Ani Kathryn Nelson
Born November 7, 2009 at 1:21am
8lbs, 4oz
21 1/4 inches
Proud Daddy holding Ani for the first time.
Mama & Ani a few hours after Ani's birth.
Aria & Ani
November 15, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
37 1/2 Weeks
This is what I look like this week, at 37 1/2 weeks pregnant. However big I look, I guarantee you I feel bigger. I have very regular Braxton-Hicks contractions (sooo not "false" contractions, let me tell you), skin so itchy and raw that I can't sleep, and lots of pressure and soreness in places I won't mention or describe. I am a poster-child for the pregger waddle and move at a rate of speed not unlike that of a turtle, and that's when I'm booking it. God forbid I make the mistake of getting down on the floor; getting up again is a struggle of mammoth proportions. My hands are swollen, my feet are flat. I'm done. Aria's Itsy Bitsy Yoga instructor told me that the mark of readiness for labor is when 30hrs of it starts to sound good. Bring it on, I say. Let's get this party started. Whenever this little lady is ready to make her appearance, I'm happy to have her and the sooner, the better.
You Know You're Very Pregnant When...
Facebook friends and those that read our family blog will have ready many of these already, but I thought I'd post here as well.
You know you're very pregnant when...
...your husband has to help you get your socks and shoes on b/c you can't reach your feet (bring back flip flop weather!).
...the maternity clothes start to get too small in the belly.
...the lady that makes your coffee and that you see at least a couple times a week and has your drink memorized says upon seeing you for the first time this week, "Wow, that baby is getting big."
...people at the local street festival stop in their tracks to say "You look like you were ready to pop yesterday!" and then you have to explain that you in fact have a few more weeks to go.
...people stop making eye contact, instead approaching you with eyes firmly affixed on your massive belly and the greeting, "Hi. Has your baby dropped yet?"
...you lose your pen, look everywhere around you knowing you just had it, then stand up and see it fall out from under your big baby belly. Beware: This same thing can happen with cell phones, small toys and towards the end, the occasional book.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Creative Parenting
My yoga instructor, Carrie, recently told a story about her son. When he was a toddler she was working with him in the room, filling out paperwork and organizing checks - lots of checks. The phone rang and she took 5 steps away from the table, grabbed the phone and took 5 steps back. In that time her son had found the scissors she'd inadvertently left within her son's reach and cut up ALL the checks. I gasped when she told this story and immediately knew my reaction would have been an upset, shocked, "Aria! NO, NO, NO!". I would have grabbed the scissors away, not only frustrated but scared at her use and access to something so potentially dangerous. Carrie, though, chose to look at the situation in a different light - her son had used scissors for the first time and had handled them safely and efficiently. He didn't know that the paper he was cutting up was valuable, only that he'd done something new and different and was proud of it. She allowed him that moment of pride in himself and chose to be proud too.
Her point with this story was that we can all react to the unexpected by getting upset or angry or whatever, or...we can be creative and choose a different way to react. Until recently my creative parenting had been lacking quite a bit. I've been much more geared toward the upset reaction than anything else with the upheavals of late - moving plus being tired and emotional from the pregnancy, and my patience had been wearing very thin. Apart from that, I haven't been as creative with our activities since moving to the new area and have succumbed instead to using TV as entertainment for her and a chance to rest for me. When I came out of the bathroom a few weeks ago to find this, I had the perfect chance to react to the situation creatively.
Alas, even as I thought to myself that this is what Carrie meant when she talked about creative parenting, I cried out in shock and disbelief at what I was seeing; I was not yet in a frame of mind to find that creative reaction within myself. In that moment Aria was so excited to paint and didn't realize the damage done. Conversely, I saw only the damage and not the artist before me. Once the moment passed, though, I saw that I had taken that excitement from her and instead made her feel bad...she apologized over and over that afternoon, breaking my heart a little more each time.
