a letter to jude

Dear Jude,

Today, you are five months old. For five months we've been able to see you grow, develop, and learn with our own eyes. As I'm typing this, I'm watching you play in your Exersaucer. Where just a couple of weeks ago you had to stretch your toes to touch the bottom, your feet now rest flat and you're enjoying kicking them up and suspending yourself in the seat.

You've had a big month, sweet boy, filled with lots of "firsts." You rolled from your back to your tummy for the first time about a week ago. I think you would've done it sooner, but that cloth diaper gives your booty some extra weight to haul over! I was on the phone, making a Doctor's appointment, when you did it. Jude, you were so proud of yourself and quickly looked up to see if I noticed what you just did. I wanted to exclaim and shout, "yay!" but I'm sure the receptionist would've thought I was crazy. You also got your first hair cut this month! You had some crazy old man whispies behind your ears that flared straight out no matter what we did. Daddy finally decided it was time to cut it, so he trimmed it with his beard trimmer (with the safety on) while I held you. I think it tickled a little when we cut some of the hairs in the back, but you did so great! Almost all of the brunette hair with which you were born is now gone, and you're officially blond now. I was surprised by how bittersweet the trimming was - I got a little teary eyed as I was thinking about the hair that you grew in my womb. Nonetheless - you're one cute little blondie.
Finally, you had your first taste of "real" food this month! I made butternut squash, and you seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. We're now officially entering into the world of bibs, spoons, high chairs, and the airplane zoomy noise. I have a feeling this stage will be even more fun than the last.

Every day that you grow gives Daddy and I more glimpses into your personality. You have a very sweet heart that is sometimes tender and I even think compassionate, and you have a strength of will that is astounding. You now spend much of your day smiling and laughing, lighting up when Daddy and I make faces at you. You're starting to recognize the faces of people you see on a regular basis, and you really enjoy watching other kids. I have several favorite memories from the past month. It's hard to choose just a couple, but here goes:

- One day, you and I laid down on the bed, on our sides, facing each other. I was singing you songs, and you were amusing yourself with trying to get your fingers to my face. Right now, your favorite song in the world is "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." No matter how angry and worked up you are, that song will calm you down - even if only temporarily. You seem to find it hilarious when the spider gets washed out, you're in awe of the sun coming out, and at the end of the song you always look at me like, "Wow, Mommy. That old spider sure does have a lot of perseverance." In close second for your favorite song are, "The Wheels On The Bus," and "Victory In Jesus" (you especially like to hear about the mansions He has built for you in glory). Anyway, I'm getting severely sidetracked. I was singing "The Wheels On The Bus," and you were just cracking up when the bumps on the bus went up and down. Our faces were close to each other, and every time you laughed you reached out to my face to pull it close to yours. I'm pretty sure I sang that verse through five or six times because I was loving the sound of your giggle.

-You've started to imitate Daddy and I- very cool and very scary. You're working on making raspberries, and I love watching you do it the same way we do it.

-On nights when Daddy is home, he gets you naked and I get the bath water ready on bath nights. One night you guys were taking longer than usual. When I went to check on you Daddy had you - butt naked - dancing on the changing table to "Bootylicious." Daddy was singing, "I don't think you're ready for this, Mommy. I don't think you're ready for this, Mommy. I don't think you're read for this, 'cause my body's too bootylicious for ya, Mom." At least we're giving you plenty of fodder for your therapist.

You're a great kid, Jude and I have no doubt that God is working in you even now to reveal and execute His plan for you. Even at five months old, I can see Him molding you. I hope you know how much you're loved, I hope you understand how much Daddy and I cherish you, and I hope you sense that you are safe and adored. We love you forever, sweet boy.

Love,

Mommy and Daddy

Coletrane and Me

I love our dog. He's a royal pain in the tush sometimes, but I do ultimately love him. He was my napping partner in pregnancy, curling up on the end of the bed while I napped early in pregnancy, and curling up right next to me on the guest bed when I found myself on bedrest towards the end. He let me cry right into his furry neck when I was overwhelmed and scared at the possibility of having a pre term baby, and he diligently keeps me safe when Shawn is out of town (even if he is a little over zealous in what constitutes a threat...he was very concerned about a snowman across the street one afternoon).

But about two or three weeks after we brought Jude home, I found myself hating our dog. Loathing him. I could barely walk for about a month after birth, so my Mom and then Shawn's parents took primary care of Cole while they were here. Shawn was able to take care of him most of the time after that, but once I could walk and I was home by myself most of the day with Jude and Cole, I almost couldn't stand the sight of him. One time he started pooping in the house, and Jude was screaming his head off. I was so frustrated that I just opened our back door and let Cole loose in our fenceless backyard. I ashamedly admit that I was half hoping that he'd just run off. To my dismay, he ran to the back of the yard, did his business, and came right back inside. Cole has an uncanny ability to decide to be particulary mischevious when my hands are full with Jude. He would bark just as soon as I got Jude down for a nap, or he would start chewing on something he shouldn't while I was breastfeeding and couldn't chase him down. Even when Cole would shake - jangling his ears and dog tag- right outside Jude's bedroom door, threatening to wake him - I would get so mad at him I'd clench my teeth, shake my fist at him, grab him by the collar, and drag him to his crate. I just couldn't handle him.

