I find people's responses humorous in regards to our decision to use cloth diapers. We've heard anything from, "Once you use disposables, you won't want to go back!" to "You'll change your mind!" and finally "You're ambitious!"
Really, I'm not quite sure what is ambitious about opening my top-loading washing machine and throwing some wet, stinky diapers in there. Could someone please enlighten me? (I've mentioned before that my father, who is twelve years older than his younger brother, had to wash his brother's diapers using a scrub board. Now THAT would be ambitious. Though, at that time, it simply was a necessity.)
I used disposables for the first few weeks because I didn't want to deal with the extra laundry while I fought new mom tiredness combined with a nasty cold. It's been a couple of weeks since I've taken the plunge into cloth diapering, and I'm happy to say, that no, I will not go back to disposables, except for an every-now-and-again kind of thing. (I have one on Caleb now because all his cloth diapers are currently being washed.) In fact, after using cloth diapers so much, I almost think the disposable looks like an imitation diaper, a very cheap and flimsy thing in comparison.
I've been using two different kinds of cloth diapers. The first is the old-fashioned prefolds that our grandparents used. Many people use them today as burp cloths. (However, many of those around today are extremely cheap. I bought very high-quality prefolds that are thick and absorbent.) Those prefolds can be folded and fastened in various ways, or they can simply be folded into a waterproof cover. This is the method I use. This is the most economical way to cloth diaper, because the prefolds themselves are very cheap, and the covers can be used more than once before washing.
The only negative I can see from the prefolds is that I have had leaks- they have been contained within the cover- but it is annoying when I want to reuse the cover again. I've tried different folds, but for me, simply folding it into the cover is best. From what I've read from other moms, it is rather normal to have a leak out the leg and into the cover because let's face it, pooh at this stage is a messy thing. Still, that is the one annoying thing for me. When Caleb starts eating solid foods, it'll probably be easier.
The other kind of cloth diaper I have tried is a pocket diaper. I love these! A microfiber absorbent cloth is tucked in the back of a cloth diaper, and the diaper is less bulky on the baby than a prefold. The only negative thing? It is only used once and tossed in the wash pile. For this reason, it is more expensive, and though I like these diapers better, I have to use prefolds and covers to save some money. I also haven't had any leaks with these diapers, and so far the only blowouts I've had were with disposables!
I wash Caleb's diapers every other day. While I don't relish the extra laundry, it is no hardship, and when I think of the money we are saving, it makes it all worth it. Yes, even with the cost of electricity and detergent (we don't have a water bill here with well water), it is still cheaper to cloth diaper than to use disposables. I can't do the math, but it has been done by others, and it is definitely cheaper.
So I don't think I'm any kind of hero here. It doesn't take any special ability to throw a heap of cloth diapers into a machine. If more people were this "ambitious" they could save money, too!
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Father's Day
Two days ago, Brian celebrated his first Father's Day. I couldn't wait to give him my present, which was a photo album depicting Brian's first month with Caleb, so I gave it to him before he even got out of bed.
It contains some of my favorite pictures of the two of them, such as this one:
Brian's parents came down to spend the day with us, and it had been a while for three generations of men in Brian's family to be together.
I'm very proud of my husband in his new role as a father, and I'm so thrilled with the family of three we have become. I wouldn't trade either of them for anything.
It contains some of my favorite pictures of the two of them, such as this one:
Brian's parents came down to spend the day with us, and it had been a while for three generations of men in Brian's family to be together.
I'm very proud of my husband in his new role as a father, and I'm so thrilled with the family of three we have become. I wouldn't trade either of them for anything.
Friday, June 14, 2013
One Month Old
My Caleb,
Has it already been one month since I first held you in my arms? It hardly seems like any time has passed at all, but at the same time, I feel like I can hardly remember what life was like without you.
I have become a mother through and through. At night I listen to your steady breathing and am comforted to hear it. When it gets too quiet, I admit I get a little nervous, and I check to make sure you are okay. If your bassinet were any closer to my bed, it would be on top of it. In fact, I dread the day when we will move you to your crib, because I love keeping a close eye on you.