Since that moment I've tried to actively change both my thinking and my actions, not being so concerned with the mess but allowing her to explore new activities and materials. This is a challenge for me. Just today she was using markers for the first time in a long time and loving every minute of it; I sat by, watchful, thinking to myself what a mess they were and how she just got marker on her only good pair of pajamas. Still, I chose not to grab the markers and immediately undress her and try to get the marker out, as the voice within was urging me to do; instead I looked at how much fun she was having, took a deep breath and allowed her that experience and the mess that came with it and I did so in a manner that let the potential stress of that moment go. I'm trying to do this more and more and really, it's so much more fun, even if her wardrobe is needing replaced at a much faster rate.
So, I'm making prograss though there's still more to do. I'm trying to turn off the TV and draw or play or read with her, even when so tired but I need to come up with some new activities for us - break out the paints that stay hidden 95% of the time, but which she absolutely loves, and not be so concerned with the mess, get out of the house more - to the park or swimming. Granted, all of these are more challenging as I get more and more pregnant, but I want to focus on building up the girl in front of me - the love of my life that is so full of life and creativity and curiosity and so desperately wants interaction and new challenges and experiences - while we have this time alone. These moments are not to be wasted. I'll still be able to get ready for the new little one and if all is not done or there's a little extra mess, well, that's OK too.
Her point with this story was that we can all react to the unexpected by getting upset or angry or whatever, or...we can be creative and choose a different way to react. Until recently my creative parenting had been lacking quite a bit. I've been much more geared toward the upset reaction than anything else with the upheavals of late - moving plus being tired and emotional from the pregnancy, and my patience had been wearing very thin. Apart from that, I haven't been as creative with our activities since moving to the new area and have succumbed instead to using TV as entertainment for her and a chance to rest for me. When I came out of the bathroom a few weeks ago to find this, I had the perfect chance to react to the situation creatively.
Alas, even as I thought to myself that this is what Carrie meant when she talked about creative parenting, I cried out in shock and disbelief at what I was seeing; I was not yet in a frame of mind to find that creative reaction within myself. In that moment Aria was so excited to paint and didn't realize the damage done. Conversely, I saw only the damage and not the artist before me. Once the moment passed, though, I saw that I had taken that excitement from her and instead made her feel bad...she apologized over and over that afternoon, breaking my heart a little more each time.Since that moment I've tried to actively change both my thinking and my actions, not being so concerned with the mess but allowing her to explore new activities and materials. This is a challenge for me. Just today she was using markers for the first time in a long time and loving every minute of it; I sat by, watchful, thinking to myself what a mess they were and how she just got marker on her only good pair of pajamas. Still, I chose not to grab the markers and immediately undress her and try to get the marker out, as the voice within was urging me to do; instead I looked at how much fun she was having, took a deep breath and allowed her that experience and the mess that came with it and I did so in a manner that let the potential stress of that moment go. I'm trying to do this more and more and really, it's so much more fun, even if her wardrobe is needing replaced at a much faster rate.
So, I'm making prograss though there's still more to do. I'm trying to turn off the TV and draw or play or read with her, even when so tired but I need to come up with some new activities for us - break out the paints that stay hidden 95% of the time, but which she absolutely loves, and not be so concerned with the mess, get out of the house more - to the park or swimming. Granted, all of these are more challenging as I get more and more pregnant, but I want to focus on building up the girl in front of me - the love of my life that is so full of life and creativity and curiosity and so desperately wants interaction and new challenges and experiences - while we have this time alone. These moments are not to be wasted. I'll still be able to get ready for the new little one and if all is not done or there's a little extra mess, well, that's OK too.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
35 Weeks: Grrr.
My belly is huge. I've gained a measly 9lbs since the start of this pregnancy (20-25lbs is average for most pregnant women) yet what has developed in my belly is nothing short of gargantuan. Something about this baby's positioning (right in front and lowish) makes me look like I have a large pumpkin under my shirt. Blue ribbon at the state fair kind of pumpkin. And I've got 5 weeks to go.
