When the nanny insults you on her first day

On Monday when the nanny started, she seemed a bit warmer than she was when she did the trial. During the trial day, she seemed a bit formal and stiff, almost on edge probably given she knew I was evaluating her and watching closely. She hadn’t really given us any information in regards to what snacks she’d like to have in the apartment, so I told her we had lots of mangoes, and I heard (from one of her reference families) that she enjoyed mangoes. She smiled and said she noticed all the mangoes in our fruit bowls and was wondering where we got them from.

“But I have to tell you something…. you don’t know how to pick mangoes,” she said, with a somewhat mischievous, cheeky smile on her face.

Did she seriously just insult me and accuse me of not understanding mangoes… ON HER FIRST DAY? What does she know about how I choose the mangoes? She didn’t even look at them up close!

She explained that she grew up in Jamaica, so she always had many varieties of mangoes growing up, especially fresh ones picked super ripe off the tree. She said here, it didn’t matter if they were red, green, or yellow, that she knew how to choose the ones that were picked ripe vs. not ripe, and the ones picked ripe were always the best.

Okay, that’s a bit ridiculous and presumptuous for a couple reasons: 1) mangoes don’t grow in the U.S. other than in Florida, and I don’t really care for Florida mangoes. 2) the majority of mangoes in the U.S. are imported from Mexico, and when you are crossing borders with fruit, especially fruit as delicate as mangoes, it’s pretty much impossible to pick the fruit ripe and transport them long distances without destroying them or having them go rotten. As a result of this, mangoes need to be picked green and unripe and then ripen off the tree. That’s sad, but it’s just a fact of living here and eating them. 3) There is just no way in hell she is getting mangoes picked ripe off any tree anywhere in the northeast of the United States no matter what she tries to tell me. She may have grown up in the tropics with mango trees galore, but I understand food transport and what is real vs. fantasy.

“You do realize that the majority of mangoes in the U.S. come from Mexico, right?” I asked her pointedly. I told her that the yellow Ataulfo mangoes were generally the safest bet here. She disagreed, but hey, we’re all entitled to our own opinions.

We’re still getting into a groove. She tends to get a little defensive when I give suggestions or try to correct her, but well, this was always going to happen regardless of how good she was because I’m working from home and will see her interacting with my child, and well, I AM this child’s mother, so I know how she behaves generally and what she likes and doesn’t like. Overall, she seems a bit timid and like she is still coming out of a shell, but her opinionated side comes out at odd times like it did with the mango scenario. Hopefully she’s just quirky and things will smooth themselves out over time… Because I really do not want to have to search for another nanny.

Languishing

This morning, the baby was much better when the nanny arrived. She seemed more like her normal self. She is starting to smile with the nanny and didn’t have any noticeable meltdown. I’m trying to give the nanny suggestions on things like how to hold or handle her to prevent the baby from crying or yelling out, which I’m sure our nanny is really thrilled about given what I’ve heard about nannies being annoyed when one of their parent bosses works from home and observing/critiquing everything. But hey, she signed up for this job knowing I’d be working from home full time, so she knew what she was getting herself into.

It’s my second week back “at work,” working from the second bedroom of our apartment, just a wall separating me from my baby. While I feel fine being in front of a computer and having meetings now, and my transition back to work has been a gradual one, I feel like I am languishing. I feel like I have zero motivation and work is just empty. It’s only the second week back at work, and I feel “meh” about it in the biggest “meh” way you can imagine. A few colleagues, including my boss, asked me if I was excited to be back, and I just said I felt okay. I wasn’t going to lie and feign enthusiasm about something that has been a hard mental transition for me. I’m so over the days of pretending to be someone at work who I am not. I never realized the transition mentally would be so hard, even if I had thought about it theoretically before. I just feel completely joyless doing my job. It’s not like I’m not doing the work I have or not responding to emails or Slack messages. I just feel a bit like a robot, doing these things because I have to rather than because I actually want to. I guess that’s the thing about “work:” not all of us are lucky enough to have a job where it doesn’t actually feel like work.

My colleague insisted I’d feel more “normal” about this in about two to three weeks, that I just had to give myself the time, patience, and grace to get back into the swing of things. I suppose that’s a fair suggestion. But I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t waiting for every work day to be over. I honestly rather go back to pumping milk around the clock than working at this point.

