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Six Months Old At Etta’s 6 month checkup she weighed in at 16 pounds, 11 ounces and measured 28" long. I postponed the Hepatitis vaccine so she only had two shots – DTaP and HIB. She screamed in pain at the first injection, an ear-piercing shriek I’d never heard from her before. She cries so infrequently that I forgot what she sounds like when she’s truly miserable. It took longer to comfort her this time. I was able to distract her within about a minute after the last shot, but she kept remembering the ordeal and resumed her sobbing several times until we left the clinic. Our longest separation yet My mother had to have emergency surgery, so my husband took a day off work and stayed home with Etta while I went to the hospital to support my mother and give consent for further procedures if needed (my mother had appointed me power of attorney). I was gone 11 hours, my longest separation from Etta yet. While my mother was in the OR having her organs cut out, I was in a bathroom stall in the lobby, pumping milk out of my engorged breasts. It was a very emotional day for me, but in the end my mother was declared healthy and free of cancer. Feeling Sick and Guilty, Too Spring had finally arrived and it was beautiful and sunny, but I was sick as a dog. When Etta napped, which she did only twice a day now, I joined her in slumber. My throat was on fire and my sinuses plugged. Because my throat was so raw I barely said two words all day, and I felt like a horrible mother because of it. Etta could tell that something was wrong with me. She reached out, smiled, tried to get me to interact with her, and I responded weakly. We sat out on the back deck watching the backhoes working on the lots in the new development, which fascinated Etta and kept her occupied while I rested. Pinkeye? Etta woke one the morning with one bloodshot eye. "Oh no! Pinkeye!" I thought. I was still feeling sick, very congested and miserable, and I was afraid that Etta might be coming down with it, too. I called the Pediatrician’s office but was given the nurse’s voicemail (there is NEVER a nurse available to talk to when I call). Frustrated that I’d have to wait hours for a call back, I called the Children’s Hospital recorded information line and punched in the code number for "red or pink eyes." From the recorded message I got the answer: it was not pinkeye because there wasn’t any puss, and more than likely she just scratched her eyeball with her sharp little nails. New Tricks Etta sat unassisted for almost 5 minutes today. I couldn’t believe it. I was sitting on the floor with her between my legs, her back towards me, and she was leaning forward playing with her toes. I took my hands off of her torso and was prepared to catch her if she tumbled to the side, but she didn’t! Etta is enjoying her tongue these days. Her new nickname is "Serpent" because she sticks her tongue way out into a point and then flicks it up and down like a snake! She also does other tricks with her tongue, but basically just enjoys sticking it in and out while humming contentedly. While stopped at an intersection on the way to swimming class this morning I glanced back at Etta in her carseat. She had her arms extended in front of her and was twisting her hands at the wrist with index fingers extended. She looked exactly like an orchestra conductor, serious expression and all. For the past few months Etta’s been a "whirlygig" while nursing, with one arm and both legs flailing about. Her arm used to fly around rather randomly, sometimes crashing down on her head or smacking against my chest. Now her movements are much more refined. The arm is still waves sometimes, but it is her hand that is now perpetually busy. While at the breast nursing, her fingers run up and down the lace of my bra, and with her thumb and forefinger she manipulates the clasp on the bra. Exotic Diner Etta tried a new baby food variety: spinach with potatoes. It smelled really grassy and tasted worse (I taste all her foods to make sure they’re not too hot), but she loved it! I also offered winter squash, which is sweeter, but she definitely preferred the spinach. Etta is fond of savory foods, probably because I eat a lot of Indian food, which she must taste in my breast milk. Nature Lover It was a beautifully sunny day so we spent time working in the garden. Etta got her first "taste" of the outdoors: a mouthful of grass and clover. She was on her belly on a large towel on the lawn, watching me work. She figured out that she could pull at the towel, wad it up beside her body, and soon have the lawn revealed nearby. She excitedly dug her hand into the turf, ripped up a fistful of green, and shoved it in her mouth. Sleeping Disturbances Etta has not been sleeping well. She goes down for the night around 8:00pm, but then wakes less than an hour