My size, waddle and the not-so-occasional grimace (LOTS of Braxton-Hicks this time) must make me quite a sight when walking down the street. This week there has been a noticeable shift in the way strangers approach me, with eyes now firmly affixed to my belly. Making eye contact is a struggle, like it's almost painful to rip their eyes from the pumpkin below and look at my face. (Is this what having big boobs is like?) People on the street crane their necks to see around the stroller and stare from blocks away, often running into eachother and even the occasional building. One guy broke his nose, so powerful was the concentration on my stomach - OK, not really, but the staring is real and one woman really did stare from across the street and crane her neck around the stroller as she approached me, never looking away from my baby belly. "The watchers" all have looks of slight fear in their eyes, like I'm going to give birth right there and ask them to help. It's kinda funny what one's pregnancy can do to others.
...Then again, sometimes it's not so funny. In addition to the staring, the reduction in boundaries has increased by leaps and bounds as well - for others, not for me so much. No longer do I get a "Hi. How are you?" when entering a store or meeting someone for the first time. Now it's "Hi. Has your baby dropped yet?" From friends and fellow mamas OK, but from the lady taking my lunch order, really?!?
People also love to touch the pregnant belly. I understand the appeal, sort of, though I've never been one to do so myself. Just because it sticks out doesn't mean it's public property (if that's the rule then...) and I would never go up to some stranger or even a friend or family member and presume they are fine with me touching them. I like my personal space and try to respect others' as well. Plus, this is an intimate touch: I work hard every day to protect and nourish this baby growing within; I'm intimately connected to this life and growing belly. It's not like my arm, there is something very special about this spot on my body and having someone come up and touch it without my permission or invitation feels like someone coming up and grabbing my boob. It's invasive and creepy and triggers my mother-bear instincts in such a way that it is all I can do not to throw that person to the other side of the room. And it doesn't really matter if I know the person or not. A hormone-driven overreaction? Perhaps. But it's my body and my baby and I have a right and an obligation to protect them both. So to the belly touchers out there: Keep your hands to yourself please. If I want you to touch me I will invite you to do so.
My size, waddle and the not-so-occasional grimace (LOTS of Braxton-Hicks this time) must make me quite a sight when walking down the street. This week there has been a noticeable shift in the way strangers approach me, with eyes now firmly affixed to my belly. Making eye contact is a struggle, like it's almost painful to rip their eyes from the pumpkin below and look at my face. (Is this what having big boobs is like?) People on the street crane their necks to see around the stroller and stare from blocks away, often running into eachother and even the occasional building. One guy broke his nose, so powerful was the concentration on my stomach - OK, not really, but the staring is real and one woman really did stare from across the street and crane her neck around the stroller as she approached me, never looking away from my baby belly. "The watchers" all have looks of slight fear in their eyes, like I'm going to give birth right there and ask them to help. It's kinda funny what one's pregnancy can do to others.
...Then again, sometimes it's not so funny. In addition to the staring, the reduction in boundaries has increased by leaps and bounds as well - for others, not for me so much. No longer do I get a "Hi. How are you?" when entering a store or meeting someone for the first time. Now it's "Hi. Has your baby dropped yet?" From friends and fellow mamas OK, but from the lady taking my lunch order, really?!?
People also love to touch the pregnant belly. I understand the appeal, sort of, though I've never been one to do so myself. Just because it sticks out doesn't mean it's public property (if that's the rule then...) and I would never go up to some stranger or even a friend or family member and presume they are fine with me touching them. I like my personal space and try to respect others' as well. Plus, this is an intimate touch: I work hard every day to protect and nourish this baby growing within; I'm intimately connected to this life and growing belly. It's not like my arm, there is something very special about this spot on my body and having someone come up and touch it without my permission or invitation feels like someone coming up and grabbing my boob. It's invasive and creepy and triggers my mother-bear instincts in such a way that it is all I can do not to throw that person to the other side of the room. And it doesn't really matter if I know the person or not. A hormone-driven overreaction? Perhaps. But it's my body and my baby and I have a right and an obligation to protect them both. So to the belly touchers out there: Keep your hands to yourself please. If I want you to touch me I will invite you to do so.
