Being a mother is one of the most rewarding experiences ever. To look at my baby girl and get the biggest grin is an awesome feeling. I don't know if it is typical for seven-week-old babies to consciously smile and do so consistently, but this one does and I love it. It's reassuring to think that she's happy, that we must be doing something right.
But enough gush-iness, it's different having a another body in the house, especially one that is so little and delicate. We've had to take many precautions to make sure that we don't hurt the little one, like holding her head and making sure her face isn't covered so she can breathe. Many child-rearing experts look down on allowing your child to sleep in the bed with you and it only makes sense, right? I mean, it's hard enough to get used to another body in the house, much less in the bed when you're sleeping. Some people are okay with the co-sleeping concept though, arguing that it encourages bonding and makes the baby feel safe. Well, Chandler and I are not okay with co-sleeping with Waverly; however, there have been times when we have let her sleep on one of our chests while we laid in bed, taking every caution to not fall asleep and put her in her own bed when she's calm. But that still doesn't stop us from our "Where's the baby?" moments, as we have dubbed them. It's those times when I've woken up in a panic as the baby disappeared from my arms while laying in bed with us, even though she's been in her bed all night. I remember the first time it happened, we had been home for just a couple of weeks. I sat straight up in bed in a panic, asking, "Where's the baby?!" Chandler's reply, "Right here," as he taps his bare chest. Haha! Guess that's what happens when you haven't had any sleep. And it definitely wasn't the last time that happened; in fact, I had one of those moments just the other night when I thought Chandler's arm was the baby and freaked out that she was being suffocated between us. Co-sleeping is definitely not for the Snyder family haha.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Versus
In my quest to raise our child in the proper, socially acceptable way, my ideals and priorities constantly change based on things I read or conversations I have with other mothers; it seems that every week I am obsessed with some other aspect of her upbringing until I finally throw up my hands and do what I think is best. Why am I using "my" and "I"? Because Chandler has it all worked out: keep Waverly alive, fed, happy, and safe, whatever it takes. Why can't I just be content with that too? Maybe because I make things harder than they need be, maybe because I want to do everything perfectly "right"?
My first obsession: breast feeding. Everybody is doing it these days and it's only natural that I should do it too; however, I wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect. Nonetheless, I read a few books and picked up one in particular written by those loving referred to as the "nipple nazis" (excuse my lack of political correctness... it's my blog). I was told that my baby and I would be a "nursing couple" (insert gag reflex here) and that I should ideally nurse for her first one to two years of her life. I could never hold her too much; in fact, I should just carry her around with me in a sling everywhere I go or better yet, surgically attach her to my hip. I'm not much of a clingy person anyway and while I love my daughter more than anything in this world and would fetch her the moon and stars if she asked, I want her to be somewhat independent, like content to lay in her boppy or go to sleep on her own at bedtime. Plus, I need a little disengagement for my own sanity.
Then I had a few conversations with other mothers, one being my own mom, and for them, breast feeding was not the experience I had read about, but encouraged me to try it since it is what I wanted to do. I specifically remember my mom telling me that when I was born, formula feeding was the trend and the big dilemma for each mom was horrid white, high-top shoes that provided ankle support...? Ridiculous if you ask me. Anyway, I had read up on all of the health benefits as well understanding the economic benefits and for me, breast feeding was more of a necessity than a desire; maybe like the shoes. I'm sure my ankles and legs are so much stronger from wearing them and I wouldn't be where I am today without them.
I tried it and things didn't go as well as I had hoped, so I stopped and Waverly was on formula after two weeks. I felt overwhelming guilt and this decision consumed my thoughts and conversations; however, once Waverly started gaining weight and seemed to carry a more pleasant disposition, I felt increasingly better about my decision and tensions started to ease here at home. That's not to say that I won't try with the next baby.
My second obsession: her schedule. I referenced a couple of the books I already owned and read another book completely focused on putting the baby on a schedule, how to do it, and why it's important. This book was quite different than the breast feeding book that I got halfway through and set aside. The authors encouraged a parent-directed schedule that would remain the same day after day and at a certain point in the baby's life, you let the baby "cry it out" at nap time. I actually liked this book because, having siblings much younger than me, I remember them being on somewhat of a daily routine and had talked to other mothers who agreed that it was essential, but to be flexible.
Needless to say, I want to do everything right, so I set her on a schedule, but let me tell you, it was stressful.
