Trials

Trials

There’s a lot I want to post about. Finding the time is hard, and deciding which angle to take is also difficult. There has also been some discussion recently on my facebook news feed about things that hit close to home. So I will try to make some sense of what is spinning around my brain.

Griffin is 7 weeks. At 3 weeks he started screaming. To give you some context: he was born at home, I had a haemmorhage, we got it under control so I stayed home however I was very weak for 2 weeks and had to rest. He has had ONE decent night’s sleep in his life. The week he turned 2 weeks was the Christmas lead up so I didn’t get much rest that week (and in fact was bleeding heavily again, until I passed a sizeable clot). He was still hurting me when he fed.

The week after Christmas was still busy and he had started to get “fussy”. Crying inconsolably unless asleep or at the boob (and since it was hurting me, I wasn’t thrilled by that). I read this article about wind in babies. I felt somewhat reassured that this was all normal. But he certainly seemed to need to be held upright, and would burp quite wet burps when held thusly, so it didn’t really fit with my experience with Griffin. I re-read the fussy baby section of the Sears’ Baby Book. It got worse. I was feeding on demand, co-sleeping, had him in a sling… remember the haemmorhage? Walking round and round the house three weeks post blood loss is not really good for recovery. But I did it, because you do what you have to, right? I took him to chiro twice, no joy.

I paid closer attention to what was going on with him. I looked up his symptoms. Everything pointed to silent reflux. He wasn’t puking but we could hear him refluxing, and he would often grimace as he swallowed it back down. He choked on milk. This was especially bad at night, and there were times he’d choke and gasp for breath (thank crap we were co-sleeping). Sometimes he stopped breathing. He wheezed and snuffled, sounded congested even though he wasn’t. He hiccupped a lot, did a lot of wet burps. He slept restlessly, squirming and waking easily. He gagged himself with his fist while holding his head to the side, arched his back, gulped and spluttered. Classic signs of silent reflux.

I wanted to avoid putting anything in his gut. This was the one baby I’d managed to ensure got a virgin gut. That beautiful unhindered birth, no drugs or antibiotics. But out of desperation we tried one colic remedy. It didn’t help.

At 3 weeks and 5 days the crying reached an intensity that sent me over the edge. He screamed himself hoarse, he was losing his voice. Lloyd said he sounded like a dying seagull. “This is not normal, there is something wrong with him”. I was crying, wanting to make his pain go away. I said I wanted to take him to a gp… a huge thing for me as normally we avoid them unless absolutely necessary. I hated the thought of exposing my newborn to unknown germs in the waiting room. But, something was not right.

We took our chances with a potluck gp. I had been talking our woes through with some friends who’d had reflux babies and I got the name of a specialist paediatrician so we could get a referral. At the gp we outlined his behaviour and symptoms (he obliged by screaming constantly). I asked for the referral. He gave it, said it could very well be reflux and prescribed Losec. He said it could take a while to work, which I’d known was the case.

We got the Losec. I was resolute. As much as I’d wanted to avoid this, I didn’t want to stuff around trying this diet, that remedy, etc while my baby suffered. I conceded dairy (sob) but swore no more eliminations. I couldn’t handle the thought of depriving myself of food on top of everything else. So we gave him the Losec. I did feel awful about his gut. But life isn’t perfect and I did what seemed right at the time.

His latch when feeding was still horrendous and I was in a lot of pain. I was trying for small frequent feeds to help the reflux but really I was trying to space them out so I got a break… so he was having quick feeds every hour. His poos started to go green two days before we started the Losec (hence me conceding the dairy just in case). A friend told me that bad latch after 4 weeks was not good so I should see a lactation consultant. I didn’t know who I should see, so asked for recommendations. Two people mentioned Bridget Ingle, and I remembered hearing about her when I was having breastfeeding issues with Kira. However I also remember she was nigh on impossible to get an appointment with! But I thought I’d try, on the offchance. And, amazingly, I got an appointment.

