Elias is now nine days past his due date, and not surprisingly he is now acting a lot like a nine-day-old newborn. His preemie tendencies to sleep a long time (too long, in fact) and to have eating troubles are both gone. Now he sleeps in standard 2- or 3-hour segments (at most) and otherwise occupies himself with eating. And eating. And eating. To give you a sense of this, in the course of writing the above few sentences, I had to stop and briefly nurse Elias. It's sort of like riding a bike, though, this doing everything with a nursing baby attached to one's breast. (I do wish I had a sling that would work for me– suggestions welcome– my New Native Baby Carrier is not pleasing me somehow–). Eating dinner, back to the old needing someone else to cut up my food because I'm doing everything one-handed while supporting Sir Nurse-A-Lot with the other. Reading the paper I can manage except for all the folding and unfolding (magazines are better), talking on the phone, paying bills, doing dishes, and ha-ha typing one-handed, as I am now, as he's woken up again. This reminds me of an incident in which a friend absent-mindedly greeted the UPS man at the door while flagrantly nursing. Multi-tasking is the order of the day. When the baby is in marsupial mode and lots of things still need to be done, the solution is obvious. (this moment: drinking tea for my latest sore throat/sinus deal, writing a blog entry, and nursing. Much as a mother needs a third eye, or eyes at the back of her head, she also needs a third arm and hand.)
But of course were I bottle feeding, that would be some work also. Things I DON'T have to do include going out and buying formula (and paying big money for it), washing and boiling bottles and nipples, getting up in the middle of the night to mix and warm feedings, sitting there and holding the bottle while baby drinks. All this is greatly streamlined by simply unbuttoning and immediately having the right food in the right amount, right container, and at the right temperature. I won't wade in to the political and emotional quagmire that is the breast v. bottle debate, but let me just say that I'm very happy to see that after some years of hard resistance on the part of the formula industry, the national public service "babies are born to be breastfed" campaign has finally been launched. Go here to see/hear/read the ads they created….
http://www.4woman.gov/breastfeeding/index.cfm?page=adcouncil
Meanwhile, the odd thing about all this is that Elias is by far the easy part. If I only had him, this whole situation would be a walk in the park. The thing that's making it so challenging is Isaac. To put it simply : He's out of his mind. I do hope it's temporary insanity brought on by what is to date the biggest, hardest, and most overwhelming change he's ever experienced. Having one's life turned upside down for a new sibling, going from the center of the solar system to (I'm sure it feels this way) somewhere out there by that icy, lonely "minor planet" Pluto, has GOT to be a real shock and adjustment. I don't deny that and a lot of the time my heart bleeds for him. This is not easy for any of us in a lot of ways. We're now family of four, and I as a new mother of two often find myself in no-win situations where both of them are needing me and are upset. And he's not alone– the stories of the older sibling reaction to this upheaval are I think as common as multi-sibling families. My own brother Jonathan (then age 2) suggested that his new baby brother be "put in a hole." A lady I talked to at school the other day said that her son (aged 3) began to scream and insist that she call the baby's mommy to come and take the baby away! etc., etc.
But as much as I understand this and I do feel for him (and I do my best to make sure he gets my UNdivided attention for a time each day), he is basically driving me crazy. For him, the emotional intensity of this transition takes the form of physical action– disorder, motion, speed, roughness, recklessness, destruction. It seems especially acute when I'm… you guessed it… breastfeeding the baby. And guess what I do all day? So guess what else I do? While breastfeeding and in some ways feeling rather hemmed in — I mean, I can't very well get up and rush around the room and physically haul Isaac into a time out, all with a baby on my breast… and I can't honestly stop breastfeeding every time Isaac provokes me… that's what he wants, isn't it?– Isaac is at his very worst. He does things like, say, walking around the room and literally picking up anything he can get his hands on and throwing it as hard as possible. Doesn't matter what or in what direction. just THROW IT. I think we've already mentioned that the kid has a good arm. And then there's the climbing things not meant to be climbed. And then there are the crazy stunts, the jumping and running and crashing sort of stunts. At times he's even seemed to be actually trying to hurt himself to get my attention– the most obvious example is when he put his foot under the glider on which I was rocking such that it would get crushed. I mean, I stopped in time, but this seemed to be the plan.
So I spend a lot of time getting a headache while sitting there and saying "no." NO NO NO NO NO! No! No! No! On and on. I try to get him to do something he CAN do, like come and a read a story with me. Or let's talk about your day at school. Or, let's play Chutes and Ladders. Or let's pretend… Or … whatever… anything I can come up with that NOT going to harm someone or break something or is not basically totally disruptive to the blissed out, oxytocin-induced baby/mother bonding time that I would like to be having.