I never would have guessed it, but being your mommy has taught me many spiritual lessons. When you are hungry and I am getting ready to feed you, I see you work yourself up into a frenzy, and all the while I am right there, telling you, "It's okay, my love. I'm here." You are too little to understand me. I can't help but think we are often like that with our Heavenly Father, at the last minute working ourselves up into a state of anxiety, when He is right there all along. If only we could pause to see His tender loving care.
You have given my life a greater purpose. Yes, it had a purpose before, but being your mother brings it to a new level. Nothing in my life that I have done before equals this. I can't help but gaze at your face and wonder what kind of man you will become. I know your father and I will have much to do with that, and while that is a wonderful honor, it is also the most daunting task we have ever faced. We pray that God will guide us as we raise you so that you will become the man that He wants you to be. May we not get in His way!
I hope I never forget that magical moment when I first saw your face as the nurses handed you to me. All the pain of labor was worth it because you were the prize I received at the end. I'm so glad I have eighteen years to enjoy living with you. So much to look forward to, my little boy!
I love you, Caleb. You have made my life so much richer!
Love,
Your Mama
Has it already been one month since I first held you in my arms? It hardly seems like any time has passed at all, but at the same time, I feel like I can hardly remember what life was like without you.
I have become a mother through and through. At night I listen to your steady breathing and am comforted to hear it. When it gets too quiet, I admit I get a little nervous, and I check to make sure you are okay. If your bassinet were any closer to my bed, it would be on top of it. In fact, I dread the day when we will move you to your crib, because I love keeping a close eye on you.
I never would have guessed it, but being your mommy has taught me many spiritual lessons. When you are hungry and I am getting ready to feed you, I see you work yourself up into a frenzy, and all the while I am right there, telling you, "It's okay, my love. I'm here." You are too little to understand me. I can't help but think we are often like that with our Heavenly Father, at the last minute working ourselves up into a state of anxiety, when He is right there all along. If only we could pause to see His tender loving care.
You have given my life a greater purpose. Yes, it had a purpose before, but being your mother brings it to a new level. Nothing in my life that I have done before equals this. I can't help but gaze at your face and wonder what kind of man you will become. I know your father and I will have much to do with that, and while that is a wonderful honor, it is also the most daunting task we have ever faced. We pray that God will guide us as we raise you so that you will become the man that He wants you to be. May we not get in His way!
I hope I never forget that magical moment when I first saw your face as the nurses handed you to me. All the pain of labor was worth it because you were the prize I received at the end. I'm so glad I have eighteen years to enjoy living with you. So much to look forward to, my little boy!
I love you, Caleb. You have made my life so much richer!
Love,
Your Mama
Sunday, June 2, 2013
On Being Sick With A Newborn
My cough and sore throat have turned into a weary battle. While I normally think a cough is an evil thing, ranking at the top of my list along with houseflies and spiders, it reaches a new level when one is trying to care for a newborn.
If my baby doesn't wake me in the middle of the night, then my cough does. Sometimes it is so bad where it leaves me gasping for air. Then there are the coughing fits that come upon me while I am either nursing or trying to change a diaper. That just happened not long ago. There I was, changing Caleb's diaper and trying to clean him up, when an uncontrollable cough came upon me. It was not pretty, folks. I was desperately trying to finish the job, when at the same time, I had to keep a hand on Caleb and attempt to turn my head the other direction to prevent my germs from landing on my innocent newborn son. My eyes were watering and my nose was running, and Caleb was squirming. It was indeed a battle.
I haven't yet been to church since Caleb was born. I had planned on giving Caleb a few weeks, because I feel that newborns shouldn't be around a lot of people, but even if I had wanted to go today, forget it. I even asked Brian to stay home, because I just needed help. I am truly exhausted in a way I've never been. Getting up in the middle of the night for feedings is one thing, but doing it while being sick is another. I feel like a lousy mom right now and I speak to my son as if he understands me, and tell him how sorry I am.
I am so thankful for our church family who has been providing meals for us. Truly, if they didn't, I'm not sure what Brian and I would do for food. Last week, I was functioning much better before this hideous cold came along, but now it is another story. Since Brian stayed home with me today, that meant people from our church had to bring the food to us, and since we live half an hour from the church, it is no simple task. We are very grateful to those that have come by. I'm so glad I don't have to worry about feeding my husband and myself while trying to care for Caleb and at the same time, get better myself.