Really, who am I kidding? I am too exhausted to think on this post anymore than I already have; it's been a particularly difficult day. Bottom line: She is formula-fed and on a pretty particular schedule; she's growing like a weed, way too fast for my liking, but is alive, fed, happy, and safe. I'm sure I'll have plenty more to trip me up over the years, I just hope I take it more in stride than I have so far.
My first obsession: breast feeding. Everybody is doing it these days and it's only natural that I should do it too; however, I wasn't exactly thrilled with the prospect. Nonetheless, I read a few books and picked up one in particular written by those loving referred to as the "nipple nazis" (excuse my lack of political correctness... it's my blog). I was told that my baby and I would be a "nursing couple" (insert gag reflex here) and that I should ideally nurse for her first one to two years of her life. I could never hold her too much; in fact, I should just carry her around with me in a sling everywhere I go or better yet, surgically attach her to my hip. I'm not much of a clingy person anyway and while I love my daughter more than anything in this world and would fetch her the moon and stars if she asked, I want her to be somewhat independent, like content to lay in her boppy or go to sleep on her own at bedtime. Plus, I need a little disengagement for my own sanity.
Then I had a few conversations with other mothers, one being my own mom, and for them, breast feeding was not the experience I had read about, but encouraged me to try it since it is what I wanted to do. I specifically remember my mom telling me that when I was born, formula feeding was the trend and the big dilemma for each mom was horrid white, high-top shoes that provided ankle support...? Ridiculous if you ask me. Anyway, I had read up on all of the health benefits as well understanding the economic benefits and for me, breast feeding was more of a necessity than a desire; maybe like the shoes. I'm sure my ankles and legs are so much stronger from wearing them and I wouldn't be where I am today without them.
I tried it and things didn't go as well as I had hoped, so I stopped and Waverly was on formula after two weeks. I felt overwhelming guilt and this decision consumed my thoughts and conversations; however, once Waverly started gaining weight and seemed to carry a more pleasant disposition, I felt increasingly better about my decision and tensions started to ease here at home. That's not to say that I won't try with the next baby.
My second obsession: her schedule. I referenced a couple of the books I already owned and read another book completely focused on putting the baby on a schedule, how to do it, and why it's important. This book was quite different than the breast feeding book that I got halfway through and set aside. The authors encouraged a parent-directed schedule that would remain the same day after day and at a certain point in the baby's life, you let the baby "cry it out" at nap time. I actually liked this book because, having siblings much younger than me, I remember them being on somewhat of a daily routine and had talked to other mothers who agreed that it was essential, but to be flexible.
Needless to say, I want to do everything right, so I set her on a schedule, but let me tell you, it was stressful.
Really, who am I kidding? I am too exhausted to think on this post anymore than I already have; it's been a particularly difficult day. Bottom line: She is formula-fed and on a pretty particular schedule; she's growing like a weed, way too fast for my liking, but is alive, fed, happy, and safe. I'm sure I'll have plenty more to trip me up over the years, I just hope I take it more in stride than I have so far.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Happy 1 Month Birthday, little girl!
Blackmail. Haha.
Chandler's great idea: Take Waverly's monthly picture with numbers found around town.
Golf Club of the Bluegrass, Harrodsburg Road
Monday, April 5, 2010
Baby's First Easter
This is one "first" in Waverly's life that will never be forgotten, even if I didn't have it recorded in words or pictures. Sadly, her first Easter is the day we buried my Papaw. He battled Parkinson's Disease (a degenerative disease that essentially breaks down the central nervous system) for fifteen years, give or take a few years, then about a month ago came down with pneumonia. On March 31, it all got the best of him and he passed away that morning. It's comforting to know that he was saved and is finally disease-free and with the Lord; however, for those of us left behind, it's sad that he's gone.
We went to Porter for Easter service and enjoyed showing Waverly off in her pink dress and adorable white sweater, then went to breakfast with my mom and fam, then headed up to Olive Hill, in eastern Kentucky, for Papaw's funeral. Here are a few pictures from the day...
We went to Porter for Easter service and enjoyed showing Waverly off in her pink dress and adorable white sweater, then went to breakfast with my mom and fam, then headed up to Olive Hill, in eastern Kentucky, for Papaw's funeral. Here are a few pictures from the day...
Tribute to Big 'Cuz
Mamaw and Waverly
Me: "Mamaw, have a seat here if you need to."
Mamaw: "Oh, I don't need to sit down!" And she proceeds to show Waverly off at every table.
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