Still Waiting

Today is my last day of work before I go on leave. That’s probably a good thing, because my presence seems to be making my co-workers nervous. Some have expressed surprise that I am still in the office, but it’s not like my job is exactly strenuous. The only painful thing about it is getting up early.

I feel very preoccupied with upcoming events. I wonder what my labor will be like. I wonder what my boy will look like. I hope so so much that he is healthy and that things go smoothly. I am not afraid of labor, but I would like to get it behind me. I’m anxious about whether breastfeeding will be as much of a struggle for me as it was with the squeaker. I worry about how the squeaker will handle a night without mama – I have always been beside him at night. And of course, I want to hold my baby.

Also, it’s hard not to feel a little bittersweet about the big change in store for the squeaker. His life will change dramatically in the next week or so. It will never be quite the same for him. I believe that on balance, having a sibling is well worth having to share parental attention. In fact, I think having to share parental attention is itself a positive thing. But I know it will be a painful transition for him in many ways, and because he is my sweet boy, I ache a little for him.

I’m hoping that when I leave work today, my body will say, “OK, now it’s time!!” After all, that’s what it seemed to do before – I worked my full day, went home, had dinner, and had the squeaker later that same night. It worked out well, though I can’t say that I wouldn’t enjoy a good night’s sleep first!

Time will tell.

Hooray for Skepticism

I’ve been thinking a lot about the allergy issue lately. It was over a year ago that we had that awful day at the allergist’s office – we went in to see if anything could be done about the squeaker’s eczema, and we left with a prescription for an epi-pen and informational sheets on all the various permutations of ingredient names for wheat, soy, milk, tree nuts, peanuts, sesame seed, and seafood. I remember feeling shaken to the core; how would we ever adjust to living without any of these things? How vulnerable was my baby to them? How had food suddenly become the Enemy, when my kid seemed happy and healthy and sturdy?

We panicked. We frantically bought rice flour to make our own bread, and we threw out or donated lots of food. We read and re-read labels. At night, I would stare at the ceiling and think about trying to stab my baby boy with that epi-pen. We stopped going to restaurants. We read about how kids with peanut allergies are scared of food, and that their anxiety affects their quality of life.

Gradually, sanity took hold again. We never baked a single loaf of rice bread. We again started buying the foods that he’d eaten before his allergy diagnosis with no problem. We had a long, frank talk with our pediatrician about both our fears and our skepticism. We started going to restaurants again. In time, our diets returned to what they had always been, with a very few minor changes. No soy protein for the squeaker. That means most cans of Campbell’s soup are on the blacklist, as are many breads and processed foods. Cutting those out doesn’t seem like a bad thing; who needs that stuff anyway?

And no peanuts, of course. At first, we were pretty extreme about that – no foods that were made in a facility that also processes foods containing peanuts, for instance. But we’ve relaxed that, too, though we do watch him carefully whenever he eats something that could have been exposed to peanut protein.

The squeaker eats everything else on the list of foods we were told to avoid – wheat, milk, and seafood especially. At first, I felt twinges of guilt about it – was I being a bad mom by exposing my kid to these things? Were there subtle symptoms that the allergies caused and that I was allowing him to suffer from by giving him these foods? Who was I to pretend that I knew better than the allergist?

But the squeaker’s eczema faded away despite his diet. He has the rare flare-up now and then, but that’s all. He eats a normal diet, minus peanuts and soy protein. He is not afraid of food. In fact, he loves to try new things. He was dying to get a shark steak from the grocery store. He has asked me to buy cauliflower to that he can taste it. We cancelled the appointment the allergist made for us 9 months after our initial visit – after all, what was the point?

Things would have been so different for all of us if we had followed the allergist’s advice. And the changes we’d have made would have been so drastic and yet unnecessary. Thank goodness I am a skeptic at heart.

Patience

Waiting...waiting...waiting.

It’s odd in a time when everything is scheduled and planned to have something that is mysterious and unpredictable -- especially when that something will turn your life upside down for a time.

38 weeks now. It could be hours....or weeks. The little one could decide to get things started at 3 am or 10 am or 7 pm on a weekday...or a weekend. (I’ve never been good at pulling all-nighters, so I’d be happy with a nice daytime delivery.) The squeaker’s midnight arrival was a little late for me, but I could work with that kind of timing again. But I don’t envy my sister’s wee-hours-of-the-morning deliveries.

I was a little worried about the long drive to the hospital, since my first baby took under 6 hours to arrive after those first faint contractions. But now there’s a good part of me that kind of wants an accidental homebirth. I know I could do it. I even think I could do it if I were at home alone. But there is always that tiny chance that the baby or I will need some minor medical intervention that could make a huge difference. So I’m planning on the hospital birth, for better or for worse.

The squeaker is ready. He’s surprisingly protective of his brother-to-be. When we told the squeaker that we won’t need to attack his piggies anymore once his brother arrives, the squeaker said that he wouldn’t let us, and that his brother would need his own piggies. He talks to him and pats my stomach. He also pokes my stomach and jumps on his brother, so the little one will have to be a tough little cookie. That’s the lot of younger siblings, I suppose.

We had all kinds of plans before the arrival of the pipsqueak. We would toilet train the squeaker. We would get the squeaker used to sleeping in his own bed, so that the new baby won’t disrupt his sleep too much. We would move our bedrooms upstairs. But now the time is nearly here, and we haven’t achieved any of those things. Of course, if we still have weeks to go, there might still be time.

Gentle Discipline

The squeaker likes to sleep late. While many parents of toddlers are up with them at 7 am or earlier, we usually sleep until 9:30 or 10:00 when I’m home with the squeaker. It’s very cozy and very nice, and it’s one of the reasons I haven’t pushed for an ending to the co-sleeping. When your kid sleeps well for 12 hours a night, it doesn’t seem to be worth making big changes.

However, big changes are of course afoot with the rapidly approaching day of arrival for the squeaker’s brother, the pipsqueak. So I asked the squeaker what we should do if his brother wakes up and cries while we’re all trying to sleep in.

“Make him sleep!” declared the squeaker.

“But how?” I asked.

“Smack him!” said the squeaker. This from a kid who has never been smacked in his life!

A rude awakening is in store for the squeaker, I suspect.