Jackie's first 100 days

So it's been 100 days that Jackie has been in our lives.  I would argue Jackie has accomplished more in her first 100 days than another person who shall remain nameless, who started his job on the same day.

I mean, when she started out, she was the worst.  Trouble latching.  Wouldn't sleep for beans.  Always gassy.  Always fussy.  And if you even sneezed near her, she'd start to scream like an air-raid siren.  It was tough; I posted about this so I wouldn't forget.  And I might have, because it honestly feels like a bad dream.  A bad dream where I never got to brush my hair or change my clothes or go to the bathroom unless I had another adult around to hold the baby.  And even then I had to do it at a run, because she'd last maybe two minutes with John before starting to cry.  Meanwhile, despite being quite alert, she didn't really look at you, but would stare fixedly over your shoulder while you tried to get her attention.

I'm not saying she's easy now.  But she has made a ton of progress.  She is fairly good at nursing, as evidenced by the fact that she will tank up with a good feed and then not want another one for some time.  She sleeps a big chunk at night usually.  Her naps average about forty-five minutes instead of ten.  She can be put down for quite awhile in her bouncy seat or on a blanket.  She smiles.  She laughs.  She doesn't do peekaboo yet, but she likes it if you get in her face and make faces or talk.  She doesn't stare you down like many babies do, but she does make some eye contact.

She's gone from this skeptical grumpface:

to this face that's actually happy to see you:

So that's good.  Certainly makes it easier to do all the work it takes to care for a baby when they appear to like you.

She's now rolling over from front to back, and getting herself quite turned around in her crib at night.  She can get her hands in her mouth, bat at toys, and kick a lot more methodically instead of just flailing at random.  She can now handle the grocery store without having to be nursed halfway through the aisles.  (I generally have to nurse her after bagging, but that's less difficult.)

Of course more abilities mean more problems.  She wakes herself up rolling over sometimes.  She has outgrown the sling but hates the mei tai.  She's drooling and gnawing on things, meaning her teeth are probably starting to bug her although they likely won't break through for months.  But, like money, age brings fewer problems than it takes away.

And I'm proud to report that I now actively like her!  I feel like I've got something of a bond going with this small demanding person, and I play with her sometimes when I don't have to.  A lot of faking-it-till-I-made-it went into that, but it worked so I don't feel bad about that.

I definitely feel completely recovered from the birth and have more energy than I had at least during third trimester, perhaps longer.  Of course I have more to do, so I'm still tired all the time, but I definitely prefer "tired after having accomplished something" to "tired after accomplishing nothing."  I think Jackie being a baby who actually sleeps at night is a big factor there.  Miriam was so awful at night.  In fact she still is, but John gets up with her.  So he's the zombie and I'm functional.  Ah well.

Still haven't lost much weight.  I don't understand how that can be, with all the running up and down stairs and walking to school for this or that, but oh well to that too.  Nine months on, nine months off.

Babies get easier as they get older, but it's very much two very slow steps forward and one rapid step back, so you don't really notice.  But I'm going to go out there and call these 100 days a success.  Things were easier at two weeks than they were at birth, and easier still at six weeks, and easier now at three months.  She's not a newborn any more, she's a standard Baby, and I know what to do with those.

The first 100 days went well; now here's to the rest of a successful first term!

7 busy takes

1

Remember how I said this year was going to be super tough and I wasn't going to be able to just sit back and survive it -- that I was going to have to put on my big girl panties and do all the things?  Yeah, that was accurate.  There has been a LOT of stuff I've had to get done lately.  I feel like I've been more energetic than I have been in awhile, but it doesn't matter because there's just more to get done, so I'm exactly as behind as ever.

Take this week: I have had to go out of the house every day so far, and skip two homeschool meetups I would have liked to go to.  Last week was the same, and next week promises to be similar!  Gone are the days when my only real commitments were grocery shopping and returning the library books.

2

Monday's adventure was getting the kids their shots.  Yes, I am finally vaccinating my kids.  It's been hard for me ... I've never had a legitimate reason not to vaccinate them.  I knew that reactions were rare, that if vaccines had ever caused autism, they no longer have thimerosal in them, so that shouldn't be happening now at any rate.

What it was, for me, was mistrust: a feeling that the medical establishment could not be trusted to have my best interests at heart, that if there were a serious danger in vaccines, they would surely cover it up and perhaps even punish the scientist who had claimed there was.  I do not know why pro-vaxxers think, "Dr. Wakefield's study was retracted and his medical license was revoked!" is evidence in favor of their position.  It is clearly the opposite, to anyone who was against vaccines in the first place.  EVERYONE KNOWS the medical establishment says they are safe, so why do people keep saying "but here's a CDC page saying I'm right!" is some kind of slam-dunk?  But I've become a lot more pro-establishment lately.  While no one is to be trusted absolutely, people who have dedicated their lives to the study of a certain topic are probably more to be trusted than those who haven't.  And as far as corruption goes -- I've been deep enough into the natural-health community to find that it's not immune from the same thing.  If you can follow the money in the CDC's recommendations, you can also follow the money to find out why Dr. Mercola sells what he does.  There is a lot of money in alternative medicine, and a lot less oversight.  And it's easy to see a contradiction in people who automatically shoot down any claim made by their doctor because they don't trust him, and then immediately share any ridiculous claim made by a random lady with a blog.  And I've realized that when a treatment has been shown with actual evidence to be safe and effective -- somebody patents it and your doctor prescribes it.

