re-assured me, "'your milk just hasn't come in! Give it time Megg." Everyone had thier own opinion of course. And I was too stubborn and embarassed to listen to anyone.
That morning came and went and so far my son had eaten at least 6 bottles, of formula of course. The nurses switched and with that change the new one brought my baby back from testing. He was so beautiful, and at least full. I was grateful formula existed and wondred why I had hated it? The nurse asked me if I'd "like to try breastfeeding again?". I nodded and she placed him in arms on top of the Boppy. I tried again...and failed. I could feel the tears welling up as the nurse left, promising to be "right back". She came back after 5 minutes or so. During those 5 minutes I mustered up all my courage and told my embarassment off. I asked her, "can you help me do this? I don't know what I'm doing." She had un understanding smile and said "don't worry, it isn't always easy and sometimes just doesn't happen." It was sobering, yet it was something I needed to grasp. It might not happen, AND that's OK. She helped me guide and gave me tips, till, like a lightbulb, had an idea. She left and when she came back she had a little plastic case. "This is a nipple shield, it goes over top...sometimes they like the pertuded nipple more." I put it on and guided my nipple towards his mouth. He rooted around and struggled a bit. Then finally....he latched on. He sucked and I was surprised that it didn't feel worse, it felt better. My son was breastfeeding. And continued until I had to stop him. I was delighted. I didn't care that it was in "my plans", or what was "best". I was delighted because he was content and full, and I provided it.
I continued to nurse and suppliment until Oliver was 2 weeks old. From then on he's been. strictly breastfed. He loves nursing and sometimes uses it to fall a sleep. He's gaining weight at a normal rate and is in the 40 percentile. I couldn't be more happy with breastfeeding. It's frustrating at times and not always easy or convienent. But it's what works for us, so that's all that matters.
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