15

It's currently 1:51 and I'm up for the first feeding of the night. Jonah is back to sleep but I can't get this thought out of my head:
Does anyone else remember the TV show "15"? It was on Nickelodeon when it first started as a network and was all high drama. One of the character's names was Dillon way before that name was cool.
This is what I think of at almost 2 am.

(Bitter) Sweet 16

As a new mom, I have many worries, the most shallow being my current weight. I've always had a horrible relationship with my body and I can't say that I am in a good place right now. I remember the day I decided to become bulimic--my junior year of high school when I was doing the play "It's a Wonderful Life." The only other person near to my age in that show smoked like a fiend, had horrible skin, and weighed about 100 lbs. I had been near her in rehearsals for a couple of months and one day I had just had it with myself. I always felt too big onstage, too big in life, and I wasn't going to do it anymore. I got to where I would eat half a bagel a day. That's all. I lost 30 lbs. in two months and looked great. I "maintained" my weight by walking at least 3 miles a day (every day) and throwing up food if I felt I had eaten too much. By my freshman year of college I had lost ten to fifteen more pounds and had completely f-ed up my relationship with food. I took off the 2nd semester of my sophomore year because things had gotten way out of control.
I currently am wearing a size 16. This is three sizes larger than the size I had at one time vowed to kill myself if I ever wore. I realize I had a baby two months ago and I shouldn't freak out over how I look so soon, but I do. It seems like I will never be where I want to be again, size wise. I wonder where my self control went. If I tried to eat only a bagel now I would probably faint if I didn't kill someone first. I want to somehow recapture that crazy food nazi person I used to be with a little less of the forced vomiting. Or maybe I should just find someone to convince me that Angelina Jolie really wears a size 12.