The other issue is that I always felt, on some level, that it was better for my kid to get sick of a disease that I didn't prevent than to get sick of a shot I actually gave him.  Part of the Catholic "actions matter more than omissions" thing.  I'm now a lot more of a consequentialist (though I admit there is at least some difference between an action and an omission) so I feel like I should be choosing, not the option with the least personal involvement, but the option with the smallest chance of my kids getting sick.  Yes, I would feel way more guilty if they got sick of a shot than if they got sick of a virus.  Yet that's not really the morally significant part of the equation.  The morally significant part is that I would have done what had the best chance of keeping them well, regardless of how I felt about it.

3

The night before we got the shots, I lay awake awhile worrying about it.  John joked that I don't need to worry because "what are they going to do, give Marko MORE autism?"  But, silly or not, that was how I felt ... I mean, given that he's already autistic, what if that means his system is super fragile?  I know that autistic kids massively regress for all kinds of reasons; I even read of a child who regressed and lost his language ability after the chicken pox.  And it's not impossible that Marko might regress after the shots.  I was also scared about the pain for them ... both boys had to get three shots this week, and those hurt!  I personally have a massive needle phobia, not just of the pain itself, but of the thought of foreign substances inside my body.  To get a shot, I have to think about it as little as possible.  And there I would have to be up close and personal, and put a brave face on so I didn't give the boys my own fears.  I would a thousand times rather have had all six shots myself than have to put my kids through it.

But they did fine.  Neither kid was scared about it.  Marko yelped at each jab and sounded indignant, but the second they were over he was fine.  Michael, seeing Marko's reaction, suddenly panicked and tried to fight the shots, so I had to restrain him.  That was not fun at all.  But again, the second the last shot was over he was fine, and bragged about how brave he had been.  (NOT.)  Then we all went for ice cream, and I had one of those perfect parenting moments, eating ice cream with them at the gazebo in town, feeling like, for once, we were all happy at the same time and could just enjoy being together.  (Which lasted until Miriam threw a fit about a bite of ice cream she'd given me and then wanted back after I'd swallowed it.  OH WELL.)

They have to go back next week for the other two shots (MMR and varicella, which are both live, ugh) and then after four weeks we go and get more doses of all the same things.  The frustrating part is that, since two of the shots have to be given over six months, they will not be caught up by the start of school.  I believe that this won't delay them from starting school, so long as I can get a doctor's note.  I certainly hope not; after all this effort to get everything set up for Marko to start school at the beginning of the year, when things are starting slow, it would be terrible to have to make him wait till October and then try to catch up.

4

The other thing I did this week that tore me up was signing up both boys for school.  John and I have talked the issue to death and we've pretty much reached agreement to at least try it.  It used to be that he was for it and I was against, but when we did a school tour, Marko actually looked pretty interested in everything.  And when we went back to pick up some paperwork, he was upset that we didn't get to stay and play with the special ed teacher's cars.

This is a kid who used to sob if we turned down the street the school was on, because he was so terrified of the place.  Multiple visits for various meetings have taken away the dread for him.  He's also having speech therapy there, and he's enjoyed that.  He still insists he'll never ever go to school, but it almost seems like a pro forma objection -- he likes going there and he seems pretty interested in my stories of what goes on there.

I don't think he'll learn better at school than at home.  He will almost certainly fall behind a bit in school stuff.  But what he will gain are the social skills that are his weakest point: he will get lots of practice talking to other grownups, he'll be encouraged to socialize with other kids, he'll learn about following directions.  This is stuff that a kid should know, at least a little bit.  I used to not worry about his shyness, feeling that he'd eventually be ready to talk to more people and till then, he didn't need to.  But then there was the time last year that Michael poked him in the eye with a popsicle stick.  We took him to the doctor, and he could not communicate with him or with the nurse about whether he could read the vision chart.  And I realized, a child needs to be able to ask for help from adults that aren't his parents.  He doesn't need to do it all the time, but he needs to be able to.  And Marko, probably because of his autism, is not able to and it doesn't look like he's going to just start doing it without being pushed.  He's gotten better at this in the past six months, just from all the assessments we've put him through.  There has been complaining, insisting he won't go, lying on the floor refusing to move, but in the end he has gone to all of them and talked with the professionals who are assessing him.  He just needs practice.

Of course in theory I could provide all this, by doing more homeschool groups and more library story times and maybe piano lessons or dance lessons or something.  But ... that's kind of in the alternate reality where I hadn't had a baby this year.  It is really hard for me even to keep up with his homeschooling.  I have to admit I'm not really able to provide all he needs, not this year.

