Your smile

Yesterday, you showed us your first smile.

It was like sunshine, and our hearts melted under that beautiful smile.

To Work or Not To Work?

I have been terrible at finding time to keep up the blog.  I wish I had more time to record all the thoughts and events and so many ups and downs just a short two weeks has brought, including the highlight of having my sweet university friends visiting me in Hong Kong to spend my birthday with me!  Who would have thought staying at home 24 hours a day yet you still barely have time to do anything but to take care of a baby, fit in a shower, and eat three meals a day?

I have already passed the mid point of my maternity leave, with the end of February fast approaching and my day back to work in sight.  I still have quite a few untaken holidays so could probably stretch the leave out to end of March or some point in April.

It's hard to say how I feel about it.  Part of me feels so not ready for it -- How can I leave this little helpless being when every day brings new excitement and being separated from him for more than two hours now makes me so anxious to get back to him already?   Also, before little Jack-Jack reaches 5 kgs when he has a bigger stomach to hold down some more food to sleep longer stretches, I am still up to feed him every three hours at night, and sometimes even more frequently, leaving me rather exhausted during the day, every day.  I thought my investment banking training has prepared me for the sleep deprivation, but clearly motherhood brings this part of the challenge to a completely new level.  And I don't think I will be a good employee if I am so tired all the time.  

The other part of me, is uncertain about staying at home. While being so involved in raising him is very rewarding, it is also very very lonely.  Sometimes I dread the start of my day before it even begins, and then thought sarcastically when I realized I am on a 24-hour shift and the day never really begins nor ends.  My world has become so small because I don't have time for anything else nor am I interested in sacrificing a good day with Jack-Jack to get back to some of my old activities.  Tango is out of the question since leaving home after 8pm when Jack-Jack's bedtime approaches is just impossible unless I can live with the thought that I am leaving him crying at home looking for me for the next few hours.  I have nothing to offer in a conversation that could interest you other than telling you what Jack-Jack has done today, how many times he poo-poo, pee-pee, spit up, and how cute and relaxed when you give him a bath and massage.  I felt so small somedays that I even feel unworthy.

Mic with his new role at work has also been incredibly busy and stressed, which I understand in my previous life, but now I couldn't help but feel sad and needy.  I thought if I went back to work, get distracted by doing the other seemingly important things then I would be a little less dependent on others sparing that little bit of time and attention on me.  The toll that having an infant takes on a marriage, which all the books have warned me about, also seemed more real than imagined.

So the short answer to the question "To work or not to work?" is I don't know.  Just like all the contradicting parenting advise out there, this seems to be a question I am answering with contradicting answers all the time.

I know there's an easier way to taking care of Jack-Jack, I could hire a night nurse, I could out-source the care to my helper more, I could give him a bottle/formula so I am not the only source of food that needs to be on stand by.  Somehow I just can't bring myself to do any of those things.  I don't want to be a typical parent in Hong Kong that outsources to the helper and can still have life close to exactly the way it was before.  It's not meant to be the same.  And somehow, that's just not me.  I want to do it myself, with my own hands.  And I am sure there is value in spending the time and being hands on, whether I believe little Jack-Jack knows it or not, and whether he will remember or not when he grows up.   I read this in Michael Lewis' book "Home Game" that he describes the experience from the father's perspective with his son -- "If you want to feel the way you're meant to feel about the new baby, you need to do the grunt work.  It's only in caring for a thing that you become attached to it."

Often I feel I want the best of both worlds -- the closeness to him that only comes when you spend the time with him and being the primary care giver; and the freedom of my old life that only comes if you choose to let go.  Clearly it is not possible to have both.

Of course I know this is a phase, it will pass, just like every one has tole me.   Day by day things will get easier.  He will grow, and outgrow some of our expectations.  I just have to embrace the journey, every part of it.

As to returning to work, time will probably make the answer clearer.  For now, I just don't want to think about it.

