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Sarah Granger

September 2010

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MAMAANDADAT

Jan 08, 2007 03:22am (EST)

My daughter turned 1 year-old yesterday. As we began our bedtime routine, she crawled onto a soft blanket in her room and said "mamaandadat". This was the first time she ever said both our names together in one phrase and it was music to our ears after a long and trying year.

Our daughter's first year began two weeks late and sixteen hours after my water broke, ending several months of bed rest and waiting. She was a "big baby" as the delivering Obstetrician noted during the final pushes (note to all OB/GYNs out there - this is not what a pushing mother wants to hear...) and came out smiling. If it weren't for her absolutely angelic constitution, I would not have survived the past year.

Six weeks into motherhood, I was given the green light by my doctor to go anywhere, do anything. I looked fine, but I was still having severe post partum pain. It took me two more months to even be able to describe where the pain came from. Meanwhile, I tried to get help from my mother (who lived too far away), a post partum doula (who became ill and then moved), and a series of nannies (who just weren't right for the job) - none of whom I had the time or energy to train properly. I spent every day in excruciating pain and every night sobbing and wishing for it all to end.

Meanwhile my daughter was growing like a string bean. She decided to sit up before she was 3 months old. She started standing at 4 months and started cruising at 5 months. (No joke.) There was no way to keep up with her energy. My husband, already working long hours for a taxing high-tech job, kept taking care of all of the household tasks I couldn't since going on bed rest. He hadn't had more than 4-5 hours of sleep a night in months and still hasn't. Finally I found a nanny who I felt comfortable enough with and was able to start resting, but the damage was done. It took several more months to get a clear diagnosis on what was wrong with me and a hand full of doctors.

Now I'm being seen by a neurologist at the Stanford Pain Clinic, a physical therapist, a psychologist and a new OB. "Nerve trauma", "chronic neuropathic pain", "stretched nerve" and "overactive nerves from muscle strain" have become common phrases in my vocabulary. Essentially in the weeks after I gave birth, as a result of the delivery and the lack of rest, some of my internal nerve tissue became hypersensitive and extremely inflamed, then causing residual irritation externally and reflecting to other areas. This was in addition to a few other problems that I won't go into here.

My daughter's first year birthday began with for me by taking a hefty dose of vicodin in order to sleep at midnight, alternating throughout the night with the maximum amount of motrin possible before obliterating my much maligned liver. Then after being knocked-out for several hours, I debated whether to put on topical lidocaine (anesthetic) ointment for the birthday party and sat on the sitz bath for a while. Finally, the party hour arrived and my daughter was still napping.

My husband and I took the opportunity for a few moments rest before waking our sleeping infant and departing from our current house to our new home where family and friends were waiting anxiously for the guest of honor. No longer a "big baby" but definitely a tall toddler, she rode proudly facing forward in the car seat for the first time.

Our daughter enjoyed her party immensely, including riding around in her new ride-on vehicle, playing with some new friends and a plethora of toys and balloons, and opening up several fun gifts. She grinned and giggled, marched a few steps on her own, posed for photos and spent time hugging each person goodbye as our family left. She missed her second nap completely from all of the excitement and wound down quickly after everyone was gone.

I survived the day feeling much less pain than expected, having been allowed the opportunity to recline at intervals during the festivities. By the time our little one snuggled onto that blanket sweetly saying "mamaandadat", it was just what we needed to hear, as if she was thanking us for everything we went through over the past year. Somehow it made every moment of pain and exhaustion worth it.

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (2) | Permalink

I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT...

Oct 22, 2006 10:39am (EST)

Is it normal, with a nine month-old baby, to still be amazed daily that she's alive? I don't think this is a phenomenon that developed while I was having preterm contractions. I think it began earlier than that.

I've just been wowed ever since the first ultrasound and we saw the pulsating "dot" on the screen. Then the 20 week ultrasound was incredible - I had no idea we would be able to see so much. Being able to determine she had 4 working heart chambers blew me away. Then the kicking and moving inside me certainly was something I never expected.

