In Nine Days, I Will Have a Nine-Month-Old on My Hands

Wish me luck.

In fourteen days, I will have an accurate height and head circumference to give you, but in the meantime, I have only a weight to give you an idea of how giant my baby is. As of this Tuesday, Amelia weighed a jaw-dropping 23 lbs 10.6 oz. My dad tried to measure her length with a tape measure and he got approximately 29 inches, but this might not be entirely accurate. She is wearing 12-month pants, but 18- to 24-month everything else. And 2T dresses fit surprisingly well.

All this means that whenever I'm stupid enough to take Amelia on a walk without a stroller or baby carrier, I get insanely jealous of my friends who have babies just as small as Amelia is big. On the other hand, my biceps are insanely grateful that Amelia has given them a reason to live. They used to be shriveled up pieces of limp bacon in my arms, but now someone might even venture to risk calling these babies muscles. Huzzah!

Just before Amelia and I left for our Utah-Arizona adventure, our home visitor from Healthy Start¹ gave her an eight-month developmental assessment. She had extraordinary fine motor skills... but on the other hand, there were some things to worry about. Namely, Amelia had roughly zero interest in food (or even putting anything in her mouth as it seems most babies her age do incessantly) and roughly zero interest in mobility. They gave me tips on how to encourage her to move² and to mouth things, but I feel like these were fruitless attempts at getting a horse to drink the water I just led it to.

WELL. Fast forward to now. Apparently there was absolutely no need to worry, because now does exhibit interest in these things. It happened suddenly, too... like somebody flipped a switch in her brain.


Amelia is a voracious food-lover, despite having a zero tooth-count³. If I'm eating it, she's gotta have it too. Her first actually swallowed food item was a few soggy green beans from a beef soup at Sizzler while we were in Provo. I wasn't sure whether to believe the disappearance of these green beans meant Amelia had actually consumed them--until, that is, I rediscovered them in her diaper, smelling like decaying flesh.

Zoinks, solid-fed baby poop is exponentially worse than exclusively-breastfed baby poop. I am thus now more enthusiastic than ever about elimination communication. As satisfying as it is to flush breastmilk poop down the toilet without having to wipe more than a dab of it off baby's bum, it is that much more satisfying to NOT have to wipe caked solids poop out of Amelia's many rolls and crevices. Plus, when baby poops directly into the toilet, the blessed water covers the fetid waste so you don't have to smell it so much. Viva toilet seat reducers!

Forgive the TMI tangent there.

Anyway, Amelia has enjoyed everything we've given her tastes of. We've decided that, given her personality, Amelia will do well with baby-led weaning⁴, so we'll be skipping the pureés entirely. I didn't know there was yet ANOTHER⁵ nonconformist parenting method we could practice, but there you go. I found yet another. I really need to start hugging trees or something.

Amelia's diet is still mostly breastmilk and I'm hoping to keep it that way at least until she's one year old. And then I will continue to breastfeed on demand until she finally weans herself entirely. There are so many benefits for doing so that I just couldn't imagine weaning early (prior to two years old).

That said, the one disadvantage of breastfeeding (besides Amelia's constant sour cream breath) is that the high prolactin levels my body is producing while breastfeeding are preventing me ovulating still. So no more babies yet. Problem is, I am so pumped and ready for baby number two, it's not even funny.⁶

I suppose some (or even most) might see lactational amenorrhea as a huge boon, but after heavy consideration I have decided to listen to my instinct: I think my body won't do as well with pregnancy as I get older due to my scoliosis and Harrington rods. A few of my health providers suspect this as well. So in that regard, it will be wiser to have all⁷ my babies ASAP. James is okay with this plan, so hopefully the next kid'll come soon.

Gosh, I'm just going on all sorts of tangents today. Back to Amelia consuming stuff.

While Amelia and I were in Arizona, she fussed a bit more than usual. At first I was confused, but thankfully it didn't take me long to figure out what she was trying to communicate: I'M RIDICULOUSLY THIRSTY, MOM! PARCHED! I'M SHRIVELLING UP INTO A BABY RAISIN OVER HERE! SAVE ME!

