Gardening with a Baby

I googled this theme and did not come up with many helpful suggestions. I wanted some advice on how to carry your baby while gardening, what kinds of contraptions to rig to put your baby down where he would be happy, safe, and relatively bug-free. Perhaps I rely too much on the google. We'll just have to be innovative.

We started with O in the car seat, which only lasted about six minutes before he would squirm and cry unhappily. I would then put him in the baby bjorn, which worked alright for him but I could only water and not really bend over. We also tried "the grandparent", which is very effective but time-sensitive and not always available.


We have settled on bringing his bouncy chair and putting him under whatever source of shade is available, from the neighbor's raspberries to our ever-expanding sunflowers. It seems to work pretty well. We also put down a blanket with a blue and white umbrella over the top and he seems to like kicking his legs up and feeling the breeze. Now that we finally have a comfortable situation for him, I think he's getting out of gardening what I'd hoped: exposure to the sounds, sights and feel of nature, from the birds to the soft breezes to just getting his eyes filled up with all the different shades of green.


Let me back up and explain a bit more about our garden. (First, see my other post about our community garden plot.) Last year our plot was prolific. We had broccoli, tomatoes, tomatillos, strawberries, daikon, corn, arugula, cucumbers, pumpkins, peppers, eggplant, artichoke, spinach, lettuce, and sunflowers. We also had an earlier start and an easier time gardening pre-baby. This year, we got a notice in May saying that we needed to tend to our garden or give it up. We had visited once to survey but didn't get started until O was about one month old. We gave them our reasons and got to work. In the fall, Shannon had become disinterested in gardening and I had become increasingly larger and less mobile, so we didn't "put our garden to bed" as we should have. Thus, we returned to mostly weeds. It took some work to clear out, but some brilliant person had brought a ton of used burlap sacks from coffee shops in to kill weeds. We covered most of our plot with these sacks.


We also learned that in our absence, a killdeer family had nested in our plot, and people staked out the nest so no one would disturb it. We felt glad that we had inadvertently provided a space for another fledging family.


Other changes had occurred in our absence. A number of the plots had not sold, so the city decided to give them away to immigrant families in the area. We now have about five plots being worked by Eastern European families who have brought with them their knowledge of cold-weather gardening and have created amazing structures (cold frames I guess, though they are solid enough to call green houses). These families must have some agreement to raise food for their community, because there are so many tomatoes they could feed hundreds of people!


With new community members comes some strife, of course, and it came in the form of cultural misunderstandings. I have noticed that some of the greatest issues between cultures has to do with the use of space. In this case, I think being helpful has been confused with being invasive at times. We so far have thoroughly enjoyed the exchange. Shannon can speak a small bit of Russian, which quickly ingratiated us with George and Maria, who have given us tomato plants, cucumbers and a great big zucchini. When I asked George what kinds of tomatoes we got, he said "good". But apparently, not everyone had this experience. Early on, a woman came up to me to complain about pillows in the shed which might lead to homelessness (or something like that. I couldn't quite follow). She began yelling at me as a way to get me on her side (not effective, obviously) and in her rant, she said something about "the war with the Russians and you have to pick a side". I decided she was crazy and tried not to find out too much more about any war with the "Russians", who are not Russian. On the other hand, it has helped me to see others advocating for each other where I did not expect. A woman who can sometimes be interested in drama was defending the Eastern European families by explaining the difference in how people view ownership, and mentioning that they were impressively multi-lingual. Ultimately, we all will grow from this experience.

So, back to our plot: this year we have not taken on as much. We are being realistic about what we can handle (though with donations from George, our plans have changed a bit). So far we have seven tomato plants (two volunteers from last year's heirlooms), two butternut squash, a tepee trellis of green beans, a whole bed of strawberries, six broccoli plants, onions, arugula, cucumbers, three peppers, eggplants, and sunflowers. Actually, it sounds like a lot. We still have paths of burlap sacks and a small and dwindling weedy section, but it is a great work in progress, and now we have another person to share it with, which makes it even more meaningful.

