A post where I won't talk about my boobs OR Gwen's bum

Yesterday, something wonderful happened.

It started on Friday, when Chris said, "I'd like to take Gwen to Woodgrove Mall on Saturday." I chose to interpret this exactly as he'd said it - that he (singular) wanted to take Gwen to the mall. (This may seem strange, until you consider that he used to work at the mall, and wants to show her off to his former co-workers.)

I immediately agreed, in such a way that made my interpretation obvious: "That sounds great! You do that, and I'll have a shower and a bit of time to myself."

(ASIDE: I've never been one of those shower-every-day type of people, but since having Gwen, the frequency of my showers has fallen to once a week. It's not the showers that are impossible so much as the 60-minute ritual of doing my hair that follows - letting it dry for 40 minutes, then styling for 20. If this ritual is not followed, or if it is compromised in any way, my hair is a disaster until the next time I get to shower. Since that's such a big commitment, I only manage to do it once a week. And suddenly that time is the freakin' highlight of my entire week.)

So, at about 11am Chris and Gwen headed out to the mall with a diaper bag and a bottle of pumped milk. I had a shower, surfed the web for 40 minutes, did my hair, chatted online with my best friend, tidied up around the house, had a long leisurely lunch with a novel, and so on. Shortly after 1:30pm, right around the time I was really starting to wonder where they were, they returned.

"So, how was it?" I asked, all well-fed and showered and relaxed and happy.
"Awful," Chris grunted through clenched teeth. "I am covered in pee and milk."

Gwen had cried and screamed. The bottle had leaked when he tried to feed her, and on top of that, she hadn't been all that interested in eating it. She had had all kinds of diaper catastrophes, ruining both her clothes and his. And had he mentioned that she cried and screamed?

I took Gwen over to the couch and fed her, waiting for the appreciative "I don't know how you do this every day, you are truly amazing!".

(Needless to say, I'm still waiting...)

I suppose it would be too much to hope that he means to make this a regular Saturday morning ritual?

Thrush MUCH improved

I credit the vinegar rinse. After just doing it *once* I could watch her skin react before my eyes (and it didn't seem to cause her any discomfort). This morning, even after wearing a diaper all night, her bum is much less angry.

If we just stay on top of it for the next two days, and keep up with what we've been doing, we should be out of the woods.

To say I am much relieved is a huge understatement.

Gwen's bum hates her

Why is it always the day *after* you see the midwife that things take a turn for the worse? Gwen's thrush on her bottom (it never appeared in her mouth, thank goodness, and we are still treating it 3 times a day to prevent it doing so) has gotten worse, with angry red sores that are obviously causing her great discomfort. Our day started at 2:something am when she would not tolerate being alone in her cradle anymore and would only settle (slightly) if she were in the big bed with us. We nursed on and off all morning until 7am when we unswaddled her for a morning diaper change and found a very angry bum staring at us.

All day we have been watching her closely and cleaning her up after a poo or pee so we don't have to put her back in a diaper. She is obviously miserable; seems to sense when a poo is coming and will try not to let it happen because she knows it's going to irritate her poor skin. But of course it happens anyway and then she cries and screams and is nearly inconsolable. I finally got her to nap at about 1:30 this afternoon for an hour or so.

I finally understand what parents mean when they say they wish they could just take the pain away. If I could take this pain away from her I would. It is obviously horrible and of course she doesn't understand why it is happening which just makes it worse. I got so frustrated that I called Lillian to ask if there was anything else we could do to improve the rash, as it's been 10 days of treatment with the antifungal cream and it's not gone yet. She said keeping it clean and dry as much as possible (which we were already doing) was all that could be done. I hate watching my baby suffer through this! How long is this damn rash going to hang on? I Googled just that and found greatly varying answers, everything from a few days to a few months. GAH we cannot survive months!!

Okay, deep breath...

Just found these two sites which offer a whole variety of more things we can do to help rid ourselves of the thrush. So we'll give them a try and hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.

As a side note, getting cut off in traffic is even more annoying when you have a screaming baby in the car

Babycenter.com's weekly email tells me:
"Now that your baby's awake for longer periods during the day, you can use these times to support his sensory development. Try singing your favorite lullabies or playing music.

"You don't have limit yourself to children's songs. Fill the house with the sounds of music — from the Black Eyed Peas to Mozart — and watch as your baby expresses his pleasure through coos, lip smacks, and jerking arm and leg movements.

"Inevitably, you'll notice that your baby responds to and favors some selections more than others as he begins to develop preferences."

I am happy to report that Gwen's musical tastes are developing nicely. Today we were out in the car doing errands and Gwen was fussy (she is, sadly, not one of those babies who just drifts off to sleep anytime she's in a moving vehicle). Fuss, fuss, cry, cry. Then my big giant CD of random music started playing "Your Own Personal Jesus" by Depeche Mode. She stopped crying. "Hmm," I thought. "It appears the girl has good taste."

The next few tracks, all Depeche Mode songs, were uninterrupted by Gwen's fussing/crying/screaming. But it could just be a coincidence. Then the Depeche Mode selections ended and a Feist song came on. I don't know how she did this, but before the song even got past the instrumental intro, she started fussing again. I quickly skipped back a few tracks to "Policy of Truth" and she was immediately quiet.

I couldn't be more delighted!

This post is worth over 6,000 words

Week 1




Week 2




Week 3




Week 4




Week 5




Week 6


Six weeks old today. My, how time flies!