3 weeks

Henry is 3 weeks old!  It's been pretty crazy so far.

We ended up checking out of the hospital on Tuesday afternoon (he was born Monday morning at 6:15).  They told us we could stay until Wednesday, but I really hate hospitals and couldn't wait to get home to the comfort of my own bed (that hospital bed is sooo uncomfortable!  It's so hard!).  Plus, my sister Emma came into town on Tuesday and I didn't want to miss out on any of her visit!  Emma came to see us in the hospital early Tuesday afternoon (straight from the airport), and then we finished up the discharge papers after she left to pick up Abbie & Ellie from school.  We got home just before dinner time to find that Emma had gone grocery shopping and had dinner waiting for us, which was a nice surprise!  She's the best.

The first night was hard.  First of all, we don't have a dedicated bedroom for Henry, so we just had a pack and play set up in our bedroom for him (that's what we've done for all our babies so nothing out of the ordinary there).  However, I ran into a problem right away.  First of all, all of our bedrooms are upstairs (well, the 3 bedrooms that we use.  There's a 4th bedroom downstairs on the main level but it's the playroom.  Plus I wouldn't put him down there alone anyway).  The problem with having all the bedrooms upstairs (and no other rooms upstairs) is that I can't be up with the baby without going downstairs (and the thought of going up and down wooden stairs in the middle of the night, over and over again, in my state of exhaustion, was scary to me).  And Henry, being a typical newborn, didn't sleep that first night.  We still hadn't gotten a hang of nursing, so it was taking him forever to latch, and he kept crying.  I tried sitting on the wooden rocking chair in our bedroom to nurse him, but it was uncomfortable and nothing was working.  I could barely keep my eyes open (I had only slept maybe a total of 5 hours since I had woken up on Sunday morning, this was Tuesday night) and I was afraid I would fall asleep in the rocking chair and drop him.  I changed his diaper on the floor of our bathroom... he cried throughout that.  I was so stressed he would wake up the whole family, or that our neighbors would hear him (we share walls).  Finally around 2:30 I went downstairs to the living room and tried to nurse him down there on the couch.  Long story short, I slept maybe a total of one hour that night.  It was rough.

The next few days are kind of a blur.  I really wanted to enjoy Emma's visit so I probably didn't nap as much as I should have.  But on the other hand, I really didn't have many opportunities to nap. Henry still wasn't nursing well, and was constantly hungry.  I could literally have him latched on for over an hour, and when I would take him off he would start crying his "hungry cry" and I knew he had hardly eaten anything.  He had a lazy suck, and was too tired to put in much of an effort.  He slept in little 30 minute intervals here and there (usually while latched), and when he was awake he was crying because he was hungry.  He was only quiet when I was "nursing" him.  So, this didn't give me much time to sleep.  Thursday morning he had his 3-day checkup, and he weighed 7 lbs 9 oz... a drop from his weight at the hospital discharge time (7 lbs 11 oz), and a bigger drop from his initial birth weight (7 lbs 15 oz).  It was still within the "normal" range for weight drop, but disheartening nonetheless.  Since my milk had come in by this point, he should have been gaining again.

The weekend happened... still a blur.  Emma left early Saturday morning, which was sad.  It was so fun to have her around.  The most valuable thing she did was play with my other kids!  It was sooo nice that they were occupied and happy and taken care of, so I could focus on bonding with Henry (and trying to keep him fed).  Garrett was also off work that first week, which was a huge help.  He and Emma got the kids off the school each morning, kept Olivia occupied, ran errands, and generally just kept the house together.  I nursed... and nursed... and nursed. And slept on the couch sitting up while Henry was latched on, not eating (just making me sore).

After that first night, I resolved to just start out my night downstairs in the living room, rather than even trying to sleep in my room (too stressful).  We bought a Rock & Play for Henry to sleep in downstairs (we don't have any baby gear anymore besides the pack and play, and I had nowhere to set him down when we were downstairs).  So, he sleeps in that and now, 3 weeks in, I'm still sleeping in the living room every night, with Henry in the Rock & Play next to me.  I miss my bed.  I've taken a nap or two up there in the last 3 weeks, and it's been glorious, but other than that, its the couch for me.  Not the ideal situation... I wish I had a nursery with a crib for Henry and a twin bed for me, and a nice recliner or rocker for nursing.