Friday, August 07, 2009
Nursing & Weaning a Toddler
It's been about 6 weeks since Aria became fully weaned. It happened suddenly, sort of. My milk had been drying up for a few weeks (since about 4-5 months pregnant) but Aria wasn't ready to stop completely and I didn't mind her continuing to try the couple times a day she really wanted to. But one day the milk was just gone - completely and totally - and it became excruciating to let her even try to nurse for a few moments. The timing sucked. We were in the process of moving and Aria was sick - not just the sniffles but a ravaging fever that lasted the better part of a week and could not be medically explained, hovering in the low hundreds during the day but spiking at night, once reaching close to 105. She was miserable and in need of the closeness and comfort and fluids that nursing provides; I felt horrible that I so suddenly could not give her what she needed at a time she most needed it. She awoke crying out for me and asking "Why not?!?" when I tried to explain that there was no more milk and that it hurt Mommy to try to get it. I didn't have a good explanation but could only cuddle and love on her as much as possible.
Once moved in and a bit more settled, Aria quickly stopped asking to nurse. Only recently - in the last couple of weeks - did she ask a few times, just upon waking. I was surprised as it seemed out of the blue, but it turns out she has a molar coming in that is causing her pain on and off. On the worst days she wants to nurse and can still be quite emphatic about it. I keep explaining that there is no milk, that it is all gone and try to distract her with cuddles. Many times the extra cuddles settle her, though sometimes they don't. During these more challenging moments I try to distract her with another idea - breakfast, a book, etc - and overall the request passes quickly.
Weaning has been a challenging process for the both of us. Aria was genuinely saddened by this loss, as was I. Nursing afforded us a closeness that does not come any other way. When she was sick, which she has been a lot, my milk provided her with the only nourishment she could tolerate. However, it was not just a source of nourishment but also of comfort and security. When no other thing would settle her down, nursing would. After a fall or in the midst of a tantrum, nursing was the miracle cure. Aria is an extremely active and independent child; her requests to nurse came at moments of shyness or feeling overwhelmed or tired or in the wee hours of the morning when needing the reassurance I was nearby. Though I wanted to wean her before the arrival of the new baby, I did not envision the end to come so quickly or at such a traumatic moment. I would have rather done it more gently and gradually, giving her time to get through the move and certainly the illness.
Many family and friends did not understand my decision to nurse my older child. It is not what we do here in the US, despite recommendations from the WHO and other health organizations. To Americans, nursing long-term is neither convenient nor the norm and so it makes us uncomfortable. When a child becomes old enough to mimic nursing, as mine has done frequently, the sight brings about nervous laughter and raised eyebrows. Nursing a toddler in public is much more scandalous. But what about the health, security and comfort of that child? Isn't that more important than convenience and uptight viewpoints? There was a time - around 18 months - that I started to get restless in my nursing of Aria; at that point support was hard to find and my girl's frequent nighttime nursing sessions were frustrating at times. But my attempts to wean were met with such torment that I knew it was best to continue; yes, she's a determined child, but this was not manipulation, this was real need for connection and comfort. I do not question my decision to continue at all, only wish that it was a more common one amongst those I know - not because they have made a wrong decision, but because every mom wants the camaraderie of a shared experience and the support of loved ones.
In the days to come I wonder now about how Aria will feel about the new baby nursing. The subject came up for the first time a few days ago while reading a toddler-focused book on pregnancy and adding a new baby to the family. Explaining that the new baby will get to nurse but that Aria could not was difficult and I felt at a loss for an adequate explanation. Apparently she did too, as she was not thrilled with this idea. That and another discussion on sharing with the new baby led to a complete toddler meltdown. Subsequent readings of the same book - which she loves and requests often - have been more successful, though, with only the occasional nursing question. She rests her hand on my belly while reading and asks if her baby sister is in Mommy's belly. I'm hoping that moments and discussions like this, though sometimes hard at first, are slowly preparing her for her new sister. She knows she's coming and though confused about how the appearance will occur (often looking out the window or asking if a noise she heard is her baby sister coming), talks about it often. Sometimes she's excited, sometimes she's nervous and not ready. Thankfully, we have some time. Time for me to enjoy being just Aria's mommy, time for Aria to enjoy being an only child. Our worlds will change soon enough. When that happens it will be amazing and wonderful in many ways, but we will not be able to get back these moments alone with our first beautiful girl. So, I can wait a bit longer to meet this new little one, because what I have in front of me is just spectacular.