And Michael will be going too, because unlike Marko, Michael actually wants to.  He's super excited about the idea of school, of playing with other kids, of getting a backpack and a lunchbox and books of his very own.  It would seem kind of unfair to send his brother, who doesn't want to go, and not send him.  Plus, I figure one year of school, right at the beginning when it's easy, will give him the social skills he currently lacks and reassure me that he doesn't have any issues.  Then, hopefully, next year we can get back to homeschooling with a bit more confidence.  I know it was very hard for me to switch from homeschool to traditional school, in part because I started so late (fourth grade) when all the other kids knew each other and a lot of the rules were unspoken.  If Michael has a year of kindergarten under his belt, then he will easily be able to transition back into school at whatever year he wants to -- whether that's fourth grade, ninth grade, or college.

I'm trying not to be dogmatic about this, to take it one year at a time, rather than mapping out our entire education.  But I'm really hoping everyone has made a ton of progress by next year, while at the same time wanting to get back to homeschooling, so that there will be no reason to keep them in school another year.  I like homeschooling.  I like being together as a family.  And as overwhelmed as I am right now, by next year Jackie will be older and I expect I'll be better able to handle everything.

5

But the school thing is so far not making my life less stressful, but more.  I have to get birth certificates for the kids; that's been a big runaround.  I have to get them shots.  Everyone needs a physical.  Everyone needs school clothes.  Marko needs to get on board with wearing underwear before August.  Of course this is all because we haven't started yet, but then once we do start, I'll have to walk the kids the two blocks to school every day.  That's a lot more leaving the house than I'm used to.

The bright side is that other things are actually getting done that needed to be.  I got my chicken application submitted at last, over a year after the urban farming ordinance was passed.  The shots, of course, had to be done anyway and I'm glad we're finally getting them done.  (I'm waiting on Miriam because she is completely unmanageable now -- there is no way I could get a shot into her without some backup.)  I bought a cherry tree yesterday, which I'm going to plant today.  I feel .... better about adulting than I have in a long time.  I'm realizing the truth of what I've read about anxiety, that the best way to get over it is to push yourself through it and then realize after the fact that it wasn't so scary.  And that's been true for both Marko and me ... when we don't have a choice to back out of the scary thing, we've done it, and been less scared about it.

Maybe I'll actually go to the dentist this year!

6

Warm weather has meant lots of pleasant time outside.  I always feel better about everything in the spring.  Except, one night, the first night we slept with the windows open, I couldn't sleep and was racked with feelings of anxiety ... because last year, when I last slept with the windows open in the spring, I had just found out I was pregnant and lay awake for hours having panic attacks.  It is going to take me a long time to get over that.  Even though I think the worst is behind me and there is nothing left to be afraid of, I still remember the fear and dread and feel terrible.

But in the daylight hours, it's all good.  I've been planting lots of stuff in my new giant garden.  Jackie has reached the age where she actually likes lying on a blanket in the grass .... though I can't let her do it for long, because I have so much anxiety that someone will step on her.  I am not sure how much of that is good sense (my kids are so oblivious!) and how much is just brainweasels.

Miriam and Michael love Jackie so much.  Especially Miriam, still, but Michael also is pretty interested now that she's a bit more responsive.  She smiles, looks at them, waves her arms around, and they always interpret this as "she likes me! she's trying to talk to me!"  I love it.

And even Marko has finally unbent enough to play with her.  Nobody else was interested in his ponies (which he got for his birthday) so he flew them around in front of her face to entertain her.  And she really did look at them, so he was perfectly content.  I've noticed lately that he plays more with Miriam, as well, because he needs playmates who will follow instructions rather than expecting to be equal creators of the game.  I'm not sure if this is entirely positive, but hey, he's not ignoring 2/3 of his siblings, so I'm going to rank it in the "win" column all the same.  Especially for a kid who, up to a month ago, was insisting Jackie was NOT his sister and NOT part of the family and he was not EVER EVER going to look at her.

7

This reminds me that I haven't mentioned yet that Marko is seven.  Hard to believe.  His current obsession (added onto his past obsessions -- he still plays Minecraft and Harry Potter a lot of the time) is My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic.  It's actually not as obnoxious a show as I thought at first blush -- they clearly made an effort to include some humor and pop-culture references for the parents.  I like that it breaks down the concept of friendship into manageable, explicit skills.

For his birthday, John wanted to take him out on an outing of his choosing, just the two of them.  He picked going to a movie, but Michael was all upset that he wasn't going along.  Marko looked at Michael crying for awhile, and then came to me to say, "I know how Michael feels, because I would feel the same way if he were going to a movie with Daddy without me."  I was extremely impressed at this insight from him, which isn't common, and suggested he talk to John about it.  John told him he could bring Michael along too, and both boys were thrilled to get to do their special birthday outing together.

Michael's birthday is tomorrow; he'll be five.  He remains the sweetest boy you'll ever meet -- coming over to me often to give me hugs and kisses.  And recently he's become quite polite, since I decided the best way to curb whining was to suggest polite phrases he could say instead.  So when I give him something that isn't to his liking, he'll now say "Thank you for giving this to me, Mama, and can you please cut it in half?"  That's a huge improvement over, "I WANTED it to be cut in HALF, waaaaaaaah!"  And he's great about all the "hellos" and "good mornings" and "I love yous" that Marko generally does not say.  It makes me appreciate all these things just that much more.