Nanny’s first day and endless tears

Our nanny arrived ten minutes early this morning for her first day of work. It was also our baby’s first day being in a new routine and not taking a nap immediately after her first morning feed. I wasn’t sure how the day would go, but I had a feeling it would include some fussiness and crying. Our baby has occasionally gotten upset when being held with strangers as of late, and unfortunately, this morning was no different. In fact, it was even worse: as soon as our nanny picked her up, she immediately started crying and screaming nonstop. Before she had arrived, our baby was completely fine, smiling and babbling and happy. I was wondering how long it would last. Well, other than her nap time, all morning she screamed and cried. She even screamed and cried through her 10am feed and didn’t even finish the bottle. That’s fresh breast milk I pump that morning; she ALWAYS finishes that bottle. I was so devastated and struggled to concentrate on work in the morning. Being in the next room attempting to work while your baby daughter is screaming bloody murder in the next room is…. pretty futile and miserable. I lasted maybe 30-40 minutes before I caved in and got out of the second bedroom to hold and comfort her. I eventually had to go outside to get some air, and our handyman friend ran into me and comforted me while I cried outside, feeling a lot of mom guilt and wondering when the hell this was going to get easier. I normally don’t get too phased hearing the sound of my baby cry, but hearing the wailing and screaming nonstop was driving me crazy and making me wonder if having a nanny was a good idea after all. I mean, don’t I want to be with my baby during the day? It doesn’t seem to matter what choice you make; there’s guilt all around when you’re a mom.

I told a colleague this during a call this morning. I was trying to focus on what he was sharing with me, but I also told him that in the next room was my screaming 21-week old baby, struggling to get along with the new nanny. He sent me an email later telling me that he really felt for me: when his now toddler went to daycare the very first day, he said it was likely the hardest day of his and his wife’s lives. For the first two weeks, it was a huge struggle and pain to get ready in the morning, get out the door, and do drop off. Pickups were miserable because his son was angry at them both for leaving him with strangers. But after two weeks, the kid adjusted, and now he loves his teachers and friends and looks forward to daycare. He told me to take it a day at a time, and that we’d all get used to this new normal, including my daughter.

These are the emotional ups and downs of having a child in real time, and it really, really sucks.

First Mother’s Day

Everywhere on social media and in mom’s groups, people post in the days leading up to Mother’s Day what plans they have, how their spouses plan to pamper them, what cute things their kids will be making/doing for them. While it’s kind of cute that the day is hyped up, I always thought that it was overhyped. Why should there just be one day a year when mom is not expected to do all the house chores and take care of the kids? It always infuriated me and made me think that was like the one day of the year when moms didn’t have to do all the domestic and emotional work in a household.

On my first Mother’s Day, I still cleaned the toilet. I made my own breakfast and lunch. I spent five hours connected to a breast pump. These are all things I just do. The highlight of the day was going to the dentist with the baby in tow. That was fun for the dentists since they were excited to have a baby in their office, but it was just practical for us.

What I thought more about today was how I felt this time last year when I was pregnant, but then I wasn’t 100 percent certain that my pregnancy would end with a baby. I had a lot of doubt and fear, and I wasn’t sure when I was going to get comfortable with being pregnant. Now on Mother’s Day, I really feel for those women — the ones who have been trying to conceive but haven’t been successful; the women who had gotten pregnant but suffered losses, are pregnant again but fearful it will all unravel; the ones going through fertility treatments ranging from IUI to IVF who still remain hopeful. Mother’s Day can be a really painful day for a lot of people.

I wish we didn’t even have a need for days like Mother’s Day or Father’s Day, though, that we could actually appreciate and be more grateful for the hard work that parents do more regularly than just once a year. I don’t think flowers for mom or the stereotypical watch or toolset or tie for dad on those days is really enough to say “thanks for all the sacrifices you’ve made as my mom/mother of my child.” We live in a world that is generally lacking of daily thanks and gratitude. We might be happier with a little bit more of that in our lives.

infant Tylenol in the US has high fructose corn syrup

One of the reasons that formula always made me angry, particularly in this country, is that many formulas are made with high fructose corn syrup. There is absolutely no reason that high fructose corn syrup, or any type of sweetener for that matter, should be added to infant formula. That serves as a cheap, empty caloric way to fatten up a baby, and that is just garbage to me. And what grossed me out further is that in a follow up appointment with the nurse practitioner/lactation consultant at the doctor’s office, When we learned that the baby was not gaining weight, she actually recommended a formula that had high fructose corn syrup in it… This specific formula was supposed to be easy on tummies and provide “total comfort.” 