I knew my frustration with him was most likely projected frustration with Jude. After all, I couldn't really get upset at a helpless infant for not sleeping, but I COULD blame Cole. I couldn't take my sense of being overwhelmed and frustration at getting so little sleep out on Jude - but I could take it out on Cole. I couldn't yell at Jude when he was crying...and crying...and crying...but I could yell at Cole. Shawn noticed my increasingly short temper with Cole, and bought me the book "Marley and Me" for Christmas. It's an easy read, and I read it out loud while I was nursing Jude, so I worked through it pretty quickly. The story details the couple's marriage and then purchase of Marley...a hyperactive lab who was dubbed the world's worst dog. The wife (Jenny) was put on bedrest with their second child because of a risk of preterm labor (sound familiar?), and dealt with some postpartum depression after the birth. About three months after Jude was born, I read this excerpt from the book:

Complicating the sleep-deprived chaos that was our lives, our new baby had us terribly worried. Already underweight, Conor was unable to keep nourishment down. Jenny was on a single-minded quest to nurse him to robust health, and he seemed equally intent on foiling her. She would offer him her breast, and he would oblige her, sucking hungrily. Then, in one quick heave, he would throw it all up. She would nurse him again; he would eat ravenously, then empy his stomach yet again. Projectile vomiting became an hourly occurence in our lives. The doctors diagnosed reflux...Conor would eventually outgrow the condition and catch up on his weight, but for four long months we were consumed with worry over him. Jenny was a basket case of fear and stress and frustration, all exacerbated by lack of sleep, as she nursed him nearly nonstop and then watched helpess as he tossed her milk back at her. "I feel so inadequate," she would say. "Moms are supposed to be able to give their babies everything they need." Her fuse was as short as I had seen it, and the smallest infractions - a cupboard door left open, crumbs on the counter - would set her off.

The good news was that Jenny never once took out her anxiety on either baby. In fact, she nurtured both of them with almost obsessive care and patience. She poured every ounce of herself into them. The bad news was that she directed her frustration and anger at me and even more at Marley. She had lost all patience with him. He was squarely in her crosshairs and could do no right. Each transgression - and there continued to be many - pushed Jenny a little closer to the edge. Oblivious, Marley stayed the course with his antics and misdeeds and boundless jubilence...When he crashed through our small home, the bull in our china closest, I followed behind him, straightening throw rugs, righting coffee tables, and wiping up the spittle he flung on the walls. Before Jenny discovered them, I would race to vacuum up the wood chips in the garage where he had gouged the door once again. I stayed up late in the night patching and sanding so by morning when Jenny awoke the lastest damage would be covered over. "For God's sake, Marley, do you have a death wish?" I said to him one night as he stood at my side, tail wagging, licking my ear as I knelt and repaired the most recent destruction. "You've got to stop this."

It was into this volatile environment that I walked one evening. I opened the front door to find Jenny beating Marley with her fists. She was crying uncontrollably and flailing wildly at him, more like she was pounding a kettledrum than imposing a beating, landing glancing blows on his back and shoulders and neck. "Why? Why do you do this?" she screamed at him. "Why do you wreck everything?" Marley stood with his head down and legs splayed as though leaning into a hurricane. He didn't try to flee or dodge the blows; he just stood there and took each one without whimper or complaint. "Hey! Hey! Hey!" I shouted, grabbing her wrists. "Come on. Stop. Stop!" She was sobbing and gasping for breath. "Stop," I repeated. I stepped between her and Marley and shoved my face directly in front of hers. It was like a stranger was staring back at me. I did not recognize the look in her eyes. "Get him out of here," she said, her voice flat and tinged with a quiet burn. "Get him out of here now."

I can't say that I was entirely surprised when I found myself showing signs of postpartum depression. Shawn and I had talked a lot about how we would handle it if it did become an issue, and I talked to a few friends at length who dealt with it. We knew that it was temporary, mostly hormonal, and not something that was anyone's "fault." Still, I was surprised by the intensity of it, and my helplessness to change it or move past it. I was overwhelmed and didn't know how to deal with the stress, so I shut down. The feelings of being overwhelmed were honestly too much for me to handle, so I shut down ALL emotions so that I didn't have to deal with the stressful ones. I was flat, mostly monotone, and emotionless. Even Shawn asking what I wanted for dinner was too much. I felt like I was making a million decisions every ten minutes, unsure if any single one was the right one. I felt like I was forever trying to guess at the right thing, always fearful that my guess was wrong. Trying to decide what to have for dinner on top of that? Forget it. Mundane decisions were enough to break me down because I was already feeling the load of guessing and deciding and guessing again, and deciding something different. I distinctly remember being almost scared to be in crowds - especially church. I did my best to fake being happy and confident, but I knew someone would notice. I hated making small talk - my mind felt like a huge fuzzy mess - making small talk was way beyond what I could handle.