Miriam is going through a very tantrummy stage.  John calls her the Destroyer of Souls; I don't think it's as bad as all that, but then, I'm not the one who has to be up with her from midnight to four a.m. when she has a bad night.  That would probably destroy my soul too.  It's clearly causing her to be a lot less amiable in the daytime; the tiniest thing causes sobs and hitting.  Letting her hug and kiss her sister often helps; hugs from us parents are loudly rejected.  The other day she asked to nurse again, after about a month of not asking.  A part of me wishes we were still nursing, because it surely would help with the tantrums, but .... it's a very small part, compared to the part that's glad to be done.

Jackie is three months today -- the magic number, in my mind, when a baby starts to get easier.  She took a two-hour nap today.  That's not an all-the-time thing, but good naps are definitely becoming more common.  And when she's awake, she's a lot more willing to sit in her bouncer or lie on the bed and just kick around, looking at stuff.

She reminds me of Marko, as a baby, which of course worries me a lot.  She's not comforted by being held unless she is also being walked around so she can look at stuff.  She won't nurse if she's upset, and screams bloody murder if you try to nurse her when she's not interested.  She does make eye contact and smile, but ... I am not entirely sure she makes eye contact as much as other babies do.  It's more of a brief glance and then she smiles over your shoulder.  Of course I know I've got autism on the brain and see it everywhere, even where it's not.

That's it for this week.  How has yours been?

7 one-month takes

1

So apparently Jackie is five weeks old today.  They certainly have not been racing by, but it still seems kind of startling when I do the math.  Five weeks is too late to change my mind and start spelling her nickname "Jacky," right?  Especially as I can't change the spelling on the tags in my sidebar.

This is the stage where you stop thinking, "Wow!  I'm recovering so fast!  The worst is over!  Every day gets easier!" and start thinking, "I'm as recovered as I'm going to be for a long time yet, and I can't believe it's still so hard."  That is, that's what I'm thinking this time around, and I remember it from last time.  I don't really remember this at all with Michael, and Marko was so much easier because there was only one of him.

Jackie (Jacky??) is firmly established as Not an Easy Baby.  All of my babies have had the unfortunate habit of waking up from naps while they're still tired -- usually after about 45 minutes.  With Marko it was easy, I simply nursed him or rocked him back to sleep and he'd take another hour or so.  But that's an option not open to me now that I have other noisy kids -- once the initial edge of tiredness has been taken off, the slightest noise gets the baby interested in what's going on and they won't go back to sleep for two more hours, no matter how tired and cranky they are.  With Michael my solution was just to have him take 45-minute naps four times a day, which was inconvenient and left him cranky and tired much of the time.  With Miriam I gave up and just held her for all her naps, which about made me lose my mind as well as causing me to neglect my other kids terribly.  And with this one, I haven't yet come up with a solution; I refuse to hold the baby for all her naps again, but I'm not keen on her constantly being cranky and tired all the time either.  I guess the only real solution is Keep Trying, because she occasionally does take a really solid nap of a couple hours.  I love these, but of course I spend the whole time worrying she is crying and I just don't hear her on the monitor, or else perhaps she is dead.  It's just so unusual that I can't quite believe a child would actually sleep that long in the daytime.

2

But she is worse than all the others in one respect, which is that she won't even GO to sleep.  Instead, she drifts off while nursing and then wakes up five minutes later with big bright eyes.  You can rock her to sleep instead, which will work for five minutes before she starts thrashing herself awake.  All the baby advice (besides the idiotically unrealistic "put the baby down awake") says you should hold the baby until they pass into a deep sleep before you put them down.  This is impossible anyway because we never ever get the half hour of relative quiet that this would take, not in this house -- someone always comes right up to me demanding a snack or having a fit or wanting to give the baby "just one kiss!"  But I know it's not just that because she spends all evening doing the same thing after the big kids have gone to bed: nurse, doze, thrash, wake up, fuss because tired, nurse ....  And she can do this for hours because the little snatches of sleep she gets are just enough to tide her over.  Eventually she doesn't even want to nurse anymore and then you're really screwed.

Obviously this doesn't happen every time because she does sometimes sleep.  But for the life of me I don't know the secret.  More awake time before attempting a nap? (Possible.)  More burping?  (Burping wakes her up.)  But the long and short of it is that naps are totally unreliable and also she stays up till eleven pm or even later every night.  She's sometimes willing to sleep in a little late, but that doesn't matter because of course the other kids are up by seven.

The one bright spot is that she reliably sleeps a good three or four hour chunk in the middle of the night.  In fact last night it was almost six hours!  This is truly delightful, especially on those nights when she actually sleeps in her crib instead of on me, but it also has the awful downside that we're not ecologically breastfeeding if she sleeps that long.  I cannot wake her, because I desperately need the sleep, but I fear the eventual result will be an early return of cycles, which, for me, means a nasty hormonal mess as prolactin and progesterone fight for supremacy all month long.  Oh, woe.  But the thought of willfully ending my nighttime bliss, the ONLY time I get to myself, and possibly triggering hours of sleep-wake up-fuss-sleep is just unbearable.

3

Despite how awful she is to deal with, I think I am beginning to bond with her somewhat.  The first week or two I was treating her like a hungry lump, but I realized that if I talk to her and treat her like a person -- even though she does not understand or care -- it helps me feel like she is a person.  I'm also taking lots of pictures, both to help me remember to appreciate her now, and to look back on later, after I do have a relationship with Jackie and want to remember what she looked like as a baby.

