tips for newborn stage

We had three new Choice Moms within a week here in Minnesota recently -- all moms to newborn girls -- and the common question came up: any tips for dealing with the exhaustion and logistics in these early days, especially if there aren't many family members around to help? The local Choice Moms responded with great advice:

From Debbie, mother of an 11-year-old daughter:
1. My big recommendation — get out of the house. Plan to meet at the mall at 7 in the morning and go mallwalking.

2. Don't worry about cleaning your house. In the big scheme of things, food and clothing comes before cleanliness. If you vacuum, do dishes and clean the bathroom every now and then that is good. Forget about dust, children's toys, scrubbing floors, yard work. Or hire a cleaning lady — we deserve it.

3. Sometimes it is nice to just have someone over to talk to or to hold the baby while you try to get some things done. Don't be afraid to ask. Or work out deals with the other new moms. Meet at each others houses while one does laundry, or better yet meet at Target.

4. AND, don't forget take naps when she does. Most of the things you think you want to do can wait and it is easier to be a good Mom when you are rested. You will need lots of sleep for a while.

From Joyce, mother of an 8-year-old daughter:

I remember being so scared to leave the hospital. I could not believe they were letting me take this baby home. I had no idea what I was doing! Emma's first bath was comical and I'm lucky I did not break her neck the way it flopped around.

5. Take one day at a time and make meals, etc. very simple. Get as much sleep as you can. Even ask someone to come over and watch her so that you can sleep.

6. When they are tiny babies, you can get bored because they sleep so much. Like Debbie suggested, make sure you get out and about. I know the Burnsville Center has an organized Stretch and Stroll event. Perhaps other malls do too.

7. Grocery delivery comes in very handy, when you need it. Simons Delivers is now Coburns Delivers, plus Lunds & Byerly's also deliver (or you can pick up through their drive through). You can get diapers and everything. It is expensive, but sometimes, especially in the winter, you need it.

From Susan, mother of a 6-month-0ld son:

First, congratulations! What an amazing adventure you have just begun. Regarding your fears of doing it all alone without family — I am in the very same situation and I know exactly how you feel.

8. As hard as it is, accept whatever help your friends offer. I still struggle with accepting help, but I am always glad when I do. Very early on, when I was ridiculously sleep-deprived, I had a friend come over occasionally for an hour or two so I could sleep. They would watch the baby, or take out the trash for me, or do the dishes. They also brought me food. I had a hard time eating much during my maternity leave, because I only had one hand free most of the time, so I greatly appreciated it whenever someone brought me food.

9. The other thing I did was hire a post-partum doula who came over 1-2x a week from 10p.m -6 a.m. I still got up to nurse my son, but she would take him in between feedings and I was able to catch up on a little sleep. She also folded my laundry, which was great. It was expensive, but again, a life-saver. Try this website for finding a post-partum doula. They can come at night or during the day for a few hours. I learned a lot from my doula and she helped me through a few of the early "milestones," like giving him his first bath.

Feeling alone, and tired, as a new single mom

New Choice Mom Jo, 36, wrote when her daughter was 11 weeks old. Her daughter was conceived accidentally (failed contraception), shortly before her relationship ended, and she opted to raise her child alone. "She is beautiful, a joy, but I am really struggling with being a single parent. I do have a support network of family and friends but there's only a limited amount others can do. What I really miss is the loving arms of a partner telling me that everything's gonna be alright and I'm loved. I just wondered if any of you other moms have felt similarly when the reality hit."

As I responded:
Welcome to the journey! For me, the newborn year was definitely hardest. While there were great joys, and help for the first few months, there also was great fatigue and not knowing what I was doing...being afraid she would break if I did something wrong.

And then, with my second, I knew what I was doing, that he wouldn't break easily, but he didn't let me sleep through the night for an entire year, which was godawful. (He retrained me though; now I seem able to exist on six hours of sleep.)

I'm also not a baby person. But it did get much easier for me, with both of my kids, as they became more able to sit, babble, interact.

And even though they are now 9 and 4, I do still sometimes wish I had arms to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. Not usually related to parenting, but other life stresses.

As Kali wrote:
Gosh, your email really touched me. Consider this a cyber-hug.

