Thursday, April 21, 2016
I originally thought I would breastfeed 6 months and then continue with solids. I clearly had no idea on how babies work. Our start was not exactly easy, 6 months flew by and by then it was so comfortable and she was growing so well that I was definitely not stopping at that moment. Then I thought I would simply go on to 1 year at which point I planned on trading the boob for bottles of regular cow milk. Except the baby had other plans. We tried several different types of bottles, and they just would not replace the boob. Sure she would drink a bit and fiddle around with a bottle, but it would not ultimately make her sleep or calm her down, it was more of a game or a snack. At that point she was still waking up several times each night. Nothing would soothe her except the breast and only mom was accepted. Rocking, bouncing, shh-ing, singing, reading stories, massage, dim-lights and strict routines did not really help at those moments. I read that at that point babies "didn't really need" breast milk anymore and that it was just a ("bad") habit. I was not convinced, so I followed my instinct and kept on. The World Health Organization does recommend breastfeeding until 2 years old, so I figured there was at least some benefit in breastfeeding (and is there! *), but more importantly I felt that she truly needed it. For me, even an emotional need was justified.
We read that it had to be the non-breastfeeding partner who should be giving the bottle and soothing the baby, but she really would not have it. A year went by, in which she fully stopped breastfeeding during the day, not even when I came home from work, at around 6 pm, after being all day in daycare (the first few months she seemed to need me at the end of the day, just briefly). There were also periods, particularly during a very hot holiday (Sevilla in July, with 40ºC temperatures) where she would ask for the breast during the day which was unusual for her at that time. Honestly, I would have liked her to naturally outgrow the nightly wake ups by herself, to wait until she was ready. But it was becoming very, very tiring and sometimes I felt she was just there because it was what she knew to do, and because she did not know how to sleep otherwise. Naps have never been a problem, but calming down at the end of an exciting day and fully relaxing has always been a challenge for her. At the end of last year we went to the fertility clinic again, to get everything tested before starting treatment again, as nothing seems to be happening on my womb, no matter how much we try. At first the doctor said that the hormonal treatment is not known to pass through the breast tissue into the milk, so in principle, she would be safe, but after discussing it with other specialists at the clinic they decided not to take a risk, as the impact of breastfeeding on implantation is not very well understood. So even though I was ovulating, we had to wean her before attempting treatment again. It was so bittersweet, I felt like I was betraying her, in some weird way. Like it was a cruel and mean thing to do to her, to take away something that she needed so much. At the same time, I was ready to -maybe- start sleeping full nights again, and she was starting to suck very very hard, making it painful and uncomfortable.
We had heard about a technique where you gradually reduce the time of each breastfeeding session. We tried that, but with her it would not work. If she did not get all the milk she needed, or if I released her while she was soothed but not completely done, she would wake up 15-20 minutes after, or wake up multiple times in a 3 hour interval. At the moment when we decided to really wean her, just before her second birthday, she was breastfeeding 2-4 times a night: around 8 pm when she fell asleep, then around 11 pm, then around 1 am and later, sometimes, at 3 or 4 am. Since she was not going to accept shorter breastfeeding sessions we decided to go cold-turkey on every session, doing 1 session at a time, starting by the first one ( 8 pm, sleepy time) and waiting until that one was assimilated before moving on to the next one. All in all the whole process probably took around 1 month or perhaps it was 3 weeks. It was at once the hardest thing I have done as a parent, and yet, easier than I thought. I think taking the decision and going through those first 3 or 4 days was the most difficult. I was happy to do it at a moment where she could really understand what was going on, where we could explain it to her and she could process it. I did not feel like telling her things like "the boobs are asleep", it felt strange to me to talk of them as a separate entity, not as part of my body, of me. So we just told her that she was a big girl now and that she was ready to learn to sleep without mom's milk. She understood it so well she refused right away and started crying whenever we mentioned it, but she did accept to try. We also told her that we would always be there to soothe her if she needed it.
We decide not to have Mark soothe her while I went away to another room, because it felt like we would be taking away two things she wanted, the milk, and me, and she would totally lose her shit. It was something we had to do together. So on day one we explained what was going to happen and I just started rocking her, without breastfeeding. She cried and cried. I did as well, silently, while Mark was holding my hand and signed to me that it was ok, that we could go through it. I think the intense crying lasted no more than 1 minute, but it felt so long, it was so heartbreaking. At one point she would accept the pacifier and fall asleep. Those days I would still breastfeed at the next wake ups. We did this for about a week. I think she only cried the first 3 days, and those were the hardest. Once sleeping without breastfeeding was settled, we moved on to the next session, normally 11 pm. Those times normally Mark would pick her up from her crib and try to soothe her or offer water. This second session coincided with an antibiotic treatment, so she would get it at that time and since it was a sweet "treat", sometimes she would just settle down with a bit of rocking. There were times where she would want to sleep on top of my chest or where she would ask for water or milk (in a glass). This again, took about a week. Then she started skipping the 1 am session on some days, sleeping for longer stretches. If she would wake up we would explain again that she could not have breast milk, but she could be with us, and we offered water, milk or the pacifier. When this seemed settled we tackled the last wakeup (3-4 am). This time, since we were well in the process I told her she would have breast milk for a definite amount of time (10 minutes), and then we would stop. She understood it and accepted it. The next day I told her we would do it for 9 minutes, then 8, then, 7, and so forth. The day she had 2 minutes was the last time she woke up to ask for breast milk. I think two or three times after that she asked around 5 or 6 am, which was rare for her (she had not being doing that since the baby days), but since it was so close to breakfast tine and since I did not want to be inconsistent (that would seem mean to me, why would I sometimes say yes, and sometimes deny it), I would explain that she did not need it anymore and we would just cuddle. It was hard, but I was afraid it would just mess the process and it seemed cruel to go backwards when we were almost done with the process.