I long to get better soon so I can fully enjoy my son. These precious weeks of his newborn life are already slipping away. I don't want to lose them before I've had a chance to bask in them.
If my baby doesn't wake me in the middle of the night, then my cough does. Sometimes it is so bad where it leaves me gasping for air. Then there are the coughing fits that come upon me while I am either nursing or trying to change a diaper. That just happened not long ago. There I was, changing Caleb's diaper and trying to clean him up, when an uncontrollable cough came upon me. It was not pretty, folks. I was desperately trying to finish the job, when at the same time, I had to keep a hand on Caleb and attempt to turn my head the other direction to prevent my germs from landing on my innocent newborn son. My eyes were watering and my nose was running, and Caleb was squirming. It was indeed a battle.
I haven't yet been to church since Caleb was born. I had planned on giving Caleb a few weeks, because I feel that newborns shouldn't be around a lot of people, but even if I had wanted to go today, forget it. I even asked Brian to stay home, because I just needed help. I am truly exhausted in a way I've never been. Getting up in the middle of the night for feedings is one thing, but doing it while being sick is another. I feel like a lousy mom right now and I speak to my son as if he understands me, and tell him how sorry I am.
I am so thankful for our church family who has been providing meals for us. Truly, if they didn't, I'm not sure what Brian and I would do for food. Last week, I was functioning much better before this hideous cold came along, but now it is another story. Since Brian stayed home with me today, that meant people from our church had to bring the food to us, and since we live half an hour from the church, it is no simple task. We are very grateful to those that have come by. I'm so glad I don't have to worry about feeding my husband and myself while trying to care for Caleb and at the same time, get better myself.
I long to get better soon so I can fully enjoy my son. These precious weeks of his newborn life are already slipping away. I don't want to lose them before I've had a chance to bask in them.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Hard Things
This week marks the first week where it's been just Caleb and me. My mom was here for a week last week, but she departed Monday morning. Brian is back to work, and I began the week with high hopes that Caleb and I would get along splendidly.
Well, we are getting along, but I am already discovering the tougher points of parenting. Without a doubt, the most difficult thing for me is lugging the car seat carrier in and out of the car. I really think part of the prenatal preparation I should have done is lift weights. Carrying the thing isn't so bad. It's the putting it in and out of the car that kills me. I was taking Caleb to the chiropractor three days ago, and I pulled a muscle in my own neck trying to get him inside. To be fair, my car is very compact, and it doesn't allow for much room, so it is doubly hard to get Caleb in there. Brian can handle it better than I can because he is obviously stronger, but my car still doesn't make it easy.
Another difficult thing is taking Caleb out in the heat. Yikes, the temperatures have just skyrocketed, and I'm only just beginning my outings with him. I'm terrified he's going to suffer from heat stroke every time I put him in the car. In fact, I have to take him out later today, and the temperature will at least be 90 by then.
Aside from these things, I have come down with a bad cough and sore throat. I'd like to point out that I haven't been sick in a little over two years, when I was teaching at my former school. I have been completely healthy since. Then, after I deliver a baby, and after my mom has already gone home, I get sick. I'm trying desperately not to cough on him, but it is rather hard when I am holding him for feedings. Thank God breast milk builds up his immunity.
Between being sick and the late-night feedings (and also Caleb's fussiness that comes and goes at night), I am definitely exhausted and weary. My sister has ordered me to forget about housework right now, but it is difficult to watch my home slowly become a cluttered mess. I just don't have the energy.
I love my Caleb to pieces, but I long to feel better so that I can be a better mom to him. But I know that this too shall pass, and what parent doesn't experience difficulties in the beginning? At least Caleb is healthy and is gaining weight, and that is the important thing right now.
I'm praying that my body kicks this cough to the curb pretty soon. I need to feel better for Caleb's sake.
