The Sleeping Chronicles

Our Muffin has had a complicated relationship with sleep. As a newborn she had day-night confusion, sleeping all day and partying like a rock star all night long. She wasn't colicky, she just didn't want to sleep at night. Then, the more she ate, the more she spit up, especially when she was laying down, so we got in the habit of holding her upright for about thirty minutes after she ate to reduce the spitting up. She still yorped all over everything, especially my side of the bed, but she oh-so-angelically slept on my shoulder, allowing me to sleep for short periods of time as well. We had to keep her upright though. Every time we laid her down, whether in her crib or in the bed next to us, she'd wake up. We were dreading years and years of her sleeping on top of us, but we were too tired to argue with the fact that all three of us were sleeping better for the time being.

We read books. We talked to other parents. We were waiting for her to be six weeks old, then three months old, then four months old, waiting for some sort of pattern to establish itself. Then we moved to India, living in hotels for a week along the way. Before the move we'd decided that we wouldn't give any kind of sleep training a try until we were settled in our new home. Too many new environmental factors to deal with, including thirty hours of travel.

Then jet lag happened. I really think this is what set up Muffin to be a sleeper. She was still sleeping on top of me in bed, but she was sleeping for five or six hours straight. Her crib arrived a few days after we did and she seemed too tired to care that she was sleeping in it instead of on top of me, at least during the night. Most nights she was going solid from about eleven until nearly seven the next morning. We still had to feed and cuddle her to sleep. She still wanted no part of crib napping during the day. But those hours at night gave us hope.

By the time Muffin was five months old, we had settled into our permanent house. She had her own room and she was actually sleeping in it at night. She hated napping during the day but I could usually coax her into a snooze if I let her sleep on top of me. Every day was the same pattern though: She'd feed for a bit, doze off, I'd burp her, put her in the crib, and she'd wake up screaming within minutes. We would do this over and over again until we were both exhausted and fell asleep together on the couch, around about the time Frasier reruns would come on and I couldn't risk reaching for the remote to change the channel without waking her. She seemed to prefer being on her stomach and being extremely warm, which all the baby books cautioned against... but it was hard to put her on her back in a cold room knowing she'd wake up in a few minutes. At least when she was on top of me I could see that she was sleeping fine.

Eventually I started to see a pattern to her sleeping habits and I was so happy. So many people had asked me about her schedule that I was beginning to feel inferior, like I was raising some sort of wild, spoiled, untamed monster child. I wasn't happy that I was finally satisfying the schedulers, though. I was happy that Muffin's schedule finally allowed me some freedom. I could say "yes" to eleven o'clock coffee breaks with the other moms in the neighborhood. I had several solid hours where I could go grocery shopping with a happy kid instead of a cranky one. I could take a shower during her morning nap and look forward to a quiet lunch by myself once she was down for an afternoon nap. I felt like I was finally becoming myself again.

The last hurdle was getting her to fall asleep on her own. Because of the spitting up and burping, she'd gotten in the habit of being held until she fell asleep. She is a gassy baby, and as much as we wanted to try crying it out, that doesn't work when the reason she's crying is gas pain rather than something psychological. Most nights, the screaming would be relieved after we picked her up and she burped; she'd fall right to sleep. I really feel like we had no choice but to wait for her digestive system to develop enough to cause her less pain after those bedtime feedings.

Mike does bedtime with Muffin and the nightly routine of soothing her to sleep was really wearing on him. While he was out of town a couple weeks ago I decided to see if Muffin was ready to fall asleep on her own. We had a couple afternoons of me crying on my bed while Muffin cried in hers, but I knew she was crying from being over tired (we both were), not from needing to be burped, so I'd give her five minutes, then ten, then fifteen, then thirty. By the time Mike came home, we had a successful sleeper. She celebrated ten months old this week, along with a full week of falling asleep on her own for both naps and bedtime.

Not every sleepy time is easy. She learned to sit up on her own this week, so she practices that for several minutes by herself before realizing we're not there to cheer her on. Sometimes she gets bored and falls asleep, other times she cries for us. We play it by ear if we're going to go in and soothe her more or let her fuss for another few minutes to see what happens. She often wakes up an hour or two after going to bed at night, but knowing that all she needs is a good burp, it's easy to go in and help her with that.

We know we are lucky right now compared to other babies. And we know that some are better sleepers earlier on than Muffin. I'm going to take the sleep while I can get it and not worry about other babies though. Following Muffin's lead is what worked for us.

The Best Coffee in the World

Here's a little note to let you know that the best coffee in the world, Peet's Burundi, is back for a limited time, online only. I'm not just saying it's the best because we lived there and I'm happy when Burundi has great economic opportunities. This really is great-tasting coffee.






Image from Peets.com. I was not compensated in any way for this post. Product was purchased by me for personal consumption.

Gestational Diabetes

I hate the term, but by some of the calculations, scales, charts, and guidelines used by some doctors, I have it. In actuality, my blood sugar seems to be too high sometimes and too low sometimes, and those "too high" times happened when I was having my one-hour and then my three-hour glucose test. And the "too low" instances were a little troubling as well. My doctors are being extremely conservative and cautious because I'm living in a poor country in Central Africa.