We toddled off to see Bridget. She winced at the sight of my poor compressed nipples. Sat for quite some time with Griffin, leting him suck on a gloved finger, poking around his mouth. The first thing she said was “Do you hear those noises?”

Well yes, we’d noticed his funny little noises.

“That’s laryngomalacia. It means weak larynx.” And she explained what THAT meant for him and us. And she outlined a bunch of symptoms that correlated with silent reflux as well. My jaw was possibly on the floor. A mild case, but nonetheless something physical that was causing issues.

The next revelation was that he had a posterior tongue tie. I was pretty gobsmacked. “But he can stick his tongue out!”
Bridget explained it wasn’t about that, it had to do with the function of the tongue. In Griffin’s case, he could stick his tongue out a little but he couldn’t move his tongue in the required ways for proper breastfeeding technique. And this was also something that could affect him later on, with eating solids, speech and oral hygiene.

Bridget explained that normally she would recommend a snip straight away, but because of his weak larynx it might not be such a good idea. After checking my positioning she made a few minor adjustments and suggested continuing with good positioning and tunny time as therapy for his throat/tongue and larynx (strengthening muscles). If there was no improvement it would be time to consider snipping. He also has a high arched palate which further complicates the latch issue, and was probably caused by the tongue tie in utero.

We had a very interesting discussion about reflux. We mentioned that we thought he had silent reflux and he was on medication. I said it sounded like maybe his reflux was these other things combined. Bridget said there are links between reflux and tongue tie. When I got home I looked up both conditions and both can cause reflux symptoms. Hmmm.

Reflux and tongue tie
Laryngomalacia and reflux

Armed with our new knowledge we started tummy time, and I paid attention to positioning. I fed him as he wanted as Bridget reinforced that breastmilk is a natural antacid and is the best thing for him. I took him to a different chiropractor. We continued with dairy free and the losec, because of course we didn’t know for sure what the deal was with the reflux. After a few days latch was still abysmal so I got the details of two doctors who snip tongue tie. I called up and luckily got an appointment due to a cancellation.

We shared the new information with the world. It seemed we had some fairly concrete reasons for Griffin’s “fussiness”. However people seemed keen to reassure us that sometimes babies cry, for no seeming reason. That it’s normal for babies to cry. I can’t express how frustrating it is to a mama of three children, who has been there 24/7 since the child’s birth, who has woken with every choking or apnea episode, who has listened to her baby’s cries become progressively weaker, who knows with every nerve in her body that her baby is NOT crying for no reason… to be told again and again that “crying is normal, that sometimes babies cry for no reason” especially AFTER telling people that he has health issues that are affecting his feeding/sleeping/wellbeing. Yes, I know babies sometimes cry for reasons we can’t fathom (though I tend to believe there is always a reason, we just might never know why) but it is so minimising to tell parents “all babies cry” in these situations.

He cries because he chokes when he feeds. He has a larynx that doesn’t function normally. He cries because he’s not feeding properly. He cries because his experience of the world isn’t normal. He has more wind and gas than your average baby because of physical issues that mean he swallows more air. He has reflux episodes that probably irritate his larynx. He doesn’t cry for NO REASON.

Now thankfully his weak larynx is a minor condition that he will grow out of. Thankfully tongue ties can be snipped. His palate is more tricky but should resolve over time. I’m incredibly grateful these are all minor and temporary issues. But living it, especially what it means for breastfeeding, is incredibly difficult.

Rant over.

We saw the specialist paediatrician. I left feeling deflated. He didn’t examine him. He listened to us describe his symptoms, said it could be acid reflux or food intolerance from my diet. To continue dairy free but increase the Losec frequency to twice a day. He told me to continue breastfeeding on demand. But that was it. He wasn’t interested in the tongue tie or the weak larynx. This puzzled me, as surely it was relevant?

The next day was the tongue tie snip. I was feeling pretty anxious about it. I’m not into body modification for babies, but I knew this was correcting an abnormality and breastmilk is of course something he needs (especially as he’s at risk of more respiratory and ENT issues with his weak larynx). And why should breastfeeding remain excruciating for me?

