Natural Baby Essential: Coconut oil

Image by JPhilipson

Matt and I are all about products that do double, triple, or quadruple duty. Particularly those that are a single ingredient. Like baking soda--aka deodorant, toothpaste, kitchen cleanser, catbox deodorizer, stain remover, etc etc. Since we've had a baby, coconut oil has become one of those.

Eden's never really had what I would consider a full-blown diaper rash, but every once in awhile her butt will start to look a little red. We were using Burt's Bees Diaper Ointment, which worked beautifully and smelled wonderful, for the first month. Then all of a sudden one day I put it on her--no broken skin and no more red than usual--and she screamed absolutely bloody murder and would not stop. Assuming it had to be the cream, I quickly washed it off and she eventually settled down. We tried it one more time, just to be sure that was it, and sure enough--the same thing. She obviously developed some kind of sensitivity to one or more ingredients in the product--which was a shame, because we really liked it, but there was nothing we could do.

So we were on the hunt for something new. We'd obtained some refined coconut oil (basically it's processed and flavorless and cheaper than the raw or virgin coconut oil that's pricier and healthier) when I was pregnant in an effort to help slow stretch marks (it didn't work, but it is a wonderful moisturizer). I decided to try some of that on Eden since when I'd used it, I had appreciated how quickly it melted into my skin without making it feel greasy. Anything oily or greasy (like zinc oxide or petroleum-based balms) are a concern with cloth diapers because they can cause the diapers to repel water, which leads to leakage.

It worked beautifully. We applied a little coconut oil (easy because it's sort of a soft solid when you scoop it out, then melts at body temperature and soaks right in) to the red areas with each diaper change and by the next day, all traces of redness were gone. We've been using it for over a month now and it's shown no signs of causing problems with her diapers, and usually clears up her skin overnight.

Eden also developed a case of baby acne around 4 weeks old, which didn't seem to bother her much, but was something of a bummer to me, since she'd had such lovely creamy baby skin. I'd read that 4 weeks is a common time to develop it, and that it nearly always clears on its own by about six weeks, but I noticed that heat, drool, and dry skin seemed to exacerbate it and so though it might seem counterintuitive, I rubbed a little coconut oil on her cheeks in an effort to help her skin balance out. Sure enough, by six weeks her skin was beautiful and clear. I think it probably would have cleared up by itself anyway, but it seemed like the rough texture was improved by applying the coconut oil once or twice a day. Her cheeks still tend toward dryness and so I usually apply it to her face every morning and after a bath, and these days she looks like an "after" model for Clearisil.

We also use the coconut oil as an allover moisturizer after her bath, and I know some people swear by putting a dollop in the bathwater as well. We wash her in our bathtub and so since we don't want to slip and break our necks on an oily floor, we tend to avoid that measure. But as a moisturizer, it's effective, surprisingly nongreasy, and happily, completely nontoxic--so when she puts her hands in her mouth immediately after we apply it, we don't have to anxiously scan a list of ingredients to make sure she's not eating poison. It has just one ingredient, which we love.

Lastly, Eden has a tendency to develop a dry and occasionally flaky scalp--and I've found it helps quite a bit to rub some coconut oil into her head before she gets in the bathtub. In the tub, I just rub her head with a wet washcloth and that's it (no soap). Afterward, I rub in a little more coconut oil and she's good to go. Her hair and scalp never look or feel greasy--just soft.

We received ours from a generous friend who had it on hand, but there are a number of sources for coconut oil on the internet or at health food stores. You can get a 14-oz jar from Amazon for about $7 shipped. It also makes an easy and flavorless cooking oil. What we've done is take a larger batch and scoop it out into smaller containers--like baby food jars--so that we can have one in the kitchen, a small one by the changing table, one in the bathroom, etc. I usually scoop it into a jar and then microwave until it melts, then re-solidifies into a smooth block.

Relatively cheap, completely nontoxic, extremely effective, and very multipurpose--we're sold.

Baby love

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it's like to love a baby or a child. People tend to speak of it like it's something concrete and universal, things like you'll love them more than you ever thought possible or you'll fall in love with them immediately or you'll love them more than you've ever loved anybody, but I think it's probably more individual than that. The rate, depth, and expression of falling in love with a new baby are probably different for every family.

For example, many women speak of the overwhelming sense of emotion and besottedness they feel with their newborn from the moment of birth. Natural-birth advocates in particular speak of the cocktail of "love hormones" that promote deep and immediate attachment between mother and baby. Perhaps because I went into labor at 38 weeks and it only lasted about two hours, and so I hadn't yet had time to get my mind around the idea that hey, we're having a baby, not only soon but today, not just today but before breakfast time!, the most powerful feeling I had when I first held Eden was that of being completely stunned. Stunned that birth was over (heck, that it had even started!), that she was here, that she was a "she," that pregnancy was no more and her life was beginning. I remember looking at her and thinking that she looked right to me, like she belonged to our family, and feeling protective of her in the sense that I thought that we needed to get her a hat and a blanket and warm her up, but there was still a certain sense of disbelief that she was actually mine. It was only looking back at it a couple of weeks later, once I'd had a chance to get to know her, that that scene became infused with a new tenderness for me. It's a lot like looking back at my first dates with Matt--superimposed over the awkwardness that was actually there is a powerful sense of nostalgia and fondness born of what was yet to come.

There are also those who say that romantic or marital love "pale in comparison" with how powerfully one loves a child. I have to say that I honestly don't feel like Matt's and my love pales in comparison with anything. Instead, having Eden together has opened up all kinds of new things for me to love about Matt--how attentively he took care of both of us in the first hours, days, and weeks after birth, and still does; how much joy he gets from our daughter; his concern for her wellbeing. While I adore Eden--her baby smiles, curling up with her on the couch while she contentedly nurses--how can I adore any less the person who bustles around, cooking dinner and cleaning, so that she and I are completely free to do that?