Being a Choice Mom is really hard sometimes!! When people have asked me how I have found motherhood, I tell them that is is more than I ever imagined. I imagined that it would be REALLY REALLY hard, and it is so much harder. And I imagined that it would be REALLY REALLY wonderful, and it is so much more wonderful, too.

My daughter is 18 months, and I still have moments, sometimes days, when I really wish I had a husband to lean on for love and support.

It's hard to think logically when you are so emotional, but you are still post-partum and subject to all of the hormonal stuff that goes with it. Factor in the lack of sleep and general stress of trying to figure out this new little person who is dependent on you for EVERYTHING and it's natural to feel overwhelmed.

I am not sure the nature of your support system. But if there is something you really need, please let them know. I have found that people tend to do what they think they should, and sometimes they just don't know what you really need. So if you need a couple hours sleep, let them know that you need to hand off your daughter the second she is done eating and then go to bed. Or that you need them to cook dinner or run a load of laundry. Or give her bath or change her diaper or whatever. There are lots of things people can do for you or your daughter to give you a chance to catch your breath.

I promise it does get easier in the sense that you will start to trust your instincts around your daughter. There will absolutely be times when what has been working will suddenly stop, but you WILL figure it out again. And you will get better and better at doing so.

We're here if you need us.

After many more responses, Jo replied:
Oh thank you all SO much for your warm and candid replies. It helps so much to know that other women have been here and got through it. Thanks for your suggestions. I am already doing some of them. I am co-sleeping -- she sleeps so much better between feeds in with me.

To be honest, I think there is some conspiracy of silence about the sheer emotional exhaustion and toughness of the early days of motherhood. When I have spoken to some of my other friends who I met in childbirth preparation classes, although they are all married they feel very similarly -- and they HAVE got someone walking thru the door to give them a hug etc.

As well as the sheer fatigue and overwhelming busyness of caring for a newborn, I think the other thing I'm doing is grieving for the dream, or whatever the chapter in Mikki's book is called. The dream of the happy family unit with a wonderful guy who loves me and our baby.

Creating a support network

submitted by Lara

It seems that the most common question I've gotten both from health professionals and others is "what kind of support system do you have?" or "you must have a huge support system to being doing so well with twins." My answer is always I have enough. And I have had enough for the most part. I've had a day or two where a break or an extra set of hands would have made me a happier and more productive mommy but I make do.

I was asked at a smc local group recently "what do you do if you don't have a lot of family or support around?" I answered "you create your support system one person at a time."

My family is as supportive as they can be but the closest family member lives 2+ hours away. I had a handful of people that I knew I could rely on if I needed to. Some of them I rely heavily on and some not at all. It depends on where I'm at on any given day or week. It also depends on how comfortable I am with them and my children. Since the babies have been born I've continued to increase my support network. I've joined the local single mothers by choice group, the mother of twins club and a local mom's group. I go on play dates (not that they play yet but they will soon) and I go to a breastfeeding support group. I've met wonderful women who make me feel good about myself and my parenting skills. I've found that most mom's who are in relationships have the same feelings that I have about motherhood. We are all the same, some just have a partner.

So just like I chose to have a child(ren) on my own, I chose to have a developing support group. There can never be too many people loving and supporting me and my boy's.

Newborn needs

A group of Choice Moms on the discussion board have been offering tips on must-have items for the newborn months. One woman is compiling the list and we will make it available soon on the ChoiceMoms.org website in the BECOMING section.

But this particular post seemed especially apt, submitted by J Moran:

required
1) two arms
2) two breasts
nice to have:
3) a boppy
4) a "carrier" (sling or other)
5) lots of "onesies"
extra:
5) a mini pack n play (takes up less space and holds your child until
they are at least 1 maybe 2)

that's about it, really. all they need is you!

Week 10: Being a new mom

submitted by Cathi

Well, I started back to work yesterday, and if I thought I was tired
BEFORE, man, it's going to be a tough week! Err, make that, tough
year.

Jenny is now 2 ½ months old and sleeping in longer chunks which makes
it a little easier, but it's still really tough not to have someone
to hand her over to. I guess I thought she'd be magically sleeping
through the night by now. My friends have really stepped up to help
out, and try to take turns keeping her for a night every other week
or so, which lets me get at least one full night's sleep here and
there. It makes a HUGE difference. I still cry a lot, but I think
it's from the sleep deprivation more than any depression, since I
generally feel pretty good about stuff despite the crushing
responsibility that I'm reminded of every time I look at her.