The Plight of an Oregonian

Some say that summer actually starts here after the Fourth of July. When I finally resign myself to this expectation, I have a much more enjoyable summer. Many Oregonians live in constant denial and June is a whole series of disappointments. Well, the disappointments actually start in April, when we are ready for just one glimpse of the sun. If we do see the sun for an afternoon, there are more accidents because everyone gets crazed or blinded by the light. I have the Oregonian's plight, where if the sun comes out on a weekend, I am frantic to get outside and enjoy it at all costs. If it's rainy, I can stay inside all day on a Saturday. Shannon, a total homebody from Arizona, is completely unaffected by the weather and thinks I'm wonky. 

But once summer actually starts here, it is the best summer in the world. I've been to other summers in the world, so I can say that. July and August are filled with warm, occasionally hot, long, dry days. The weather is perfect for ripening the sweetest berries, pushing forth tomatoes and even peppers in a good year. 


As a teacher, I should really live in Arizona during the school year and vacation here. The time that I can leave is the best time to stay. I became a teacher in part so I could adventure in the summer, but it's awfully hard to leave Oregon's glory. 

In the past, my summers were full of road trips, river swimming, backpacking, hiking, gardening and biking. Now they are shifting. Shannon's immovable character kept me from being quite as active the last few years. Now that Ollin is in our lives, I hope to find some good summer rituals and traditions to help him enjoy Oregon summers as much as I do. Last week my dad and I took him to Powell Butte and watched his eyes take in the lush, green tree canopies, the forest floor, the cool air and birdsong. The garden is also a great place for him to absorb nature. Soon we'll begin exploring the rivers, the ocean and beyond. 

What Will Be Forgotten and Remembered

It's amazing to me how fast the first few weeks of a new baby disappear, and the worries and issues which seemed so huge are eclipsed by new issues and quickly forgotten. What I've discovered is that most moms I talked to have forgotten how those first few weeks felt, or they misremembered them. My own mother forgot that at one time, she had worried about whether I (her baby) was getting enough milk, because it resolved soon and she moved on. Someone told me that those first few weeks were the very best, and that it only got harder after that. I would disagree and ask if she misremembered them, because, while the beginning was magic, it felt like we were fumbling in the dark until we got to know our baby. I feel that it is easier now, since we can read O's cries better, I'm not on an emotional seesaw, and we have some confidence about baby-soothing skills. Also, people say that the only reason women have more kids is that they forget the pain of birth--there is a biological purpose to forgetting. Below is an excerpt of a letter I wrote to a new mom when O was about three weeks, in order not to forget: 