Jack Jack Christening

Yesterday Jack-Jack had his Christening and we celebrated with a small and intimate gathering of close friends for dinner afterwards.  The day went as smooth as one can wish for.  It was a very long day for little Jack-Jack starting with a photographer session at home in the afternoon (the same person that took my belly shots came back to do our family portraits and also some baby photos), church service in the evening, and a long dinner, but he was so well behaved and only towards the end of the night he was getting uneasy as he was getting too tired.

It was a very special day for us, and a time to reflect on the blessings we have in life -- mic and I were both saying how there's nothing else we want on earth.  We have everything we ever want and ever will want -- a loving family, a beautiful son, and wonderful friendships.

This past week things have certainly gotten a lot better on the PPD front.  First my high school friend's visit last weekend gave me such a boost of confidence that we are doing the right things, gave me a first hand tutorial on how to use a lactation aid, and confirmed that Jack-Jack is healthy despite a little low on the weight (this is coming from the one pediatrician I trust most in the world!).  My confinement lady has left, so I don't have the paid nagging service anymore.  Then my dad and mic's parents came to HK on Monday and my dad was certainly a lot more engaging with an infant than I would have ever imagined and was very good at giving me an extra hand for a few days with little Jack-Jack.  Miraculously the dark cloud was lifted and I was feeling normal again.  Now I am only faced with the normal level of fatigue as a new mother, but the anxiety level has gone down significantly and the confidence level returned.  It's amazing how that change has made everything so much better.  The doctor certainly warned me that relapse is normal, but so far, fingers crossed, things are starting to look up!

PPD Hell

After the pediatrician visit and the breast milk vs formula conflict, I sunk into a dark dark world yesterday.

I had no idea I could lose control of my thoughts and emotions so completely.  

I could literally feel the dark clouds sinking in, the anxiety level rising in my body, the extreme fatigue but unable to rest, the hunger but absolutely zero appetite, and then the feeling of fear, loneliness, helplessness, hopelessness all combined.  I went into an uncontrollable state of sobbing for 2 hours, and no amount of rationalization could bring me out of that dark hole.  Even my confinement lady got scared and came to check on me and prayed over me.  At least I was clear headed enough to call a doctor while I was in that state, and he made an appointment for me with a psychiatrist that very afternoon and called mic to come home to be with me.  

I have never seen a psychiatrist before in my life.  I have to say just the first sight of the clinic looked like a cold asylum, sending the strong message -- "you had to be mad to be here".  The psychiatrist visit confirmed that my condition has long passed the normal baby blues stage but is a moderate degree of postpartum depression, and suggested a prescription of a few months of anti-depressants combined with anti-anxiety pills to get me through this.   I disagreed with his approach and wanted to see if there's a way to get through this without the drugs, especially since I am still breast feeding.  The doctor seemed pretty convinced that the risks were not worth taking, but at the end of the day he cannot force me to take any drugs but wanted to make sure I am closely monitored and warned me that when things deteriorate in PPD, it can happen very quickly as opposed to gradually-- so you can go to the stage of hallucination, even harming oneself without even realizing.  I had to admit that scared me a little, since I am so used to me being in control of myself, but this glimpse into PPD yesterday morning and the repeat episodes of mood swings and crying and anxiety did make me wonder if my will is really stronger than the messed-up chemicals in my brain.

For now, I have decided to do without the drugs.

And perhaps it is because I am fighting the thought of drugs, my body and mind bounced back to normal yesterday evening, trying to prove to myself that I can do this.  It was like the cloud has lifted and I instantly went from hell back to heaven.

I kept on thinking about the richness of love and support I have all around me and feel so blessed.  My high school friend and lactation expert bought her ticket to HK on a moment's notice to come and see me this weekend; my other high school friend is sending me 1500 cc of her frozen breastmilk so I don't have to give Jack-Jack any formula while I am trying to increase my supply and giving him supplements each feed; yet another high school friend and a psychiatrist herself is checking in with me daily to monitor my situation so I am in safe hands even without the drugs.