Anyway, we had a weight check for Henry the next Tuesday (he was 8 days old).  We were called back into the little exam room, and soon the nurse came in to get us to bring him out to the hall to be weighed.  First she asked me how things were going, and that's when the tears came.  I told her how exhausted I was, how sore I was from the constant nursing, how he never slept, how he always cried because he was hungry.  I was so tired.  I hate crying in front of people but no one had really asked me how I was doing until that moment.  I didn't think I was that emotional about it until it happened.  I kept apologizing and saying I was just so tired, not sad, just exhausted.  She listened to me and told me she was sure everything was going to be fine, and we went out to weigh the baby.  7 lbs, 3 oz.  He had dropped another 6 oz over the last 6 days!  I felt awful.

The doctor came in and we chatted for a bit (and of course I cried some more, ugh).  The lactation consultant also came in and tried to help us out a bit.  By the time I left my appointment, we had a plan... I would continue to keep trying to nurse, but only for about 10 minutes on each side.  After that, I would feed him a bottle -- either pumped milk, or formula.

Things immediately got better.  After trying to nurse him (which was really painful still, but we kept trying), I would feed him a bottle, usually half breast milk and half formula (I could only pump about 2-3 oz if I was lucky, but he was wanting to eat 4 oz after nursing him, which tells me that he really wasn't getting anything from me).  After the bottle, I would go pump for the next time.  By Thursday (his next weight check), he had gained 3 oz. He was also sleeping more, which meant I was sleeping more (only about 2.5 - 3 hours at a time, but still... so much better than before).

And now, 3 weeks old, he weighs over 8 lbs.  He's still eating about every 3 hours around the clock, and still eating 4-5 oz each feeding.  I rented a hospital-grade pump last week, which seems to do a better job than my Pump In Style was doing.. I'm usually able to get at least 3 oz now, which means I am supplementing with less formula.  I gave up nursing altogether for about 5 days (the whole nurse-bottlefeed-pump was so overwhelming and time-consuming), and just pumped and bottle fed during that time, which was great.  A few days ago I started trying to nurse again a couple times a day and he seems to be doing okay with it.  I still just do bottles (and pump) during the night, since nursing is still kind of an ordeal and I'm so exhausted.

So, the fog is starting to lift.  I'm starting to feel like a real person again, which I didn't think would ever happen.  Honestly, there were a few days in there where I wondered how we would survive.  Garrett had that first week off, then the second week he worked the night shift, which meant he was only gone from around 10:30pm - 5:15 am.. while the other kids slept.  So, it was doable.  He woke up before the girls got home from school (so, he continued to pick them up and deal with the after-school stuff, and help with dinner, etc).  Then, he had another week off after that (they automatically get a week off after their week of nights, it doesn't count against his vacation time which is nice).  So, for another week he was able to pick the girls up from school and deal with the homework and piano and dance and all that.  Throughout that whole time, I dreaded when he would go back to his normal work routine (7:30am to around 6 or 7pm sometimes).  I wondered how I would do it all.  I was still so tired.  I didn't remember it being this hard with any of my other babies.  Of course, I didn't have as many responsibilities back then.  I could stay home all day if I wanted/needed to.  Abbie was in kindergarten when Olivia was born... now I have 2 kids in elementary school, with after school activities, extra-curricular stuff,  etc.  Plus Olivia was such an easy baby, so the transition wasn't hard at all!  In some ways, it's nice that they are older and can care for themselves.  But having them be older is also a lot harder in other ways.

But, like I said before.. the fog is lifting.  I got dressed yesterday (in maternity jeans, but still... I hadn't worn those in months since I just wear dresses and skirts by the end). I did a major grocery shopping trip alone with the 2 younger kids.  I took 3 kids to Sam's Club while Abbie was at piano lessons (just to get Ellie's pupils measured at the optometry center, nothing major, but still).  Things are looking up and I don't feel so overwhelmed.  The thought "What the heck was I thinking having 4 kids... how do people do this?!?" is not the forefront thought on my mind anymore.... so that's good.  It looks like life might start to feel normal soon after all.  Thank goodness.  Because Henry's a little sweetheart and we love having him in our family.  He makes us feel so much more complete.