Eric and I began our cloth diapering experiment yesterday, having purchased an "infant sampler pack" from Stephanie, my acquaintance who has recently started a home-based business selling cloth diapering supplies. I'd say our first day went OK; we had a leak in the morning, but I think the medium diaper cover I bought is a little big for him around the thighs; weight-wise, he is just on the line between the small and medium, and I didn't want to waste money on a small that he would outgrow in no time at all. The medium didn't leak when I used it again on him later, though, so maybe I was just a feeb putting it on the first time. And this morning we had a major leak with a disposable, so clearly no conclusions can be drawn yet.
I now have an assortment of cloth diapers, including plain diaper-service-style "prefolds," which are flat, square diapers with 4 to 8 quilted layers of fabric. "Prefold" can seem like a misnomer, since you have to fold these diapers to put them on the baby, but they are called "prefolds" in contrast to diapers like the ones we use for burp clothes, which are just huge squares of cotton fabric and which would have to be folded about forty times to use them as a diaper.
I also have two types of "fitted" diapers, which are cloth diapers shaped like disposables. I have the super-fancy terry one I bought back when I was still pregnant, and a less-fancy one (the edges are just serged, for instance) that came in the sample pack. And I have three diaper covers, the one that came in my sample pack, the extra-fancy one that came with the extra-fancy diaper, and something called a "Fuzzi Buns," which is one layer of polar fleece and one layer of waterproof fabric which form a pocket into which you put a folded pre-fold diaper. The idea is that the fleece "wicks" moisture through to the pre-fold and then dries, so you can leave it on the baby longer. I tried it yesterday and found it just enormously bulky--all those layers about double Eric's circumference. Stephanie says she has just a couple of them, which she uses when she is going out to places where she thinks it will be tricky to change the baby.
Right now my diapers are in the washer, and as soon as they're out I'll start putting them on him again. The experiment continues. If I decide to dive into cloth diapering big time, it will be hard to decide what to buy. The pre-folds are cheap cheap cheap; you can get them for only a dollar or two each. If they work well, they would be the way to go. But if I decide I want fitted diapers, it will be hard to decide. Stephanie's are less expensive than the fancy one, but come in sizes and so I would have to buy several sets over the life of Eric's time in diapers. The fancy one is quite pricy but adjustable up to 35 pounds, so one set would presumably see us through to toilet training, though they are a little bulky on him now (bulky but well-fitting; they don't leak).
I suspect there is some optimal mix of pre-fold and fitted that I will have to try to achieve. But then there is the question of how many to buy, which depends on how often I plan to do laundry. You need a lot more diapers if you're only going to launder once a week; my inclination would be to buy fewer and launder more often, which would also help keep diaper-pail stinkiness down. But I wonder if the short-term cost of buying more diapers would be offset by the long-term savings in laundry, as I am sure it is a more efficient use of water and electricity to do larger loads.
An investment in cloth diapers is yet another thing that makes me want to have a second baby--I find myself thinking all the time about how much we have spent on various pieces of baby equipment that Eric will use for only a brief time and which will be practically as good as new when he is done with them, and I think, "To really get our money's worth, we need to have another baby we can use this stuff on, too." But I suppose that's false economy.
I'm not sure how David feels about cloth diapering, but I figure it's not all-or-nothing. If David doesn't like cloth diapering, he can use disposables when he's responsible for the baby. No problem. He already uses disposable wipes for poopy diaper cleanup, although I use the cloth wipes even for that. We just each have our own way.
I haven't been writing much the last couple of weeks because I've been tired, so tired that I began to wonder whether I was getting a little depressed. But it seems to have lifted this week. The end of sleep deprivation (with Eric consistently sleeping 9-10 hours at night) has cleared the way, though, for me to become aware of how, as my doctor put it, "de-conditioned" I am from the pregnancy. Physically I'm pretty depleted. Supposedly it will take me at least a year to make up my nutritional deficit (whatever that means) from extended nausea and vomiting, and I have no idea how long it will take to get my aerobic fitness back. David and I are walking every day, and I am trying to eat well with moderate success, but I think it will be slow going.