Once she was born, of course, I was totally enamored and intrigued by her every move. Now every day she does something new. And when she walks around with me ony holding one hand - I think I must be dreaming. I still can't believe she has ten fingers and ten toes and breathes by herself.

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (5) | Permalink

SMILEY GIRL

Oct 18, 2006 02:13am (EST)

Every day, I'm amazed at my baby - her cuteness, sweetness, strength, independence, and talents. She's a very good baby, as babies go (so I'm told - this is my first experience) and she is full of smiles and energy. Some days are more amazing than others, however, in her sweetness and smiles. She just overflows.

Today was one of those days. She woke up all full of joy and exuberance beyond what most people would consider a normal level of positive energy, but it's just who she is. She was determined to traverse the whole house by any means possible, talking, playing, and grinning. She had a marvelous time and her happiness was infectious.

When I sit back and ponder how some people can go from being so happy as babies to so miserable as adults, it makes me sad; but today was not a day for such ruminations. Today, I just soaked up every one of her smiles like a sunbather soaks up the sun. If only we could all have such glowing gaiety about our daily lives. Each day I cherish her more, and each day I hope her happiness will last longer.

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (3) | Permalink

BLOGGING THERAPY

Oct 10, 2006 01:01am (EST)

I hurt. It's the deep, soul-shattering kind of pain this time. My very special kitty, Muff, died last night. I wrote several paragraphs about what we went through and then decided I really didn't want that here. Instead, I just want to share that he was loved. For those of you who love your pets as close family members, you understand.

Muff was 10 1/2. That's like a 55 year-old man dying. It was lymphoma and months on steroids and chemotherapy. I know people here understand what it's like to make difficult decisions and feel trapped not know whether the decision you make, generally recommended by a doctor who you may or may not trust, is the right one. Ending Muff's life was the right one when it happened, because it was a merciful decision, but we'll never know if we'd taken different steps if the outcome over several months could've changed.

I can't imagine what it would be like to lose one's child that one has given birth to, because it's an even deeper connection we feel to them. But I have lost a loved pet before - one who was born in my room when I was 9 years old, and with whom I shared a genuine closeness. He lived a long life and lasted until age 17 - unusual for an indoor/outdoor cat. Last night, I lost an indoor cat who I adopted as a kitten who never hurt a fly and was always sweet to all cats and people, who was kind hearted and endearing in many ways, and who I loved.

I don't understand death and on some level I think I'm still an idealist in that I don't understand why death comes so often to the innocents. (And especially I don't understand why we purposely inflict it upon each other for selfish reasons.) The younger they are, the harder it is. With pets, we often know what we're getting into when we adopt them into our homes and hearts. We know that we will most likely outlive them, but we do it anyway.

The last time I went through this gut-wrenching soul torment, I looked at my other cats and couldn't possibly imagine going through it again. And when I was having preterm contractions at week 30 (see my first post, "Introducing Dot"), it was that fear that kept me in bed, praying my baby would make it past her first few breaths, her first few days, her first few weeks.

Today, my baby was to go on a walk with our nanny who helps me out, and two other cats were to go to the vet for checkups. I couldn't let any of them out of my sight and decided instead for them to stay home with me. Obviously I can't keep them all from harm forever and we all have to go sometime, but that still doesn't mean it's not scary or truly terrible when it happens.

Muff was lucky, I guess. He wasn't a lab cat used in some sort of experiments for a make-up company, forced to live in a cage all of his life. He wasn't a feral cat scrounging for food on the streets of Calcutta. He wasn't a stray left at a shelter only to be euthanized because there isn't enough space. But due to where we live, we had to keep him inside where he couldn't enjoy the trees and the grass. Now, he's buried under them. Sure, I could've let him out but I've had a cat hit by a car and killed before. I didn't want that. (They say the average life expectancy for indoor cats is 14 and for outdoor cats, it's 4.)

I guess the moral of my message here, if there is one at all, is that we make choices for our children and our pets and those that we are responsible for and caregivers for (sometimes our parents, sometimes others). We never really know whether those are the right choices. There are some choices we know are wrong, however, and at least we can steer clear of those and from there on, we do our best. I feel this huge responsibility as a new mom to keep my baby safe.