My brain was foggy, my eyes were empty, my voice was flat, and my emotions were nonexistent. Sometimes I would crack, though. I quietly cried myself to sleep after being up with Jude in the wee hours of the night for two or three weeks. After a few particularly trying nights, I'd wake Shawn up, hand Jude to him, and heave huge sobs of inadequacy, doubt, frustration, anxiety, and sadness. Poor Shawn didn't know who to deal with first - his screaming infant or sobbing wife. I was helpless to change the way I was dealing with my new stress, but for the life of me, I couldn't make myself feel emotion, smile, or get excited about much. Jude was a couple weeks late at smiling, and I deeply worried that he was stunted because I didn't smile enough at him. The first time he smiled at me was on his changing table, and I rested my head on the edge of the changing mat and cried. I was so relieved. It's a frustrating feeling - to want to be happy, but to feel incapable. I suppose I thought that to allow any emotion in would mean that I'd have to deal with the emotions of being overwhelmed, and well...I didn't have the luxury of time for a breakdown.

I felt like I was last on the list, and I resented Cole a little bit for even being before me on that list. When I could sit Jude down for a minute or two, Cole needed tending. Forget grabbing a quick shower, eating lunch, or even changing out of my pjs...Cole had to poop, needed food, needed water, or was barking like a maniac. I never wailed on Cole like Jenny did Marley, but I did take most of my frustrations out on him. The puppy never seemd to mind. He took my anger, screams, and mutters of "stupid dog" in stride. The only thing he seemed to do differently was to desire to be by my side (and underfoot) more, which only served to add to my frustration. No amount of yelling, pushing, or ignoring was enough to stop that dang dog from loving me uncoditionally.

I wish I knew exactly how it was that I came through postpartum depression. To be honest, I wish I knew that it's completely in the past. I still feel overwhelmed, but I try to handle those feelings a little differently. I run two or three times a week, and use that time to problem solve, to zone out, to vent frustration, and to just get away. I focus on eating healthfully and try to get as many fruits and veggies in my diet as I can. I do my best to talk openly with Shawn and my Mom when I find myself feeling helplessly overwhelmed again, and I head to the coffee shop or grab a bath when time allows. I started noticing that my ability to handle the stress was directly linked to how much sleep I was getting, so I let Shawn get up with Jude if I know he's not waking up out of hunger. Beyond that, my advice to anyone finding themselves in the middle of postpartum depression that isn't severe (if you have the desire to hurt yourself, your baby, or anyone else, please see a doctor now) would be to do your best to keep healthy, get rest, talk openly about it, take as much as possible off of your plate, and then wait it out. The hormones will balance eventually and you'll soon find yourself realizing that you've gone an entire week without a meltdown.

Shawn's not here as I write this, so I won't even attempt to describe what it's like from his perspective. I know it's not easy, though. I know he sometimes feels like he can't ever do enough to give me relief and I can't imagine how much this has worn on him for the past four and a half months. He's a great man, though, and a wonderful husband, and there's nobody else with whom I'd rather be taking this journey. If you're a husband reading this though, I can describe a few of the things Shawn's done that have helped. Perhaps most importantly, Shawn's listened and held me when I've cried. It's huge when he doesn't try to ask me why I'm doing so much and adding to my stress, but just listens to me. He's not complained about having to get up with Jude occasionally in the night, and he's glad to take Jude from when when I'm at my wits end.

Coletrane and I are slowly making up. He's still as obnoxious as ever - barking way too often, chewing on Jude's pacifiers, and pooping in the house - but my attitude towards him is starting to change again. He's barking because he's trying to protect Jude and I, he chews on Jude's pacifier because he doesn't know that it's not his toy, and he poops in the house because, well - he's the world's worst dog. And I'm starting to love him for that.

a post while jude naps

Happy Saturday to you! I hope you're finding time to rest and if you live in Winston-Salem, to enjoy this ridiculously nice weather. I'm in the process of washing cloth diapers and am excited to dry them on the line today (I've been drying them in the dryer...which I think makes them hold the smell more, or on the back of our kitchen chairs...which doesn't exactly do wonders for our decor), and I'm thinking I might take Jude for a walk in the park a little bit later today. Shawn left yesterday to drive to Atlanta with a bunch of Jr. High students for CIY:Believe, so I got to bed a little earlier last night and am buzzing from that extra hour and a half of sleep (or it could be because I've had two cups of half-caff coffee as compared to my usual one...and I think I accidentally made it a little more caff than half this time). I used to get really bummed when Shawn was gone on youth trips that I couldn't attend, but about a year ago I started using his absence to "pretty-fi" myself - face mask, painting my toenails, nice long bubble bath, eyebrow damage control, etc. I still miss the living daylights out of Shawn, but setting some time aside to pamper myself made the time go more quickly. Obviously I don't have nearly the time with Jude that I used to, but I did manage a face mask and some eyebrow plucking last night after Jude went to bed.

I took Jude to the Doctor yesterday because our home scale was showing that he was steadily decreasing in weight and it actually weighed him at 12 pounds yesterday (compared to the 13 pounds it weighed him at about a week ago). I was concerned, but relatively un-freaked. It looks like our scale isn't weighing him all that well - he weighed in at 12 lbs 12oz at the Doctor's office. The Doc said he had gained about a half an ounce a day, which is well within normal range. Hooray! I had also noticed that he seemed quite reflux-ey lately and didn't seem to be eating as well, so I talked to the Doctor about his medicine. I wasn't sure if reflux medicine can just begin to lose its affect like that, but was assured that it can. She gave us a nine day sample of Prevacid to try. I think that's the medicine that finally did the trick for my nephew, Asher. Hopefully Jude will grow out of this whole mess soon!

