Monday, October 23, 2006

Things I've Been Meaning to Write


--Genevieve starts a higher dosage of Zantac tonight. Her reflux was better this past week, but not fully controlled by the lowest possible dose. She still spits up and swallows a lot and is uncomfortable after she eats, and because a full tummy makes her reflux a lot worse, she's still nursing pretty much constantly all day and night long, taking small amounts each time rather than a full meal. We're hoping a little more peppermint-flavored elixir will take care of these symptoms at last.

--I'm still off dairy, chocolate, and caffeine. Three weeks, people! And oh, I miss it (all of it). And yet, at the same time, it's easier than I thought it would be. True, I don't make any big deal about, say, a bite of a brownie or some cheese on my panini. But where it really matters--bowls of ice cream, milk on cereal, high-octane lattes--I'm completely on the wagon. I still haven't gotten up the nerve to rock the boat by trying to consume any of these things in full force to see if Genna Rose can withstand it. As if to validate this course of action, the other day Christopher gave Genevieve a bottle of pumped breast milk that had been frozen from August. Guess who cried all night? OK, it could have been a fluke, but all we could think was, Hmmm, how much ice cream and chocolate was I eating in August? (Hello! Newly postpartum, constantly ravenous, eating 24 hours a day to ward off memory says I was eating a LOT of ice cream and chocolate, you know?) And, do we dare use any of the frozen breast milk ever again? And, if not, can we bear to throw out such liquid gold?

Other things on my mind these days:

* Today we went to finalize our newly written wills, complete with a guardianship for the babies, should both Christopher and I be killed together. I am very relieved to have finally done this, after 2+ years of putting it off, but it's still a major bummer to pay $500 to spend a few weeks thinking about your own demise, and what would happen to your sweet girls if you were gone. Gulp. In other news, it is a very odd experience to breastfeed your squalling newborn in the office of an attorney, in front of said attorney (fiftyish, male), while signing documents about your own demise, because what are you going to do? The baby needed to eat at the same time of our attorney appointment. But I can safely say that nursing one-armedly while signing papers one-handedly in a big formal law office is not something I would have ever imagined doing before,

* Genevieve's plump baby thighs, complete with PERFECT rolls of two-month-old chub, are just about the most adorable things imaginable. I mean, honestly, I just want to eat her up. If her chubby-wubbiness wasn't cute enough, she has started up with the angelic coos and goo-goos when we talk to her, complete with crinkly-eyed grins and little barks of glee. It's as if she's using every ounce of her energy and will to charm us as fully as possible. Not that it takes much.


Donna said...

Ah, the writing of the wills. Yes, we did that not too long ago either. Dismal at it's best, but so nice to know that the kids will be taken care of if you are unable. And hopefully that will NEVER happen.

Shan said...

I know; I feel so relieved to have done it. We have been meaning to do it since Julia was born!