birth clubs and other online mommy groups

Before I was even pregnant, when we first started trying to conceive, I found myself visiting all of the mommy-focused websites out there… Babycenter, Kaboose, Babytalk, and American Baby to name a few. I absorbed as much info as I could about trying to conceive, the earliest signs of pregnancy, tips for a healthy pregnancy, preparing for baby and so on. I frequented the community areas, joining in on forums and conversations. When I actually finally got pregnant, my participation increased threefold. I joined a “birth club” on Babycenter, and connected with other women who were due around the same time as me. We chatted daily, sharing our fears, concerns, hopes and dreams. We supported and learned from each other. It gave us a forum to ask questions that we might not have anyone else to ask. Some posts dealt with heavier subjects such as genetic screenings and the fear of receiving negative results, or the news of a late term miscarriage. Others were more lighthearted and led to debates regarding breast or bottle, cloth diaper or disposable. Through some we learned things about pregnancy and labor that no one had every told us before… like the fact that pooping on the table during labor is actually a common occurrence (oh my god the horror!).

For many women, these types of online groups provided a great sense of community and support. They are a go-to resource for the 40 weeks of pregnancy and often times continue on into motherhood. My Babycenter “birth club” still connects daily. Posts now tend to focus on developmental milestones and the issues that we face as new moms.

While I am so thankful to have had and have the group for support, I do think that there is a potential negative effect of all of the connecting we are doing nowadays in this new world of digital moms. There are many many things I have learned through my different connections online. It is true that for the most part knowledge is power, but there is also some validity to the notion that ignorance is bliss. While the web allowed me to go through pregnancy and enter motherhood armed with knowledge that I would not have otherwise had, it has also at times caused me to worry unnecessarily and obsess over things that, without it, I would never even thought of. I read post after post about women going into early labor and grew convinced that the same thing would happen to me. Other women would comment about how much they were feeling their baby move inside them, while I was still feeling nothing. Was my baby ok? What did this mean? People shared stories about mothers they knew who had a baby die of SIDS. I quickly removed all blankets and bumpers from our son’s crib and lectured my mother and mother-in-law about the importance of sleep safety. When BPA became a hot topic, I quickly went out and bought all new bottles. The amount of times that a story/posting that I read online drove me to either make or change a decision regarding my little one are countless.

surviving colic

The first couple of weeks after we brought our little guy home from the hospital were a breeze. He nursed and slept… slept and nursed. The whole newborn thing was a piece of cake… or so I thought. I clearly remember telling someone on the phone, “I can’t believe how easy this all is!” Then one day it all changed… drastically.

It was right around our little guy’s third week. My husband had to be in NYC for business so he was off early for the day. I got up with the baby, ready for another day of nursing, sleeping, changing, repeat. The baby had an entirely different idea for the day. The crying started mid-morning… and progressed to inconsolable screaming shortly thereafter. I tried all that I could think of to soothe him… breast, rocking, pacifier, swaying, stroller ride, and so on. Nothing worked. After three plus hours of crying, and countless calls to my husband demanding that he come home now, I called the pediatrician. I explained to the nurse the morning we were having, and she told me, “It sounds like it could be the beginning of colic.” That dreaded word. No, it absolutely was not colic. It had to be something else. Being convinced that there had to be something wrong, I made an appointment to bring him in.

There was nothing “wrong”… it was colic… and it wasn’t going away anytime soon.
To say dealing with colic is a challenge is an understatement. It is hard… very hard. The worst we experienced was eight hours of straight crying. I remember moments of complete physical and emotional exhaustion where I would put the little guy in his bouncer… still crying of course… and just curl up on the floor next to him and cry myself. As a mother, it is incredibly difficult to not be able to soothe your child. All you want to do is make it all better.

Determined to at least make my son as comfortable as possible and to lessen the colic (and resulting crying) to whatever degree I could, I sought out every tip and trick I could find. My first move was to make drastic changes to my diet (since I was breastfeeding). I cut out all dairy, acidic and spicy foods. I started seeing almost immediate results. I turned to music and rhythmic motion. One of the best tricks we learned (actually a favorite of my husband’s) was to bounce on an inflated exercise ball, while holding baby. We bounced for hours! We never tried the car seat on top of the dryer trick (which some moms swear by!), but we did on occasion find ourselves on extended destination-less drives through our neighborhood. The sound and vibration of the engine running would usually calm the little guy down… key word being usually. Night after night and week after week, my husband and I took turns swaying and shushing, rocking and walking.