I am having some other long-term effects of the pregnancy, too. One is that I have never stopped retaining fluid in my feet, legs, and face. I'm going to talk to my doctor about that today. The other is that my normal appetite has not returned. I no longer seem to experience hunger sensations in the same way I used to, and food still tastes different than I remember it tasting. I think this must be the effect of being so sick so long, but it might also be the steroids, which I will finally be done with in another two weeks. (The water-retention may be steroid-related, too, so perhaps things will improve when I am off the prednisone.) My last platelet count was 129,000, pretty good though not quite in the normal range, so perhaps my thromobocytopenia was gestational after all.
One day on a bulletin board, a woman was complaining about night feedings, and moms of older babies said, "Try not to wish them away; hard as it is to believe, you will miss them when they're gone." And I do. I miss sitting in the dark living room feeding Eric at 3 a.m., with the whole house sleeping around us. I especially miss feeding him at 5:30 a.m. in the dining room, with the windows open, and the sky lightening and birds beginning to sing. I miss sitting there holding him long after he's gone back to sleep, basking in the reality of the baby I dreamed of for so long.
Which is not to say I want them back.
Eric has begun getting into the big tub with me. The first time, he was a little taken aback at first, looking all around trying to figure out what was going on. But after about a minute of that, he gave out with a big grin, and from then on it was the Frog Baby Kick-and-Wiggle Hootenanny. He loves to float freely, with me holding his head and shoulders, and last time he was in with me, I held him so he was "standing" in water up to his chest, and he thought that was just fine. He even thought it was fine when he suddenly lurched and dived into the water face-first; he came up grinning (though I caught him quickly enough that his face only went in up to his mouth; his nose didn't go in). Being in the tub with Eric is the most fun imaginable; I keep telling David and Scott they have to try it even if they don't feel like taking a bath.
Poor Scott! He is only just now able to touch the baby again, having suffered from shingles the last couple of weeks. The less said about the pain Scott has suffered, the better--I would hate to remind him of it if the memory has started to fade. To give you an idea, Scott said the other evening that if he were to learn that people commit suicide from the pain of shingles, it would not surprise him a bit. And then he went on-line to do some research, and it turns out, people do. I wish for each of you that you never get shingles. It has been very sad to see Scott gazing longingly at Eric from across the room, unable to hold him (Eric could have gotten chicken pox from him--shingles are a post-chicken pox phenomenon). He is in Arkansas now, visiting his grandmother for the weekend, and when he gets back he will be able to hold Eric again. I believe he is looking forward to it.
It is now 2:40 p.m. and Eric and I are just back from the doctor, where I had a repeat pap smear (nothing to worry about--just a bad swab last time) and Dr. Takyi confirmed that my various physical discomforts are likely a result of the steroids or, in the case of the fatigue, of going off the steroids and my body chemistry taking a little time to catch up (my adrenal gland has been on vacation and needs to be coaxed into getting back to work). "Your moon face will disappear when you are done with the prednisone," he said. Let us hope so.
Did I mention I think I'm experiencing post-partum hair loss? I noticed earlier this week that I am having to clean out my comb every day...very sad. Like I have hair to spare. It's supposed to be temporary, but I'll let you know if I need contributions to the Su Penn Wig & Fancy Hat Fund.
An additional datum for decision-making, now that I have done my laundry: the fancy diaper dries faster than the pre-folds or fitted diapers I got from Stephanie. FWIW.
Last night, David pressed me to check my e-mail, and when I did I discovered that he had e-mailed me the link to a search engine he made for the LouellaMail website. I did a search, and ended up reading a bunch of issues. Then today, in my spare time, I re-read the whole set. You know, they are very good. But reading them made me a little sad, I having not done any creative writing in a long time. There were also bits in there--of humor, or imagery--that I can hardly believe came out of my head. I am impressed with my own cleverness and creativity. Somehow I doubt I could do it now. I don't know. But if you haven't read Louella in awhile, visit the website.
I had to laugh at myself: do you remember recently I talked about this Joni Mitchell song based on a poem, but I wasn't sure who the poet was, etc.? Well, in one episode Ed recites that poem to Louella and she recognizes it as Yeats. What did I know then that I don't know now?
Plenty of typos in the issues. But otherwise pretty darn good.