So, she picked up water-drinking skills fairly quickly. She's now fairly proficient at using water bottles and regular cups. She doesn't really get straws, and we haven't even tried a sippy cup yet. But cups and water bottles? Oh man. "Drink the Water" is the best game ever. She'll actually pull the cup or bottle back if you try to take it away, even if her thrist seems to be momentarily quenched. If she's already gorged on water, she'll take more sips anyway, and spit it out all over herself.⁸

Amelia is... quasi-mobile. By that I mean that she can't purposely move from Point A to Point B. But she definitely moves. She can thus far only scoot backwards while on her hands and knees, so she usually gets further away from her intended destination. This seems to frustrate her to no end.

However, there are signs that she will be fully mobile soon. The desire is clearly there. I've seen her rocking back and forth on her hands and knees several times. Once, after a several-minute concentrated effort of intensely deliberate coordination, I saw her bring one of her knees forward--and then she collapsed. So close, and yet so far.

Amelia also has been experimenting with what I call the Spiderman pose. Both hands on the ground, one leg bent up with foot on the ground, and the other leg fully extended out to the side. Spiderman pose. Part of me hopes she somehow adapts this into a Spiderman crawl, because we'd get so many nerd points that I'd cry many tears of intense parental nerd joy.

On the other hand, there is a slight possibility she may start walking and skip the crawling altogether. She'll take a few steps if she holds onto my hands, though she isn't cruising along the edges of furniture yet. The girl IS pulling herself up to stand... and sometimes, just pushing up off her feet from the sitting-on-the-potty position directly to the standing position, with nothing to hold onto. Thankfully, she can't maintain that for more than a few seconds yet. We may yet have time.

Amelia is quite talkative and makes all sorts of speech-like sounds. She does say, "MAMAMAMAMAMAMAAAA!" when distressed, but I don't feel she equates "mama" with me yet. Oh well. My mother is convinced Amelia is starting to imitate our speech because she'd say "gooh" over and over again after reading Goodnight Moon; I, however, remain unconvinced. Though... I will admit that by the end of my visit to Arizona, I did find myself wondering if I was just imagining her saying "geeyuk" everytime she saw a cat and "guhg-guhg" everytime the dog came to visit her. And this morning, I said, "Good morning, Amelia!" and smiled smiled real big and responded, "Gooh!"

So far we have been spared stranger anxiety. For this I am immensely grateful, as travelling alone with a stranger-anxious baby could have been overwhelming. Instead, she is totally confident in herself and flashes grins at all the old ladies everywhere we go. And also any novel-looking people who have such unique qualities like beards, tattoos, sunglasses, or lots of jewelry. Thus, going out and about is always a treat.⁹

I guess besides Amelia getting wiser and stronger everyday, the only other news is that our family has decided to start eating nutritarian again. Permanently. Yay! I might do another post a bit later explaining what this means and why we're doing it, as well as how we plan to teach Amelia to eat well too. However, I'm beginning to tire of typing, so I'll save that subject matter for yet another day.

Love and nutrients,
Jenna and Amelia


1 Someone comes over every week to see how Amelia and I are doing. They also inform me about stuff going on in the community that might be helpful. To be honest, I decided to do the Healthy Start program because they give out free kids' books. What can I say? I'm a sucker for free books.^↩

2 One of the most common pieces of advice I've been given to help Amelia develop gross motor skills is to put a much-desired toy just out of her reach. This has been largely ineffectual. I've discovered though that she is most enthusiastic to get to ME if I am just out of reach.^↩

3 I don't know when her teeth will suddenly appear. It's supposed to be largely genetically determined. My mom tells me my teeth started coming in around six months, Becca's a bit after that, and Jessi's were latest around nine months. I don't know when Dilts babies usually get teeth.^↩

4 Not to be confused with child-led weaning. Which we are also doing.^↩

5 Besides cloth diapering, that is. Thus far, we haven't been doing it solely because it would cost us $3 per load in our apartment complex's communal laundry facilities. Otherwise we'd have done it from the start. We're excited, though, to start cloth diapers in December once we live in a place with washer and dryer hookups. Woot! We are moving up in life! Washer and dryer!^↩

6 How this feeling came about, and more specifically, how it lived through Amelia's six months of colic, I couldn't begin to tell you.^↩

7 My current fantasy is ten babies. Yes, you read that right. And yes, while I was pregnant, I was the one saying I don't know if I could do it more than one more time. It'll be interesting to see how I feel during my second pregnancy.^↩

8 This apparently deliberate spitting makes me wonder how futile a sippy cup would be.^↩

9 For Amelia anyway. Sometimes I miss being able to go out in public without people being friendly and talkative at me. Amelia seems to be a people-magnet.^↩

Still Alive

I've been posting less frequently. I'm not sure why that is, but I think it is paradoxically because things are getting easier. You see, blogging is sometimes a release. And right now I don't really feel a whole bunch that I'd like to release. Okay, that's not true... anything I'd like to release to the general Internet populace. (And you thought I shared everything. Try not to feel too betrayed.) So yeah. We are all, indeed, still alive.