I really could not believe it, but since we night weaned her she started sleeping longer stretches at night. Sometimes she does still wake up in the middle of the night, but a bit of shh-ing and soothing usually brings her back to sleep. There are days where she looks at my chest, points at it and says that milk is for babies, that she is a big girl. Or she role-plays it with her cow and calf figurines. It was hard, but I think it was the good decision for both of us at the moment it happened.
Have you gone through something similar? How did you do it?
* This fascinating article summarizes it well
Saturday, March 19, 2016
I made these oatmeal bars for Y.'s birthday in the form of little bears and ever since then she has been repeatedly asking for them: "Bobbi, Bobbi, Bobbi, eten". Last Monday, after we finally made them again she insisted on bringing some to her favorite teacher. We wrapped them in silk paper and a ribbon and she had them ready in her little backpack. Toddlers are full of feelings! We arrived at school in the morning, she took them and excitedly gave them to her teacher, happily. Then we left the room to go upstairs to her classroom and she started crying and crying like she suddenly realized giving something meant letting go off it as well. It took her a bit to process it, she talked about the incident on the days that followed, we emphasized how kind and thoughtful it was for her to share her cookies, eventhough it also made her a bit sad to give them away.
Anyhow, these are so good, easy and healthy that I thought I'd post the recipe.
You will need :
3 tbsp. honey
270 gr. oats
a bit of cinammon
150 gr. raisins and dried cranberries
What to do:
Preheat the oven to 200ºC. Peel and grate the apples. Drain the excess liquid using a sieve (but don't throw it a way, save it and drink it: it is delicious, fresh apple juice). Mash the bananas. Mix the fruit with the oney, oats, cinnamon and dried fruits.
Line an oven tray with parchment paper. I used a cookie cutter to give the bars the form of bears and spooned the mix into the form, then gently lifted it. Bake for 25-30 minutes and let cool. Enjoy!
Sunday, February 28, 2016
I have been thinking a lot about whether or not to write about this. It makes me feel selfish and guilty and ungrateful. But I can't be the only one going through this and I am putting it out there because we should be able to talk about the things that no one dares or wants to talk about. Not at baby groups, not at birthday parties, not with other moms, or even with friends. You never know what other people might be going through, it is so difficult to share without accidentally hurting someone.
We would like to have another baby. I am longing so, so hard to be pregnant again. It is becoming very difficult to bear, so much it hurts. Scenario number 1: we go to a kids' party and I can't help but notice all the moms with kids Y.'s age are either pregnant or already have a second little one. This also applies to most of the people we know who had a baby at about the same time or even after we did. Scenario number 2: we go for a stroll to the dunes/woods/the park/a playground and stumble upon plenty of families with more than 1 kid, with an age difference that does not seem higher than 2 years. Scenario number 3: people start discussing post-baby birth-control methods at a Facebook's mom group and suddenly we are not talking about birth control at all. I find myself reading stories about how someone knows at least 5 people who got pregnant while using an IUD and how somebody else's best friend got pregnant while her husband had already had a vasectomy (!!). It is impossible not to feel alienated in face of such an "innocent" conversation, where women are just sharing their experiences about accidentally getting pregnant while trying hard to avoid it. Ah, but you are not like those women. In fact it never occurred to us to even use any form of birth control (other than condoms, for the first 6 months, to allow healing) since the baby was born. We night weaned the baby, we have been tracking my ovulation, and know it is happening, and yet nothing. We hear of surprise pregnancies and of people conceiving (seemingly) with ease (normal I guess, when there are many parents in our social circle) and I can't help but feeling like an outcast, with no one to talk about it.
We are back where we started, facing again that old witch, infertility. The bitch. She did not really go away. And yet we know we have been blessed. Oh, how much. Even as I write this I feel like I should not be having these feelings at all because our miracle was granted. I am grateful every single day and I feel almost bad, greedy for dreaming of more. And yet we pray and hope and continue to delude ourselves into thinking that it might just happen
Sunday, January 24, 2016
I don't know how it happened but I have a 2 year old and it seems so sudden. This year was the year we saw her change from a small but strong willed baby to a confident, curious, independent little girl that knows so very well what she wants. Of course the changes were not sudden. Our daughter. She changes and learns so much every single second. It is such a joy to see her take life in, explore, grow, discover.