The other difficulty I face at the moment is transporting Isaac to and from school. It's logistically complicated and totally inconvenient. Last week, I would even say it seemed a safety and health problem. I'm not officially supposed to be driving post-c-section until tomorrow, but I ended up having to start last week due to lots of competing needs of competing parties in the family. Isaac needs to go to school. Ben needs to go to work. I need to sit at home, rest up from my c-section, sleep when the baby sleeps. Elias needs to be protected from germs. But not all of these needs could be met at the same time, and so I found myself out in the world, driving, carrying the baby into the germ-laden school, and causing a mild relapse in my healing process. Just getting out the door with the two of them is quite a task– I mean, there's a learning curve to it and I'm a rank beginner. I know it will get easier. It has to…
The school we chose, knowing its location full well, is about 20 minutes away. 30 if there's traffic. Isaac attends in the mornings only, for a three-hour block of time. That means that it makes little sense to drive over there, drop him off, drive home for a scant two hours, and then drive back to get him, and of course drive home. So what this means is that I'm over on the other side of town for 2 1/2 hours, wondering what to do with myself and a tiny baby. Where can I breastfeed? Has been a major question on my mind. Where is the cafe with an easy chair in a secluded spot? Where are the latter-day hippies who will not hassle me or give me the fish eye? (Although at this point I would be more likely to organize a nurse-in than to go quietly… I feel a real strain of lactivism coming on!) Where are the low-germ, not so public places over there? I don't know. Maybe there aren't any. Hence this explains why I've been nursing in the car. That's not so bad. I do wish I had armrests. But what about when it's winter? What then? Will I nurse in the car like an Eskimo, pulling aside my layers of seal skin? And meanwhile, the baby has decided to do his one "BIG" sleep of the day– 4 hours– in the morning. At the exact time when I'm out in the world and not able to sleep myself. This disrupts the whole "sleep when he sleeps" system that is so critical to my well being and sanity.
Ben and I have been trying to figure out options– should we hire a full-time nanny to take Isaac to and from school and then also run him to the point of exhaustion someplace before bringing him home? (With all this bad weather it's clear we need an indoor large-motor facility for him). Should we try to extend his day, either bringing him to school early or picking him up late? Should we try to find some sort of kiddie transportation service (they do exist apparently) to take him to and from? I don't know. None are a good fit, really… And so tomorrow morning I will be up again, likely on a few winks of sleep, definitely with a bad cold, getting Isaac ready for school while also nursing Elias and trying somehow to put on clothes myself. Somehow trying to get breakfast into Isaac at least and to get us out the door on time. Definitely having moments where one or both are crying and not being immediately attended to. And then out there in society, facing the germy coughing public…
Last week, though, we were driving home in the pouring rain, and I had a moment of clarity about all this. Isaac said, “Let’s listen to the song about wisdom.” I didn’t know what song he was referring to and started offering the various CDs I had on hand. He settled on the Beatles “Let it Be.” But still, dense as I am, I didn’t know what he meant by the song about wisdom. We ran through the tracks. The first couple tracks were emphatically not it, but then he said that the song about “nothing’s gonna change my world” was it. Yes! We listened while I thought, “Hm. It’s not directly ‘about wisdom’ but it has a sort of wise message. Nothing is going to change my world! Yes, I can see what he means. It’s a message of acceptance. Your reality is what it is… you should just find the good in what you have… ” Then we moved on to the next song, and again, Isaac said “that’s it!” It was “I, Me, Mine” in which the chorus goes, “I—me—me—mine!” I thought, “Hm. Well, it’s not obviously about wisdom, but it seems to be a critique of consumerist culture, you know, the selfishness of it all. And maybe I am being selfish. And what is motherhood about but self sacrifice?” And then we finally came to the song “let it be” itself. In which, of course, the lyric is “When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be.” Of course! Words of wisdom! This is what he meant all along, although I later understood that for him it’s a multi-song opus. (In order to hear it again you have to go back to track three.) Soon I found myself swept up into the moment, singing along in a rendition that made up for its lack of tonal precision with a whole lot of soul.
Something about the pouring rain, my two boys in the back seat, maybe a touch of exhaustion-induced euphoria, and the repeating message to just “let it be” got through to me. What am I complaining about? I have two beautiful sons, all I ever wanted and more. None of the rest of it matters! We’ll work all this out eventually. I’ll get more sleep. Elias will get bigger. Isaac will regain his sanity. We’ll adjust. It’s time to just get into a zen state, stop struggling, and let it all just be what it is.