If you'll allow me a brief aside, I need to let you know that as long as I've been writing this blog, I've pondered whether the "D" in "doctor" is capitalized or not. You may have noticed that I go back and forth between capitalizing and not...any grammar freaks out there know the protocol? You might wonder if I've also pondered the grammatical stability of my run on sentences that seem to abound. You may rest assured that I indeed do not. I'm a big fan of both run on sentences and incomplete sentences in my blog writing, as that's how I talk. In run ons. And incomplete sentences.

And now for one more aside. I've wanted to blog about postpartum depression for a few weeks now, and have even started a time or two - but I'm at a loss for how to address the topic. As Jennifer Knapp sings, "I've never been much for the baring of soul in the presence of any man. I'd rather keep to myself all safe and secure, in the arms of a sinner I am." I hesitate at laying my struggles out there for all to see, but I feel compelled to share. Towards the end of my pregnancy a couple of friends of mine shared with me (and their husbands with Shawn) about their personal postpartum depression struggles. When I realized I was in the middle of it myself, I took so much comfort in knowing their story, knowing they came through it, and knowing the signs for which to look. I also think their husbands helped Shawn know how to help and cope with seeing before him a very different woman than the one whom he married. So bare with me while I work at being authentic with you. This blog is as much a journal for me as it is a way to keep friends and family updated. I want to be able to look back at this time in my life -the good, the bad, and the ugly. I will blog about this topic, I feel compelled to do so, and hope to do so soon.

I think Jude is starting to stir from his nap, so I'll add a few more pictures from Jenn. Enjoy them and then get out there and enjoy the beautiful sunny Saturday!








I would say this is the look he has on his face most of the time - inquisitive and adorable.
















I'm pretty sure I'll never get tired of seeing him in that hat. My little elf. :)

Shawn was super excited about Jude's first Pittsburgh hat. Looks like Jude is, too!

can you resist

...just eating up those cheeks?! If so, then you are a better person than I. My theory is that God put a magnet inside them, and my lips are absolutely powerless to resist. No sense fighting it - those cheeks are made for kisses!

Our friend Jenn from Photographic Memories took some more shots of Jude this past weekend. He was much more polite this time - refraining himself from peeing on her props and even giving her a few smiles. If you live in the Winston area, I would highly recommend Jenn. Check out the pricing on her website - she's really not kidding when she says she only charges $40 for an hour long sitting fee, and then gives you the CD of edited images to print wherever and as often as you'd like. I don't normally "plug" people like this, but you have to admit - that's a killer deal! Once she has all of the images edited, I'll pass along the link to the online album and those of you who also cannot help but swallow Jude's cheeks whole (ahem...grandparents!) can feel free to print, frame, or make into a poster size to hang above your couch. ;) For now, though, I thought I'd pass along a few of the pictures that Jen has emailed to me. There will be more coming soon!

jude smiles

and it's just about the cutest smile I've ever seen. He still smiles as though I am the funniest thing in the entire world - quite the ego boost (even if it IS from a four month old). I think he's still working out the whole laughing thing, though. He smiles really big, and even kind of draws his shoulders up like he's laughing...but no sound! We had one day that he laughed out loud - he laughed at me making faces to him while he was in his jumperoo, and he laughed at Daddy making faces while he was in the tub. It was a great sound, and I look forward to hearing him figure out how to make it again!

According to our home scale, Jude weighed either 13 lbs or 13.2 lbs - I weighed him twice. Either way, that seems to be right on target. Yay Jude! He's mostly grown out of his 0-3 month clothes and is officially fitting into his 3-6 month clothes, which is also exciting. He has several more "going out" clothes in 3-6 months, so we have more fun options in which to dress him.

Let's see, what else is Jude up to lately? Oh, I think he's working on the sleeping through the night thing. He slept from about 9:00pm to about 6:00am three nights in a row (woo-hoo!), but has been waking up around 1:00am and 4:30am the past two nights. I'm not exactly sure why (I think gas might've played a big part the first night), but I'm learning that I don't have to find a reason for everything. Jude's continuing to get cereal at 7:30pm, and is getting better at eating. He's beginning to actually open his mouth for the spoon, and he looks a little bit like a baby bird when he does so. :) It's hard to believe that in just two or three weeks, I'll be feeding him real food. I'm not sure whether I've mentioned it here on the blog or not, but I plan on making Jude's baby food (just in case you weren't entirely sure we were complete weirdos and counter cultural). It's cheaper and less processed, which seems like good enough reason to me! I'm going to start with butternut squash and sweet potatoes. We actually had both of those items on our grocery list anyway this week, so I figured I'd go ahead and make then freeze it for when he's ready to move on from cereal.

Looks like naptime is over - gotta go!

a how to guide for getting jude to nap

As I've mentioned (probably over and over...and over and over), Jude is not exactly easy to get down for a nap. I've heard tales of babies who just fall asleep in the middle of playing when they're tired, of infants who sleep most of the day and night away, of children who can be put into the crib awake and transition themselves to peaceful slumber. In our house, those things are about as likely to happen as a unicorn prancing through the living room with a leprechaun on its back. We spent the first two months of Jude's life doing the walk/bounce/shhh/lullabye/pacifier/pleasejudefortheloveofallthingsgoodfallASLEEP! combo. We'd combine these things in a array of frustration and exhaustion, doing our best to get our sweet boy to fall asleep. I thought he might be overtired...so I'd try getting him to sleep at the first signs of yawning. I thought he might not be tired enough...so I'd try wearing him out thoroughly before putting him to sleep.