Generally I'm still shocked that she's mine – I don't know when you
adjust to the fact that this child is yours, but I still feel
sometimes like I'm babysitting or wonder where she came from. I
definitely miss the little things I took for granted (like being able
to hop out of the car to run in for something quick, like a gas
station Coke Icee!) and have resigned myself to eating all my meals
lukewarm for another year or so, but I don't regret my decision.
Don't get me wrong, I come close! It's way harder than I thought it
would be. I question every choice I make, second-guess myself
constantly, and worry about the craziest stuff. But I'm very lucky,
she's a calm and quiet baby, and very happy. Being able to work from
home is a gift, and I lucked out with the nanny (a young single mom
who charges me less because she brings her baby with her, who is 2
weeks older than Jenny).

My thoughts and wishes are with everyone still going through the
agony of trying and waiting and all the frustration and hope that
entails. ENJOY YOUR SLEEP. Go to a movie alone. Savor a hot meal that
isn't crackers dipped in peanut butter because you don't even have
time or energy to spread it. Come babysit for me :-). Realize that
some of us who have been successful are terrified constantly, wracked
with guilt, overwhelmed with the pressure of motherhood, and jealous
of you for the lives we once had. My fingers are crossed for you all
to experience this wonderful misery as well!

And please don't let me scare you, I just want to be very honest in
case there are people out there who have a less-than-realistic notion
of how this works out. No matter how many times people told me, 'It
will change your life', I apparently didn't believe them! I think
having more time off would help, because by then Baby should be
sleeping more. I would still suggest having some help at the beginning -
my mom was here for the first three weeks and I don't know that I
could have done it without her (I definitely wouldn't have bathed,
eaten, done laundry or napped ever, that's for sure).

Of course it's not horrible, but it's not easy. And if you see the
pictures, you can understand the reward. I would still do it all over
again in a heartbeat. As I type this now I've got a soft little snoozing head
resting on my chest because she had to get her 2-month shots this
morning (so traumatic for me! I burst into tears!) and she needs a
little extra mama snuggle time. My heart explodes when I look down at
her and I can't resist kissing the tip of her little button nose.
Need I say more?

for more from this new mom and her Jellybean, see her blogspot.

10 Ways I Know I'm a Mom

from Cathi

1. I can eat a meal with one hand and a baby’s butt 5 inches from my face. With a full diaper. (The baby, not me.) Although I wish it was politically correct to wear Depends all the time, since I never have time to go to the bathroom, or I pee when I sneeze. And yes, you learn to pee while holding a baby.

2. I watch the baby instead of whatever is on the TV, and it’s much more entertaining, even if she’s just napping.

3. I wake up in the middle of the night out of a dead sleep and look at the clock blearily, wondering, ‘Did I remember to change her after I fed her last time? Where are we in the feed/burp/diaper/sleep cycle?’ And then lay awake despite my exhaustion until I have comforted myself that yes, she’s still breathing. Every single night.

4. Guilt comes in so many more varieties and flavors than I previously thought.

5. One thing that has totally blindsided me is the overwhelming protectiveness. I am now afraid of everything. Once a fearless person, I am now terrified of robbers, falling down the stairs, carjackers, the first day of kindergarten, kidnappers, germs, bad drivers, the nanny quitting before she’s started, making mistakes, leukemia, and over/under-feeding. Not necessarily in that order and not a complete list. I even have taken the time to consider how I would maneuver in case I was behind a truck on the highway and suddenly an object came through my windshield. How could I take the blow so it would avoid the baby?

6. I sometimes look at my child and wonder in a very abstract way whose she is.

7. I cry every single day. Sometimes because I’m so damn happy and lucky. Sometimes because I am angry and hurt and sad and bitter about her donor. Sometimes because time is falling through my fingers and I’m too sleep-deprived and overwhelmed to enjoy these fleeting moments despite every single well-intentioned stranger telling me to do just that. And sometimes I’m just a tired cranky pants and, like a baby, need to unwind. See, I’m crying right now. Hormones blow.