later, crying. I nurse her back to sleep, and then a half hour later she’s up again. Sometimes she’ll wake four or five times before midnight. Sucked dry and frustrated, I decided to just rock her to sleep without the nursing. She went nuts. Mouth open, tongue out, whimpering "ah, ah," she tore at my shirt with both hands and buried her face into my chest. I finally gave in and bared the breast, and she dropped to sleep after just two sucks. Nursing Crisis As I was putting Etta to bed the next night, she bit me as I tried to nurse her. After the fifth time, with my nipple nearly severed and bleeding badly, I said, "NO," and put her in her bed. I went downstairs and prepared the breast pump. After five minutes I went back to her and picked her up. She’d been crying hard and collapsed to sleep as soon as I cradled her against my shoulder. She was too tired to eat and slept for three hours. We are having a serious nursing crisis. Etta continues to bite me, and now she associates the breast with being told "NO!" I really didn’t want it to get to this, but here we are. When I try to nurse Etta she thrashes and bucks and whimpers in my arms, nuzzling my breast but refusing to open her mouth. After about a quarter of an hour she’s exhausted enough that her mouth relaxes and she latches on for her feed. I’ve been pumping milk for bottle feeds during the day. I offer her the breast first, but she’ll either refuse it or bite me straight away. In the middle of the night she nurses fine because she is so sleepy that it’s automatic (plus I put her to the breast at the first whimper, before she has a chance to wake up and cry). I really want to be able to nurse her for a full year, so I hope she learns not to bite me. She takes the bottle without complaint, so perhaps the end is near. Big Bathtub Etta had her first bath in the big bathtub, sitting in a bath seat that suctions securely to the tub. She kicked her legs and splashed her arms and squealed with delight while I blew soap bubbles up into the air. My husband missed the event because he was out on the road with his 15 year old daughter, giving her a first driving lesson. Germ Philosophy We take Etta out to restaurants all the time, but I bring along our own travel booster seat with a tray, instead of using highchairs provided at restaurants. Our little booster fits her body better and doesn’t have food and bacteria encrusted on it from previous meals. Some restaurant highchairs look as though they’ve never been cleaned! I’m concerned about using high-chairs, shopping cart seats, and other such items in public places because Etta loves to mouth and suck on everything these days. I know that children need to experience a variety of viruses to build up their immunities, but I’m worried about her having to endure one of the antibiotic-resistant illnesses that are spreading like wildfire among kids. For a lot of babies, having ear infections, colds, and intestinal upsets are common, and their parents buy Tylenol by the case at the local warehouse store. I don’t agree that having twelve or more illnesses before the first birthday is "normal," and I’ll do whatever I can – even at the risk of being labeled an obsessive-compulsive hand washer – to protect Etta from getting sick. A Rash Decision Etta’s had an unsightly facial rash that’s been lingering for over a month, so I sheepishly took her in to see the Pediatrician. It was probably nothing, but being a first time mother, all the worst scenarios rushed through my head: ringworm, flesh-eating bacteria, skin cancer… Sure enough, the doctor said Etta’s skin was raw from being constantly wet with saliva, since she had been cutting her teeth and sucking her fingers a lot. I could gently cleanse the area with water a few times a day, but he didn’t recommend putting any moisturizers on it. He said that it would clear up eventually, but not to be concerned she still had it a year’s time, since she had a lot more teeth to cut. Up a size Etta is ready to move up to size 4 disposable diapers. The size 3 are supposed to go to 28 pounds, but they’re getting too tight. Etta’s a lean baby, barely 17 pounds, though she has a long torso. I can’t envision any baby over 20 pounds still fitting comfortably in a size 3. She’s also grown out of her 6 to 9 month size clothes. She can still fit in some 9 to 12 month outfits, but mostly she’s wearing size 12 months already. We have a huge baby carriage from Norway that we use for walks around our neighborhood. Up until this week, she’d been lying on her back in the removable carrycot, watching the sky and the trees overhead. Today she rode sitting up in the seat for the first time. She sat like royalty, waving her hands in the air like a Queen. She still fits in the carrycot but does not want to be on her back the whole time. She wants to be up looking around, and greeting her admirers face to face. |