I was a little worried the doctor would say “No tie” but he could definitely see and feel it. It was done in a minute. Griffin latched on beautifully but he still compressed my nipple. But I noticed an instant improvement in his suck/swallow co-ordination. Instead of gulping the milk down and gasping he was controlling a lot better. Promising!

I took him home and worked fervently on his positioning. No improvement in latch, but suddenly we had a vomiter! It didn’t seem to be bothering him, and he started visibly chunking up. I experienced some engorgement again as he increased my supply. His poos seemed to be going back to normal. We made the executive decision to take him off the Losec… his chucking seemed more normal and a lot of his symptoms could be attributed to the larynx issue. We thought we’d keep an eye on him and see if he started going backwards, as day by day he seemed to be a bit more settled. But he was still damaging my nipples. We went back to Bridget. The day before his poos started going a bit iffy again. Anyway, we saw her and his tongue is moving more freely but he’s still retracting it for feeds. Bad habit! We were given exercises for encouraging him to keep his tongue out.

So that’s where we’re at now. The poos seem to be a lactose overload issue, he’s getting too much foremilk and not enough hindmilk so I’m trying different ways of dealing with it. We’re going to the chiro regularly. He has good mornings and crappy evenings. And breastfeeding hurts. I can’t believe that I’m going through breastfeeding pain again. I was so terrified that this would happen with Imogen, yet after the first week of relearning how to feed a newborn our breastfeeding journey was without hiccups. It was smooth, easy, pain free. This time I had no worries. My third baby! I knew what I was doing… I feel like I’ve been hit with a brick sometimes, when I think about it. Not fair. It’s NOT FAIR. I can breastfeed easily, I have a great supply (too good maybe!) so why did this happen to me again? And knowing that all he has to do is stick out his tongue… but how do you beg and plead a newborn to do something when they can’t understand you?

I’ve also had a lot of friends share an article on the overuse of reflux medications in infants. It’s hitting a nerve I admit. I’m sure it’s not personally aimed at me, but it still stings. We did the best that we could at the time, not knowing exactly what was going on with him but knowing at least that something was not right. I do wish I’d seen Bridget first, but what’s done is done.

I’m trying very hard to stay positive, to think that yes, at some point he’ll get it and it will be fine. That my nipples won’t become so damaged that I end up with chronic pain like I did with Kira. It’s hard, though. I’m strong, but I don’t want to have to be.

A sibling

A sibling

The two little lions have a sibling… a little brother, who, as a Sagittarius, is symbolised by a centaur. I ummed and aashed about whether this blog would remain dedicated just to the two little lions or include their brother, and well, I’m an inclusive kinda person and I know the girls would want to have stuff about their little bro on here.

Stay tuned for pics and updates.

Griffin Cael, born 3.12.11.

Rainbow connection

Rainbow connection

My secondborn is an interesting child. She is stubborn, melodramatic, comedic, musical, and imaginative. She makes up stories and songs, she is a fearless climbing monkey and very self-assured about what she wants and doesn’t want. She is more introverted than her big sister and prefers people and kids she knows well over meeting new people all the time (although she has no problem chatting to tradies or checkout persons). She loves her friends but feels intensely betrayed if (as kids do) they hurt her, accidentally or not!

She told me last night she wants to be named Rainbowy… because then people won’t laugh at her name. I of course had to choke back my laughter at the idea of calling her “Rainbowy”. We came up with a compromise: Rainbow. This morning I tried calling her and she ignored me (as she usually does) so in a fit of inspired “I’ll try anything” I called out “Rainbow!” and lo and behold she, with a satisfied look on her face, answered me.

Ah. My eccentric child.

The “poo face”.

Drowning animals.

Sleeping off the chocolate.

Purple fairy child lying underneath a cube. I’m not sure why.

Stone circles that are apparently houses.

Yeah, she’s pretty awesome.