Eventually my exhausted self came to the conclusion that Jude was going to cry before falling asleep. He could either cry for twenty minutes in my arms, or he could cry for twenty minutes in his crib. The place where all that crying took place didn't seem to matter to him. Since it was much healthier for my state of mind to let him cry in his crib - that's what we tried. After a day or so, I realized that Jude actually cried less when we let him "cry it out" in his crib. It's almost as if he prefers to be left to himself to settle down to sleep. We had a pretty good routine going when Jude was diagnosed with failure to thrive. Mommy guilt overtook my brain and heart, and I couldn't bare to hear my sweet boy crying as I could almost hear him screaming, "I'm hungry! I'm not tired! Please, please give me food!" So at the slightest whine from my boy, I fed him. After a couple of weeks of him putting weight back and doing well, I realized that he probably wasn't getting enough sleep because I was feeding him when he was upset from sleepiness. So we went back to the walk/bounce/soothe Jude to sleep ourselves method, and he went back to taking 30-45 minutes to wind down for a nap, and sleeping for 20 minutes at best.

After Jude's last appointment, I decided that I could put fears of starving my child out of my mind, and work on helping him figure out how to settle himself to sleep. The first couple of days were brutal, but after about a week, he only cries for six or seven minutes on average. I actually just put him down for a nap, and I think he cried a total of four minutes (and yes, I still agonize every minute that he's crying).

So here's what we do:

1. About an hour and a half after he eats, Jude starts to get super whiny. I check to make sure he's not bored (give him another toy, change the scenery), and if he's still whiny, I assume he's probably tired. Usually when I pick him up, he confirms it by rubbing his eyes or mashing his face into my neck.

2. I take Jude back to his nursery, turn the lights off, and start his lullabye playlist on my iPod. The first song is a lullabye version of the Beatles' "Across The Universe." Sometimes I wonder if he'll always associate that song with sleepy time. I picture him as an adult, hanging out with his wife, listening to the Beatles. Across the Universe plays, and bam! he drops fast asleep. Excuse my twisted sense of humor, but that scenario really amuses me.

3. With Jude on my hip, I put a pacifier in his mouth and let him cuddle against my neck for a minute. This usually involves him smearing his drool all over my shirt, rubbing his eyes, pulling out the pacifier, etc. I only do this for a minute or so. My theory is that Jude is such an active and alert baby. I think he has a difficult time "turning off" his brain and settling to sleep. By having a very specific routine and giving him a minute or so to realize, "oh, it's time to fall asleep," I hope to help him figure out how to turn that active brain of his off.

4. I swaddle Jude in a specialized velcro swaddling blanket. To be honest, it resembles a straight jacket. I wish Jude didn't have to be swaddled...he hates it. I've tried several times to put him down without swaddling, but his fists automatically go up to his eyes and keep him awake. As he's napping, the jerking of his arms and legs usually wakes him up if he's not swaddled. Jude's too feisty for a normal blanket swaddle...he's out of those things in 60 seconds flat. Hence the straightjacket.

5. I hold a swaddled Jude in the crook of my arm (with his pacifier in his mouth) and stand next to his crib, swaying with him for a minute or two. Sometimes his eyes close at this point, sometimes he gets super fired up and fussy.

6. Regardless of what he does, after a minute of swaying with him, I lay him in his crib, in the middle of this sleep positioner (another protection against his feistyness...he ends up on the opposite end of the crib with his head up against the crib rail if we don't keep him in it). I tell Jude goodnight, and that I love him, turn on his monitor, and leave.

7. I let him cry for ten or fifteen minutes. For most babies, I think it would be sufficient to let them cry for ten minutes. With Jude, I learned that going in too early would often rile him right up to cry even louder, harder, and longer. If I stayed away for fifteen minutes, he would usually settle himself by that point. I try to keep myself busy - folding laundry, answering emails, writing a blog...anything to keep myself from listening to his crying. When we first started doing this, I'd sit outside his door and cry right along with him. Yeah, I wouldn't recommend that. Do something productive.

8. If he's still crying after ten to fifteen minutes, I walk in and put the pacifier in his mouth. It usually involves having to jiggle it in there a little bit to get him sucking on it, and lots of, "shhhh shhhh shhhhh" -ing. Whether or not that settles him down, I leave again.

9. I wait another ten or fifteen minutes and repeat.

Since we've gone back to doing this after his FTT diagnoses, I rarely have to go in more than twice. He did cry on and off one afternoon for almost an hour, and I eventually picked him up and rocked him to sleep. For the past four or five days, though, he rarely cries longer than ten minutes. He's progressively crying less and less. Actually, he went down for a nap yesterday for Shawn without crying at all! That would mark the second time he's ever slept without crying first.

Once he regularly falls asleep with minimal crying, I'll work on phasing out and shortening parts of his naptime routine so he doesn't need all of those things to fall asleep.

So my friends, that - in a very long winded nutshell - is a how-to manual for getting Jude to nap.



Jude skyping Mama Maurer while eating cereal for the second time. He's multitasking already!











