So, it’s been a rough week or so at the chubby household. Something is wrong with me, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.
We’ve been having so many problems with Mason spitting up. Everyone keeps saying it’s normal…..but my fading maternal instincts don’t agree. He regurgitates after every feeding, after every burping, and every time we lay him down. I change the bassinet bedding twice during the night, and he goes through at least 3 outfits each day (not including the bib he soaks at each feeding). It’s enough to soak through a burp rag, which is actually a cloth diaper thrown haphazardly on my shoulder. And it used to be the fresh formula that came up – now it’s sour smelling.
He’s still pooping enough, but he seems to be gaining weight really slowly. At 7 weeks, he only weighs 10 pounds and 9 ounces. He’ll go for his 2 month checkup and shots on November 4th, so I guess I’ll find out more then.
In the interim, we decided to change him to soy formula. We had been feeding him Nestle Good Start in the orange can, and I started switching him over to the Nestle Good Start soy formula. For right now, I’m mixing it 50/50; and I’m already seeing waaaay less spit up. The soy stuff seems creamier and heavier, so I’m assuming it sinks into his belly and stays put a little better than the regular formula. I hope it works. My biggest concern, though, is that soy formula can lead to constipation; and I really don’t want the little guy all bound up. He’s crabby enough now – I can’t imagine how miserable he’d be if he couldn’t poop.
Making matters worse, I’ve had it up to here with my husband CONSTANTLY second guessing me. He questions every move I make, and it’s taken away any shred of maternal instincts I had left. When the baby cries, I can get him to quiet down eventually by sitting in a dark quiet room, giving him a pacifier, and singing to him. Inevitably, Dave will come in and suggest I put him in the swing. Or in his bassinet. Or give him a bottle. If I don’t follow his “advice”, he gets all pissy with me. But if I do bow down to his royal highness’ wishes, the baby starts screaming and I have to start all over again.
And the worst part? I’m sure he’s started hiding the pacifiers from me. Ever since his mother got on him about our “lazy parenting”, he refuses to use one and gives me the evil eye whenever I resort to giving one to Mason. Um, hello, our baby is screaming his effing head off in our living room; while your self-righteous mother is 3,000 miles away wallowing in her own misery. I certainly don’t need her approval to quiet my son; and can’t believe he still takes her opinions to heart.
And I still don’t feel bonded to the baby. My God, it’s been seven weeks. How much longer is this going to take????? He’s just so grumpy all the time. I keep waiting for the doorbell to ring, and a hospital representative to walk in and say, “Oh, sorry lady, this crabby little monster isn’t really your baby. We gave you the wrong one. Here’s your happy, smiling, mellow little guy.”. And we’d all live happily ever after.
I had my 6-week postpartum visit with The Gynie God last week, and I probably should have mentioned something to him. I was too busy asking for birth control pills and fending off his suggestions for an IUD. He also told us to use extra precautions if we have nookie this first month, because it may take that long for the pills to be effective. As if I have any interest at all in fooling around these days. I just wanted the pills to regulate my periods.
I know the pills are partially to blame for my mood swings; but I still feel like I’m failing the baby somehow. He never seems happy to see me – he cries from the moment he wakes up and I get his diaper changed until I warm his bottle and shove it in his mouth. And he pushes away from me when I try to hold him – he prefers to lay by himself on the floor. I keep trying; but it’s not getting any easier. I should have stayed on birth control pills forever and stuck to raising dogs.
But then I look at this, and remind myself to shut the hell up and be grateful for what I have.