Well, we are getting along, but I am already discovering the tougher points of parenting. Without a doubt, the most difficult thing for me is lugging the car seat carrier in and out of the car. I really think part of the prenatal preparation I should have done is lift weights. Carrying the thing isn't so bad. It's the putting it in and out of the car that kills me. I was taking Caleb to the chiropractor three days ago, and I pulled a muscle in my own neck trying to get him inside. To be fair, my car is very compact, and it doesn't allow for much room, so it is doubly hard to get Caleb in there. Brian can handle it better than I can because he is obviously stronger, but my car still doesn't make it easy.
Another difficult thing is taking Caleb out in the heat. Yikes, the temperatures have just skyrocketed, and I'm only just beginning my outings with him. I'm terrified he's going to suffer from heat stroke every time I put him in the car. In fact, I have to take him out later today, and the temperature will at least be 90 by then.
Aside from these things, I have come down with a bad cough and sore throat. I'd like to point out that I haven't been sick in a little over two years, when I was teaching at my former school. I have been completely healthy since. Then, after I deliver a baby, and after my mom has already gone home, I get sick. I'm trying desperately not to cough on him, but it is rather hard when I am holding him for feedings. Thank God breast milk builds up his immunity.
Between being sick and the late-night feedings (and also Caleb's fussiness that comes and goes at night), I am definitely exhausted and weary. My sister has ordered me to forget about housework right now, but it is difficult to watch my home slowly become a cluttered mess. I just don't have the energy.
I love my Caleb to pieces, but I long to feel better so that I can be a better mom to him. But I know that this too shall pass, and what parent doesn't experience difficulties in the beginning? At least Caleb is healthy and is gaining weight, and that is the important thing right now.
I'm praying that my body kicks this cough to the curb pretty soon. I need to feel better for Caleb's sake.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
When Two Became Three
On Monday, May 13th, I prepared to go to the hospital for yet another ultrasound. I was one week late, and there was concern that my amniotic fluid was getting too low. This ultrasound would determine if I would be induced or if I would wait for labor to come to me on its own.
I packed my hospital bag and Brian's and prepared the house for our brief absence, just in case I would be admitted. When I got my ultrasound, the technician revealed that my fluid had indeed gone down from the level it had been at just five days before. Armed with this information, I headed down the street to see my midwife. After discussing the situation with her, she recommended I go ahead and get induced. Since she still had patients to see at the office, I had time to drive back home and meet up with Brian, so we could take one car to the hospital instead of two.
I called Brian at work and he finalized his preparations for his absence from work, and he met me at home about an hour later. We got on the road and headed back toward the hospital, all the while remarking how easy it is to drive the fifty minutes there while NOT being in labor.
We arrived there by four o'clock, found a parking spot, and calmly carried our bags inside. I was in good spirits. Labor pains had not yet come upon me, and I was now so much closer to seeing my baby. I was nervous, of course, but relatively calm. We checked in at the emergency room, and I couldn't help but be glad again that I was not actually in labor, because the process took way too long for a woman in agony. I was glad I was not.
We were sent to our room, and I was given the ever-attractive hospital gown to wear. Instead of receiving the labor-inducing drug, Pitocin, I was first receiving Cervidil, which is a medication that ripens the cervix and prepares it for labor. It does not necessarily cause a woman to go into labor, but it can have that effect. That is exactly what my midwife wanted, and if that happened, I could avoid the Pitocin altogether.
So for the first time in my life, I was lying in a hospital bed, getting ready to settle in for the night. Again, I was in good spirits, primarily because I thought I had the whole night ahead of me. I wasn't expecting to go into labor yet, but I was wrong.
The contractions started out mild, so mild that I couldn't feel them. As I was hooked up to the external fetal monitor, it showed my contractions, but I was still unaware of them. However, as the night ticked by, the pain started to come, and while I wasn't watching the clock, Brian said it was about eleven o'clock when I began to really complain. After that, the many hours were a blur.
At one point, a nurse gave me something to slow down the contractions, because they were coming on too fast and I had very little time between them to recover. The pain continued to grow throughout the night, and I got to experience firsthand the travail that women have endured since the beginning of time. I knew labor would be hard, but I don't think I ever realized just how painful it would be. Whether my pain was worse due to being induced, I am not sure since I have nothing to compare it to, but yikes, it was ugly. I wailed and yelled like a champ, not caring who in the world was hearing it.