Good news! I am becoming more and more convinced that taking Amelia to the chiropractor has changed her disposition so that she's a super happy baby. It's absolutely wonderful. She smiles so much more. Now, when she smiles at strangers and they say she's a good baby¹, I actually agree that yes, Amelia is quite the joy to have around.

She's so good-mannered that I think James has even succumbed to her baby powers. At least once a day I hear him say something along the lines of "She's SO cuuute!" in a high-pitched voice. Before he decided not to check Facebook so often, I had to be careful not to post too many cute baby pictures on Facebook, or else James would no longer be able to concentrate. Once he got Amelia cravings, so we had to visit him at lunchtime.

She's starting to get better at playing alone. And by alone, I mean someone is sitting next to her and she is ignoring them while playing. If you try to go into the next room to, say, cook up a masterpiece of a meal that will make your husband worship your shadow for 3.1415 years, SQUAWK.

Amelia likes books. She's sometimes quite adept at page turning. She's quite studious.

She's still fond of her potty, though yesterday she nearly stood up off of it. Her whole butt was in the air and everything. Eep! I also discovered that she can stand up by holding onto the couch. I guess it's only a matter of time before she's cruising and walking along the edges of furniture. Eep! She's not crawling yet, though. Maybe she'll figure out how to do that while we're at my parents house. There's a dog and some cats she might get motivated to chase.

Amelia can pick up Cheerios with her thumb and forefinger in a pincer grip. Our home visitor and a couple motor development researchers were super impressed. They tell me this takes some pretty complicated brain processing to do, so at her age, it's impressive. Maybe I should brag about her pincer grip more often if it's so impressive... Nah. My face (particularly my nose) does not appreciate that pincer grip very much. Oooh, and neither do my inner upper arms. She like to pinch me there while nursing. I've taken to wearing baby pants on my arms occasionally.

Still not really eating. Whatever. We offer her food to play with. Sometimes she will taste it. So far she seems more fond of vegetables than fruit. Weird. She has even less interest in baby food. Speaking of which, we'd decided not to bother with purées. So. If you live in the Springfield area and have an avid purée-eater, we have tons and tons of jars of baby food and a couple of packages of baby cereal that were all given to us. These need a home. Let me know.

She's making some very speech-like sounds. She sounds like many teenagers I know. ("Blah blah blah blah...") Hmm. What else... Ooh. Amelia reminds me of a little scientist carefully performing trials over and over and over again.

I'm doing all right too. I've been reading a lot. My goal is to read and return all my library books before I leave on my trip to Utah and Arizona.

Love and science,
Jenna and Amelia


1 I know they all mean "easy" baby, but I think it's awful to imply that any baby that isn't easy is a "bad" baby. All babies are good babies.^↩

Upcoming Adventures

Eeee! Because James will be going to several math conferences in the next few months, I decided the coming months would be an ideal time to visit far-away friends and family before Amelia gets too big to share a plane seat with me. I'm super excited!

So the plan is this.

Firstly, I'll fly down to Utah to visit friends at BYU before they all graduate and scatter across the country. Maybe say hello to some family members and such... I'll stay for a week, staying at least part of the time with Clifton, Amanda, and baby Kate. Theoretically I will also say hello to the Copes and get tasty blueberry waffles.

Then Amelia and I will fly down to Arizona where my parents (and several other relatives) are. I'll be there for two weeks or so. I've heard that my home ward was split since I visited last, so I'll visit both wards with heavy fan club populations. I assume I'll go to my parents' ward first, then go to the other ward the subsequent Sunday. I am secretly hoping I'll get tons of invitations for dinner. (Just thought I'd plant that suggestion in your mind.)

Woo! Excited! After those three weeks are up I will return home and be (mildly) gross with James at the baggage claim.

