Cause You Love My Boobs And I Love You

So, EW just wrote about a sweet encounter with her boobie sucker, and it made me realize that I haven't talked about breastfeeding in like a way too long time. I know, you are sitting at the edge of your seats in anticipation cause BFing blog posts rock your world too.



Well, I have been nursing Bug for one month short of a year and a half. We are down to about one or two feedings during the day and about 5 million at night. That's right, I am day-weaning and night nursing cause night-weaning is for wimps and the lack of sleep is giving me a glossy glow and doe eyes. Truth be told, I did this ass backwards cause I am an idiot breast-feeder and I lack the ability to let my kid cry at night. Yeah, I am that kind of parent. I call myself the "Accidental AP Parent" because I really had no parenting plan before Bug was born other than playing it by ear and rolling with the punches. I didn't know much about the whole--baby-wearing, nursing until college, letting the kid take over cal-king bed--type of parenting until I had Bug. But, as it turns out, that is what I am. And that is what I am because that is what Bug needed (needs) and I felt (feel) like my job is to respond to those needs. I baby wore because Bug had reflux and needed to be upright to be comfortable. I co-slept because she woke up constantly throughout the night and I needed (need) some damn sleep. I continue to nurse because it is her comfort and I can't see a real reason in her best interest to take it away from her. That said, breastfeeding is not nearly as simple as I thought it would be. I remember thinking all I needed was my boobs. Here is list of a few things that I realize I needed:



1. Nursing Bras. But not the expensive ones. The $50 dollar one I bought at the trendy BFing store in SM. Um yeah, not so much. The ones I bought in desperation, right after my milk came in and I was so engorged I was asking random strangers to suck on my boobs just to get a little relief, well those were somewhat better but didn't hold up in the wash and seriously people, when you are BFing every hour and half around the clock you really do not have time or the will to hand wash your stinky milk stained bras. Pulease. Which bras worked (work) the best? The $15 dollar ones I bought at Target. Without a doubt, the best.



2. The Medela Breastpump. If you are planning to BF your kiddo, you need to get one of these BEFORE your milk comes in and learn how to use it. Again, this was something I bought after my milk came in A) cause I had major oversupply issues and needed to pump to control my supply. Inversely, if you have low supply you need to pump to build up your supply or so I have been told. B) because I thought I'd be going back to work and needed to start pumping a supply of milk. I have to admit, I was actually afraid to use it at first and it took me a couple weeks of it sitting on display on my dining room table before I worked up the nerve to put my boob into the milk station. C) Cause how many other times in your life will you be able to buy such a ridiculous item and actually use it? The breast pump is all kinds of awesomeness and weirdness.


3. Zoloft. Well, not so much for the breastfeeding but for my sanity. My postpartum anxiety sucked and Zoloft did the trick to get things back on track. Not that my days are now picking wildflowers in a meadow, chasing rainbows and unicorns, but I am able to cope with the chaos. I stopped taking the meds several months ago but I highly recommend getting a little medicinal help if you need it.



4. A Postpartum Doula. OK, I sooo did not have this. I did have my mom's help. And she WAS a tremendous help. But even though I didn't have to pay her in cash, that kind of help didn't come for cheap. I PAID FOR IT WITH MY SOUL!!!!!! Seriously, next time ( if there is a next time) I'll hire a Doula. NOT KIDDING!

****There are lots of other obvious things. I got a boppy hand-me-down from a friend. And these pillows come in handy for the first couple of months. I had a really cute nursing cover-up thingy. I used it a bit but Bug hated being covered while nursing so it didn't get much use. Nursing tops are not too necessary and I stuck with t-shirts and cardigans as my nursing drobe but again, when else can you justify buying something as fanciful as easy access tops which allow you too whip out your boob through a nice little hole in the shirt? They are kind of hilarious.****

Yup, Another Sleep (Or Lack Thereof) Post

I am posting my comment to Clueless but Hopeful Mama's Post about the sleep differences between her kids and about what a difficult aspect something as seemingly simple as sleep is in the world that is motherhood because as you know if you read my blog, it is a subject that is nearer and dearer to my heart than even poop, pee, spit-up, or snot. And also because my comment was so damn long (sorry CBHM) that I figure I might as well just use it as a post cause I am lazy like that...

