Three Month Update

Dear Lana,

You turn three months old today, and I feel vaguely like I’ve completed a marathon. The three-month milestone is something I’ve been working toward since your birth, and it seems significant for several reasons. To begin with, most descriptions of colic indicate an expected end to the unreasonable fussiness around three months. I fully intend to hold you to this end date. As of today there will be no more episodes of screaming like your arms are being pulled off unless they are, in fact, being pulled off.

Many of the books I have read also describe three months as the point in which babies become fully engaged and ready to process the world around them. The Happiest Baby On the Block called the first three months the “fourth trimester” – a time that should really be spent still in the womb were it not for the logistics of giving birth to a 13 lb baby. One of John’s books even warned us that you would look like a small, misshapen alien until you reached three months of age. I am biased, of course, but I think you’ve been beautiful and not at all alien-like since your very first day of life. You have certainly been engaged in the world for quite some time now, but you’ve recently added a new expression of intense, forehead-crinkled concentration that makes you look like you’re contemplating the meaning of existence instead of just the meaning of the lyrics “the wheels on the bus go round and round.”

Finally, three months marks the end of my maternity leave, so I’ll be getting back to work next week. The idea of returning to work has been made much easier by the unexpected but timely opportunity to work from home. I will certainly miss our time spent leisurely rocking in the recliner and watching bad daytime television, but now we can sit together and make project plans and spreadsheets. What infant doesn’t enjoy a good Gannt chart? Should project management fail to entertain, however, your Granny T and Aunt Syble will be on hand to help us out.

So, now that we’ve survived the fourth trimester, I am confident that things will just get better from here. I look forward to watching you complete that roll onto your stomach that you’ve been working on, seeing you sit up, and finding out who will win Top Chef together. You are my Lana Bear and I love you very, very much.

-Mom

Giving Thanks

Today we celebrated our first Thanksgiving with Lana. Sitting in my home surrounded by family while holding my baby girl reminded me of just how much I have to be thankful for.

It was this time last year that I started taking medication to correct a hormonal imbalance. The medicine made me constantly sick to my stomach, and the need to take it made me realize that getting pregnant might not be easy, or even possible.

Amazingly, Lana was conceived just days after I began taking the medication. I am so thankful for the ease with which we got pregnant, the lack of complications during pregnancy and delivery, and the beautiful, healthy baby girl that has made our family complete. I could have eaten a corn dog for dinner (but thanks to the grandmothers I didn't have to), and this still would have been the best Thanksgiving holiday of my life.

Baby Talk

My friend Vinique, a fellow tennis enthusiast and mother, passed along an interesting excerpt from The Oprah Winfrey Show about the secret language of babies. The guest on the show explains that all babies, regardless of nationality or race, speak the same language between the ages of zero to three months. She outlines five basic “words” that are part of all babies’ natural reflexes:

Neh = "I'm hungry"
Owh = "I'm sleepy"
Heh = "I'm experiencing discomfort"
Eair = "I have lower gas"
Eh = "I need to burp"

Based on my experience with Lana, the list is missing:
“AHHHH!” = “I’m experiencing feelings of intense frustration and I’m about two seconds away from calling the authorities to report you people for gross negligence.”

For more information on the secret language of babies theory, view the video here.

Boob Tube

I watch way too much daytime television. It’s not that I don’t have more pressing things to do, like eating, bathing, or using the restroom. It’s just that watching TV is one of the few things I can do while feeding or holding Lana, which is what I do for most of the day.

Here’s what I have discovered in my many hours of daytime television consumption:

1. After 8:00 am, The Today Show morphs from a somewhat respectable news show to a big bowl of crazy, seasoned with ridiculous cooking segments in which every single member of the show simultaneously prepares the same dish and Anne Curry in a Halloween costume that makes me feel icky.

2. The endless marathon of baby shows on TLC is much less scary after actually giving birth to my own child. I avoided episodes of A Baby Story while I was pregnant, but now I actually enjoy watching the women who pledge to have a “natural” birth beg and cry for an epidural once the contractions begin. In my favorite episode so far, a feisty lawyer (who sensibly planned to have an epidural) explained that her pregnancy tastes required all the food on her plate to be strictly separated. “I don’t like my rice fraternizing with my beans,” she said. Man, do I know what she means. I can think of little worse than the unholy union of pickles and my Chick-fil-a sandwich.

3. There are some very strange video games being marketed to daytime television viewers. Nintendogs, for example, allows you to train your very own puppy during your “nothing” time. Having trained a puppy before, I can safely say that I have no interest in reliving the experience of cleaning pee and poop out of my carpet in video game form. Perhaps The Desperate Housewives PC game will be more to my liking. I’m not sure exactly what the game includes, but the commercial shows a unique mix of digital gardening and slapping.

4. There are A LOT of people out there in need of a makeover, and even more makeover shows ready to liberate them from their acid-washed jeans and holiday-themed sweaters. I watch these shows and remind myself that having a crying baby in need of a soothing car ride is no excuse for going through the Chick-fil-a drive through in my pajamas and retainer. And if I have done that in the past, I should never publicly admit to it.

Recognition

My morning routine now consists of waking up to the sound of Lana’s cries, scooping her out of her bassinet, unwrapping her from her Miracle Blanket (have I plugged that thing enough?), and preparing a bottle for her as fast as I can. Lana sticks out her lower lip the entire time in an expression that is sad but comical and cries feebly to let me know that she may actually starve to death if I don’t get a bottle into her mouth pronto.

Yesterday morning, however, marked a break from our routine. As I leaned over to pick up my crying baby, she broke into a beautiful, heart-melting smile the second she saw me. It was a smile that said, “I have a mommy and she won’t let me lie here and waste away!” It was a smile that made all the sleepless nights, the burst eardrums, and the sore boobs completely and totally worthwhile.

In the corporate world, managers like to say that recognition of a job well done is a more powerful motivator than compensation. I don’t believe for a second that anyone would work all day for nothing more than a pat on the head or a word of thanks from his or her boss. No one but a parent, that is.

Hear Lana Cry, See Rico Run

For almost eight years, Rico enjoyed being the baby in the family. The arrival of an actual baby caught Rico by surprise, as he was totally oblivious to the pregnancy preparations or the huge protrusion in my belly. Fortunately, Rico has adjusted reasonably well. As expected, he is a little wary and a lot jealous of our new, noisy addition to the family.

The main surprise has been Rico’s reaction to Lana’s cries. He absolutely hates to hear her cry and looks to us to fix her the second she begins to fuss. Whether he does this out of concern for Lana’s well-being or just for his own eardrums I can’t be sure, but he’s more effective than the baby monitor at letting us know when Lana is crying.

This sounds like a helpful response and, in some cases, it actually is. When I am taking a shower and Rico darts into the bathroom, I know that Lana is awake and unhappy. It is less helpful, however, when I am in the same room as our screaming baby and have a dog crawling up my leg to let me know the baby is upset. In these instances, I would have to be blind and deaf not to notice she is crying, and even then I would probably feel the vibrations of her screams coming off the walls.

During Lana’s more major outbursts, Rico sounds the alert and then heads for shelter under a chair or table. He reminds me of those Cold War era videos in which school children are instructed to climb under their desks in response to a nuclear attack. It must feel comforting to be under a hard surface, but deep down even Rico knows there is no escape.