Miriam, of course, helps with this a lot by adorably trying to interact with her baby sister.  It seems obvious to me that Jackie either does not care or actively dislikes everything Miriam does -- I mean, getting kissed to within an inch of your life isn't exactly fun for anyone -- but Miriam insists that "her baby" loves it, so, whatever.  I don't mind playing along so long as she's not actually smashing the baby's face.

4

So Marko has been assessed by the school district now.  I didn't know this before, but thanks to IDEA, a federal law, even homeschooled kids are entitled to the same services for disabilities as the kids in school.  This includes assessment for disabilities, provided the school agrees that the child is suffering educationally from them.  That was a little scary because I had to explain to a table full of teachers why I thought Marko needed to be assessed.  Since most of his issues are social, I wasn't sure I'd be able to make my case, but when I pointed out the large number of adaptations I make to our schoolwork (like hanging over his shoulder every minute to keep him on task, and designing our entire curriculum around his obsessions) they said that this was definitely an educational problem as well as a social one.  Especially when I pointed out that he mostly will not talk to grownups and he might want to go to school someday.

This process was full of trials for Marko.  He had to have his eyesight and hearing assessed, read to a reading teacher, get assessed twice by a speech therapist, and have two long assessments by a psychologist.  In addition, both John and I filled out lots of questionnaires.  We got all the results from these assessments in writing, and then I had our eligibility meeting with a big panel of school professionals.  The whole process was scary for both Marko and me, but we got through it okay.  I was impressed with how well Marko did actually manage to communicate with the adults, despite the crying and rolling-around-on-the-floor meltdowns he had beforehand.  We could see, though, from the reports of the different professionals, that he had been very anxious and not done as well as we know he can with us.  Though really I don't suppose it matters -- if he scores low because he can't communicate very well, that's still a problem even if it's not the problem they were testing him for.

In the end they decided that he has "symptoms consistent with autism."  This is not an official diagnosis, but it is enough to make him eligible for special education if he were enrolled in school.  However, there isn't really anything they can do outside of school for him.  Speech therapy is available to homeschooled kids, but the therapist actually said it would not help because his speech problem isn't really a problem with speech itself, but something further inside his head ... she thought it was anxiety, but the psychologist thinks it's in his mental processing.  He has a lot of knowledge but has trouble accessing it quickly when he wants it.  So he might volunteer the information "two plus two is four" on Monday, but that doesn't mean he can produce the answer for me when prompted on Tuesday.  In the same way, it takes him extra time to put together and say a sentence, even if he knows all the words he wants.

At any rate we're assuming, based on this, that he does have ASD.  But that leaves us still stuck on what to do next.  I want to get him officially assessed, but that costs a mint and our fake insurance won't cover a penny of it.  I want therapy for him, but that's also not covered.  If he gets diagnosed, he's eligible for Medicaid which will pay for the therapy, but we can't afford the first step.  It may be that a regular pediatrician will diagnose him on the strength of all the assessment results we have, but they might not think it's enough and then we're out the money we spent for the appointment and are back to square one.  The whole thing is doggone frustrating.

We are seriously considering putting him in school, for next year at least, just so he can get some special help from someone who does know something about autism.  The sad fact is the "one-on-one attention" that is supposed to be the benefit of homeschooling isn't really available at home right now.  His siblings hang around and distract us both.  I've tried giving them work, too, but Marko is always way more interested in what they're doing than in what he's supposed to be doing.  Michael wants to be wherever Marko is, and Miriam wants to be wherever I am, and Jackie is of course attached to me like a tumor half the time.  So ... it's not what you would call an ideal learning environment.  We are making progress all the same, but all these assessments have really taken away my confidence that I'm doing it right, or that even if I'm not, no problem because kids are resilient/there's plenty of time to catch up.  Normal kids might be great at naturally challenging themselves and going for new things, but that's specifically the sort of thing autistic kids struggle with.  They want to stick with what's comfortable and familiar.  There have been times when Marko has a big drive to learn about something, but he hasn't felt that way since we've moved ... and I can't afford to let him learn nothing for a year, you know?  Not if he's already behind.  At the same time I know pushing too hard makes him shut down, and I dread even suggesting to him that we might make him go to school.  He hates the very concept.  I did want him to go to school someday, like in high school maybe, but he does not seem ready now, and he is terrified of other adults, large groups of kids, and being without me.  It's tough.  On Monday we are going for a tour of the school and to watch the special ed classes, so he and I can both see what he'd be in for if we did enroll him.  I think it might be great for him, for his confidence and his social skills and so forth ... but first he'd have to get past that initial terror of change.

I feel very mixed-up about this emotionally.  On the one hand, I love homeschooling.  I don't want to stop.  He's my little boy.  How can I trust other people to take care of him as well as I do?  While on the other hand, I can't help but admit it does kind of appeal, to have one less kid to worry about during the day, and to know he's getting the sort of extra help he needs without my having to neglect the whole rest of the family to give it to him.  And maybe we could go back to homeschooling another year.  I just don't know.  I don't want to be wedded to the idea of homeschooling if it's not working ... but on the other hand, I'm not sure it isn't working.  Yes, there's stuff he struggles with, but would he be doing any better in school?