But this isn't all! Most of James' family (with the notable exception of his dad) will be going on a cross-country road trip. They will eventually make it all the way from Pennsylvania to Oregon. Amelia and I may accompany them on the drive back to Pennsylvania and then we can fly back. I'm not sure who we'll see on the way back, but I assume there will be a number of far-flung relatives involved.

And then after all that I will come home... And then pack up all our stuff and put it in a storage unit. Then James, Amelia, and I will likely live in Berkeley, California for three months so that James can hang out with tons of researchers who also research general relativity.

I am pretty excited about this prospect, because when James originally told me about this three-month thingy, we assumed that he would have to go alone, and that I would be living all alone with a baby for the entire fall. I was sad about it, but I had a strong feeling that I should encourage him to go because it was important. I hadn't imagined that we could get funding to go with him! How exciting!

Then, when we get back to the Eugene-Springfield area, we will move into a new apartment. We don't know if it will still be in the same ward, but we figured since we'd be moving anyway, we should move in to a place with a washer and dryer hookup. And carpet. And without stairs. There's a place in our ward jokingly called Little Provo that meets these specifications, but we're far from certain about where we'll end up.

Amelia is pseudo-mobile. She's been scooting along the floor...backwards. She's just gone halfway across the room. And now she's frustrated.

Love and travels,
Jenna and Amelia

P.S. I randomly decided what to call our next child while he our she is in utero... Microraptor. Number three will be Triceratops.
P.P.S. No, I am not pregnant. As far as I know anyway.

Six Months Old Already

Today was Amelia's six month checkup. For the hardcore Amelia fans, here are the stats.

Height: 26.75 inches (90th percentile)
Weight: 21 lbs 9.5 oz (above the 95th percentile)
Head circumference: 17.25 inches (90th percentile)
Shots: one in her right thigh and one in her left thigh (she whine-cried for about five seconds, then promptly shut up once I picked her up)
Development: mostly pretty average, very good at interacting with people, very interested in surroundings... not at all interested in rolling over (she is, however, capable of doing so; I saw her do it once on Monday)
Comments from the pediatrician: "She is always so bright-eyed and intent!"

Diaper size: 4
Shirt size: 12 month (snug) to 2T (somewhat loose)
Pants size: 9 month
Sock size: 18-36 month
Cuteness factor: ludicrously cute

She will also be starting fluoride drops every day since there isn't any fluoride in the water here. And we like pearly white teeth around here.

Oh, and since the doctor's noticed Amelia wheezing on more than one occasion (as have we), we are trying an albuterol inhaler until Monday to see if it helps. The idea is to deal with the wheezing now before she'd need a steroid inhaler, because those have some not so pleasant side effects for kids. The wheezing is probably completely unrelated to Amelia's fussiness. I also asked it she was wheezing because she's so fat. The answer is no. Bum.

Speaking of which, I have to confess I like Amelia's naked baby bum. I always thought it was weird when my dad would tell my bum used to fit in his hand. But now I understand. Baby bums are cute.

Amelia has continued to be regularly fussy. For all of you who were telling me a month and a half ago that she's teething... there are no teeth in that little mouth of hers yet. And things that are supposed to numb the gums don't seem to help. Nor do any traditional teething pain remedies. Oh well.

I assume most, if not all, of you have been following Amelia's progress on Facebook. But in case you haven't been, she underwent a slew a tests, all of which were normal. Lots and lots of blood tests... some stool tests... and a head ultrasound.

So, the only thing left to try, I've decided, is chiropractic adjustment. (The idea is, a baby might get a pinched nerve during a traumatic birth or something. And I don't know if birth was traumatic for Amelia per se, but at the very least her entire head was a giant bruise when she came out. It's possible.) I'd been putting it off, because our insurance doesn't cover a lot of the chiropractors in town, including many of the ones that are good with babies.

But! One of our friends (who also has a baby about six months old) has a dad who is a chiropractor... and he'll adjust her weekly for free for anywhere from six weeks to three months. Also exciting for me? He just happens to be a preferred provider for our insurance, so I can get adjusted too. Woo!

The bad news... Dr. Clifton is fifty minutes away. I should remind you that Amelia has made her feelings about car rides abundantly clear: car rides are akin to torture.

