Stuff we love: Rescue Sleep Remedy

I'll be the first one to admit that the philosophy behind the Bach Flower Essences sounds pretty wacky to me. Unnamed substances distilled from flowers used to balance complex emotional problems? Kind of farfetched even for people like us. But when we tried them ourselves about a year ago, we were particularly pleased with the results of Rescue Sleep, which we found calming and sleep-enhancing.

So it's only natural (at least for us) that when we found ourselves with a restless, fussy baby, we gave a couple of squirts to her. It stopped her crying, anyway, as she tasted it with a funny and amazed look on her face. It didn't knock her flat out or anything, but within minutes, she was calmer, and then--asleep. Over the past few months, we've repeated the process a number of times a week and always been really impressed with the results. Even with her teething pain, we've actually found it to be more effective in calming her down than Hyland's Teething Tablets, a homeopathic remedy lots of parents rave about.

It could be the flower essences, or it could be the 27% alcohol solution they're preserved in (grape brandy, to be exact--and brandy is a time-honored remedy for teething babies). Either way, I'm not arguing with success. The bottle runs around $8-10 and lasted us over a year with occasional use; the next one will probably only last about half that long or less, since we're using it more often with Eden. Still, probably not much more expensive than something like Children's Tylenol, and we don't like the idea of giving our baby drugs unless absolutely necessary (and that stance finds more support every day). We get it at Whole Foods, but you can also order it online. Amazon has it for under $8 with free shipping! And right now, Mambo Sprouts is offering a $2 off coupon. Effective, natural, and a coupon to boot--what more do you need to know?

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

Funny Parenting Comics

Disclaimer: Navelgazing Midwife (the page I'm sending you to) has a lovely header graphic (and I do mean graphic) that involves a radiant naked pregnant woman.

That said, here they are.