• MILK:  My milk was slow to come in, and the books didn't talk much about that. They say "WHEN your milk comes in on day three, (or maybe four), but they don't talk about those whose don't or supplies that are low. I have been to a lactation consultant 5-6 times, and it was incredibly helpful.(I would, however suggest trying to see the same person or just a few. 5-6 different lactation consultants who have slightly different approaches can feel a bit disjointed.)  We are fine, Ollin started gaining again and reached his original birth weight closer to 3 weeks. I just went to a mom's group and found out that this is super common. Half the women I met had issues with milk supply.  
• VISITORS: Family is so tricky. I really wanted someone there when we came home from the hospital. Then I wanted them gone. Then I wanted help, etc. We found that the most useful thing was for someone to be there early in the morning to take the baby so papa and mama could get a few extra hours of sleep. People staying with us was hard, even in our big house, because I was very emotional and also because breastfeeding was something I wasn't wanting to share with everyone. When shannon's dad/step-mom were here I went upstairs to breastfeed, and that probably saved me because I got private time with Ollin every few hours. They were very helpful and gave us lots of space, but I still needed breaks. I'd say two days at a time would've been ideal to have people there, and then I wanted space. 
• Everything is temporary. When your baby's cries break your heart and you find yourself crying too, remember that you'll get used to it and it's temporary. Shannon and I felt a bit panicky at first because it wasn't just a baby cry, it was OUR BABY and we could barely stand it. 
• If your body feels pretty good at first, still be gentle with it. I had no pain down there for the first four or five days, but then I had pain after that. Apparently it's normal to be numb for a few days. Oh, and did I mention that it's normal to cry a lot and for no reason? It's true. 
• My midwife said to go home and be naked in bed with our baby for a week or so, and let people take care of us. It's so amazing to watch Shannon be a papa, in some ways I feel like our marriage just started. It's so great to trust him and be able to take a walk around the block or go to the store (I can't be away any longer because it hurts!) In fact, and apparently this is normal, Shannon can soothe him and get him to sleep better than me often because when I hold him, he just wants to nurse. 
• This week I went to a moms' group up the street, and I was the newest mom for sure, but they all said they wished they'd come earlier. I found it soooo helpful because the little things I'd been wanting to know were mostly answered by sitting with a bunch of moms doing mom things. Also, it was a good first step for me getting out and being in a supportive environment where I could breastfeed and change a diaper and have a crying baby and everyone else was doing the same. They connected me with other activities like dad's groups and mommy matinees!  
• It's all the little things that bewildered us, like what to dress him in for sleeping. Thats where people's advice is great.

GJ

Shannon's in NYC eating at Momofuku, 

and mom, or GJ for Grandma Jan, is helping me take care of O for a few days. 


We're having lovely adventures including but not limited to food cart exploration, neighborhood walks, IKEA, the garden, sushi, shopping, dressing and redressing the baby, cookie making, laundry, and visiting friends. Irony: driving to the garden in the rain to water the garden & realizing that if we'll get soaked watering, perhaps we don't actually need to water.
When I'm not anchored to the couch, I'll post some pics. 

Birth Story

Here's the story of O's birth. As we prepared for the birth with exercises, classes, thoughts fears and intentions, we hoped we would have a good story to share with our son each year on his birthday. We talked to people with traumatic experiences or just births that didn't go how they wanted, and it was a struggle for them to frame the story so their child could enjoy hearing it. We lucked out: things went differently than we expected, but they went well, and it's a good story! 


First, my pregnancy was a bit different than I expected. I've always been moderately thin (a little belly pooch), small-breasted, etc. In pregnancy, I got enormous, all in the belly. I got lots of the comments that pregnant women love: "are you having twins?" "Wow, you're huge!" My breasts fluctuated through lots of changes. I remember driving down the freeway and getting a pain in my breast so strong that I grabbed it. A truck driver saw me and honked nice and loud. Lovely.


Our plan was a natural waterbirth-hypnobirth. My mom, a hypnotherapist, helped me prepare for the hypnobirth with relaxation and visualization tracks on my ipod. I bought into some but not all of the hypnobirthing philosophy. Helping my body open up and relax with visualizations seemed quite logical, as did keeping the room calm and reducing distractions. Reframing the language around birth also made sense. But thinking that there would be "only pressure, no pain", or that there would be no need to push did not sound quite realistic. Maybe my realism was a self-fulfilling prophecy, I don't know. I took what I could from it, and it definitely helped me prepare for birth beforehand.


Being two weeks late, as far as the OHSU midwives would let me go, I was reluctantly induced. I had tried acupuncture twice (for $150 a pop) and twice my labor started, but then petered out. Much reassurance was given that the midwives would try mechanical induction methods first that Pitocin would be the last resort, and even then, it would be slow and monitored. We went in on a Wednesday morning, full of anticipation, still trying to encourage/cajole my body into starting on its own.