We used it for a short time, given it was a sample, and when we finished it, I refused to continue buying it out of principle. I was very unhappy that we fed our baby infant formula that had high fructose corn syrup in it at all. And I told myself that there was no way moving forward that I would let her have any other formula that had this crap in it.

 Well, I was true to my word. We have not given her formula that had high fructose corn syrup in it since. But what we discovered today, to my complete disgust once again, is that the infant Tylenol that we have been giving her when she has had teething pains has high fructose corn syrup in it! Chris found out by accident. He wasn’t even looking at the ingredients. Then he realized that the sweetener in the Tylenol was high fructose corn syrup. This is infant Tylenol, the branded pain killer! What the hell is wrong with this stupid ass country?? I cannot even trust that basic over the counter medication that I feed my baby, who is not even one year old, will not have high fructose corn syrup in it! This country has 5 million problems, and one of them is that we just want to feed our children with empty calories just because of some bullshit corn subsidies that make it cheaper to sweeten things. And we wonder to ourselves… How do young people get fat and obese so soon and so early? Well, it starts with things like this. The fact that I didn’t even bother to check the ingredients list on the infant Tylenol before buying it… I didn’t even think I had to. I always check ingredients list on food and packaged items, and especially all of the infant formula that we have considered and/or purchased. But now I feel bad that I didn’t even check the medication ingredient list for my baby. In a perfect world, or rather in a country that actually cares about its young people, particularly its babies, I would not even have to check the medication ingredients list to ensure that this crap was not in it. But apparently, in this country, I do. And that is just so sad.

Full milk supply

A full milk supply for a breastfeeding mother is considered somewhere between 600 to 1200 mL per 24-hour period. As you would probably think looking at this, that is a huge range. On average though, based on what I have read, it actually should be at least 720 mL per day once your baby is between 1 to 6 months of age. Over 1000 mL per day is considered a bit of an over supply. But alas, every baby is different and has a different appetite level. I was taking a look at my last seven day average of breastmilk output, and I realized that I was averaging 744 ml, or almost 25 ounces. There were days when I made over 25 ounces, and then there were the days when I made just over 24 ounces. And even though I still am not making 100% of what my baby needs, I still couldn’t really believe it when I looked at these numbers. 

Once upon a time, within my baby’s first month of life, I struggled to produce even 1-1.5 ounces per pump session. I had a late start to pumping. I had no idea then that a weak suck was preventing my baby from effectively removing milk from my breasts. She was on my boobs all the time that first week, yet I had no clue that she wasn’t eating enough. I only pumped a handful of times in her first week of life… Because I was naïve and ignorant. I thought to myself, I don’t need to pump that much. She’s on my breasts on all the time. She had a good latch according to what the lactation consultant at the hospital said. And the breast-feeding course I took plus all the breastfeeding guides I read said that the latch was the most important thing, so there was no way anything could be wrong, right? So I didn’t really pump much until after she was one week old – that’s when I started pumping 3 times a day… which was inadequate if you read any exclusive pumping guide. I didn’t pump six times a day until she was two weeks old. And I didn’t pump seven times a day until she was over four weeks old. I didn’t use the right flange size until she was five weeks old. I didn’t even start pumping for 30 minutes until she was four weeks old. I didn’t learn my pump settings and how to effectively get the most milk out until about six weeks. I had a lot to learn and teach myself, through my own experience, trial and error, the Facebook pumping mama‘s group, and the exclusive pumping website. 