On the other hand, it is very different from romantic love--in which you get to know someone incredibly well, then choose to make them part of your family. With a baby, you choose to add them to your family, they come to live in your house, and then you spend the next years getting to know them. I've also considered how crazy it will feel when Eden starts to talk. So far, I've gotten to know her as this being who definitely communicates, but does not speak--a lot like our cats. I imagine that her beginning to talk will feel something like if one of the cats opened its mouth and spoke words one day--a sense of "I never knew you could do that!"

Becoming a parent and falling in love with my baby have been different for me than the way they're described by many people. Just as it's nothing I could have really understood for myself before doing it, it's nothing that anybody else could prepare me for, either. And for me, that's part of the beauty of it--that out of the uniqueness of my relationship with Matt, we're creating a family dynamic that's also one of a kind.

Heavy

...is how taking care of Eden has felt in the past day or so. Mainly I mean this literally--she's probably at least a good 13 lbs or so now now and that is a LOT to have hanging off your body all day and night. Which, most of the time, she is--either being held, worn in the Ergo, or nursed. One the one hand, I love that she's a snuggly baby and likes to be held, and we believe pretty closely in most principles and applications of attachment parenting. On the other hand, I have a permanent crick in my upper back, and I've gotten so used to holding her all the time that even when I'm not, I catch myself picking things up off the floor with my toes. It feels so good when I finally get to straighten up and stretch--when for a minute, I'm just one body--and when I do, I sometimes realize it's the first time I've done so all day.

Part of this is my fault. I've gotten used to doing things in a decidedly un-ergonomic fashion (such as way too much time spent holding Eden in one arm, cradling the phone against my neck, and using my other hand to change over laundry/type with one hand/make dinner etc) and I should probably work on that. She also seems to be in a very high-needs period right now (my own mother would likely point out that if she's anything like me, that "period" will last anywhere from three to twenty-three years) and so my approach for this week, at least, is to pick out the top two or three things I need to get done in each day, do those while she takes her naps, and then just try to focus on Eden.

For today: register for classes (done), take a quiz (next), and vacuum (saving that for when she gets fussy because it usually puts her to sleep). Anything beyond that is a bonus but I'm not going to sweat it. Instead, I'm going to do everything I can to try to enjoy my baby--and, barring that, at least to fully be there for her.

There's also a certain level on which things sometimes feel heavy in a more figurative sense. Remembering that we can't just dash off for the day because there are those among us who hate their carseats and can go through a dozen diapers in the space of a morning. Having three in the bed, which is almost always cozy but every so often feels crowded instead. Never making it through a meal without someone else yelping to be fed (no matter how recently this just occurred) in the middle. I feel so incredibly lucky that she has another loving, caring, attentive parent who is ready and willing to jump in and totally take over at moments like that. Thank you, Matt. I don't know how any mother--especially one with a more demanding baby than Eden, which I think most are--does it without a Matt.

On the other hand, when I do go away, like to work, I miss her so much. I never understood how a person could really miss a baby (miss what? their stimulating viewpoints?), but I do now. I miss her soft, fuzzy head and her gummy (and occasional) smiles and her heartbreakingly plump and squishy cheeks. And I guess that's what it's all about.

Elimination Communication

Matt and I had talked before Eden was born about the idea of trying out Elimination Communication (EC)--also known as diaper-free, or natural infant hygiene. Basically the premise is that you learn to recognize your baby's cues when s/he is about to go to the bathroom, and you put them on the toilet or another receptacle.

Well, believe it or not, we got busy during the first six weeks and didn't get a chance to try it. I'll admit I was also a little skeptical--on EC websites and message boards, moms are always singing the praises of how well it works. Come on, we thought--how well could it really work?

Really, quite well, as a matter of fact. We started last weekend with Eden, and we use an old plastic cereal bowl--now marked with a "P" on the bottom, for pee/poop/potty--because she's still too small and wobbly to comfortably hold over the toilet. Plus, it's easier to take the bowl wherever we are (the bedroom, the living room) as opposed to running into the bathroom every time we think she might need to go. We don't tend to bother with it when we're out and about, but when I'm home with her during the day, she probably does 2/3 of her pees and all of her poops that way. It was incredibly easy to get started, and while it's probably more work for me than just changing and washing diapers, she's always hated to be in a wet diaper, even for a little while, so it's cut down on the amount of time she has to do that. It's also significantly reduced our diaper laundry, but that was only a load a day anyway, so it was no big deal.

Here is a great article by Sarah Buckley called "Mothering, Mindfulness, and a Baby's Bottom," in which she explains more about various aspects of the practice. While it might seem new-agey and crazy to some, it's actually how native cultures have dealt with infant elimination for thousands of years. We enjoy the insight into what's going on with Eden--what we thought before was unexplained fussiness is actually almost always the signal that she's going to go to the bathroom. I can usually tell by watching her face when she's on the bowl whether she's done or not--watery eyes, flared nostrils, puckering her lips like she's whistling are all signs that she's still got more to go. I usually sit cross-legged with the bowl on my lap and either hold her under her arms or cradle her (sometimes nursing her), and both work well. When she's done, I dab her off with a cloth wipe, rinse the bowl into the toilet, and dry it out for next time.

Here are some other good sites if you're interested in giving it a try:

Elimination Communication Positions
Diaper-Free Baby
Potty Whisperer