Well, we made the journey on Monday. By the time we got there, I was a wreck. You try driving that long with a screaming baby. Now don't get lost or killed. I did take a wrong turn somewhere too. And, as if that wasn't stressful enough, somehow I ended up with a horn-happy truck behind me who'd honk angrily anytime I braked at all. Not exactly sure how I ticked the driver off so much, but clearly, I did.

We made it, and the chiropractor adjusted a few places for Amelia. Her legs now appear to be the same length, whereas it at first seemed her left leg was shorter.

My adjustment was much more of a process. They took an x-ray of my neck. It is bending the wrong way. "Wow. You DO need to be adjusted," was the doctor's comment. And so I was adjusted in about a gerjillion places. I am suddenly sleeping better, and I don't have any headaches or other aches. Magic. Yes, I  do indeed think there should be more chiropractic adjustments in my life.

I'm not sure what to tell you about how Amelia's been since her adjustment. Here are my observations, though. For one, she hasn't cried during any car rides. This is highly unusual. She has had some major crying spells, but besides one exception, those seemed to have obvious causes... like being really, really tired... or really, really bored. There has also been a slight increase in good naps. I was also surprised at how her shots today seemed to be no big deal. (A little deal, yes, but only worth crying about for a few seconds, apparently.)

So, at least for a little while, Amelia and I will be travelling to Lebanon every Monday to see the chiropractor. I'm pretty sure I'll at least benefit from it, even if Amelia doesn't. And she does seem to like the staff. While I was being adjusted, she perfectly happy "helping" the receptionists.

Anyway, I've also been wanting to do another "a day in the life" post, but I'm not sure I have enough time tonight. Instead, I guess, I'll write a letter to Amelia about what she is like now.

Dear Amelia,

I do believe you are developing a sense of humor... and the capacity to giggle. You think it's funny when I make exaggerated chewing sounds, and when I pretend to eat your belly. I don't think you're ticklish. You enjoy sticking your tongue out. Your favorite sounds to make are spit gurgles and raspberries.

One of my favorite things is your face first thing in the morning. Although I admit I dread when you open your eyes because I'd usually like to sleep another four or five hours, I find that my heart melts when I see you twist your head up to see if I'm awake yet. I usually pretend I'm still asleep. You wiggle and wiggle and wiggle impatiently. And when I finally open my eyes, you immediately flash your biggest grin.

I do my best to entertain you all day while dad is at school and while Auntie Beek is at work, but I think you get bored with me pretty quickly. I often find that when I am unable to console, your dad will waltz on in from a long day at work, and you will be just tickled pink to see him. You really like to play with dad. I sometimes think I must be boring.

But perhaps I'm not all that boring. I think you might be the most fun for me after you've gotten bored with dad in the evenings. I'll take you back, and you are all full of grins. This is the time of day when I am most likely to get some giggles out of you. Your giggles are the best, particularly after a long day of mostly just screams.

Sometimes at night you make it way too hot for a blanket. It's okay, though. You're a pretty good cuddle buddy. You somehow push both of us across the bed at least a foot during the night. I think this happens because I move over a few inches when you're done nursing in the night. And then I wake up to find you snug up against me, bobbing for nipples.

We are getting kind of good at communicating. You've gotten into the habit of leaving your mouth wide, wide open if you're hungry. Sometimes you will try to suck on my cheeks or my chin when you're hungry. Or sometimes, you try to latch on through my shirt. You are never successful.

Yesterday you sat up unsupported for nearly three minutes. You only sit up when you are in the mood to do so, though. It's fairly often that we will try to sit you up, but you lock your legs and refuse to do anything but stand. You also seem to enjoy being held upside down. Strange child.

You are terrified of the blender. Also the popcorn popper. You cling to me when those make noise. And, if you're asleep, you scream yourself awake like you just had a nightmare of mechanical horrors.

You do not like diapers. I caught you yesterday morning with your diaper half-off, and this morning I found you scratching at it. You much prefer to use the potty. I don't blame you. You also seem to dislike clothing. I have discovered that it is far easier and far less traumatic to wrap you in a blanket when going outside than to try and strap you into a sweater or coat.