All the books tell you the same things… there is no real known cause for colic… there is no real no known cure for colic… and that more often than not it is gone by three months. I was cautious in believing the last point, but maintained hope that it was true. Thankfully, for us, it was. Almost as quickly as it started, it subsided. Seemingly overnight, our little guy was a whole new baby.
Even though he is just ten months now, those times now seem like a distant memory. I have to really think back to remember how difficult it was. He is such a happy and easy-going baby, full of smiles and giggles. He brings more joy to our lives than we could have ever dreamed possible.

Colic is hard… very hard. While going through it, one might wonder how they are ever going to survive it… but they will… and it will all be worth it.

separation anxiety

I am a working mom, so (although it is not my favorite thing in the world) my little guy goes to daycare. He is with either my parents or my in-laws two days a week, but then goes to an actual daycare for three. I love love love his daycare. He was going to a different place when I first returned to work, but we since changed…. And could not be happier. It is a small private program, that some might describe as a little crunchy. They focus on a creative curriculum (which still baffles me considering he is only 10 months old) and spend a good deal of the day outside in the play area or veggie garden. He comes home dirty just as a little boy should… not dirty as in unclean, but dirty as in he has been play play playing all day long.

Most mornings when I drop him off the routine stays fairly consistent… one of the morning caregivers scoop him out of my arms upon arrival (they just can’t get enough of his cheeks!) and take him to play as I sign him in and chat briefly with the other girls on staff. I then give him a big kiss goodbye, he gives me the “you can totally leave because I am having a good time with my friends" look, and I head on my way. Well, not this morning. After I gave him a kiss on his head, his eyes began to well up and before I knew it he was in full on tears. My first instinct was to scoop him into my arms and walk right out the door with him. Somehow I was able to hold back, realizing that this was his first demonstration of separation anxiety. One of the girls picked him and took him to another area to play, trying to distract him as I walked out the door. It took all my strength to leave him for the day. I cried a bit on my way to work, but found comfort in the fact that he was upset because I was leaving… me… his mom. It feels good to know that he feels the connection just as strongly as I do.

Man, I love my little guy… I can’t wait to be pick him up in an hour and give him the biggest hug in the world!!

best is what's best for you

In the months leading up to our little guy’s birth, the question “are you going to breast feed?” came up quite frequently. Surprisingly, it wasn’t just docs or my mom who did the asking… but rather what seemed like anyone and everyone. I had read all the baby books, so I knew “breast is best”, that you “should” nurse until a year, that you should not supplement with formula, that bottles and pacifiers could cause “nipple confusion”, etc, etc. Choosing to breast feed was not really a decision for me… I just kind of always knew I would do it. As with most mothers, the thought of it before baby was completely bizarre, but regardless I planned on giving it a go. Andrew latched right on after birth and my milk came in just fine. I was one of the lucky ones, for whom breast feeding came really easy. The first few weeks went great. I enjoyed the extra quiet time we got to spend together and secretly loved knowing that only I could nourish him.

As the weeks passed, I started to feel trapped… I needed to be able to get out and get a little time for myself. I needed to be able to get out for dinner with my husband. So, I did what all good breast feeding mamas are supposed to do… I got a pump. From day one, I hated pumping… actually, I despised pumping. It is hard not to feel like a cow when you have a machine extracting milk from you… ugh. I could not stand it. While breast feeding had gone really well for me, pumping did not. I could barely get any milk and the whole process of freezing it in baggies was just too much for me. Also, because I obviously had to be pumping in between feedings, I could not help but feel like I was either nursing or pumping around the clock. I just could not do it. So I made the difficult decision to… gasp… supplement with formula. It was the best decision I ever made. It allowed my husband to be involved in feedings, and gave me the opportunity for a little “me time” when I needed it.

All said and done, I breast fed exclusively for about 2-months, then slowly began supplementing with formula, and completely switched from breast to bottle by 4-months. In the eyes of the La Leche League or the other hard core breast feeding coalitions out there, I guess maybe I was a failure. I could care less. I feel like a success. I gave it a shot, and it was a great for a while. I then made a change that was great for baby and me.

In a recent issue of BabyTalk, author Paul Spencer shares her take on breast feeding in, The New Breast Feeding Rules. Her piece is light-hearted and realistic. I think it is a great read for any new mommies out there.