Of heartbeats and siblings

Of heartbeats and siblings

Yesterday I had an antenatal appointment and because it was early Kira got to come with us. I’ve been a bit bummed that she’s been missing out as she’s very into the pregnancy and kisses my belly, says hello and goodbye to Pixel and is rather obsessed with learning about how babies grow inside you and birth and all that. I was hoping they would be able to hear the heartbeat and it seems we had some success!

The instrument used is a fetascope… it’s like a stethascope but the head thing means it can be used hands-free. I think that makes it more accurate? Anyway, the girls got to have a go.

I also got to have a listen… not using the head thing obviously! I’m NOT a contortionist. I just used it like a stethascope… and awwww, there it was. Dumdumdumdumdumdum…

It’s nice to reciprocate. Pixel has been hearing us for a while now, and we finally got to hear Pixel!

Self-directed learning

Self-directed learning

Kira’s pet project at the moment is to go up into the “big” class next year. By big, we’re talking ages, not size! I told her in order to do that she’d have to do lots of work to ensure she’s up to speed with stuff. She pulled out a bunch of her old workbooks from last year and got stuck into them. I noticed that they were really too easy for her so in the spirit of being supportive I got her a grade 2 Maths book and a grade 2 English book while I was in finding something easy for Imogen (who had declared she NEEDED a workbook).

So Kira has been working diligently on mainly her English one in the mornings and evenings. She doesn’t do it everyday and I don’t prompt her, she does it when she wants. I’ve been surprised at how she’s stuck at it and how quickly she’s getting through it even though it involves a lot of writing (she seems to be getting over her “writing is BORING” mentality and seeing it as just something she does).

I’m not entirely sure what her motivation is with moving up, and I’m ambivalent about it myself (I can see pros and cons) but I want her to feel supported in her decisions. At this point the plan is for her to “visit” in the classroom to see if she can cope with the different vibe, and if all goes well she’ll be moving up next year.

There are other tentative plans afoot for next year, so stay tuned!

Fairy Princess Party

Fairy Princess Party

*Disclaimer: I’ve chosen not to post too many pics of other people’s kids where I can help it, including my niece (can’t resist bubba niece though!) Mum, yes I do have pics of Sabine!*

My niece is, as so many little girls are, deep in the phase of fairy-princess-pink-everything. So it was hardly a stretch that her 4th birthday party would be themed along these lines. The girls were super excited about the party, and dressed up in their twirly skirts.

Imogen started the day with a spot of croquet. This was after I redirected her from what looked like a killer golf swing towards the glass cabinet full of glass items.

Kira started with some noise.

There was a lot of food. A lot. A lot of sugar. These little cupcakes may look innocent and pretty, but trust me, evil resides within. They tasted damn good though!

The girls all settled down to make pinata boxes. Coz you know, they NEED more lollies.

The frilly, satiny insanity of princess parties.

My mama lives in Townsville, so this was the first chance she’d had to feel Pixel the violent bellybabe moving.

Time for pass the parcel. Thankfully no one cried about not being the winner. This was possibly because everyone else got chocolate. Hard to cry with a mouth full of Freddo.

Kira finally got a chance to hold her baby cousin. Awwww. She’d been hanging out for the chance!

Dressed as Snow White, Kira took a swipe at the poor pink unicorn.

Dressed as Imogen, so did Imogen.

The death of the unicorn. Utter carnage and mayhem ensued. Imogen stood back as the hordes of ravenous children-vultures descended. After scoring perhaps one lolly and sobbing pitifully about it a bunch of other kids kindly shared their overflowing wares. Part of me was like “that’s nice of them” and another part was like “she is gonna go nuuuuuuuts noooooooo!”

It’s hard work, opening chocolate.

Me and my widdle baby niece. She’s so damn cute.


CUTE.

It was cake cutting time. Imogen watched intently. She was so full of sugar (note the lollipop stick) that she decided to not have cake.

She did opt for face painting though.

Present unwrapping chaos began. I’ve blocked that out.

The girls has loads of fun, I rationed out lollies for an entire week (aaaargh) and the adults had fun too. But OMG.

I’ll leave you with a calming image of peace and tranquillity. Thanks Ariel.