You like going to storytime at the library. Not only do you enjoy the songs, I think you particularly like to watch all the toddlers be exciting. It also seems that, among strangers, kids are your biggest fans. Today while we were at the pharmacy, some little girls came up and told me how cute you were. They danced for you while I was preoccupied with the pharmacist. Just before that when I was strapping you in the shopping cart seat, a boy told me how cute you were. Then he told me all about what he was going to buy in the store.  At the doctors office, some other kids stared at you, then tugged on their parents' sleeves and pointed you out. Things like this happen all the time.

It seems you would really like to crawl, but so far you fail miserably at it. Instead, you do a kind of Army scoot... you dig your face into the ground, essentially smothering yourself, and then you push yourself forward a few inches with your feet. You don't roll over very much. I've only seen you do it once. I think you only did it because you were avoiding getting your eyes clawed out by another baby. (Your eyes are shiny, you know.) You particularly enjoy playing your feet.

You haven't started eating solid foods yet, although I suppose you are technically old enough now. Your only interest in food seems to be in watching us intently when we eat it... and I think you were determined to squish yourself some sweet, messy raspberries tonight. You are always very confused if we ever offer you any food to eat. You are definitely a mama's milk girl.

I love you lots, Amelia. I think you must be pretty smart, because you're always so intently studying everything. You are so studious. Sometimes I suspect you'll have everything figured out by the end of the week.

Love you forever and like you for always,
Mom

Gorg

I'll bet that word wasn't in your vocabulary. Gorg is something one says when quite tired, but happy, but also impatient for a break, and even a hint of ice cream craving. Hrm.

Little Miss Amelia has not really given us (or me?) much of a break. About half of the time, she's either crying or we're desperately trying to distract her because she's on the verge of crying. It's great fun! I'm reasonably certain she is, indeed, teething. I think I might feel her two bottom front teeth just below the top of her gums... but then that could be wishful thinking, right? Possibly. But the fact remains: no teeth yet. And she's been fussy since about six weeks old and this last month has been pretty bad too.

The last week or so has been doubly awful. Tylenol is no longer magical. For some unexplained reason, she's been even fussier! Eep!

Well, I took her to the doctor Wednesday morning to verify that she doesn't have something else obvious going on in addition to teething... something like an ear infection, or appendicitis, or, or, or... cancer! Brain cancer. Yeah. Or an aneurysm.

Lest you think I'm seriously stressing about the possibility of some lethal disease, I should point out that I'm about 99.5% certain that she is just teething. I do appreciate having proof though. I like to be able to say, Yeah, I'm right. And then when someone says, Oh yeah? Prove it, I like to be able to prove it.

So yeah. Doctor visit. No ear infection. Completely normal physical exam. Of course Amelia was screaming inconsolably the entire time. It was exciting.

Dr. Pelinka said she wasn't sure enough (that Amelia is only teething or that she just has a difficult temperament) to just dismiss her fussiness. Why? Because she's been fussy so consistently for so long... and most fussy babies turn into sunny creatures by three and a half months. Amelia is five and a half months old. So the pediatrician sent me home saying she'll call later after talking to her colleagues about Amelia.

Well, I did get a call back and the consensus among the pediatricians is that Amelia is most likely perfectly healthy. But then, she might not be. So the plan? First, some stool studies. If Amelia's still fussy after a few more days, some blood studies. If those are normal and Amelia is still a banshee, brain ultrasound. Oh, and lucky mom should try going dairy-free for a few weeks.

Oh, gorg. I really, really like dairy. And worse, I've been eating quite a bit simply for convenience's sake. Now I had gone dairy-free for four or five days a few months ago. If anything, Amelia got fussier during those days. And then when I ate dairy again she had a great couple of days. That was good enough for me at the time, figuring that I could go all out a little later if needed.

So yeah. I'm going all-out dairy-free until just before Amelia's six-month checkup on the 20th. That way, before Amelia sees the doctor again, I'll also get to see what happens when I reintroduce cow milk.

We ended up needing the blood studies. Unfortunately, they needed lots of blood, so they decided to try getting it venously.

Oh, it was so awful. Apparently these phlebotomists usually get it on the first try, even with fat babies. Amelia was not so fortunate. The three nice phlebotomists tried to get baby's blood venously FOUR times, all to no avail. Poor Amelia was absolutely hysterical.

The worst thing was that I couldn't nurse the poor baby per lab policy... they're afraid of her choking. Seriously? So sad. The phlebotomists apologized every time they failed, promising that they wouldn't have stuck her again if they hadn't been fairly sure they'd get a vein.

