Suzianne to San Diego, Day 3.5: It’s all fun and games, til somebody gets their back thrown out

Guess what? I can’t lift my baby. Sweet.

Yesterday afternoon, I had just changed Suzianne’s diaper, and breastfed her in the Nordstrom lounge when all of the sudden, I couldn’t move.

My back had given out and I could not lift Suzianne into the stroller seat. I couldn’t even stand up. So, there we sat.

I was all panicked; mom was on the other side of the mall. Suzianne was all, “why are we sitting here when we could be checking out the Michael Kors purses?”

Last night, she had to sleep in the bed with me so I could feed her without lifting her in and out of the crib. It turns out, it’s the feeding her part that is making my back seize up. So now, I’m laying here, feeling like a moron. A moron in a lot of pain who cannot feed her baby.

But at least I’ve got this handy Rite Aid heat pack mom had bought me when I had the boob issue. I’m bringing sexy back:

And hoping that a day of bed rest will fix me.

This clearly means that I can’t fly home tomorrow, because I can’t carry Suzianne, much less break down her stroller in the airport security line. I can’t even breastfeed her at this point. Good thing I packed the pump.

This sucks. But it is at times like these that you really, really appreciate your momma. Mom has been taking such good care of me/us. Last night, she took Suzianne away and put me in a bath with Motrin and a glass of champaign. This morning, she took Suzianne at 6:30 a.m. so I could rest.

I’m equal parts sad and freaked out. There’s really nothing worse than hearing Suzianne cry, or seeing her want to play with me, and not be able to meet her needs.

The good news: if you’re gonna be “stuck” in a city, at least we’re stuck in beautiful San Diego.

We’ll be here a few extra days. In the meantime, if you’ve got helpful tips on managing back pain, please leave them in the comments!

A mother’s love is unconditional

It’s a good thing that parents inherently love their children’ down to their very core. Because if Suzianne sleeping at night for more than 1.5 hours at a time was required for us to love her, she’d be out of luck.

However, since our love for her comes without such terms, she’s golden. And very much loved. Despite the lack of Team Newman beauty rest, which she doesn’t seem to need anyway.

She’s all:

 

While Dave and I are all:

BUT you know when she DOES sleep? The day. Loves her some day. And the Woombie (h/t Andrea). This is now the only swaddle she can’t bust out of. You know, until she figures out how to work a zipper. I give her a week, tops.

Confession: I had a complete breakdown last night at 3:30 a.m.

Me to Dave: {in tears} “This is my fault. She won’t sleep at night. I must be doing something wrong.”

Dave: “She’s a healthy, happy, smiling baby. And she’s only 10 weeks old.”

Me: “But everyone I know tells me their babies sleep five, six, even 10 hours a night at this point. This is something I am doing wrong.”

 

I truly believe there is something I’m just not doing correctly. I’ve read every book, every blog, every article. We’ve let her nap at night, not let her nap at night. We’ve fed her a bottle of formula to help her sleep better. We’ve changed her diaper in the dark, not changed at all. We’ve rocked her in the dark and not rocked her at all.

I’ve talked to so many of you and you’ve been kind enough to share your tips. I try them all–except for the bourbon-in-the-milk solution, which a cab driver told me about this week–and they usually work the first night. But the next night, we’re back to waking up every hour to two hours.

Is it me? Or is this normal? Suggestion welcome!

This old girl ain’t what she used to be

I’m old.

This week, my body has made this very, very clear.

Here’s me, on the couch ASLEEP when Joe Flood was here visiting:

I was ASLEEP nearly the entire time he was a here, ya’ll. Geez. But I just couldn’t help it. Thanks for documenting that, Joe.

Also, my back, wrists and knees ache. I’m sure the back and wrist issues are due to my improper form while lifting, cradling and loving on Suzianne. I’m trying to do better. And wondering if I need to invest in wrist braces…

But my knees? Both hurt so badly–and in the exact same place– that I can’t hardly walk. It’s not from running because I was running two weeks before this issue came to be. I assumed for several days that it was due to the way I was sitting during tummy time.

Thanks to Dave, we’ve now cornered the culprit: The Rocking Chair of Doom.

For months, I’ve loved this chair so much that it now bears an imprint of my tush. It’s a petite chair, and am a petite gal, so we make a great pair. For months, I always sat in it with my feet up on the ottoman.

Last week, when we moved the chair into the teeny, tiny nursery, I didn’t put the ottoman in there. Apparently, all that rocking Suzianne in my petite chair with no ottoman is tearing up my knees. Dave’s theory is that the chair is too low to the ground.

Regardless, my body is really screaming at me this week. So I’m taking a break from my running routine to let it heal (sigh) and popping Motrin.

And the ottoman is now in the nursery.

Suzianne’s advice for mommies-to-be: take some yoga classes, ladies. You will soon be using and straining muscles you forgot you had!  

I broke the baby

Yesterday was Suzianne’s two month check up. Great news: she’s 10.6 pounds and 22 inches long. All her parts are in working order. Including the plumbing, as evidenced by the explosive poop diaper she treated me, the car seat and the nurse to.

Two items of note:

1. The doctor placed Suzianne on her tummy. She lifted up her head, looked both ways and then SHE ROLLED OVER. 

Me: “Wait. What just happened there? Did my baby just roll over?”

Doctor: “You have a freakishly strong child. Be sure to record this in the baby book.”

MY CHILD IS BRILLIANT, ya’ll!  Kids aren’t supposed to roll over til their like 14 or whatever, but MY baby did so at eight weeks old.

As you’d expect, I was beaming with “Holy crap I am a freaking rockstar of a mother” pride when this happened:

Doctor: “Now, about her misshapen head.”

Me: {wide eyes. blink blink.} “No, no. She was born with a perfectly round head. I once had the stitches to prove it.”

Doctor: “Okay, but NOW the left side of her face is misshapen because she only lays on and favors her right side. I’m going to send you to a specialist to makes baby helmets for this condition.”

 

And that’s when it hit me: I broke the baby.

See, Suzianne is a slide sleeper. Although I place her on her back to sleep, I rock her to sleep in my lap; always on her right side, because she likes it:

When she’s in the crib, she’s on her back, but she moves her head to the right. When she’s on her play mat, she looks at things on the right. Tummy time: between lifts, she rests her head on the right side.

All my rocking and cuddling of her–always on her right side–has made the left side of her face slope down. Thanks, Gravity. You jerk.

So, now we begin the “Hey! The left side of the world is fun, too!” process. We have to make her sleep with her right side wedged up so she can’t roll to it. I’m having to change the way I hold her, feed her, rock her, put her in the car seat, crib, etc. We’ve been at it one day and she’s confused, but not too upset by it:

Next week, I’ll make the appointment with the Baby Helmet guy and hope that by the time we see him, our home interventions will have already cleared up the problem.

Have you dealt with this issue? If so, throw me your suggestions in the comments.

Sorry, Dave and Granny Sue Sue. I didn’t mean to break our baby!