Children at Protests

Children at Protests

In reading some of the news articles about the Occupy Melbourne protests I came across this one.

Woman with child slammed.

Most of the news articles I read on the Herald Sun were, unsurprisingly, written with a very conservative slant. This one is no different. In it (if you don’t want to click) the woman, presumably the mother, is chastised for exposing her child to the violence that occurred on the 21st of October during the protests. The focus is all on the woman being at fault, by putting the child in a dangerous situation. I’ve read before the notion that children should not attend protests, not even peaceful ones (and I’m sure there were comments to that effect but I can’t seem to find them).

Quite honestly, I don’t understand this blanket condemnation of the concept of children at protests. The biggest protest I attended was a homebirth rally in Canberra. It was huge and there were children everywhere. In fact, it was a no-brainer that there would be children there: the protest was about childbirth! Many of those children were born at home, and it is their future reproductive choices, as well as our own, that we were fighting for. No one expected that protest to get ugly, and indeed it didn’t. I didn’t take my children as I was flying in from Brisbane but I fully support the people who took their kids. As one friend said, it’s a great way for kids to see democracy in action.

Another friend recently took her kids to protest against the coal seam gas mining that is under consideration for their local area. Again, this is something that will have a huge impact on her childrens’ lives if it goes ahead. Their creek will be contaminated. Should we shelter our kids from these kinds of things or include them? What purpose does it serve to shelter them from the very real possibility that their daily activities might change drastically due to CSG? Isn’t it better to give them some sense that they are participating in community action, so they feel they can DO something?

As for Occupy Melbourne… well I understand that a lot of people view the Occupy protests as just some rabble rousing tactic of the unemployed and lefty students. Scratch a bit deeper and there is a lot more going on. We in Australia have it pretty good at the moment so a lot of middle class and even “working” class people are mystified as to the point of the protests. Yet if you look at the US and the UK, and remember that what happens in the US often trickles down to Australia as politicians focus constantly on the Economy and the financial bottom line, it is worth giving the protestors the benefit of the doubt. The protests are about social, financial and political change. I think about what the future might hold for my children given what is happening around the world, and sometimes I feel panic over what their lives will be like. I imagine the parents taking their children to the Occupy protests feel similarly. They know that we are leaving a legacy to our children that will make their lives incredibly difficult. On so many levels.

Another friend said she was taking her kids to Occupy Sydney after the violent suppression of the Melbourne protest. I told her to stay safe, and her reply was at the first sign of trouble she was out of there. No parent willingly exposes their child to violence. The protestors in Melbourne were completely unaware of the tactics police were going to use. It seems once the suppression began (based on footage I’ve seen) it was very difficult for people to leave without being subjected to violence.

I’ve stayed away from the protests because I have a big pregnant belly that I can’t expect will be respected (and having seen old women manhandled I feel fairly justified in this belief). But pregnant women, mothers and children shouldn’t have to stay home and miss out on the democratic process that is mass protesting because we are afraid of violence to our persons by police. It means our voices are not counted if we cannot obtain babysitters, and we are once again relegated to invisibility. It’s not the fault of the woman in the article that there was violence at the protest. I’m sure she reacted to get the child out of danger as quickly as she could. Of course the child was distressed, most adults were too. Not to minimise the experience of the child, but to point out that the violence was not started by the protestors and was unnecessarily aggressive, and distressing to the majority of the people who were dragged off.

Children are resilient beings. Children around the world are subjected daily to atrocities and tragedies we in our privileged western comfort couldn’t begin to fathom. It’s not ok that this happens, it shouldn’t happen, every child should grow up feeling safe and secure and loved. But the truth is many don’t. The child in the article will have access to support and love and will be able to process his/her experience in a safe environment. It’s awful that the child witnessed that kind of violence. But the answer is not a blanket “people who take children to protests are stupid and negligent”. It’s not that simple. Children are part of society, part of community issues, and are the future of society. They deserve to have some say in this and to participate in the democratic process as much as they are able. It is up to ALL adults to support them in this and to ensure their safety while they are participating. Not to exclude them completely.