Relief

Thank God Jonah's doing better because if he wasn't, Mama would be out of her mind right now. His Prevecid seems to be working rather well, along with the medicine we got that is used for colic but actually relaxes the abdominal muscles so he won't cramp so badly. The only thing that is still a problem is spit-up. Anyone who's been around babies very long knows that spit up happens and you just kind of have to deal, but sometimes he will spit up EVERY TIME you pick him up. We've gotten used to just having burp towels everywhere (there is at least one flung somewhere in every room of the house) but the worst part is the smell. Jonah is on this special formula (which is, of course, the most expensive) because of all his tummy problems and my inability to breastfeed (long story, just know that I feel like a horrible person). It's doing very well but it stinks to high heavens out of the jug, let alone after it's been sitting in his stomach for a while and then comes out. It's the most horrible smell I've ever encountered; I'm pretty sure that smell is what they should use when training people who deal with dead and decomposing bodies. What's terrible about it is that he tends to carry this smell around with him. We tend to baby wipe his neck and face every time we even think he spit up and I bathe him at least once a day, no matter how tired I am, or I end up with a very stinky baby, and not the poop stink (although, let me tell you, that is LOVELY too).
I was freaking out that he wasn't on track developmentally. Most 8 week olds (yes, he's that old!) by now are picking their heads up and smiling all the time and following toys with their eyes. Jonah is still working on the head pick up, is just starting to smile, and seems like any toy I show him doesn't exist. I, of course, was convinced that my child was autistic, until someone much less stressed who has more sleep than I, reminded me that he's really only supposed to be just about four weeks old. Just because a baby is born early doesn't mean he is really that age. I've been told to gauge his developmental milestones based on his due date, not his actual birthdate, since the first three, almost four weeks of his life were spent much the same way they were in the womb, sleeping, eating, and growing. If I do that, he's right on track, maybe even a little ahead, with his age group. All the milestones tend to even out around two or so; it's just keeping your competitive instincts out of it until then (I'd hate to have to beat down someone because they said Jonah was behind their child who was born around the same time).
Yale and I are adjusting to having Jonah here, Yale I think better than I am. At first I was so paranoid that I wasn't doing the "right" thing. I had this idea that I was supposed to be able to do everything: cleaning, cooking, errands, baby care, etc. I hit a mental wall around five-six weeks postpartum. I couldn't do all of these things and the ones I was doing I didn't think I was doing very well at all. I was convinced Jonah didn't like me and that if I wasn't around things wouldn't be any different. First, the doctor put me on a different anti-depressant (the one I was on, Zoloft, I had been put on because I was trying to breastfeed, but that wasn't working--neither the breastfeeding nor the Zoloft). Second, I realized that I wasn't required nor expected to do everything and that asking for help isn't terrible. Third, Yale and I needed a BREAK! We weren't expecting Jonah so soon and we hadn't really had time to prepare mentally to be taking care of a baby, let alone a baby who had all the things wrong with him that we've been dealing with. Luckily, my parents and Yale's mom have been taking turns keeping Jonah when we need a breather or just extra sleep. Since my dad retired he's just across the street and I can take Jonah over there during the day if I need to do something and Yale's mom doesn't work so she has been more than willing to help. I didn't realize that sometimes you just need someone to hold the baby while you try and do laundry or wash bottles or whatever. My parents have also been keeping him on Saturday nights, which means Yale and I usually take Ambien and go to sleep by 8:30. I'm such an independent person that it's hard for me to ask for help, but I've learned to never refuse free babysitting, especially when the baby in question has been up all night screaming because he prefers to sleep on someone, not in his cradle (yes, he's already that spoiled :-)).
What sucks is having to disappoint people. We've made plans with Andy and Rachel probably a million times, that have had to be canceled because we have a sick little guy. I'm reluctant to plan to do anything with people because I don't know what will come up and I feel horrible canceling if I have to. I know people understand, I just hate to be that flaky.
On another note, Jonah loves background noise, so I've been recording lots of TV shows for us to watch during the day. Last night I recorded one about the Duggar family from Arkansas. They have 17 children, another on the way, and their oldest just got married. Last night's special was about him proposing to his wife. Both of them are 20, have known each other for two years, and didn't even kiss until they got married. I totally understand if people want to wait to have sex until marriage (what with all the STDs and shit out there) but it is a foreign concept to me about the not kissing until marriage (not the first I've heard of this--a girl I went to middle school with waited for her first kiss with her husband until they got married and I'm sure if she had felt this way at the time would have waited for her first kiss ever until she got married). I think it's an interesting concept and in some historical cultures kissing is considered more intimate that actually having sex (I know that in the past, Japanese prostitutes had a special, almost taboo, lovemaking technique--kissing). But honestly, a peck on the cheek? A kiss on the top of the head? Simple signs of affection aren't allowed. Only hand holding. And they have to have chaperons wherever they go--because the two individuals', after having made this commitment, can't be trusted? Strange. I don't understand. Also, here's an observation: a shot of them reading the Bible while driving. Dangerous? I think so.

Tummy Trouble

We have been having a time with Jonah lately. For the 1st three weeks of his life, he was the perfect baby--sleeping and eating on a self-imposed schedule and only crying when he needed food (he is one of those who likes to sit in a wet diaper, yuck!). Lately, however, he has been screaming for seemingly no reason except that he was obviously in pain.
Well, like any internet savvy mother, I WebMD'd his symptoms and found that he most likely had reflux. I called the Dr. who proscribed Zantac. Great, I thought, this is going to be over soon and my wonderful baby will be back. Not so fast, sister.
First, Jonah hated the taste of the Zantac so it was difficult to get him to take it. Then I spilled half the bottle trying to get him to take it. Finally it didn't seem to be working at all. He would still have these screaming fits and be writhing in pain, so much so that I dreaded feeding him and he wouldn't be getting hardly any sleep at night.
Yesterday I took him to the doctor and he was checked over thoroughly. Nothing blocking the stomach or intestines, that he could tell, and it just seems that the Zantac wouldn't work for him. Now he's on baby Prevecid and seems to be doing better, but we'll see. I really hope this works, because if it doesn't, I don't know what to do.