They began with a foley bulb, which is a tube put into your cervix with a water balloon that slowly inflates and expands the cervix. It only halfway worked. I got Misoprostil, the artificial prostoglandin which dilates the cervix, in two four hour sessions. A day and night of small contractions that I tried to imagine were getting bigger and closer together was frustrating. So was trying to sleep in a hospital bed. Finally, Thursday morning, the midwives said it was time for Pitocin. I was resigned to it. We asked if we could have breakfast and a shower first. I got my shower, but then my body kicked into gear on its own. I only got to have a few bites of huevos rancheros before I realized that it was finally happening. No huevos for me.


Shannon called our doula Venessa, and she arrived shortly. Quickly she and Shannon became a seamless team. I would have a contraction and I would yell, and she would encourage me to vocalize while Shannon rubbed my back or held onto me. I suppose I was having back labor, because as the intensity increased, I demanded the hip-squeeze, and eventually the butt squeeze. I required that they use all their strength to squeeze my hips together. They kept me super hydrated with water, Recharge (we brought a whole case to the hospital), protein drinks and fruit. They took turns with breaks so smoothly that I barely noticed when one was gone. They helped me in and out of the bathtub, down the hall, up and down but hardly ever on the bed.  


The midwives/nurses filled up the water birth tub for me, which is quite an ordeal. The tub takes up most of the room, and they use a hose from the shower in the bathroom. Shannon and I went in. It felt soooo good in between contractions, but the water actually seemed to intensify the contractions for me. We got in and out a few times and I started to fear the contractions. The midwife wanted me to increase the intensity and shorten the distance between my contractions, so we just kept moving and hardly ever sat down or laid down on the bed. She also heard me vocalizing and suggested that I mellow it out, leave room for my contractions to intensify even more and have a voice left. I tried to take this in stride, but was slightly discouraged when she kept telling me I needed to get them stronger and closer together. Ultimately, my body dilated fully with contractions 4-6 minutes apart! It was sort of surprising to everyone involved. Of course I had nothing to compare to, nor did I have any sense of time. 


I had planned to avoid an epidural if at all possible (that goes for a C-section too, of course). Halfway into labor, I thought "I can see why people get epidurals, and I see nothing wrong with it at all." The only thing that kept me from asking for one was that I HATE needles and the idea of something being stabbed into my spine was worse than the idea of the pain. What kept me going during labor was my team, for sure. I don't think I actually have a high tolerance for pain; I just relied on Shannon and Venessa to be my strength. Really, I physically leaned on them, sometimes putting all my 172 pounds around Shannon's neck. Also, all the preparation--the classes, the reading, the yoga and visualization--served to keep me from going to a place of fear, and it allowed me to stay in the moment. That and the pain of one contraction was all-consuming to the point that I didn't have  chance to think too much. 


When my water finally broke, I didn't notice that Venessa slipped out of the room for a moment. I was absorbed by the fact that water was gushing out of me, all over my legs, my slippers, the floor; everywhere I went I leaked. When she came back she had a nurse with her. After a while she calmly told me that there was meconium in the amniotic fluid, and that the midwife would come in to check it out, but it was probably fine. The midwife came and was just as calm and reassuring. She said that it happened in 30% of births, and it could mean nothing at all. It did change our plan. I could continue to labor in the water tub, but I couldn't give birth there. And there would need to be a pediatric team in the room when I crowned, in case there was an issue with the baby. The concern is if the baby had gotten meconium in his lungs. I said fine, get rid of the tub. They checked me and I only had a lip of cervix left, SOOO CLOSE!

 A bit more contracting and gushing, and then there was a midwife/nurse shift change. The new midwife checked me and I was there! I started pushing, in the bed, on my side, using Shannon as an anchor, in a headlock. In retrospect, we really could've used the bar over the bed, but never thought to ask. I pushed for a good two hours, being directed to focus the energy down and out. I thought, well, there's no way out now but to push. At least if I keep pushing, I won't have to be pregnant any more. Oh, and I get a baby! When people were saying "here he comes", "there's his head", I thought they were just being nice. It seemed like he couldn't really be coming out already, but boom, there he was, placed on my chest, all bright and heavy and breathing! He was vigorous, though had some mucus to be cleared out. I never even noticed the pediatric team, waiting in the wings. Someone could come up to me on the street and say "hey, I was at your birth. I watched a baby come out your yoni" and I wouldn't know who they were. 