How can I possibly not get well with all the love and support?

God, please just give me the strength I lack, for I know you have never put in front of a me a challenge that is too great for me to bear; that I will get through this, to be Jack-Jack's healthy and happy mother again.

Failure to Thrive

When people say your happiness level goes down after a child enters your life, it is true.

Don't get me wrong, the joys are tremendous like nothing I have ever experienced.  I weep from joy just by staring down his face when I am nursing him, watching him barely making that little twitch of the lip like he's about to smile.  Every day, he is doing something just a little bit more and better and bringing new joys to us.

At the same time, the challenges it places on me as an individual, on us as a happily married couple before, are also very real.   Part of the reason I have not had a chance to blog, other than being tired and really busy with him, was the past few weeks I was also facing the challenges of PPD (postpartum depression) and battling my own extreme swing of emotions and helplessness.  I have an extremely supportive husband and a wealth of resources but I know at the end of the day the conditions are also real and I needed to get through this by curing my anxious mind and learning to relax.

Yesterday Jack-Jack had his follow-up appointment at the pediatrician for his injections and also check-up.  Long story short, the doctor told us that he's not really gaining enough weight and suggested that we supplement with formula right away.

I was in absolute shock since I thought finally we were getting breastfeeding right, he seems happily fed with more than enough of the recommended diaper output per day, and also we are just slowing starting to get the co-sleeping arrangements right.  The little confidence that was built was yet again shattered into pieces.  The "failure-to-thrive" diagnosis on Jack-Jack's medical receipt was like a verdict on me being an awful mother, a failed mother.

I frantically did more research and spoke to more people about breastfed baby weight gain in the afternoon post the visit and established a game plan to increase my milk supply.  But I couldn't help but wonder if my resistance to formula has actually ended up harming our baby.  Mic and I inevitably got into a heated debate about this.  I totally understand where he's coming from -- as a loving father who is not directly involved in the milk production and feeding, watching your stubborn wife insist on doing things the hard way and things still didn't work out the best for Jack-Jack --- I would be frustrated if I were him.  It didn't help me of course, but I know when both people are tired, busy, sleep deprived, don't really have time to communicate, and have different opinions on how to do things need to sort through this in a less than ideal way, not the calm discussion I wish we had time for, but a heated moment of fighting.  

I know we will get through this, but I couldn't help to think back to that research on freakanomics that mentions on couples with kids ended up less happy than couples without in the short term.   It is true that we have lost most of those calming loving moments for each other, in exchange for an extremely difficult task of raising a new human being together.

But I am also keeping the faith that we will get through this, with love, with hope, with strength from God.

Ear Plugs and Gina Ford

I realized the hardest part of being a mother is self-confidence.  I don't think my level of self confidence has ever been as low as now, and whatever that's been built up by a good day can be easily destroyed by other people's opinion, "kind suggestions", putting me back in the wavering camp again.

I had to first fight my confinement lady on the topic of pumping and giving the bottle in the first month as I was stubborn on complete breast feed, and now I am finally getting a better handle of breast feeding, the challenges of putting a baby to sleep and on a more regular schedule seems next.

I tried the on-demand feeding for the first four weeks.  The frequent night feeds actually don't really bother me that much, but I do have a real problem with hearing Jack-Jack cry for a long period of time and unable to settle him from the crying and putting him to sleep after a feed was really stressful.  Especially when this frequently happens between 11PM and 3AM.