I had wanted a natural labor and birth, but I failed in one regard. I did ask for something, the name of which I cannot remember, to help me sleep. It wasn't exactly a pain medication, because it didn't take the pain away (I can indeed attest to it still being very much there), but rather it made me so tired that I was able to sleep. I had not gotten sleep the night before due to my concerns about labor combined with an overall lack of physical comfort while being 41 weeks pregnant, and I was exhausted. I simply needed to sleep. I was able to sleep for a short time, and Brian took the opportunity to grab some sleep, too, before the real work began.
As the pains got worse, there was no stopping them. The nurses had me try various positions, and none of them made life easier at those moments. Truly, somewhere in these hours of labor, I said to myself, "I hope Brian is content with one child, because I'm not going through this again."
I was almost completely unaware of time, but morning eventually came. A new nurse entered the room, and I realized I had met her the week before when I got my non-stress test. My body began to convulse in an uncontrollable shake from head to toe, and the nurse told me it was normal, due to the shock of the body going through something so difficult. I made a desperate plea for an epidural, and after she gave me a quick exam, declared that I was 9 1/2 centimeters dilated, and very professionally and encouragingly told me that I could do this. The room began to be a flurry of nurses getting things ready, and I tried to abandon the thoughts that this suffering would never again, and consider the work that lay ahead of pushing this child into the world.
My midwife arrived and we all got to work. Brian took his position at my left side, with the nurse that had just encouraged me on my right. My midwife estimated it would take an hour to push my baby out, but in reality it took about an hour and a half. I pushed with all the strength I had, many times wasting energy by pushing my legs or using facial muscles that I didn't need to use. It's hard to push in this sort of way! It seemed there were a few rounds of contractions where the baby was right there, but I struggled to produce him. The whole room was encouraging me. "Push!" just about everyone shouted. "It hurts!" I managed to yell back.
I managed one last incredible, intense push, and I felt my precious babe slip through my body. While I should have been exhausted, the excitement of this moment in time came upon me, and I was wrapped up in it. Brian took a peek and announced to the room (mostly to me, since I couldn't see), "It's a boy!" The baby was passed to me and placed on my chest, and I will never forget the wonder of that wide-eyed moment. My baby boy was looking straight at me, and I him. I couldn't help but feel as I looked at him that I had known him my whole life. Brian and I had finalized the name just two days before, and I looked at my son and said simply, "Caleb."
The nurses got to work wiping Caleb down and cleaning him up, all while he remained in my arms. Brian was encouraged by every female in the room to cut the umbilical cord, which he did. As my midwife got to work patching me up, I heard Brian exclaim, "I have a son!" Truly, both our hearts were full.
Though he missed Mother's Day, he was the best present I could have received, even if he was two days late. Now I have two boys to take care of and two to love. My cup runneth over.
I packed my hospital bag and Brian's and prepared the house for our brief absence, just in case I would be admitted. When I got my ultrasound, the technician revealed that my fluid had indeed gone down from the level it had been at just five days before. Armed with this information, I headed down the street to see my midwife. After discussing the situation with her, she recommended I go ahead and get induced. Since she still had patients to see at the office, I had time to drive back home and meet up with Brian, so we could take one car to the hospital instead of two.
I called Brian at work and he finalized his preparations for his absence from work, and he met me at home about an hour later. We got on the road and headed back toward the hospital, all the while remarking how easy it is to drive the fifty minutes there while NOT being in labor.
We arrived there by four o'clock, found a parking spot, and calmly carried our bags inside. I was in good spirits. Labor pains had not yet come upon me, and I was now so much closer to seeing my baby. I was nervous, of course, but relatively calm. We checked in at the emergency room, and I couldn't help but be glad again that I was not actually in labor, because the process took way too long for a woman in agony. I was glad I was not.
We were sent to our room, and I was given the ever-attractive hospital gown to wear. Instead of receiving the labor-inducing drug, Pitocin, I was first receiving Cervidil, which is a medication that ripens the cervix and prepares it for labor. It does not necessarily cause a woman to go into labor, but it can have that effect. That is exactly what my midwife wanted, and if that happened, I could avoid the Pitocin altogether.