I think I remember saying "is this real?" We talked to him, he suckled slightly, we caressed him and gazed in amazement, and then I noticed that other things were going on down there. My body wasn't contracting to get the placenta out. After all that natural labor, I ended up getting more misoprostil, Pitocin stabbed into my leg, and eventually a narcotic anesthetic in an IV, because the midwife had to manually remove my placenta. It didn't matter though, because he was out of me, and I had snuggled him, and during that operation, he was snuggling with Shannon, skin to skin, bonding. I felt elated, triumphant, and pretty tired. He nursed successfully, our family came in and gazed in amazement, he weighed in at a whopping 9 pounds 3 ounces, and the journey had begun. 

Mama Blogs to Inspire

Busy day. Here are some awesome blogs to check out. I've highlighted my favorite posts.


The Rookie Moms Blog has this brilliant idea that I wish I'd thought of: 25 things to do on maternity leave. It's awesome because the writing is great and the ideas are exactly what a new mom needs. Here's one: http://www.rookiemoms.com/write-a-did-do-list/ .
She also has tips for how to fit a shower into your day---[HOLD THE PRESSES! My baby just smiled in his sleep]--- Okay, anyway, she has this great list that includes things that will help you build confidence going out and about as a new mom, like scouting out the baby-friendly bathrooms and nursing spots, and going to a Mommy Matinee, which I have already done! She also has the brilliant idea for couples to pretend one night that they are teenagers babysitting rather than parents in their own home. 


The other one that I just have to read daily is Mommy Shorts. She is a brilliant writer with the right sense of humor for me. Here are a few of my favorites:
 http://www.mommyshorts.com/parenting-math and for father's day, this one.


I also adore the writing (and the people) in this one: 
http://therhodeslog.blogspot.com

How to Tell the Days Apart

How was yesterday different than  the day before?  The days really sort of run together when all you seem to do is breastfeed and empty the dishwasher. I try to fit in some outing almost every day. So yesterday, being a Tuesday I think, I had organized a playgroup walk on Mt. Tabor. Originally I had scheduled it for Monday,  it was pouring so I cancelled it. No one showed up Tuesday either. Again the weather was drab and gray (it's currently gorgeous and sunny, no plans made). So I walked by myself (with O) on a forested path to the top of Mt. Tabor. O was asleep in the baby bjorn. Halfway up, in the deepest part of the forest (to set the mood) I heard a clunk and saw something smack against a tree trunk. When the thrower saw me, he picked up said object and slipped it back into a holster on his belt. Great. The man with him was wearing shorts over his track pants and smoking a pipe. I wouldn't say I was afraid; the two white-haired gentlemen seemed harmless, but I did briefly consider my lone adventures differently with a bundle of baby in front of me. You never know when you might run across a knife-thrower. 

I usually divide up the days by visiting the garden if it hasn't rained, going to the store, walking, and having an occasional visitor. Last week I even made it to someone else's house! And Fridays I have a facilitated moms' group, which has been one of the best thing so far for getting information and having confidence about each stage that O goes through. 

Other things that made yesterday different:

• I cooked something from The Chew. Well, sort of. It was chicken Amandine, but I didn't have almonds, so I just used garlic (because garlic is always a good substitute for almonds). And then I realized I had a red cabbage, so I decided I should make coleslaw. I looked at a Chew recipe and then made it totally different. It was actually great!
• I had a doctor appt and left O (with his papa) for a whole hour and 20 minutes; the longest I've been away from him. And everything was fine!