A ride with Daddy (who does not enjoy having his picture taken).











Naked baby on the changing table.

a simple update

It's been a couple of days, so I wanted to update family on the goings on of our sweet Judeabug. Goings ons? Going on?



On what he's up to lately.



I'm proud to say that Jude is getting quite roly poly! I only weigh him once a week right now (for the sake of my own sanity), but I would guess he's probably getting close to 12.5 pounds. He won't be a heavyweight anytime soon, but it's nice to see him getting new fat rolls and outgrowing clothes. We still have quite a bit of sample forumla in our cabinet, just in case he should need it - but it looks as though we've made it through this whole "failure to thrive" stuff completely with breastmilk. It was certainly very stressful for awhile, but I'm so grateful that we stuck with it. I plan on breastfeeding him for a year, and I can't believe that we're already over a third of the way there!

I also wanted to make a correction about my last post. Jude looking like an old man and looking more like Shawn are not related. Shawn's quite the dapper young man..in this girl's opinion...and I really do love that Jude is starting to look like him. Once all of Jude's hair grows in, I do believe he'll begin to lose the old man look. :)


Back to the goings on...

Jude's been sleeping a little better lately. Two out of the past three nights, he's slept until 4:00am-ish. That's about seven hours for him, which is about average for his age. That's about five hours for me, which is pretty exciting! I can't say for sure, but I think this might be attributed to the rice cereal we've begun giving him in the evenings. We've also gone back to doing a modified version of letting Jude "cry it out," for naptimes, which seems to be working. He's crying less and less each day and gets more sleep as each day passes. I'll have to elaborate more on what we do and why I feel like it's the best thing for Jude at some point. Several people have asked me about it, and I feel like crying it out gets some bad press. Not today, though, because today...I have some pictures to share!









Go Duke!

so 45mm is apparently a gun

...my bad. Shawn's informed me that the clicking of the camera reminds me of an 8mm not a 45mm. Rest assured that I do not have fond nostalgic memories of guns, I'm just a doof.

Jude seemed to be slightly less fussy last night, and I'm wondering if it might be related to being over tired. I'm working at trying to figure out the best napping schedule for him and the best time to start his bedtime routine at night. I guess I'll keep tweaking it to see how he does. Someone please tell me that he'll eventually sleep through the night.

I forgot to mention that his hair is starting to fall out. He's looking quite old man-ish with a bald ring around the back of his head and sideburns that tend to stick straight out. We actually think it's coming back in even more blonde, but we'll see. I had three glorious months of Jude looking like his Mama, and now those Maurer genes are starting to show! I happen to think Shawn's pretty dang handsome, though, so I'd be thrilled if Jude looked like him.

Well, laundry/dishes/dog duty calls!

videos!

After the smashing success of my last posting of a Jude video (ummm...my Mom really liked it), I thought I'd go ahead and post a couple more. They're not the highest quality because they're taken with our digital camera, but I happen to think the constant clicking sound adds a 45mm nostalgic touch (or...I'm too cheap to buy an actual video camera right now).

Judeabug eating cereal from a spoon for the first time. Excuse the poor angle, I was sitting the camera on the edge of the high chair. As to be expected, most of the food ended up in the fat rolls under his chin. Good thing it was bath night!

Jude playing in what we affectionately call "The Command Center." He's doing a high pitched squealy noise that's adorable. We actually just figured out last night that he seems to particularly enjoy making this sound at our dog, Coletrane. He kind of sounds like a lion cub trying to find its roar, and we're not sure if he's just saying "hi," to the dog, trying to get his attention, or trying to intimidate him. It's more fun to assume he's trying with all of his 12 pounds of might to scare our 100 pound Labrador retriever. Of course he stopped squealing as soon as I pulled out the camera and did a wide eyed staring thing instead. I'll admit it's not the most interesting of videos, but it's here solely for Grammy/Grampy and Mama/Papa Maurer -I think grandparents would be amused at ANYthing their grandchildren do.

i don't want to brag, but....

I totally made my blog background myself! I've been working on my website design/coding skillz (because I think it sounds less nerdy if I say it with a "z"), and figured designing and coding a blog background would be a breeze in comparison. It was a bit more difficult than I thought, but I'm pretty excited to have done it, nonetheless. Lest you think my skillz are anything to write home about, let me admit to you that I've been trying to upload two videos of Jude for the past hour without luck.

Jude's appointment Tuesday was an extremely encouraging one. The doctor said he looked like a completely different baby. He weighed 12lbs 2oz, and I think that keeps him in the 14th percentile. He switched Jude's reflux medication, and within 12 hours of taking it, Jude's spitting up has been cut in half! The doctor also told us to give Jude rice cereal in his bottles about twice per day, and gave us the go ahead to try giving him solid food. I want to wait until he's five months to give him actual food, but I did try rice cereal mixed with breast milk last night. He did really well for his age, but I think he ate a total of two teaspoons out of the four tablespoons I'd made. Oh well, at this point, it's more about practice than nutrition.

We do seem to suddenly find ourselves dealing with an extremely fussy boy. It feels like he's reverted back to infanthood as soothing him to sleep is quite the chore. I'm doing my best to try and figure out why this may be...perhaps the new reflux medicine is making him fussy? could it be the new cereal hurting his stomach? maybe he's reaching new developmental milestones? is he not sleeping enough during the day? is he sleeping too much during the day? is he hungry? do his legs hurt from shots? ...

and the list goes on. Go ahead. Say it. "Jen. Chill out. He'll be fine. Ride it out."