So for the first time in my life, I was lying in a hospital bed, getting ready to settle in for the night. Again, I was in good spirits, primarily because I thought I had the whole night ahead of me. I wasn't expecting to go into labor yet, but I was wrong.
The contractions started out mild, so mild that I couldn't feel them. As I was hooked up to the external fetal monitor, it showed my contractions, but I was still unaware of them. However, as the night ticked by, the pain started to come, and while I wasn't watching the clock, Brian said it was about eleven o'clock when I began to really complain. After that, the many hours were a blur.
At one point, a nurse gave me something to slow down the contractions, because they were coming on too fast and I had very little time between them to recover. The pain continued to grow throughout the night, and I got to experience firsthand the travail that women have endured since the beginning of time. I knew labor would be hard, but I don't think I ever realized just how painful it would be. Whether my pain was worse due to being induced, I am not sure since I have nothing to compare it to, but yikes, it was ugly. I wailed and yelled like a champ, not caring who in the world was hearing it.
I had wanted a natural labor and birth, but I failed in one regard. I did ask for something, the name of which I cannot remember, to help me sleep. It wasn't exactly a pain medication, because it didn't take the pain away (I can indeed attest to it still being very much there), but rather it made me so tired that I was able to sleep. I had not gotten sleep the night before due to my concerns about labor combined with an overall lack of physical comfort while being 41 weeks pregnant, and I was exhausted. I simply needed to sleep. I was able to sleep for a short time, and Brian took the opportunity to grab some sleep, too, before the real work began.
As the pains got worse, there was no stopping them. The nurses had me try various positions, and none of them made life easier at those moments. Truly, somewhere in these hours of labor, I said to myself, "I hope Brian is content with one child, because I'm not going through this again."
I was almost completely unaware of time, but morning eventually came. A new nurse entered the room, and I realized I had met her the week before when I got my non-stress test. My body began to convulse in an uncontrollable shake from head to toe, and the nurse told me it was normal, due to the shock of the body going through something so difficult. I made a desperate plea for an epidural, and after she gave me a quick exam, declared that I was 9 1/2 centimeters dilated, and very professionally and encouragingly told me that I could do this. The room began to be a flurry of nurses getting things ready, and I tried to abandon the thoughts that this suffering would never again, and consider the work that lay ahead of pushing this child into the world.
My midwife arrived and we all got to work. Brian took his position at my left side, with the nurse that had just encouraged me on my right. My midwife estimated it would take an hour to push my baby out, but in reality it took about an hour and a half. I pushed with all the strength I had, many times wasting energy by pushing my legs or using facial muscles that I didn't need to use. It's hard to push in this sort of way! It seemed there were a few rounds of contractions where the baby was right there, but I struggled to produce him. The whole room was encouraging me. "Push!" just about everyone shouted. "It hurts!" I managed to yell back.
I managed one last incredible, intense push, and I felt my precious babe slip through my body. While I should have been exhausted, the excitement of this moment in time came upon me, and I was wrapped up in it. Brian took a peek and announced to the room (mostly to me, since I couldn't see), "It's a boy!" The baby was passed to me and placed on my chest, and I will never forget the wonder of that wide-eyed moment. My baby boy was looking straight at me, and I him. I couldn't help but feel as I looked at him that I had known him my whole life. Brian and I had finalized the name just two days before, and I looked at my son and said simply, "Caleb."
The nurses got to work wiping Caleb down and cleaning him up, all while he remained in my arms. Brian was encouraged by every female in the room to cut the umbilical cord, which he did. As my midwife got to work patching me up, I heard Brian exclaim, "I have a son!" Truly, both our hearts were full.
Though he missed Mother's Day, he was the best present I could have received, even if he was two days late. Now I have two boys to take care of and two to love. My cup runneth over.
Friday, May 17, 2013
We Love You, Caleb Brian
I will write a longer post when the word exhausted isn't the best to describe me at the moment, but Brian and I were thrilled to bring Caleb home from the hospital yesterday. We are beginning the adjustment to a new life caring for a little one, but we are loving it.
I'll post more pictures for now, and I'll tell the story of his birth another day. Stay tuned!
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