I'm thinking of doing a Louella reunion issue. I've been having fun today thinking of what the characters must be up to. Ed and Louella are probably married by now; Louella is either pregnant or home with a baby (or in the middle of fertility treatments, poor thing...). David says I can't kill off Harriet's grandmother, who is in her 80s by now. Are Michael and Sam still together? Probably...but at least one of them has had an affair, I'm pretty sure. David wondered if Harriet was still printing for a living; I think not. I think maybe she's working with Nona at her locksmithing business. Maybe something really bad has happened to somebody.
I feel like I have taken the day off. I was just thinking, "Except for Eric's laundry, and the diapers, and the kitchen laundry, and the dishes, and thawing the chicken for dinner, and going to the doctor, and taking Scott to the airport, and returning the videos, and depositing a check, I haven't done a thing today." I guess I have a whole new idea of "day off," though I have had a mellow day, reading Louella, finishing Pride and Prejudice (they get married at the end; hope I haven't given anything away), writing an e-mail.
I've been doing really well at cooking at home. David's and my commitment not to spend money we don't have is keeping us out of restaurants, but two other things are helping. No, three. One is that the kitchen is always clean now. When I wasn't so good about that, cooking often felt impossible because there wasn't space on the counters, or the pots I needed were dirty, or I feared contamination. Another is that David and Scott told me they don't mind eating the same things every week. I used to feel like, "I can't make chicken, we just had chicken. I can't make burgers, we just had burgers. I can't make spaghetti, we just had spaghetti." But now I know it's OK, which is helpful because I know how to cook only about six things. Carrie told me the other night that she thinks her grandmother served the same seven dinners on the same nights of every week for years. And I thought, I bet that's one way homemakers managed: getting into such a routine that they knew exactly what they were doing every day--and even exactly what to buy at the store every week. But perhaps most important, I have figured out that to successfully cook at home most nights requires that at least some of the time I cook even if I don't feel like it.
That book I read on how to keep house said that one of the best ways to be successful at cooking at home was to have a repertoire of very easy dishes you could cook even on nights you didn't feel like cooking. That was a good tip. If only I had a repertoire.
Oh, speaking of that book: I was at my mother's, and helping myself to a bottle of water from her fridge, and noticed that her fridge shelves could use a wiping. I said, "You know, Mom, I read a book about how to keep house, and it said you should wipe down the inside of your fridge once a week, preferably right before you do your marketing so that it is as empty as it ever gets." My mom snorted and said something along the lines of "Yeah, right." And then she said, "Wait a minute...I used to do that. Every Friday morning I used to scrub my sink and stove, wipe out my oven, wipe down the inside of the refrigerator, and then go to the grocery store." She had this look on her face like, "What was I thinking?" But she was always a good housekeeper; I can remember moving knick-knacks to do the dusting when it was my chore, and you couldn't always see where the knick-knacks had been. Don't try that at my house, where there are few knick-knacks but plenty of dust.
Did I tell you that when I had lunch there with her and my dad, my mom served sandwiches, and she arranged slices of bread on one place, coldcuts and cheese on another, strawberries in a little bowl. I almost expected her to put a tablecloth down. I said, "Wow, Mom, if it were me I'd just toss the coldcuts on the table in their plastic bags." Mom said, "But it looks so much nicer this way." At least she didn't put the mustard and mayonnaise in bowls.
Did I tell you my parents bought me a printer? On one visit to their house, they were showing me their new color inkjet, and I admired it and said I was hoping to get a printer for my computer soon, as it gets tiresome trudging upstairs for my printouts (we're all networked to the laser printer in David's office). Next thing I knew, they had bought me one just like theirs. I love having a printer in my office again, but I do wish I had specified that I was in the market for a multi-function printer/fax/copier combo. Oh, well. I will not look a gift horse in the mouth. They've been giving me so much stuff that I have gotten shy about mentioning anything I might want or need; last time I was there, I kicked back in my mom's recliner and said, "This is so comfortable. I wish I had a chair like this at home," and then I thought, "Doh! What if I sound like I'm hinting?" If I am going to hint, the printer experience suggests I had better be specific: "I wish I had a La-Z-Boy Model 2887K in Ocean Blue." But perhaps that would be a bit too obvious.
Posted by Su Penn at August 31, 2003 05:28 PM | TrackBack