Once moved in and a bit more settled, Aria quickly stopped asking to nurse. Only recently - in the last couple of weeks - did she ask a few times, just upon waking. I was surprised as it seemed out of the blue, but it turns out she has a molar coming in that is causing her pain on and off. On the worst days she wants to nurse and can still be quite emphatic about it. I keep explaining that there is no milk, that it is all gone and try to distract her with cuddles. Many times the extra cuddles settle her, though sometimes they don't. During these more challenging moments I try to distract her with another idea - breakfast, a book, etc - and overall the request passes quickly.
Weaning has been a challenging process for the both of us. Aria was genuinely saddened by this loss, as was I. Nursing afforded us a closeness that does not come any other way. When she was sick, which she has been a lot, my milk provided her with the only nourishment she could tolerate. However, it was not just a source of nourishment but also of comfort and security. When no other thing would settle her down, nursing would. After a fall or in the midst of a tantrum, nursing was the miracle cure. Aria is an extremely active and independent child; her requests to nurse came at moments of shyness or feeling overwhelmed or tired or in the wee hours of the morning when needing the reassurance I was nearby. Though I wanted to wean her before the arrival of the new baby, I did not envision the end to come so quickly or at such a traumatic moment. I would have rather done it more gently and gradually, giving her time to get through the move and certainly the illness.
Many family and friends did not understand my decision to nurse my older child. It is not what we do here in the US, despite recommendations from the WHO and other health organizations. To Americans, nursing long-term is neither convenient nor the norm and so it makes us uncomfortable. When a child becomes old enough to mimic nursing, as mine has done frequently, the sight brings about nervous laughter and raised eyebrows. Nursing a toddler in public is much more scandalous. But what about the health, security and comfort of that child? Isn't that more important than convenience and uptight viewpoints? There was a time - around 18 months - that I started to get restless in my nursing of Aria; at that point support was hard to find and my girl's frequent nighttime nursing sessions were frustrating at times. But my attempts to wean were met with such torment that I knew it was best to continue; yes, she's a determined child, but this was not manipulation, this was real need for connection and comfort. I do not question my decision to continue at all, only wish that it was a more common one amongst those I know - not because they have made a wrong decision, but because every mom wants the camaraderie of a shared experience and the support of loved ones.
In the days to come I wonder now about how Aria will feel about the new baby nursing. The subject came up for the first time a few days ago while reading a toddler-focused book on pregnancy and adding a new baby to the family. Explaining that the new baby will get to nurse but that Aria could not was difficult and I felt at a loss for an adequate explanation. Apparently she did too, as she was not thrilled with this idea. That and another discussion on sharing with the new baby led to a complete toddler meltdown. Subsequent readings of the same book - which she loves and requests often - have been more successful, though, with only the occasional nursing question. She rests her hand on my belly while reading and asks if her baby sister is in Mommy's belly. I'm hoping that moments and discussions like this, though sometimes hard at first, are slowly preparing her for her new sister. She knows she's coming and though confused about how the appearance will occur (often looking out the window or asking if a noise she heard is her baby sister coming), talks about it often. Sometimes she's excited, sometimes she's nervous and not ready. Thankfully, we have some time. Time for me to enjoy being just Aria's mommy, time for Aria to enjoy being an only child. Our worlds will change soon enough. When that happens it will be amazing and wonderful in many ways, but we will not be able to get back these moments alone with our first beautiful girl. So, I can wait a bit longer to meet this new little one, because what I have in front of me is just spectacular.
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