When I was about four weeks postpartum, I seriously considered giving up altogether. I felt like I was a failure. I wasn’t producing enough for my baby to eat, and I felt like I was spending all my time with a stupid breast pump instead of bonding with my baby. I was so angry at the world, at myself, at the crappy lactation consultants I met with in person at the hospital and at the pediatrician’s office. The pediatrician of all people told us our baby had a weak suck that would be inefficient at removing milk from my breasts, not either of the LCs we saw in person. It was such a simple test: to just stick your finger in her mouth when she was hungry to see how hard she sucked, and neither LC did this! I was angry that I missed the window of the first two weeks of my baby’s life to really establish a good milk supply by consistently removing milk from my breasts. If you read any breast-feeding support group, every single person emphasizes that the first two weeks are critical in terms of building your milk supply. You either need to be nursing effectively every 2 to 3 hours or pumping every 2 to 3 hours for the first two weeks, otherwise it will be just that much more challenging to get a full milk supply. Well, I didn’t know that then. I was so bitter and beyond upset. But I was determined not to give up. I had to give all of my new learnings a chance, plus the $60 package of flanges that I just purchased. And, I read that most struggling breast-feeding moms, whether they are nursing or pumping, give up at the six week mark. And there was no way in hell that I was giving up that soon. I ate oatmeal every single day from the morning after we returned from the hospital. I still eat it every single day. I drink an insane amount of water every single day to stay hydrated. I power pumped for over two months every single day to get my supply up (“that is such shit,” said an Australian friend who had exclusively breastfed/nursed both of her babies and only ever had to pump one breast occasionally). Power pumping is likely the only thing that really worked, which makes sense. Because again, milk removal builds milk supply. Nothing else.

Now, when I wake up and do my first morning pump, I produce 8 to 9 ounces; my Spectra bottles are nearly full, which I always dreamt of seeing but never thought was possible at 4 weeks postpartum. And every subsequent pump, I usually get between 3 to 5 ounces. On average now, I am feeding my baby over 80% of her total daily needs. That means that the majority of her diet is breastmilk. I would love to tell that stupid lactation consultant at the doctor’s office that I don’t have low supply like she said. Look at my output now, bitches! I needed to have more milk removed from my breast back then. Because the key to milk supply is milk removal, not the useless supplements that she told me to take. And no, I am not the problem. I never was. My problem was that I didn’t have the right support. I am 21 weeks postpartum now and somehow, against everything that I read, my supply is still slowly creeping up. Most people told me that my supply would regulate at around 12 weeks, which is considered general knowledge. Some people have supplies that continue to increase, but that is rarer than the supplies that decrease or stay the same at 12 weeks and beyond. And also against what I thought would happen, after dropping pump sessions, my supply actually continued to creep up. When I dropped my seventh pump, I was producing about 20 ounces per day, But I told myself I had to start reducing pumps in order to get my sanity back. Twenty ounces per day with seven pumps became 22 ounces per day with six pumps, which then became 24 to 25 ounces with five pumps a day and no overnight pumping. 

I am so happy that I kept going and did not give up. Even though I am still not giving my baby 100% of her needs, I am grateful to my body for what it has been able to do, to go against the odds with the late start for exclusive pumping and continue to produce more and more milk to feed my baby. And when I look at the growth over time in terms of my output since January, I feel really proud. The numbers graphed out look amazing. If you told me in January that by May, I would be producing 25 ounces of breast milk per day, I would have told you that you were way too optimistic. But here we are. I am still hopeful that I will produce beyond 25 ounces regularly, but we shall wait and see.

Pumping has been hard as hell. This is not how I imagined primarily feeding my baby, but here we are. Nursing did not work out, but this is the next best thing for her and for me. Pumping is likely one of the most difficult things that I’ve ever had to do, but even in the hardest and most emotional times, I have never regretted doing this for my baby. In some way, I look at pumping as the way that I have mourned not being able to exclusively nurse her.  But I also look at it as yet another sacrifice that a mother makes for her child. This time will soon come to an end, and as it starts winding down, I can already see myself getting sad and emotional to think that my breast-feeding journey with her will be ending. But that just means the start of the next era of our life together.

Happy baby pose

Last week when a friend came over to visit, she pointed out how our baby was doing the happy baby yoga pose. In this pose, a person is on her back with her legs bent in, and her hands are outstretched to reach her ankles or feet.