5

I should say, though, that Marko seems to have pulled out of the rough patch he was in throughout December and January.  He no longer cries a dozen times a day "because he misses that lamp we used to have" or "because he's not excited about anything like he used to be."  I can't remember whether or not I've blogged about that.  My feeling was that he felt upset and sad about the changes in his life and was latching onto small details to explain it.  But he seems a lot happier lately -- fewer tears and fewer meltdowns.  He and Michael have a healthy balance of different obsessions that they pretend about all day -- Harry Potter and My Little Pony mostly, but Minecraft is still getting plenty of attention, and yesterday they surprised me by playing Redwall again, after about a year since it was a major interest.  Another reassuring thing is that he's stopped having so many accidents ... which, given that he has been potty trained for four years now, certainly worry me when they happen.

My friend with two autistic children, who has been a major resource to me right now, asked me the other day what behaviors Marko has that he most needs help with.  What things would we address in therapy, if he had access to therapy?  And I wasn't sure what to say.  He's mostly really great!  I don't actually have a lot that I think he needs to change.  But on the other hand, there are lots of little things.  I wish he would at least try to stay dry at night.  I wish he would more reliably use his fork at meals.  I wish he wouldn't say things "don't even exist" when he doesn't like them.  I wish he would introduce himself to other kids or say hello or goodbye to his friends.  I wish he wouldn't run and hide when a strange adult comes into our house.

Perhaps I should try to encourage these things more -- arrange more playdates, with prior coaching about how he can say hello to the other kids.  Go to story time at the library and ask him to say hello to the librarian.  The trouble is that he just doesn't want to try these things, and I'm not sure how to get him to cooperate.  He told me the other day that he has one friend and that is enough, he doesn't want to meet any more people ever.  Yet I suspect he would really enjoy having more friends if he would get past the initial fear of meeting them.

It's just so hard to know when to push and when to give him some space.

6

Michael is my relaxing child right now.  He has no real issues.  He's not even a little bit anxious or neurotic.  Sometimes he throws a fit, and normal decent parenting works to de-escalate it.  He had a tendency to be rude, I have been reminding him about please and thank you, and he's started saying those things very reliably.  He often gives me a hug and kiss for no reason, or a big smile and a hello.  He's suddenly taken an interest in letters and seems to know a great deal more than I've ever consciously taught him.  I do not worry at all about him.

And Miriam, aside from her tendency to maul the baby with love, has been doing fine as well.  She occasionally asks to nurse, I offer a book instead, and she's fine with that.  I really wish she could talk in a volume under a shout, or play independently EVER, but, well, she's two.  She's slept through the night for many nights recently, though not for the past couple.  Anyway it seems she is making progress on that.

We've had some really nice weather for a few days, which is such a help.  I can kick the kids outside while the baby naps and rid myself of all the stress I normally have about the noise they're making.  (I am not sure the noise they make makes any difference to how much the baby naps, but I always worry it will.)  So they run around being completely bananas, the baby naps for her brief moments, and I get some peace and quiet to drink tea and read mystery novels.  (Dorothy Sayers; highly recommend.)

Jacky giving big sister the stiff arm

7

And how am I doing?  Eh, I've been better.  I've also been worse, so, bright side there.  Sometimes I am totally fine.  Days when Jackie naps are delightful.  I do some chores, lavish attention on my big kids, and then have some wonderful time to myself.  Days she does not nap are horrible.  I get so touched-out, I want to crawl out of my own skin.  I start feeling irrationally angry at the world.  I put all my hopes on Jackie actually napping later on, and then when she fails to do it, I get even more angry because of the disappointment.  I am very proud of myself that I haven't yelled much or hit anybody at all, even when they are totally responsible for waking the baby.  I figure so long as I can keep my ticked-off feelings from affecting anyone else, they're no different from a headache -- just something I have to get through.

I just wish there were a cure for them other than long periods of quiet and no-touching.  Exercise does help, but since I'm not fully recovered from childbirth, I probably shouldn't knock myself out with long walks or vacuuming or whatever.  At any rate hopefully I can start some exercise soon, and then maybe I'll feel better.

When I'm not feeling angry, I cycle through all the other bad feelings.  I've had a few days of inexplicable sadness, a few days of excessive anxiety, a few days of intrusive thoughts.  The intrusive thoughts are probably the worst: I can't seem to get my mind off the possibility of some gruesome thing happening to the baby, or the fact that I will someday die.  Or I think about how great my life would be right now if Jackie had never been born, and then feel overwhelmed with guilt.

But the anxiety has been bad some days too.  I always thought religion was no comfort in distress until I lost it; now I can see just how crippling anxiety is when you don't think there's anyone to bail you out, or any long-run plan which will make it all worthwhile.  Basically it means there is no one looking out for your kids besides you, so you have to make sure you worry about All The Things, certain in the knowledge that if you fail, it means the extinction of everything your child is or could someday be, which will be 100% your fault.  If it were just a matter of my preferences, I'd love to believe this stuff were out of my hands.