I wasn't sure which would have been less traumatizing for Amelia: staying there and continuing to attempt to get her blood, or coming back another day and starting this whole ordeal over again. It's hard to make decisions like that when your baby has been screaming at the top of her lungs for half-an-hour straight.

I decided to stay. I didn't think they'd be more successful on a different day... Amelia'd be just as chubby (if not chubbier) in a few days, and her veins would be just as thin.

Instead of trying venously for the fifth time, they finally just poked her left ring finger and milked for blood until they had filled eight of those baby-sized vials.

It was really hard on me, though I couldn't claim it was as hard on me as it was on Amelia.

Anyway, the stool and blood studies are already back. Mostly normal... and the abnormal things are the sort of things that aren't necessarily abnormal, if you know what I mean. For instance, an inflammation marker was high. And one of the stool tests maybe could possibly indicate the teensiest bit of malabsorption. So we'll probably repeat that test in a couple weeks.

So tomorrow I get to schedule a brain ultrasound which will probably turn out normal. We figured we might as well do that before her fontanels close, because after that happens we'll only be able to image her brain via a more expensive and radiationy method, like an MRI or a CT scan.

I confess that I've secretly wanted to see images of Amelia's brain. These are the urges that afflict mothers with neuroscience degrees. It seems this wish will be fulfilled. I should be less excited.

I've also been trying desperately to get Amelia to sleep for more hours each day, hoping she'll be happier if she's less tired. It's not turning out to be easy, partly because she's obviously having a hard time. And I'm not sure sleeping more is improving her mood, but we'll keep trying.

We're trying to get her to bed earlier each night too. We hadn't been doing that hard-core at all, because James often gets home at the time Amelia should be in bed. And well, I don't want her to miss out on too much daddy time. Oh, I'd like some me time too. Secondly, all the exciting stuff (like hanging with Paul, Cassie, Matt and Shanna) happens at night. I need to get out of the house to stay sane, but Amelia is absolutely not ready to be babysat... particularly because she doesn't sleep unless I'm next to her. Darn. Still not sure where the appropriate balance for this is.

Well, hopefully she'll go through a happy phase soon, and we can work on teaching her fall asleep and stay asleep on her own. At the very least, I am happy to report that she is able to stay asleep about half the time without staying attached to my chest. This is progress, I'd say.

Sigh. I don't know if I'll ever get around to that "a day in the life" post for five months. Oh well. Stay tuned for the six-month edition. Hopefully, I will find time to write it.

Love and brains,
Jenna and Amelia

The Next Challenge

It's quite possible that Amelia is teething, but there's a big part of me that remains skeptical because long ago everyone and their dog posited that possibility as an explanation for her fussy behavior. I suppose I won't be completely convinced until she cuts her first tooth.

Nevertheless, the past few days have been even more challenging than normal. She's even more irritable than usual and definitely less playful. She's usually in a great mood first thing in the morning, but lately she's having a hard time having fun.

The child is constantly attempting to cram her entire fist in her face and is furious that this doesn't seem to be working too well. She's also nursing even more than usual. Teething rings and toys aren't too popular, though. Neither are cold rags. Perhaps I should be alarmed by the lifetime preference for human flesh.

Drool always adorns her face and she keeps trying to bite my fingers and knees. I give her gum massages and they help... though not for long. (My secret to smooth, soft, beautiful skin is baby drool. Call me if you want some for your own beauty regime.)

I eventually just didn't know what else to do, so I brought out the Tylenol. I kid you not, this has made all the difference in the world. The post-Tylenol Amelia is sunny and playful... or dead asleep. I'm a little confused about the sleeping, though. Fatigue to this degree isn't really a common side effect. My best guess is that the teething pain has made it difficult (or perhaps impossible) for Amelia to sleep deeply, so once she's not screaming or writhing in what looks like excruciating pain, she immediately packs her bags and takes a train to dreamland.

In other news, I had a little episode of mommy burnout. I'd recently determined not to complain to just anybody about such things, but in moments of weakness I break down and ask for advice. This often ends up only discouraging me further, since people offer advice that worked for them... and, well, I don't think very many of my friends have children with temperaments like Amelia's. Perhaps they think I exaggerate and they think that, in reality, Amelia is more like their own babies than I'd care to admit.