8. I take a freakish delight in scaring non-moms with my labor horror story.

9. So far today I have picked boogers out of someone else’s nose, washed poo down my garbage disposal (long story), cleaned a c-section incision, had an involved conversation with a doctor about lochia, inquired about someone else’s child’s poo, and put a pacifier that had fallen on the optometrist’s floor in my mouth to ‘clean’ it.

10. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. But, uh, I’d skip that back labor part if I could. And the grotesquely swollen feet. And I’d make it okay to drink while pregnant, since I’m making wishes here. And I’d take all nine months off work and just sleep. And…

My first month as a Mom

from Sarah, who noted that she was able to write only because her mother was around to hold her one-month-old son

I had been so focused on the trying to become a mom that actually becoming a Mom has blown me away! All in a good way of course... but nothing could prepare me for those first few nights in the hospital by myself and this little face with these huge eyes staring out at me. I felt like everyone assumed I knew what to do...being one of those "older" new moms.

I have been around my seven nieces and nephews, but nothing quite prepares you for your own infant. And really, as a Choice Mom, he is all yours. Family are helpful, friends provide suggestions, but ultimately it all falls on my shoulders.

Luckily for me I have big shoulders... as does my son, as he arrived via c-section because his shoulders got stuck.

I was not prepared for a c-section recovery. But my own mom and her friends were all ready. The ladies looked after me so well as all I could manage to do was breastfeed, eat enough food, and drink enough water to breastfeed some more.

The first four weeks have been completely soaked up by my son, who happens to be an amazing baby. I do, however, jump with every squeak, grunt, sneeze and coo. I am starting to realize I don't have to pick him up with every sound, and that I can make dinner when he is awake (slings are a Choice Mom's best friend).

I can't remember Me before my son, but all I can say is every decision, choice or turn in my life has somehow led me to this last month and welcoming him in my life.

Got to run now... as someone is hungry AGAIN! :)

Grumpy, Sleepy, and Dopey

(submitted by one of my favorite Choice Mom bloggers, Cathi):

Now that I’m getting really close to D-Day (supposedly less than six weeks, which is just totally unimaginable after a lifetime of waiting), I am finding myself more and more irritable rather than excited. I’ve heard that there are women out there who just love being pregnant, that they glow and bond and gain three pounds and have amazing hair. I am not one of those women.

I’ve gained 147 pounds. I don’t sleep EVER so I always have bags under my eyes and a slightly hysterical conversational tone. The baby is a crazy person who seethes with resentment already and takes it out on me through well-placed and ill-timed kicks. And I wobble like a Weeble. Oh, and my hair is dull and lank, to add insult to injury.

I’m used to the Big Three questions by now: ‘Are you having a baby?’ (I like to reply, ‘No, I’ve just really let myself go’ and watch people squirm); ‘When are you due?’ (often followed by the implied man-are-you-ever-fat, ‘Are you sure you’re only having one?’); and the one-two punch, ‘Do you know what you’re having/What’s her name?’

It’s not as fun as when I was in the second trimester and less likely to have my own gravitational pull. Now people say things like, ‘Oooooh, I don’t think you’re going to make it to your due date!’, and look me up and down as if hoping to catch me disgracing myself by having my water break right then and there, proving them right.

Strangers still get extremely hostile when I refuse to tell them the baby’s potential name. I know I’m right in not telling, since people just can’t help from reacting in a terrible way no matter what the name is. There is always a Madeline who picked her nose or a Laura who stole your Twinkie. My best friend almost stormed out of the house after working me over for hours, but I held fast.

What really grinds my gears is that people keep telling me to get rest while I can, because I won’t sleep again until the baby has bought her first home. Fat chance. Literally. I’ve always been a tosser-and-turner, and now I can’t get comfortable without an elaborate truss of ropes and pulleys and counter-levers. Plus I have the pregnancy sinus thing, so wish I could sleep in a different room than myself. And I’m a natural born worrier, so I lie awake thinking about work and money and childcare and how to make the ammonia under the sink less delicious-looking. Without another warm body to share responsibility or dump my stress on, I internalize it all. This exacerbates the constant heartburn, so I get up to pop a Tums. Then, since I’m up, I might as well pee. And by then I’m wide awake, so maybe I better make some enchiladas to put in the freezer for after the baby arrives. And that’s how I find myself, standing in the kitchen in my underwear at 2 am, hanging decorative copper bowls.

