Challenge 1: Breastfeeding

Roman dads get it

It's been four months and I think I'm getting the hang of this fatherhood business finally coming up for air.

I won't lie, fatherhood is difficult. Good difficult, to be sure, but difficult nonetheless. I thought I'd start a series of posts called "Challenges" since, you know, it's hard and all. This first one is about breastfeeding.

It might be strange for a dad to be writing about breastfeeding. Isn't that the wife's department?

Sure enough, I'm not equipped to do it. And at first it felt like I shouldn't even be involved. What role could I play? For a long time, I would just hand Hazel to my wife and wish her the best. And I think for some families, that works because breastfeeding might come naturally or mom and baby catch on quickly. But things didn't at all go smoothly for us.

And it's not like we didn't prep. Before Hazel was born, my wife knew everything about breastfeeding. And I don't mean she just talked to her mom and read a how-to guide. She is a health communications expert, and had read countless studies. She knew about how it's the best thing to do for your infant. She'd even trained women in Bolivia to breastfeed. But that couldn't have prepared her for the condition she discovered she had.

My wife has IGS (insufficient glandular tissue), which made it impossible for her to produce enough breast milk to keep Hazel sated and growing. The trouble was we didn't know that right away. The hospital just didn't catch it. We'd had this overly-enthusiastic breastfeeding consultant come to our room several times and pantomime the way a baby latches and sucks. We read the hospital literature. We called the consultant a few more times when we were concerned and she even verified that Hazel was swallowing while sucking. (Swallowing her own spit, I guess.)

We arrived home and Hazel seemed out-of-control hungry. She wanted to nurse all the time and never seemed satisfied. On top of that, getting a good latch was painful. My wife had bruises and sores. And they say this is supposed to be natural? I could see my wife in pain and feeling frustrated and I felt unable to help. What could I do anyway?

Cry for Help

This isn't so much a blog post as it is a desperate plea from a desperate novice to all you savvy parents out there.

Hazel will not sleep. Only 2 hours last night. Almost nothing in napping today. We are going mad. I once heard that a very effect form of torture is sleep deprivation. It's true. I'm living it. And it's worse than that because the deprivation is coupled with infant cries which studies show raise blood pressure no matter who you are. It's worse for my wife; I'm deaf in my right ear so I can sleep when it's her turn to pace the floor; she can't when it's mine.

Our book on infant sleep is useless because it fails to explain how to lay an infant down without her crying. This afternoon I tried twelve times in a row. I'd rock and bounce her until she looked totally, absolutely blissful. Lip quivering. Eyelids fluttering. Limbs limp. Baby sleep perfection. The moment we lay her down, she whimpers, then cries, then screams. Her spine goes rigid. She's completely awake in seconds. It takes another ten to twenty minutes to get her drowsy again. Meaning I spent an hour and a half today just trying to get her down for her mid-morning nap.

I finally got her to sleep for a half-hour. And she's sleeping again now late in the evening. But she only sleeps on top of my wife or me, which means one of us is grounded whenever she's down. At least one of us has to go to bed pretty early, which would be great but she won't sleep so we're pajamaed and up for hours with her.

Watch Her Grow

Birth

Week 1

Week 2

Week 3

Week 4
(Halloween)

Week 5

Week 6

Week 7 (Blessing Day)

Week 8

Week 9

Week 10

Week 11
(Christmas)

Week 12

The Media Message to Girls

I concur with this father of a daughter:

It´s worth watching and worth doing something about.

Hazel's Christmas Wish

This is definitely going in Hazel's stocking. Watch the video, buy the toy, and make the world a better place:

Our Birth Story, Part III

It was 8 o'clock on Sunday evening. My wife had already gone three nights without sleep. She was only dilated three centimeters and so we had just been sent home from the hospital, something we didn't anticipate. After all, she'd already been in active labor for forty-one hours. How long would it take to dilate to a ten and have this baby? We were about to find out.

I could tell from the look on my wife's face we were not going back unless we were absolutely sure the baby was coming. I could also see that the pain was intense. Her face was taut and she seemed less and less aware of what was happening around her. My mother-in-law drew a warm bath for her. After an hour-long soak, she dressed and came into the bedroom to lie down. I read aloud to her while her mom smoothed her hair. I grew dimly aware that my dad-in-law was anxious to get going. The contractions were severe. She stood and started moving around the house again, trying to lessen the pain. She stopped being able to breathe through her contractions. That was enough for her dad; he grabbed his coat and made several gestures that we should go. I looked to my wife who still seemed determined to stay home. So we waited a bit longer. As a precaution, I put on my shoes and put everything by the door.

Finally, it was time. All she said was, "I want that birthing tub." We trudged out to the car and headed for the hospital for the second time.

Our Birth Story, Part II

I awoke to someone crying out. It was hours before dawn on Sunday morning and my wife had already been in labor for over 24 hours. I had been up half the night with her, but after serving her some cold cereal she had ordered me to sleep. Now upset with myself, I tore out of bed and went searching for her.

We later discovered the crying out was my dad-in-law in the guest bedroom vocalizing in his sleep, a not uncommon occurrence for him. I found my wife in the dark in the nursery. She sat in our new glider because every time she lay down the contractions increased and became unbearable. Desperate for sleep, she had found the most comfortable seat in the house and tried to nap. Her stamina was awe-inspiring. I already felt completely drained and craved sleep. I couldn't even imagine what she must be experiencing going on her third night without rest.

In the morning, I found her on the living room sofa, having slept less than an hour all night. She was starting to look a little haggard, truth be told, but as the morning passed she perked up some. During the night, she told me, she had felt cold and went to the hall closet for a blanket. Several doors in our house need to be planed because they stick. My wife had to wrench open this closet door, just on the other side of the room where her parents were sleeping. To them, it sounded like someone had fallen down. Just as my wife reached for a blanket, her dad threw open the door and said, "What are you doing?" She said she froze, felt like she'd been caught red-handed.