I know, you're right. I'm working on it. Hopefully it's just a phase that he'll soon be through. Until then, please excuse the sleep deprived, patience lacking zombie you may see before you.

We received an incredibly generous offer from a girl who was in Pinedale's youth group when Shawn interned there. She's grown up to be a friend of ours and she sang in our wedding. Katie graduated from college early, and like most current graduates, is struggling to find even a part-time job. While she's searching, she wanted to know if she could help me out with Jude. Umm...yes please!

I'm a little stubborn. Okay...a lot stubborn. I have a hard time asking for help. If we lived near family, I don't think I'd have a problem asking Jude's grandma's to help me with him occasionally. There are many people from church who have offered, but I have a hard time distinguishing between the polite "someday" offers, and the "i really mean it" offers. Shawn's always telling me to ask someone for help, but I just always felt like asking anyone would be an imposition. Katie offered to come to the house on the days I work from home and watch Jude for a spell so that I can have some time to get things done. I am really looking forward to have a steady relief - you have no idea! I can't decide if I want to use that time to run, nap, shower, eat, work, or clean, and the truth is that it'll probably vary. The prospect of having a little bit of help is an answered prayer.

Please continue to pray for Jonah - he's progressing, but is still very deep in the woods. http://patriceandmattwilliams.blogspot.com/

dear jude

Dear Jude,

Tomorrow you will be four months old, which seems both so young and entirely too old at the same time. You are one amazing kid, sweet Jude. You had a check up today, and as the doctor listed the developmental milestones you should have been hitting at this age, your Daddy and I couldn't help but smile at each other. Most of them you've been doing for a couple of months now! You've gotten much more smiley in the past month, and it's sweet to see you charm complete strangers with that dimple. You've also started to really recognize me and Daddy, and I'm proud to say that we can make you smile more than anyone. I have so many favorite memories of you from the past month, but I wanted to share a few specific ones.

- Daddy and I read to you every night as you're winding down for bed. You had fallen asleep while Daddy was reading a bit of "Winnie The Pooh" to you. In the book, Winnie the Pooh was singing a song, so Daddy sung the song in his "Pooh" voice (which is spot on, by the way). Though you were fast asleep, you woke up a little when Daddy started singing, looked at him, and smiled your sweet smile. You melt my heart, bug.

-You've started reaching out for Coletrane as he passes by, which I love. Sometimes Cole walks on by, and sometimes he graces you with a kiss on the hand (or on the face if we're not watching!). Your joy at those disgusting puppy kisses makes me smile every time.

-One time I was changing your diaper on the changing table and you were beyond fussy. I was doing everything I could to calm you down, but nothing seemed to be working. I was buttoning up your onesie when you grabbed ahold of my forearm and just stopped crying. I looked down at you and you just stared at me...as if you knew you were safe with me.

We've loved watching you grow and change in the past four months, sweetheart, and are excited to see how much more you do so. Though we suspected it even when I was pregnant with you, we're seeing that you have a fiesty, determined personality. I expect this will make some of our time as your parents a challenge, but I also expect that God gave you that personality for a very specific purpose. We love you so much more than you know, and God loves you more fully and completely than we ever could.

Love,

Mommy

on a posting roll

Yes, friends - I'm actually posting two posts in two days! Are you wondering to what you can attribute this amazing feat of organization on my part? To put it shortly, Shawn's a great husband and father. He's always offering to take Jude for a couple of hours so that I can get away. For awhile, I was using that time to run. Since I'm up with Jude so much in the night now, though, I'm finding that running just zaps my energy for the rest of the day. So for awhile, my answer was, "no, that's okay, i'll just hang out at home." As I watched my patience level dwindle and my stress level rise, I started thinking that maybe I should again take him up on those offers. So I'm writing this in relative quiet at my local coffee shop. I love spending time with my sweet boy, but I have to admit that I do thoroughly enjoy the occasional break. In true motherhood fashion, I spend most of my time away from him thinking about him.

I do have some pictures for you! Like most babies, Jude likes to look at himself in the mirror, so I wanted to snap some pictures of him doing just that. I'm not sure how well you can see our bed in the background, but you can be sure it's unmade...so just ignore that.

Our big boy! He loves to sit up on the couch/recliner, etc. like this. Check out that belly! Can you see why I might've been a little slow to realize that he wasn't gaining weight?

I was reading a mother's blog recently that was composed entirely of letters to her infant daughter. I thought that was a great idea and I think I might do that occasionally here. This blog is the closest thing to a baby book that I keep, and I really do use it as a way to keep record of Jude's young life. I'd love to have some notes and thoughts specifically for him that he can read here when he's older.