“The baby is doing the happy baby pose!” my friend squealed with delight. “It’s real! Babies DO do the happy baby pose! It’s sooo cute!”

Our baby is discovering all parts of her body. She’s stretching her arms and legs out everywhere. She’s navigating how to use her different fingers. She turns and stretches her head and neck to see one of us. Her development is the sweetest thing to observe and witness. I hope she continues to always be a happy baby and tiny human.

First Mother’s Day gift

Yesterday, we received an unexpected package in the mail. It was from Chris’s friend, who sent me an early Mother’s Day gift. It was a package of assorted specialty teas, and her message wished me a happy first Mother’s Day. It was very sweet and thoughtful, completely out of nowhere, especially since I wasn’t actively thinking about Mother’s Day at all.

I generally think Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are bullshit holidays. They are “holidays” on the calendar to remind everyone to love and respect and appreciate their parents when most of the other days of the year, they genuinely do not care and take these people in their lives for granted. You know what would be even better than having a Mother’s Day holiday (which is on a Sunday, and as if anyone would actually get the day off if they worked on a Sunday): actually having nationally mandated family leave, universal healthcare, and for everyone, especially our government, to stay the hell out of the business of any woman who has to make the gut-wrenching decision to have an abortion.

Postpartum anxiety

It was my second day back at work, virtually, and I set up a couple of catch ups with some colleagues that I am friendly with. One of them has shared that one of my other colleague friends was out on leave… Indefinitely. This colleague had given birth in June last year, and I had spoken with her quite a bit when she came back to work. She had been doing really well then and had a very easy breast-feeding journey… Which she acknowledged she was so lucky to have. She had been in the process of weaning off of nursing and pumping, and it appears that the hormonal changes of weaning really affected her negatively. She had gone through some emotional downward spirals and needed to take time off from work. My colleague told me that it was doubtful that she was going to return. I was completely shocked.

She had had a really smooth pregnancy, a precipitous labor, meaning that end to end, her labor was less than seven hours, and her breast-feeding journey was immediately successful. So this news of her experiencing postpartum anxiety was completely unexpected. I felt really terrible when I heard this and immediately reached out to her to see how she was doing. 

Unfortunately, I know based on what I have read that postpartum depression and anxiety are not just confined to the first few months after birth. Postpartum depression can actually affect mothers nine months, 12 months, even 18 months later due to hormonal changes, not to mention shifts in lifestyle, meaning a return to work, bringing a child to daycare, a mother’s changing body and weight, etc. It’s hard to know when and how it could potentially affect you. So far, my postpartum journey has been relatively smooth, and the only real negatives, other than the rocky breast-feeding journey (that I didn’t realize was rocky until I found out my baby wasn’t gaining weight…) and my slightly unhealthy obsession with pumping and increasing my milk supply, was the effect on my elbows and wrists, as well as my new mommy thumb condition. I have been decreasing the motions that cause the pain as much as possible as well as doing exercises to help relieve the pain. I definitely don’t feel as terrible as I did in February. And although I am back to work, as my work friend’s situation has shown me, my postpartum journey is still not over. Hopefully, things will continue looking up for me.

Back to work

It was my first day back at work today, which really meant I had to be at my computer in the second bedroom most of the day, and it was pretty quiet. I only had one meeting with my manager, and the rest of the day was spent doing compliance trainings, reading through new product material, and more trainings around product enablement and new roles and responsibilities. I had a few Slack messages with some colleagues, and that was really it. Given I didn’t have to go back into an actual workplace, it wasn’t as jarring as I thought it would be.

My manager told me that we’re likely having an offsite, either in San Francisco or Denver in August. It would be for about two days. So I immediately started thinking about breast milk transport logistics through the airport, on the plane, and at a hotel. And I immediately started feeling stress about it, especially given the horror stories I’ve read about from pumping moms going through TSA and dealing with clueless and ignorant flight attendants about baggage allowances. These are the things that I never thought much about when becoming a mom that I now have to think about just to feed my baby. What adventures await.

In a world pre-baby, the thought of traveling to San Francisco or Denver for work would have excited me and made me happy. More travel! More miles! More points! Status! Socializing! Now in a new life with a baby, I just feel wary and unsure.