At this point, I can't fathom what it will be like to send her off to college, let alone to kindergarden, away from me. Every time she goes for a walk with a babysitter, I'm afraid of what might happen. Every time she's in the car with me, I fear we'll be broad-sided. I know this will pass over time as I become more used to being a parent, but I can't imagine the emotion I would feel if something did go wrong would be any less.

As a pet parent for many years, I still don't know everything about what's best for them and now I'm undertaking this more difficult, more fragile challenge of bringing up a human being with an incredibly complex brain and personality that surpasses that of any cats (although don't discount their emotional depth - they can feel pain too, just differently from us).

There never seems to be enough caregiving energy to go around in today's fast-paced world. But still, we dig deeper and come out with whatever we can of our hearts that we can give to these unique creatures and we love them. And when they hurt, we hurt. And it begins again.

It's worth it for the quiet moments of love and closeness. It's worth it when you know you did more than 99% of the population would have. It's worth it when you understand that they loved you back, even if it was in a limited way. No matter who they were or what their chromosomal makeup was, they were part of your family.

At least this is how I feel, after spending a lot of time getting to know some special members of different species as well as people who haven't been blessed with the gift of all of the mental abilities that most of us have. They are different, but they still have great value and great love to give. And when we share that love with them, and then they are gone, the loss is no less significant.

I found a couple of comforting links:
http://www.pet-loss.net/ and Best Friends Animal Sanctuary and other organizations have pet memorial sites.

(Photo: me with Muff.)

seg-muff

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (4) | Permalink

SAVORING THE MOMENTS

Oct 03, 2006 10:01pm (EST)

Recently, I mended my daughter's stuffed kitty. A mundane mom task - absolutely, but this was the first stuffed animal I ever bought her and the first one that needed mending. She is fond of her kitty and we all have a sentimental attachment to it. Somehow, the simple act of sewing a few little stitches to secure the paw onto the body made me feel like a good mom.

Before the playgroups and gymboree and language emersion and music class and swim class all begin, I want to savor this time of simplicity in parenthood. My daughter still looks at me with these joyful eyes each time I see her. She smiles and squeals and raises her arms for a hug. She snuggles her stuffed kitty or her stuffed bunny and carries it around everywhere she goes. She is fascinated by the newness of a leaf in the grass, its color and its texture and I savor these special moments with her.

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (8) | Permalink

8 MONTHS A DELIGHT

Sep 07, 2006 11:21pm (EST)

Julia turned 8 months old today. She started crawling. Each month, she has a milestone on her monthly birthday, it seems. She's really amazing.

I started a monthly newsletter for our family that tells them about all of her growth and milestones. But what I find most amazing is her attitude and her tenacity.

For such a little thing (well, she's very tall for her age, but little compared to the rest of us), she can now run through our small house in about five seconds as long as I'm holding her hands. She grunts as she pulls herself up from sitting to her little musical table. She identifies cats and kittens when looking at books and images and loves to say her first word repeatedly, "cat". She does this all with complete determination and joy.

Of course, our cats aren't so sure what to think of this little creature that they recently realized they can't intimidate enough to make her leave. Instead, she screams when she sees them and starts charging after. It gives them exercise, but they're not so thrilled. The last time our house had any activity like this was when our youngest cat (now 8 years old) was a kitten. He still thinks he's mama's boy and grabs whatever attention he can. I wish I could explain to them that Julia will become their best friend in a few years, but alas, they don't have the learning capacity she does.

They (always the proverbial "they") say becoming a parent gives you perspective and that's certainly right. As I struggle to regain my strength from months of bed rest and recover, I think about how much she's having to learn and develop each day in order to do these new things I still take for granted.

I marvel at how easy she is with new people and how she charms them. I laugh at every cute little sound she makes when she's sleepy. And I cry when she bumps her head while playing with her reflection at the window. What a wonderful little girl she is. Maybe I'm just more of a philosopher than most, or perhaps too much time lying in bed worrying about her birth gave me added perspective, but I just can't get over each new little thing she does. It blows my mind. Or maybe it's just because I'm used to cats.