Despite all the various kinds of sadfeels, I also feel happy sometimes.  This nice weather is great, and every time I am able to spend some time just sitting under the open sky, I feel very happy and relaxed.  Of course it's only five minutes before I hear the baby cry on the monitor, or Miriam starts demanding I go into the magnolia tree with her and play house, but it's something.  I also find a lot of relaxation in reading; I might not be able to knit or spin while holding the baby, but I can read for hours and it helps distract me from the "ahhhhhh someone's always touching me!!!!" thing.

As during pregnancy, I have to focus on either the moment or the long view.  I can't think of the months ahead when I will still be dealing with all the same things I am dealing with today.  I have to remember that by midsummer I will have a baby who can sit up in a high chair and let me eat my dinner with two hands.  Or that within a year, my little girls will be playing with each other for real.  Conversely, I can stay in the moment, and think "hey, right now the baby is sleeping and I am able to write this blog post!"  Nothing worse than a whole nap going by and you realize you never appreciated it, but only scrolled mindlessly through facebook getting mad at strangers.



And how have you all been?

Jackie's birth story

Trigger warning: If you've had awful, long, traumatic births, you might hate me after reading this.  And if you have never had a baby, do not choose to have one on the basis of this birth story!  They are mostly not like this!

The week before Jackie's due date was emotionally draining.  Every day I'd wake up thinking "maybe today!" and every night was a letdown of "guess not."  Did not make it better that I had painful contractions sporadically throughout the day, and quite a few every evening.  Those were one of the reasons I quit dreading labor and started wanting it to happen so it could be over -- if I was going to be in pain anyway, I wanted it to just get worse so it could get over.

Passing Tuesday was a particular letdown; four days early was when Miriam came and I had had in my head that Jackie would be born sometime between my earliest (Michael, two weeks early) and latest.  I started asking myself, "What if I go PAST my due date?"  And, "What if this labor is nothing like my previous labors, but long and complicated?"  I worried about having to be induced.  I worried about having a c-section.  I googled "what percentage of women go into labor by 40 weeks?"  Every day I worried about letting John go to work for fear I'd go into labor while he was gone.

At the same time, I felt bad that I was wishing away the time.  I don't believe in wishing away a moment of my life, but at the same time, some moments are no fun!  I tried to live the last few days with focus, working on projects and paying attention to my kids, and I mostly was able to do that despite my frustration.

Thursday night, we went to bed feeling, yet again, frustrated it hadn't happened.  Friday would be my due date, and so I had a vague hope it would happen, but no particular reason to think it would -- nothing that could be taken as a clear labor sign.

But at about 2:45 am, while I was lying down with Miriam, nursing her back to sleep, I had a strong contraction.  This didn't alarm me, because nursing her often gave me contractions, even quite painful ones.  I had a second very shortly after, which surprised me a bit, but I figured it was very likely nothing.  I visited the bathroom on the way back to bed, and had a third contraction before I left, and that was the point at which I thought, "Gosh, three really strong ones in under ten minutes, could this be it?"

I got back in bed and tried to sleep, knowing that the real difference between real labor and false is that false labor goes away if you rest, and the real thing never does.  And for ten minutes I felt nothing, so I started to figure it wasn't happening after all, and began to drift off.  But then they started up again -- 5-8 minutes apart, not entirely regular, but definitely painful enough that I was starting to want to get out of bed.  (The other big difference between real and false labor being that false labor makes me want to be still, and real labor makes me not able to be still.)  I stayed put for a little longer, figuring I'd let John catch just a bit more sleep, but at 3:30 I woke him up.

He instantly got wide awake and we got the room ready for the birth.  Then, worried we'd wake the kids, we went down to the family room.  I planned to spend early labor down there but go up in time to actuallly give birth in my own room.  We called up the midwife and she said she'd hurry over.  For about half an hour I paced around, leaning on the back of the couch when I had a contraction.  They weren't all that bad -- I mean, they hurt, but with five minutes between them, it was no trouble coping.  In between them I knitted or chatted with John -- basically just keeping my mind in the present so I didn't freak out about the next contraction or how things would get worse.  I definitely had some adrenaline rushing around -- my heart was pounding and my hands shook a bit -- but I was able to read this as excitement and keep fear at bay.  This is a huge improvement over the last two labors, which I mostly spent panicking.

The midwife made it over in record time -- afraid she'd miss the whole thing if she delayed.  She got there a few minutes after four o'clock and was relieved to see I was doing just fine -- pacing around, having contractions, but quiet and calm during them.  They were certainly picking up speed though -- I remember commenting that I had been expecting a five-minute break and was put out to get only three.  John rubbed my back during the contractions, which helped a little. The main thing that helped was to keep swaying and moving.

The midwife (she told me later) texted her two assistants soon after she arrived that I was in labor.  They texted back, "Let us know when you want us to come!"  She texted, "GET IN THE CAR NOW."  After last time's quick labor, she wasn't taking any chances!

It was about 4:45 when they arrived.  They took a look at me and said something like, "Guess we didn't need to rush after all."  But the midwife said appearances were deceiving and we'd better head upstairs.  I agreed -- though I was still externally quite calm, the contractions were pretty intense and close together.  I wanted to get up to my room while I was still getting long enough breaks to climb the stairs!

