this woman’s work

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I was reading another adoption blog where the author was talking about the 20/20 show, (which I didn’t watch) and he said that the “winning” couple seemed like “glorified babysitters” because of the level of openness in their adoption relationship. (I’m not linking to this person’s blog because I don’t want to invite people to criticize his feelings on this. I did post and share a bit about my own open adoption experience but everyone needs to find their own comfort level when it comes to any type of adoption and discover their own path to their child. I’m talking about it here because it’s interesting — not to lambast him or his opinions.)

Again, I didn’t watch the show so I only have this gentleman’s post to go by but he said, in part, that the extended birth family had some access to the baby and he also mentioned that in the photo op at the end, the birth mother held the baby while the adoptive parents stood smiling behind her. And that the birth mom commented on the child’s resemblance to her.

Here’s my take on this. And note that I do not know this blogger and I don’t know his heart so anything I say is purely speculation and so don’t read it as an accurate representation of any singular person’s experience.
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When Madison got fussy yesterday afternoon, I carried her out to the backyard and we stood under the honeysuckle so she could watch the sun coming through the green. She calmed and looked around then looked up at me.

“Grb,” she said.
“Grb,” I agreed.
Her eyes got wide and one corner of her mouth turned up.
“Grb,” she said again.
“Grb,” I reaffirmed.
She rewarded me with a big, open mouthed smile, both dimples on display.
“Grb!” she said with finality. This time when I answered, she slid her eyes to the side and began to cry again. But it was a different kind of cry. She knows I’m on her side.

We paced around the backyard and Noah came out to join us. I told her about the pine trees where Noah likes to hide (watch out for the poison ivy!) then took her to the mint leaves by the birdhouse, where the swallows are nesting. I pointed out the raspberry bushes and the mulberry tree. I walked her to our neighbor’s wilting tulips and showed her where the daylilies will come out. Then we headed to the raised garden, to the strawberries and the future mini vegetable garden. She fell asleep on our sixth or seventh tour.

It was gratifying.

I wanted it to be E. H. Young but I can’t find any pictures of her. I’m mentioning her here so you can think about reading her, especially her prize-winning novel Miss Mole.

Instead I’m featuring Celia Fremlin who wrote a mystery about a new mother. In The Hours Before Dawn, Louise Henderson is the exhausted mother to a crying, sleepless baby and two little girls. I read it for the first time when Noah was a toddler and the description of sleeplessness absolutely resonated with me. I also thought her take on 1960s domesticity was pretty funny. In short, it’s a great housewife story and a fun mystery.

I couldn’t find an interview quote so I used a bit from the book instead.

I appreciate everyone’s sympathies on life with a fussy baby! I’m actually feeling much better than I was, say, three days ago when I felt like I’d hit my limit. Now I feel like I’m in my groove again.

A few nights ago, Madison was crying and crying and crying and nothing was working. I started crying, too. Brett had already taken his shift and I didn’t want to wake him again since he had to get up so early. I thought, “Well, that’s it. I’m at the end of my rope. I’ve got no more to give.” So I prayed about it. I don’t write much about prayer in this journal because it’s a pretty private thing but anyway, I prayed about it. I said, “I can’t do anymore. Send down some reenforcements. Send down a change of heart.”

I didn’t pray that Madison would stop; I prayed that I would find a way to be more patient and accepting. And it worked. It always works. Athiests among you can say it’s psychological, believers can say that God answered my prayers. Frankly, I don’t give a damn why it works but I’m glad it does.

Anyway, what I’ve found in the seven years of parenting Noah and now I’m finding again in parenting Madison is that generally the thing that needs to change when we’re having trouble is me. It’s always my attitude getting in the way of moving forward as a family. With Madison, letting go of my need to soothe her freed me just to be with her when she’s in tears. And I must be radiating more calm because she’s crying less or maybe I just think she’s crying less.

Letting go of my own unhappiness and frustration lets me come to my kids with more compassion. I realized that part of me was having trouble with her crying because I’m still struggling to feel confident as her mother. See, I came to this experience believing that it would be just like parenting Noah and it’s not. Because she’s adopted, because she’s our second baby, because we’re not nursing. By constantly comparing her to him, I was doing her a grave disservice. My experience in becoming her mother is not lacking or less than — it’s just different and for me, it’s been harder.

In my prayers I reminded God that I believe that this adoption was meant to be and was absolutely right. So, I said, could you please help me find the rightness in her tears? And what I found in my heart is that her crying is her reaching out to me and asking me to be with her. It’s my chance to step up and be her mommy. Not to fix it, but to love her through it. Like when Noah was a toddler and would have fits and I would just hold him as he raged. Now I need to hold her as she rages.

I do think that Madison is going to be such a wonderful person and I think her big personality is coming through. Her crying is strong and opinionated. I love that in her.

I have always loved in Noah that which challenges me the most and I know that it will be the same way with Madison. I like children with spirit. Aren’t I lucky that God has seen fit to send me two?

Anyway, that’s what works for me. The more I fought her tears and tried to make them stop, the more frustrated and unhappy I got. Letting go makes things easier. The gadgets — the swaddle blanket, the swing — help me catch my breath but I’m not looking for cures. She needs to cry and I need to be there with her while she does. We’ll get through it. At least I don’t feel crazy any more.