I hear a lot of parents say that it's not worth it, at this stage, to organize parties for their children because they won't remember. When I see how much fun Y. has at her friends' parties, when I see how much she enjoys hitting the piñata (we made one for Christmas and she has been practicing non-stop), when I see how much she loves cakes and treats and playing, I honestly don't care if she will remember or not. All I care is that she will enjoy, have a blast, feel loved and celebrated.
The theme for this year's birthday was Bobbi beer. She fell in love with the happy little bear from the Dutch book series ever since we read her a story with him for the first time, so it was just a natural choice. It is amusing to see how certain books really speak to her. It's almost like a real friend, Bobbi and Y., they get each other (and the illustrations are really lovely).
We wanted to keep it relatively simple, however I still wanted it to feel special. This year we didn't have the time or energy to make a piñata, but we got it from another Mexican who is a true artist: she was able to construct it just from looking at a drawing.
I made her a blueberry and coconut milk cake and iced it following Sweetapolita's pastel swirl cake tutorial. Then I used paper straws and some wrapping paper to make a carousel with Bobbi bear and its friends. I used this tutorial to make party favor bags (and yeah, I know that is the Paddington bear, but I just thought they were similar enough, and the 2-year-old didn't seem to mind, all bears are Bobbi to her). They were very easy to make.
For snacks there were mozzarella-tomato-basil skewers, olives, peanuts, cut veggies with hummus, mandarin and grapes on a stick and these apple-banana-oatmeal bars in the form of little bears. I also made orange and chia-seed water and that was about it.
It was so nice to see her running around and playing with her friends and having a day all for herself. Do you like to make a big deal out of birthdays or do you prefer low-key celebrations (Mark's the latter)?
Friday, December 18, 2015
Well... hello. It has been a while. Is anyone still here? I have missed writing so much. But I am always so bone-tired that I never seem to be able to make the time.
Suddenly, it is that time of the year again. I think I've written before about how the boy does not love having a lot of Christmas decorations or a tree (he just hates stuff in general, and anything that looks crammed).
Last year we had a real Christmas tree, albeit a small one, and it was lovely, but also, I spent a lot of time trying to stop Y. from hurting herself with the crystal spheres (I don't know why I thought they'd be safe).
When I saw pics of toddler-friendly trees made of felt, I knew we would be making one. It is the perfect activity for little children, it is easy, flat, does not take up space and it is oh so pretty (and lazy!) .
We just got the felt from the craft store, free-handed the form of the tree and the ornaments, cut it and attached everything together with safety pins and double-sided tape. We made little holes to
let the lights go through and attached everything with a bit of tape.
Yu loved participating in the process, admiring it and helping assembling it. When it was still work in progress she would hold our hands, lead us to the couch where it was waiting to be hanged and smile in awe, asking us to light it up.It was magic.
We do not have any plans yet for Christmas, I am looking forward to taking a pause, just being with our closest family. And maybe making a ton of cookies with little girl. She loves cooking (and getting messy with flour) How are you celebrating? What traditions are important to you?
Thursday, September 10, 2015
Life these days does not stop. I feel like I am inside a washing machine that keeps turning round and round, over and over again. Whoever started talking about "balance" when referring to navigating work and family life never really experienced it. I do not feel there is a balance at all. I feel like we are constantly running just to keep the status quo, just to (barely) keep functioning.
Mornings start very early. As soon as we are up it's full get ready, make breakfast, eat breakfast, get dressed, go, go, go. To the train, to the car, to bring Y. to daycare. The days when I can bring her are the best, because it is such a calm, happy place. You don't just drop the kid and go. You have to stay a short while so that the transition takes place in a smooth way. They make nice coffee too.
I like working, I like being productive and helping people out, and learning. And I like the people I work with. But I would be lying if I said I did not think of my girl a lot during the day. I daydream of our days spent at parks, finding cafés to drink latte's and eat lunch together and walking around the city, discovering new places.
By the time I am back home, the focus is on eating dinner, then playing a bit, reading books and shortly after Yu's bath time and sleeping ritual follow. I want to be present when I am with her, our hours together being now so limited. When she finally falls asleep we are both exhausted. Brain dead. Collapsed. I want to do stuff, but more than anything I want to rest and that always ends up winning. Dishes, minimum picking up, still have to happen.
Weekends are the best but they are not very relaxing. We do all kinds of fun stuff together, we visit friends, we try to go to exciting places (like the petting farm), we catch up with friendships. Laundry, cleaning, groceries have to get sneaked in between.
It keeps going on and on and on.
We are still breastfeeding during the night and though I am ovulating, I am still not pregnant. It makes me feel really sad. I also feel really guilty for being sad, because I know how blessed we are. But we are yearning for another baby, and when you are everyone around you seems to be getting pregnant at the same time. Several friends of us who have children the age of Y. are expecting their second kids and I hate feeling the jealousy again. I do not like to dwell in negative feelings, but they are there. We keep hoping though, and we keep going, trusting, praying.