Immediately on getting to the bedroom I had another big contraction.  Everyone was bustling around unpacking the birth kit, but I had my hands locked onto the side of the crib trying to cope with the pain, which was definitely getting bad by now.  John looked at the clock, which read a few minutes to five, and said "we're not making it to six."  I said, "You don't know that," not because I really disagreed but because I felt it would be really discouraging to have a deadline in my head and then possibly not meet it.  When the contraction was over, I wanted to go to the bathroom one last time (because I knew we were getting close) but before I could take two steps toward the bathroom, another big one hit.  In this one, I started making noise, leaning on John and whimpering because it was getting BAD.  But I still managed to keep from getting discouraged. I wasn't thinking it was close to the end or anything like that, I just was keeping my mind in the present ... something I've had lots of practice with in the past nine months!  I remembered at some point to focus on my breathing and while that didn't exactly help, it did seem to make the contraction pass faster.

Again, no more than a few seconds passed before the next one, and I commented that I was feeling that running-away feeling -- the feeling like there was something I was supposed to be doing to escape from the pain, but there isn't anything.  There was intense pressure building up and I wanted to find a position to escape from it, but this time I remembered what this feeling meant -- "you're going to have to push soon."  I wanted to try a little pushing, but I never had gotten a chance to use the bathroom and was afraid I'd pee myself.  (I'd whipped my pants off when I went upstairs, because the waistband felt too tight (BIG CLUE that I was starting to feel pressure).)  But during that contraction, the pressure was just crazy and I thought, "To heck with it, I'm going to just give it a little try."  Gave a little push and there was a massive SPLOOOSH!  My water broke, all over the floor and John's socks.

Everyone started pushing me to get on the bed.  I didn't want to because I wanted to wait for the end of the contraction, but they were all very insistent so, still pushing (because I couldn't stop at this point) I climbed onto the bed.  And while I was doing this I felt .... the baby crowning.  I was staggered, because I mean, really, but I didn't really have time to think about it because she was COMING OUT!  I just kept pushing and she came shooting out.  The midwife passed her between my legs and laid her on the bed (I guess I was on all fours? or kneeling?).  I just kind of stared at first ... like, wait, what?  Then I tried to pick her up and couldn't because she was totally coated in vernix and really slick.  The midwife said she hadn't checked if it was a boy or girl, so I managed to roll her over, and -- she was a girl!  It was 5:04 -- we'd been upstairs for probably ten minutes.

She was also making a noise like an air-raid siren, which is new to me.  My babies have all made a noise to let us know they were breathing, but they didn't SHRIEK.  And I worried of course that someone was going to wake up with all that racket.  Everyone helped me turn over and recline on the bed.  I wanted to nurse her, but the cord was too short and we weren't cutting it yet, so I just held her on my belly and listened to her howl like a banshee.  It was kind of stressful but I still felt relieved and happy.  I was just staggered with how easy the whole thing had been -- barely more than two hours, and really only the last ten minutes had been all that bad.  I felt like laughing at myself for having dreaded labor so much when that was all it was.  And, of course, so relieved not to be pregnant anymore.

The placenta came out without trouble, and I was able to nurse Jackie for the first time.  The midwife checked me out and found that, for the first time, I didn't need stitches (though I had a tiny superficial tear).  I had been so sure I must have torn terribly with her coming out so fast, but apparently not!  Even though, as we found out a few minutes later, she was my biggest baby by half a pound.

And ... that was it!  Around 5:30 Michael woke up, and after giving him some breakfast, John let him come say hello to Jackie.  Marko woke up a bit later and John just let him eat and go play, because springing a new baby he didn't want on him first thing in the morning seemed kind of harsh -- though he did come in about an hour later (to see ME, not the baby, he made sure to mention).  Miriam woke up unusually late at almost eight o'clock, and she was SO HAPPY OH MY GOSH.  Climbed all over the bed in a tizzy demanding to see "her friend Jackie."  It was super cute but eventually John had to peel her off me and get her to eat breakfast and go play.

And how have things gone subsequently? Well, we'll see if I ever have time to post about it.  Your biggest clue is that it took me a whole week to get the time to write this story.  Let's just say, Jackie hasn't been super easy so far.  It's mostly that she's had some issues with latching, exacerbated by my massive oversupply, but her tendency to let out the air-raid siren every time she's mildly discontented is another part of it.  However, I'm tentatively hopeful that the worst is behind us, because my milk supply is regulating and she is latching on much more reliably.  She is even DOWN right now.  She has been napping ON HER OWN for over an hour!  Considering John went back to work today, it's not a moment too soon.

My apologies for having a "propaganda birth" -- the kind you'd show childless women to convince them that labor is not so bad, they can totally do it drug free.  Remember that I claim zero credit for this -- it's not like I'm "good at labor."  Labor, this time, was good to me.  I kinda feel like the universe owed me ONE stroke of good luck, considering.  I'll take it and be thankful, because hey -- you can't look a gift universe in the mouth.

Jacqueline Irene

Jacqueline Irene
Born 5ish in the morning on her due date
7 lbs 8 oz - my biggest
Short and relatively easy labor; I still feel pretty wiped out though
Kids love her - even Marko seems okay with her
Parents have decided she's cute enough to keep and will not be leaving her on the church doorstep
More details to follow