Madison kicks out of her swaddling blankets. She likes to be smooshed up tight in the sling and in the evenings, Brett wraps her like a little burrito to get her to soothe down for the night. But she’s a strong baby grrl and unhappily sheds her blankets pretty damn quick. Yesterday I was sorting through the newborn baby stuff ‘cuz she’s already grown out of most of her 0 to 3 months clothes and I found something at the bottom of one of my boxes. I had an assignment last fall to write about baby sleeping bags and one of the companies sent their SwaddleMe blanket along with their baby bag. Aha! I thought, I’m gonna give it a whirl.

It was fab. The SwaddleMe wraps her up tight and as soon as we wrapped her, she conked right out. Heaven. I could switch arms when one fell asleep! I could hand her to Brett so I could get ready for bed and brush my teeth! She snoozed peacefully on.

We also have two of these, which I like better because the material is more breathable (and they’re cuter) but she can fuss out of those. They’re nice to use before she gets fussy but once she’s crying, it looks like we’ll be dragging out the SwaddleMe.

Brett says she’s like a Rubik’s cube and perhaps we’ve found the solution.

Andi had the good thought that maybe she was having lactose issues, especially since she’s part African American. I’ve been watching for that but she doesn’t seem to have any digestive troubles. She rarely spits up, doesn’t have a rumbly tummy, doesn’t toot more than any other baby I’ve met. Also her fussiness doesn’t seem to relate to when she’s eaten.

My take on Madison is that she’s frustrated and very, very small. Noah was fussy, too, but in a different way. I think he was more easily comforted because, frankly, he was nursing. He got more suckling. Madison won’t always take the binky even when I think it would help. Sometimes she’ll take my pinky but really, I don’t think she’s getting as much sucking as her little body needs. Anyway, like Noah, she likes motion. She likes to be walked, bounced, patted and jiggled. And she likes those things done with great enthusiasm. This is a challenge because frankly, she’s heavy. I’m going to have great biceps at the end of this. I woke up last week with my arms full of lactic acid like I’d been working out on a weight machine from juggling her around all day.

Since she was three weeks old she’s done baby push-ups, hoisting her chest up on her meaty little arms when we put her tummy-down on a blanket. She’s had great neck control since she arrived on the planet. She’ll cry to sit up if she’s being cradled and would rather be held upright on our knee then leaning back against our bodies.

Brett keeps wanting to fix her fussiness but I just want to figure out how to live with it. I subscribe to this belief about crying babies:

Even though you may feel ineffective when holding your crying baby, in reality you are providing her with much-needed emotional support while she is releasing stress in this manner. Your baby is not rejecting you when she is crying. She is simply feeling safe enough to show you her feelings, just as you yourself might burst into tears if a trusted friend were to put his arm around you and acknowledge that you have had a hard day. Parents who hold their babies and allow them to express themselves in this manner usually notice that their babies are relaxed and content after the crying spell, and sleep better at night.

I think Madison is crying for a lot of reasons: I think she’s bored and frustrated for one but also I think she’s crying about being with J. and then losing J. I may be wrong. I don’t exactly want to visit my assumptions on her but I think, “Well, she’s had a rough start and she’s telling us about it.”

The hard thing is figuring out how to live the rest of our family lives with a crying baby. With Noah (who likely cried a lot because his birth experience was so traumatic and painful), he was the whole deal. We lived in a tiny apartment that needed no upkeep, we only needed to feed ourselves, and I could focus all of my attention on him. With Madison, I have to take care of Noah, too, and that makes it all much harder. Brett and I were brainstorming today about ways to streamline some things and trying to come up with some projects for Noah to keep him happy, too.

Mostly, I think we’re just going to have to wait. I think 12-weeks may be a turn-around for us; it is for most babies.

Rabbit rabbit!

Baby is sleeping after a restless night. Actually she’s a good night sleeper — still gets up a lot of course because she’s only a month old — but settles back right quick once she’s had her nip at the bottle and been settled back in my arms. During the day, however, she’s a tiny bit fussy. Now I wouldn’t curse her by calling her a “fussy baby” but I will admit that she’s a baby who is prone to fuss.

Madison is already establishing a personality — she likes things the way she likes them and if they aren’t the way she likes them, she gets mad. Problem is she’s just a wee bairn and so she’s not so hot at letting us know what she does like but she can certainly holler when we’re screwing up. She likes to be held this way not that way unless the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter’s aligned with Mars and then she’d rather we do it this entirely different way. She likes pretty near constant movement — walking or patting or rocking or bouncing. She likes to be on her tummy (no, not for sleeping though she’d probably like that, too) except when she wants to be sitting up so she can look around. In the sling, she likes both hands held when she’s feeling fretful. This kid, she’s a lot of work.

At least there’s no colic, no major spitting up. In fact, she rarely spits up although our whole world smells like sour milk because of how she controls the flow of the bottle. We’ve got the newborn Avent nipples on but she still suckles and spits as she goes if she’s wanting just a bit of a snack and not the whole darn thing. Not sure what to do about that. We’ve tried positioning her differently and switching out a binkie or my pinky finger when she starts to spit but she’ll get mightily annoyed because what she wants is the bottle AND to spit out 25% of the formula as she goes. I guess we could try a different bottle system but dangit, this one was expensive and I’d hate to throw it out. Besides she doesn’t do it every time. This kid, she’s unpredictable.

Everything else is fine. She’s hale and hearty and definitely cute but my gosh, demanding. I hope this bodes well for her future. I hope this means she’ll be a strong-minded person with great expectations. See, that’s me being positive after jouncing, bouncing, patting and rocking her for several hours last night before she reluctantly settled into sleep. By the end of it all, Brett and I were barely on speaking terms because when you can’t punish the baby for being a baby, you can always punish your partner just for showing up.