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (1) | Permalink

BAD DAYS THAT AREN'T SO BAD AFTER ALL

Aug 15, 2006 10:33pm (EST)

I just finished reading a blog post about moms who had bad days - sick nannies, running late, speeding tickets, etc. and I thought to myself how people in this community would be happy to have a day like that - home with a healthy kid even amidst the chaos.

I'm not saying days like that aren't bad or that we don't all hate them, particularly when the major things in our lives aren't going well in an underlying sense (health, relationships, etc.) but a little perspective does everyone good. I feel sorry for myself sometimes and I whine a bit even when I try not to, but today I couldn't do that.

Today, I got up and left the house for a medical appointment and on the wall they had some information from a woman running in a half marathon in Hawaii. "She has it rough," I thought at first sarcastically. Then I read about her friend who had lymphoma and was given 3 years to live. It's been six and she's still going. The woman was running on her friend's behalf. Good for her to go to Hawaii to do it - a beautiful place to feel confident working for a cure for her friend's health.

Then I was lucky enough to have my first massage appointment in months and I was thinking about my friend who is a breast cancer survivor who I haven't heard from in a while (I'm worried the cancer might have come back - she just doesn't talk about these things) who was a massage therapist. And I thought about how lucky I am that as far as I know what's wrong with me is not life threatening.

My dad spent a year in an iron lung battling polio. He doesn't talk about those days much, but after nearly a year off and on bed rest I certainly feel a little more for what he went through and actually I feel even more in awe that he was able to survive it with so much grace and courage. My troubles are nothing in comparison to that.

I read an article recently about a little boy with a debilitating brain disease and how he never complains. And of course I read about these tiny babies in the NICU fighting for their lives, not knowing where they are or what's going on and the parents fighting for them with only hope that they will get bigger and stronger and get out soon... well, I just feel like it's not worth complaining about the little stuff. Sometimes we have to do it, but really a parking ticket or a late appointment are such small potatoes in the scheme of things.

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (2) | Permalink

A BLESSING IN DISGUISE?

Aug 10, 2006 06:19pm (EST)

The jury's still out as to whether this is a good thing, but I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge how being on bed rest has changed my perspective on my life and my career.

I was jumping head-first into a great new consulting gig when I first heard the news I was pregnant. I was so excited about everything, but then it began falling apart when I had to go onto bed rest during the first trimester. I had no choice but to quit my new job (that I had worked very hard to get and was super excited about) and to look my situation in the face.

During the months of bed rest, I decided to focus on my writing. It just seemed the proper course - something I could do from a variety of positions, on a yellow pad or on a computer, as able, on my own time. I'd had some other health problems in the recent past and this seemed a flexible, long-term option for me. Easier said than done.

I tried for a while to work on article queries but by the time I developed this new goal, I was back on bed rest and we had no idea when the baby would be born. I wanted to work on a large-scale project - a book proposal - but there was no point in submitting something like that when I had no idea when I would go into labor. So I waited.

Then once the baby was born, I focused, of course, on her health and mine. But I still hadn't recovered, so I was going stir crazy having been depressed and confined to the couch for several months. Finally I decided it was time to come out of my shell and launch my own blog, something I had been contemplating for a few years but the timing never seemed quite right.

Blogging has been a rebirth. I've only been doing it for a couple of weeks now, but coming back to this site, working on my own and participating in the Silicon Valley Moms Blog has presented me not only with a new outlook for my career but also a supportive online community. This community is incredibly helpful while I'm still stuck at home and keep missing all of the social events of interest.

I'm still working on my book proposal - whittling away at it every couple of days. I'm blogging and writing articles every once in a while, but I am trying not to overcommit because I still hope that I will get better soon and can turn my attention back to the little one who's growing so big!

I never saw myself as a 100% full-time mom, so while that possibility was remote regardless, the bed rest and recovery period has forced me to focus on my writing. Now, instead of going stir crazy playing the 800th game of solitaire on my cell phone while on the sitz bath, I'm drafting blog posts instead and making new friends.