I also came to the conclusion that 100% attachment parenting is not for me.  While I cannot agree with the militant Gina Ford approach, not having any structure in my day, losing all the "me" time and "us" time with mic, constantly tired, sometimes not even able to get up to go to the bathroom does take a toll on me.  So I am trying to slowly learn Jack Jack's cues of what he wants -- hunger, tiredness, need for stimulation/cuddle/comfort, and putting some structure to the day in a more gradual way. The realization came after another tiring night last week of unable to settle him for 4 hours, exhausted, cried (me, not Jack Jack), going through getting up to settle him (since my confinement lady was terrible at that!), and feeling like I couldn't take it anymore and started to put on ear plugs to go to sleep and feeling completely defeated and guilty.  After he eventually settled at 3AM, I lied awake until the morning, a thousand thoughts rushing through my mind, that I really need to do it not any other person's way but my own way.

The first try was quite successful.   We had a reasonable day to start.  I slowed down.  I followed my instincts.  Self confidence came back.

Then yesterday we had a substitute confinement lady, while I liked her a lot (she's able to settle Jack Jack down so easily, unlike my original lady), but she had a very pushy attitude towards pumping and kept on criticizing how I am not giving him enough milk, and my self confidence broke down again.

I had half a day to settle myself down, and a long chat with my aunt, and have to convince myself, that today is a new day.

It will be our day, me and Jack Jack.

I am not going to let anyone else unsettle my self confidence and mother instincts any more, not confinement lady, not Gina Ford, not Baby Whisperer.  It will be our way.

Full Moon Joys and Blues

The past four weeks really went by like a blur, I couldn't remember doing anything but eating, feeding, and sleeping.

After the initial "bliss" phase, we entered into real parenthood.

First the baby blues hit.

I had no idea I had so much tears, there are days I feel like I cried more than little Jack-Jack for no apparent reason (well, I know the reason is the hormone changes, I just didn't expect it to hit me!).  The combination of fatigue from the lack of solid continuous sleep, the initial struggle with breast feeding, the fact that I cannot seem to be able to shed the extra 10 kgs at all, and also feeling sweaty, dirty, and smelly from not being able to take a proper shower during the confinement period and the constant leaking of milk that makes everything you wear look funny.  I felt like an unattractive slob/milk machine with no life of my own in sight.   Also, no one/no books prepared me for the feeling of loneliness that hits after all the excitement, visitors, gifts start to fade away, the days became long and tiring, and lonely.  Even he's still cute as a button and I feel so much love for him, there are times I so crave that adult interaction, someone that can respond when I am talking, and even some tango.

Then the "schedule" debate -- Should we do the Gina Ford/cry it out method and put him on a schedule?  Should we feed on demand or at a three hour interval?  Should we introduce the bottle or do breast exclusively?  Should we let him sleep in the cot or in our bed?  There are no right or wrong answer to any of these questions.   Everyone's experience seem to lead to different advise.  Ultimately, as a new parent, you often just feel utterly helpless.  So many questions but no one can give you the right answer.  For someone who's used to "research leading to results", parenthood is just not something you can apply the same method on.  You have to take the time to learn who your child is, and adapt, adapt, adapt.

Breast feeding was also a big topic I struggled with for quite some time.  I was quite determined to breastfeed, but had no idea that new born babies eat so frequent, and so long.  There are days I feel I have been chained to a single position on the sofa or in bed for 2-3 hours at a time, barely able to fit in a bathroom break for myself.  I was worried at first that he was not latching properly, therefore leading to inefficient eating, and hence the long feeds.  After getting a lactation consultant in for a visit, I finally gave in to the idea to let babies be babies and stop having such high expectations, and just let him drink when he needs/wants to/feels like a nibble.  Even though that still needs to very sore arms (having to stay in the same position for a very long time), but at least it was easier on the mind to not keep on thinking about when the last feed was, how long it was, which side it was on etc.

I stopped analyzing.  Just do it is the more appropriate attitude.

And of course it seems impossible to fit in the time to even write a single blog post.  Last night we had our first "family dinner" -- mic and I sat at the dining table, I had baby strapped to my boobs feeding with the help of a sling -- it was quite a scene, I wish I had taken a picture of this ultimate multi-tasking ability I just learned.

And now I have to log off again.  Screaming baby needs attention.