No, I don't think Amelia is like all those other babies. But can I blame people for thinking that she probably is? No. No, I cannot.

I made the same mistake at first: that is, I assumed everyone else's baby was just like Amelia. I have slowly come to realize that this is simply not so.

It took dozens of times hearing the exclamation "I can't believe you want to nurse again, baby! It's only been three hours!" tumble from the lips of other mothers for me to realize that seriously, their babies are usually perfectly satisfied nursing only every few hours. What a novel idea.

And I started hearing other moms pining after the sacred nap time, a time when baby sleeps (and stays asleep) alone and mom can have some time to herself. And maybe cook or clean something. How perplexing. Maybe I'm just not putting baby down as gently as they put their babies down or something. Nope.

And then I hear mothers praising the almighty swing. I joined in too, saying that every once in a while, it tricked Amelia into thinking she was still in my arms long enough for me to eat breakfast. And then I realized that many babies stay asleep for HOURS in a swing. And I ran across several warnings not to leave your baby in a swing for more than x number of hours... when they're awake. James and I were surprised and wondered aloud, "What?! There are babies that let you leave them--awake--in a swing--for hours?" I'm not sure I'd believe it even if I saw it.

It took me months to realize, deep down, that everyone else's baby is not like mine. And then, during mommy burnout, I forgot. When I got a ton of recommendations to hire a babysitter and go do something without Amelia... I began to doubt myself. Perhaps everyone and their dog is right. Perhaps I do need to do what everyone else does and leave Amelia with someone else for a while. But it didn't feel right.

So I did what I always do when I feel like something isn't right: I prayed for clarification. I prayed a lot. I even got a priesthood blessing for strength and comfort. Well, of course that helped tremendously. I have no idea what happens to other people's babies when they're left behind, but I know Amelia, and I need to stay with her. And you know what else? Yes, I needed to recharge, but I found out that there are ways to recharge while keeping the baby with me.

I feel a lot better now. I recharged... by going out. With the baby, but I went out. I went shopping. I hung out with other moms and their babies, and we had some nice adult conversations without a hint of sing-song voices or nonsense. I spent time with friends. And I feel 100%... and I never had to leave Amelia during one of the more difficult parts of her life so far. Whaddaya know? The Man Upstairs knows what He's talking about. Even better: I'd been feeling so alone, like I'm the only mom with a high-need baby among all my acquaintances... I discovered that one of my friends also has a high-need baby. Yay (for me)!

And besides... I honestly believe there isn't a babysitter on the planet who could handle Amelia. And honestly, time without the baby isn't all that relaxing.for me. Most importantly, it's awful for Amelia. Someday she'll be ready to let me leave her alone for a while. Not yet, though.

The other big thing I needed to do to feel better? Stop comparing myself to others.

Anyway, Amelia is sad that I'm not nursing.

Love and lactose,
Jenna and Amelia

Chubby Baby

While I was pregnant, I would have told you I didn't have any real expectations about what Amelia would be like. I mean, I was openminded to having any baby from a wide range of babyness.

It turns out that I did have expectations, actually. I expected her to fit within two (maybe two and a half) standard deviations of the mean... in all parameters.

I think Miss Amelia is exceptional in two regards: her size and her temperament.

Amelia is not exceptionally long... just fat, very fat. Mostly in her cheeks, legs, and arms. Designers of baby clothes did not have Amelia in mind when they were doing their jobs. It seems that most clothes are way too big on my daughter, except in ONE dimension... i.e. a pair of pants is way too long on her, but we can't get the waist of the the pants over her massive thighs and butt; roomy shirts that squeeze Amellia's arms like sausage casing.

And of course Amelia Rose will not tolerate tight clothing.

Sewing skills would have come in handy right about now... if I had any.

The end result is that we go up yet another size and have to roll up sleeves and pant legs. And then her clothes drape over her like a tent on a small hippo.

Amelia will be 20 pounds in a matter of days (if she isn't already) and wears size 4 diapers since the size 3s are beginning to squeeze her thighs a little too tightly. She is 4.5 months old. I am currently collecting clothing in the following sizes: 18 month, 24 month, and 2T. Except for pants... those vary wildly in fit-ability. We have 6-month pants that fit her perfectly. We also have 18-month pants that WILL NOT fit over her chunk-o-thighs.

Love and liquid cheesecake,
Jenna and Amelia