Meanwhile, I'm looking forward to the day - hopefully not long from now - when I can be writing about 4 hours a day and spending the rest of the time with my daughter.

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (1) | Permalink

STILL IN RECOVERY

Aug 06, 2006 02:13pm (EST)

I was going to abandon this blog, figuring that it was no longer appropriate to be posting since I'd made it full term had a healthy baby. However, as the months have passed, I still have not recovered.

I'm in pain every day - pretty terrible pain most days, in fact - and I'm seeking the support of a community again. It's like I'm still on bed rest only I can move around in pain. I get to spend time with my baby, but I need help almost all the time.

I didn't intend for this blog to be a rant or a list of complaints. I'm just listing the facts first. This is my life currently and although I wouldn't trade my amazing daughter for anything, I'm in a frustrating situation since the pain doesn't seem to be getting any better.

I've seen four doctors. I finally found one I like within 5 mins from my house since it hurts so much to sit in the car and get there. They are good problem solvers and I feel like we will find a solution, but I'm sick of waiting.

I was worried for a while that I was alone but then I searched online and realized quite a few women have postpardum pain up to a year and occasionally longer. My new doctor makes it sound quite common, but it's one of those things people just don't talk about. Because everyone focuses on how wonderful it is that the baby is healthy. And it is. I am very lucky.

I am also lucky that what's wrong with me is not something life threatening, dangerous, or requiring major surgery. From what we can tell, it's just nerve damage. But nerves take a long time to heal. So I'll keep waiting.

Some days are worse than others. It's directly related to how much I push myself. Some days I just have to get out of the house and I know I'll pay for it later. But at least I can get out of the house, unlike when I was on bed rest. It just hurts more.

Most people end up thinking I had a C-section when I mention a long recovery, so I like to clarify. That's not what's happening. There are a few different problems that I won't go into, and we're still not certain what's causing them.

In any case, we have worked out a system where I get as much time as possible with my baby, I stand outside for a few minutes of light each day, I rest often and am becoming more productive from bed. I do house work when I feel up to it, and I have a friend over about once a week. I have lots of help - it's necessary - not what I would have preferred.

What kept me going during bed rest were all the plans I was making to go to the park with my baby, go sit in the cafe together, go walking with other moms, and to reconnect with my husband. Alas, I'm still waiting for most of that. We made it to the park once so far, and that was a special memory. We've been to the cafe twice (it's closer) but I always pay for that later.

I know I'm doing a good thing breast feeding her as long as I can, but we're trying to teach her to drink formula every day. External Estrogen cream is helping my healing improve somewhat, but weaning would probably help a lot more. We'll see what happens. I'm not the type to go cold turkey with nursing or sleep training so I still stay up with her and nurse knowing the rest I could get in exchange would help me heal faster.

Parenting is certainly about trade-offs, but I didn't expect so many dramatic dilemmas this early on. She's a gem though, my little one. She's full of energy and smiles and curiousity about everything around her. I enjoy each minute - I like to think I enjoy it more than most moms who find it cumbersome to drag their babies with them wherever they go. The grass is always greener, eh?

The doctors have a list of different options to try so we're exploring each of them in a scientific, systematic way. I expect that worst case, it'll be another six months until I'm healed but hopefully no longer. Some people tell me to continue to be patient. Others say: "just wean her", "do what you can for yourself", but that's easier said than done.

I know it's only a matter of time until I heal fully, but this may be the only baby I have and I wanted so much to have more precious moments with her when she was little. She's growing so fast... she'll be crawling any day now and walking soon thereafter. No offense, but I'd rather be helping her make those first steps than blogging from bed. Until then, I'm happy I can share my thoughts here - it keeps me from feeling alone.

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (2) | Permalink

JULIA

Aug 02, 2006 12:04pm (EST)

Julia is now almost 7 months old! I can't believe how time flies. I'm so happy she's healthy and happy.

Posted by Sarah Granger | Comments: (2) | Permalink

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