I've been doing a lot of research on gestational diabetes. It seems that some people just plain don't believe in it, or think that there really are not harmful side effects. Even if the only side effect is a large baby at birth, I'd like to avoid that. I'm small.

But the vast majority of publications agree that you shouldn't take any risks with it. And I'm all for erring on the side of exercise and better nutrition. It's just a huge pain. My doctor had me consult with a nutritionist. Sugar is out, except for fresh fruit and some milk and yogurt. Healthy fats are in. I covered most of my dietary issues earlier this week at What I Eat. I need to eat more, but the selection of foods I should eat and can eat keeps getting narrower.

While the food is challenging, the harder part is the exercise. I'm supposed to be walking for fifteen minutes after each meal. My morning walk is wonderful; it's still cool and pleasant outside. I hate doing it some days, but it's still preferable to my lunchtime walk, either in the hot sun or pacing back and forth in my small, but air-conditioned, office. And my post-dinner walk is a drag because the only place I can safely do it is by doing laps on our terrace. Plus I'm pretty tired by then and the thought of pulling on my sneakers one more time really gets me down.

Then there's the glucose monitoring. I've been doing it four times a day for the last two weeks, and I have another week of doing it that often before I've proved that I can keep my levels even. Then I can go down to twice a day. I don't hate needles; I'm not squeamish about blood. I just hate doing it, especially so many times a day. (I have an upcoming post on how difficult it's been to secure a good glucose monitor here. I was afraid I'd get sent back to the States early because of it.)

All this exercise and healthy eating is supposed to make me feel better, but it's not. To combat fatigue and mood swings, all the books and all the doctors recommend exercise and healthy eating. Logically I know I'm fine because my sugar levels are okay now. I also know in the rational part of my brain that it's all good for the baby. But instead of having more energy and a positive mental attitude, I'm even more drained and prone to mood swings than I was before I started this regime. And that's extremely frustrating.

I know that in the grand scheme of things, these are all small sacrifices to make for the health of the baby. (I've been gluten-free for several years now; I know all about making sacrifices for health, and now I have another person's health involved as well.) I just wish I could get to the point where that logical knowledge made the daily decisions and activities a little bit easier instead of a huge chore.

"I wouldn't want to be pregnant in this heat."

That's what the regional American doctor told me on Monday at my check up. Thanks, Doc. He's traveling through, so I did my monthly check up with him instead of the local nurse. He's leaving his post soon and he wanted to see the pregnancy for himself. (While he's seen me before in person, that was pre-pregnancy. He's been handling my pregnancy via email.) His replacement will be just one more member of my pregnancy team, spanning several countries and two continents. (All for one of the safest, healthiest, most boring pregnancies ever, aside from where it's happening.)

When the doctor asked how things were going, if I was having any problems, the only thing I could find to complain about was the heat and that's when he agreed that it must be rough. I generally run cold and I've been finding the equatorial climate quite pleasant actually, until just a few weeks ago. Yeah, I have some achiness and tiredness sometimes, but it really has been the heat that knocks me down and makes me useless. I try to be grateful that I work in an office with air conditioning, but that air conditioning really only works about twenty percent of the time. The electricity fluctuates so much that the air conditioner is always the first thing to die when the flow weakens. I strip down to as few clothes as appropriate for an office, try to drink as much room-temperature water as I can, try to catch any sort of breeze, and wish I knew a magic spell to get the air conditioner running again. As soon as I get home at night I lock myself in the bedroom with the air conditioner on a high as possible without blowing a fuse at the house.

And this air conditioner obsession is all new for me. I usually can't stand them and prefer windows open with fans. But fans aren't cutting it right now.

Today was a surprisingly, blessedly, rare sunless day. It rained for several hours and stayed cloudy all day. Now I have all the windows open, letting the cool breeze blow through the house. I wish I could bottle this cool air for tomorrow, because it's not going to last for long.

Why I'm Taking My Malaria Pill

I live in a tropical area where malaria is an epidemic. For most Westerners who don't take any sort of malaria prophylactic, the question is when, not if, will malaria strike you. My husband and I both started taking the weekly mefloquine pill before we arrived here in August 2008. For the first couple doses, Mike had the psychedelic dreams and I had anxiety and insomnia (but we were preparing for a move to Africa; I get anxiety and insomnia every time we move anyway) but after a couple weeks the side effects cleared up, we've taken our pills every Sunday, and neither of us have contracted malaria.

When I became pregnant here, one of the first questions my American doctor asked me was how I felt about continuing with the mefloquine. He and I discussed it and my husband and I discussed it. Mefloquine is the only malaria prophylactic that is approved safe for pregnant women. However, my doctor said that with mefloquine there's a slight chance of miscarriage in the first trimester. The effects of contracting malaria while pregnant can be more severe than normal for the mother and can result in miscarriage at any point during the pregnancy. Living where I do, where malaria is so easily contracted and even with all the precautions I take to avoid getting bites, I decided the risk from the mefloquine was less than the risk of malaria. My doctor, Mike, and other health practitioners I spoke to who know this region agreed. Plus, I was already seven weeks pregnant by the time I found out and had been taking the pill all along with no problems.

I'm generally against taking drugs unless absolutely necessary and just about everything else about this pregnancy has been more organic. I haven't even taken a Tylenol. But sticking with the mefloquine has been the right thing to do for me and my family.