We have an appointment on Tuesday for Jude's 4 month well check up and weight check. I'm really not sure that he's gained weight in the two weeks since he was weighed last, so I'm eager to see. We're feeding him as much as he seems to want, so if he hasn't gained weight, I think I might ask the doctor about more aggressive approaches - hopefully something that will still allow me to breastfeed as much as possible. On the advice of pretty much everyone who loves me, I've decided to stop weighing Jude daily. Our scale isn't consistent, and it just seems to feed my anxiety about him. I'll probably weigh him every three days as I still want a way to track his progress and keep an eye on him. I have to be honest - looking at Jude, you'd have no idea anything was wrong. He has plenty of fat rolls and even more energy. Perhaps he's just a small baby? I don't know...I'm tired of pretending like I know what I'm doing or what's going on. I have no idea. I'm downright clueless about this whole motherhood thing.

Jonah's story was written up in the Winston-Salem Journal today. HERE'S the link. I'm so amazed and inspired by both of them. My heart literally aches when I see pictures of Jonah, and I genuinely love that boy. My prayer continues to be that he is healed and lives a long, long life. I pray that he and Jude will be good friends for many, many years. Please continue praying that 1)God would protect his fragile body from infection 2)He would eat great and get the nutrients he needs to fight the battle he faces 3)That God would heal his body, allowing Jonah to live a normal, healthy life.

jude smiles

Here is the promised video of Jude's sweet smiling. I was trying to get him laughing, but of course as soon as I got the camera out he stopped. Oh- and ignore the weird lady making silly sounds.

mommy guilt

In our attempts to fatten Jude up, we've tried everything...and I do mean everything.

Just kidding! I was making cookies and Jude held onto the butter for me until I was ready for it.

I've been thinking a lot lately about Jude's lack of weight gain and honestly, feeling pretty guilty. I'm not sure how I didn't notice that he was "failing to thrive," and I'm not quite sure how to tell if he's struggling in the future. Jude's a really active infant, and his activity level stayed constant throughout this whole thing. He wasn't particularly lethargic or sleepy acting. He also rarely roots, so that's never been a good indication either. Even weighing him every morning seems to only further confuse me. For instance, Jude weighed 12 lbs even yesterday. This morning - weighed at the same time, in the same kind of diaper - he weighed 11.4 lbs. Did he really lose over half a pound in a day?!

I didn't know that my baby was hungry - starving. I made choices based on my best guesses of why he was fussing, and I was apparently often wrong. I'm struggling with second guessing all my choices now and am wondering when I'll ever know Jude as it seems a mother should. I was reading the other day that I should be able to distinguish Jude's cries by now. I have to be honest - I have NO idea what he needs by the sound of his cry. I can only guess based on the timing: if it's about time to fall asleep, to eat, to play with another toy, etc. Obviously that's not the most effective way to figure out his needs, since that was my method when he stopped gaining weight.

Anyway, I'm blessed that he's basically a healthy kid, just a little frustrated at the moment with trying to figure out how exactly to tell when he's hungry or when he's just tired or gassy. Advice or insight would be thoroughly appreciated!

Please continue praying for Matt and Patrice. I just checked their blog this morning, and Jonah apparently took 4cc of milk! That was one of the primary things for which Patrice was asking prayers, and I don't think that's a coincidence. So please pray that he'd continue to eat well and that God would protect his little body from infection.

a year ago

Crazy things were happening in the Maurer home one year ago. About a year and a month ago, I found myself once again tearfully realizing that another month had gone by and I was not pregnant. I was starting to research adoption and fertility options, wondering if perhaps we wouldn't be able to get pregnant. God was continually reminding me of his words, "Trust in the Lord with all of your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. Acknowledge Him in all of your ways, and He will make your paths straight." I can imagine that God was trying to tell me, "Relax, sweet daughter. It'll happen in My perfect timing."

A year and two weeks ago, I started to wonder if the funny things going on with my body might mean pregnancy. A year and four days ago, I took a pregnancy test and just about peed myself when I saw that it was positive. A year and three days ago was Shawn's birthday and was when I told him about what God was knitting together inside of me. It's fun to look back on where we were at the time...and at how much has changed. Even though I struggled with fears of not being able to have children, I do look back on that period of my with fondness. I learned about patience and trusting God. I learned about taking my fears to Shawn and better understood his role as my head. I learned that submission to Shawn is actually a joy because his deepest desire is to take better care of me than I ever would take of myself.

Back to present day...I think Jude's weight is alright. I'm only going by my home scale, which says that he weighs the same as he weighed last week. I'd love to have seen him put on weight, but I'm keeping a very close eye on it and am keeping in mind that my home scale isn't the most accurate. I'm continuing to feed him as much as I possibly can, though, and I'm pretty sure my milk supply is better than it's ever been. Unfortunately, I'm sick again (ugh!). I'm obviously concerned about that affecting my supply, but now that I know what could happen, I'm doing everything I can to not let that happen. Jude's still not really sleeping much at night. I'm fine with that as it means he's getting calories that he needs, but I'm beyond tired.

Several of you have let me know that you're praying for Matt and Patrice, so thank you! Please continue checking their blog for updates. I actually just read that they only had to wrap the gauze around his limbs today! Apparently his torso was in good enough shape to not need it. I cried when I saw the pictures of his belly - what a beautiful sight that must've been to Matt and Patrice. They are never far from my mind, especially when I'm holding Jude. Everything in me wants for Matt and Patrice to be able to hold Jonah. My heart literally aches for them.

I tried to get a video of Jude laughing the other day. Of course, as soon as I pulled out the camera he stopped, but I did get him smiling a lot. If I'm feeling frisky, I'll try to get that up in my next post!