Playdough (or how to make playdough when you have hayfever)

Playdough (or how to make playdough when you have hayfever)

 

On Thursday Imogen asked to make playdough but since it was school pickup time I promised we’d make it on Friday. On Friday I woke up with awful hayfever, and the last thing I felt like doing was make playdough. I didn’t feel like doing anything at all! Secretly I hoped she’d forget.

At about 12:30pm she remembered. I was lying on the bed, trying to store up some credit for getting through the afternoon.

“Mama, is it fine we can make playdough?”

Cue sigh. But I promised. I made us lunch then we got stuck into the finer art of making playdough.

Dump all ingredients in saucepan.

“Mama, can I pour the colour in?”

“No dear, you might put too much in.” Glug. Oops. Seems Mama managed to do exactly what she didn’t want Imogen to do. Dark purple anyone?

Mix and mix and don’t stop too often to take photos or your dough will be lumpy. Sigh. While you are off finding the tissues child will take over stirring. You should possibly warn her the saucepan is hot. If you want the photo op of her stirring, anyway.

Lumpy dough that looks black but is actually dark purple, really. Knead and knead and knead, try not to burn yourself. Sneeze lots.

Let child loose on spooky dark playdough. Smile through watery eyes.

“Say playdough!”

Crawl back into bed and try to ignore the sounds coming from the kitchen. Congratulate yourself for being an awesome Mama.

Snakes and snails and black eyes.

Snakes and snails and black eyes.

That’s what little girls are made of?

This morning Kira stacked it big time while she was riding her bike. It was a spectacular effort resulting in her landing face first on her handlebars. She copped one to just under her eye. While she was sobbing in her daddy’s arms Imogen wandered in and cheerfully announced “Look, a snail!”

And indeed, she had a snail on her arm, seemingly happy enough to be out of its shell and looking around. She wanted to show Kira to cheer her up, but, erm, Kira had other things on her mind. And face. So I offered to take a photo of the snail. Imogen thought this was a brilliant idea.

She was obsessed with the snail. Wanted to keep it. We convinced her it would be happier in the garden.

Kira wasn’t so keen on getting a photo taken of her injury but her daddy finally convinced her this afternoon. Poor chook.

And yeah, just for fun… as a storm built this afternoon I thought I saw something moving outside, that looked suspiciously snake-like. We knew we had a tree snake and it looked like the same one. Seems it decided to abandon ship (being its home in the big shrub) and seek refuge in the retaining wall! It managed to get itself into a crack in there!

Who needs sugar and spice?

Birthday 2011

Birthday 2011

Sadly belated birthday post!

This year the girls turned 4 and 7. It started with this card for Imogen.

And culminated on Kira’s birthday day, at their joint party.

The day before was a whirlwind of prep but amazingly for the first time ever I felt… organised! And we had NO cake disasters.

The requested pink unicorn

I’m notorious for showing up late to my own events and my children’s parties but this time we were early. It was a strange feeling, setting up without being frantic!

"Bee" caramel mud cupcakes

Unwrapping requires seriousness

...and frowny effort.

And delight as we show off our spoils.

Kira decided to turn herself into a unicorn with a party hat.

Imogen just wanted a hat on and a cupcake, please.

All the better to fuel the crazy swing face! (I know it’s blurry, but it’s so quintessentially Imogen!)

Kira the rainbow girl.

After food and play it was time for cake.

We have shocking luck with lighting candles, usually, as the August winds stymie all attempts to a) light them and b) keep them lit. But this year…

Lovely beeswax candles

it worked! They lit, and stayed lit. So Imogen had her turn first.

I knew I was pushing my luck by lighting them again, but I like a challenge.

Success!

Kira loves me! Definitely reciprocated.

The gleeful sisters cut the cake.

And then everyone waited for me to carve it into little bits.

Much fun was had by all, even if Imogen was in a bit of a cranky mood (yes, she really was).

Ending with this photo of me and my two little lions awww.