My social activities outside of the constant nesting are decreasing. My friends won’t go to restaurants or movies or strip clubs with me anymore because I usually at some point loudly say, ‘Ow, my vagina!’, which is considered surprisingly inappropriate no matter where you are.

I’m used to the beatings the baby gives me up around the rib area, but the pelvic region pain is still relatively new, and my brain has wisely blocked out the idea that the baby is eventually going to make an uncomfortable journey through that previously closed-to-tourists region. Unfortunately, my brain has also blocked out almost everything I need to remember for work, basic household routine and maintenance, and heavy machinery operation.

I’m constantly distracted by the rippling of my stomach and the inevitable progression of the protrusion of my navel. Pregnancy brain blows. I have to write down every little thought I have, and then later stare at my lists in frustration because ‘get shorter thack yon nutes’ seems like a weird to-do item, and I don’t even know where I can find nutes.

Six weeks is going to be here before I know it, way before I’m ready for it, and yet every single minute of every day (and night) is an eternity until I can see her and hold her and smell her. And love her even more than I do now, if that’s possible, in spite of the burden that she already is.

Finding Community

In recent weeks I've been reminded deeply of the very strong power that community can provide, and wanted to use the emotions of the moment to reiterate to Choice Moms the value of extending your networks as head of a household. Including the sometimes isolating time at home with a newborn.

My mother's father died when she was 9, and her brother was 6. My grandmother was a pretty woman who had no particular ambitions other than to raise her family, but she sent her kids to relatives for a year, went through cosmetology school in the big city, and opened up her own beauty shop in their small hometown until after her kids were grown. She had loyal customers, who undoubtedly also understood how hard she was working to keep things together for her kids. She purposely decided not to remarry until her kids were grown.

More than 60 years later, earlier this year, my mom's 6-foot-1 brother had a dizzy spell, fell in his bathroom, broke his neck, and became a quadriplegic. He spent a month in ICU, fighting off pneumonia and other things, before being moved elsewhere for therapy. The medical bills are, of course, huge, and he is not a wealthy man.

Former neighbors helped the three kids launch a spaghetti dinner and $1-per-ticket raffle fundraiser. Dozens of people offered wonderful donations for the raffle, including new iPods and digital camera. An estimated 300 people showed up on a Saturday afternoon to buy a $10 plate of spaghetti (one man paid $200 for his), with the food and hall donated by two of my uncle's American Legion buddies. In all, the afternoon raised $11,000.

My uncle is not a "special" man. He has always been a loyal dad, who tried to make ends meet in simple ways. He loves to talk, enjoyed his time at the American Legion, and continued to work past retirement age, ironically, driving disabled people in a van. He tried to visit his mother every Sunday in the nursing home.

My uncle was vaulted into a special place in his community once he and his family needed support. Attendees at the fundraiser included a grizzled man from the Legion who said he missed seeing my uncle at the bar, a woman who had met him briefly in conversation shortly before his fall and marveled at how open and friendly he was, the grandson of a long-time friend, members of their church, and so many more.

Finding community, who will freely offer support when we need it, can be found in the simplest of ways. But we have to be out of the house, often apart from our parental role, in order to be found and to find.

Some of that same extended network was at work a few weeks later for the family, when my 96-year-old grandmother died. Although all of her many cousins, her four sisters, and all but one of her friends had died, it was the next generation that stood together for the family at the burial site in her hometown, decades after she and my mother (and my uncle) had left. My grandmother had maintained contact with families that my mother had barely known when she was growing up. And it was those families that stood with her at the cemetery to help her say goodbye.

As I wrote in the "Choosing Single Motherhood" book several years ago, I had become isolated in my professional life in New York City. It's not until I shook off the work cloak a bit after my daughter was born that I reprioritized, relocated, and reinvested in a community life that now includes the Unitarian Universalist church, school parents, Choice Moms, old high school friends, and even new families.

I still have a long way to go to feel as secure in my community as I'd like -- to feel reassured that if something even closer to home happened, my kids would have the support and connections they need. But it's something I will always keep my eyes open for, especially now that I've been reminded of how vital it is to be surprised and touched by the kindness of others.

Mikki

To come:

stress, isolation, building support networks, chat room for mothers of newborns, dealing with twins, early money issues, estate planning directory, telling the story, emergency plans, logistics tips, illness, finding childcare, travel