I think you should do whatever works for your family. What bugs me is that people think because my baby doesn't sleep well by herself, that I am doing something wrong rather than considering that every kid is different. I have tried EVERYTHING and CIO, especially the kind where you check in, makes my daughter so upset that she stops breathing and is in a state of panic and when I finally get her to sleep she cries ALL NIGHT in her sleep. It is horrible. I wish I could put her down and she would cry for a while and go to sleep but she just does not do that. I know it shouldn't bother me what other people think, but it does.

I've also tried the No Cry Sleep Solution which does the exact opposite for us than it is supposed to do. I think time will be our tincture in this case. And that sucks but it is just how it is.

I really do think that all kids are different when it comes to sleep. Which makes sense because all adults I know are different too. I had a boss who could sit under her desk and take a nap and another who needed ambien every night to sleep. My husband needs to listen to talk radio to fall asleep but then sleeps like a dead horse but I can fall asleep on a dime yet wake up easliy throughout the night. Why should babies be any different?

Potty Time

For the last few weeks Bug has been doing this squat move after taking her evening bath.  Sometimes, she'll squat and pee on the floor.  So today I bought her a potty.  I set it up in the bathroom and told her that it was for pee-pee.  She seemed VERY excited about it and kept climbing on and off of it exclaiming, "PEE PEE".  After her bath she ran over to it, sat down, and peed.  Clearly proud of herself we clapped together, "YAY, PEE PEE".  It was so cute.  I don't think we are exactly at potty training yet because she is only two days shy of 15 months old but I guess she is moving in that direction and by the looks of it will be potty trained long before she is weaned.

My Daughter, Rock Thrower

If rock throwing was an Olympic sport, Nola would win the Gold.


She would.

She's a champion.

What Happened to Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness?

There is no pretty or poetic way to put this. Our finances suck. We are teetering on the edge of a financial abyss and we are not sure where the bottom is. And it SUCKS. Is it my fault because I "chose" to stay home with Nola? And I put "choose" in parenthesis because it wasn't really a choice as much as a necessity and the right thing for all of us but most importantly, the right thing for Nola. The fact is, I don't think I am to blame or should be blamed or should feel guilty (even though guilt certainly creeps into my head and heart often) because I know I made the right decision to stay at home with my child. She is happy and healthy and thriving and I don't think she would be the same child if she was away from me twelve hours a day and often more than that. My job was so far away from home. I just couldn't be that far from her. To me, it would have been irresponsible and cruel.



But I can't help being angry. We were the couple that did all the right things. I worked a job that wasn't "me" but it was stable and provided over half our income. We invested wisely. Paid our monumental student loans on time. Paid off credit card debt. Waited to have kids. Where did it get us? If I have any regrets, it is wasting all that time doing "the right things" when it didn't matter anyway. I wasted so many years in a job that took a little of my soul every day and driving a commute that I am pretty certain took years off my life. And all for naught. It is so demoralizing.

That said, I don't think I would change anything. Our successes and failures, our decisions good and bad, led us to Nola.

Object Permanence Sucks

Nola has always been a little ahead of the curve, but the terrible two's at 10 months? Nola wants everything she sees and when/if she doesn't get it she has begun screaming following by whining to full on crying approaching TANTRUM status--falling to the ground, fists clenched, arms flailing.

And her memory is sharp. Distraction? Not for Nola. I had a Buddha statue atop my dresser. He is made of wood, heavy and holding a bowl with a sharp non baby friendly edge. When she noticed it a couple months ago, she began her "eh eh" hand waving in its direction. Buddha? You want Buddha? And I brought it down for her and showed her how to rub his wonderfully fat belly though she preferred to rub his head. From then on, it was "Ba Ba" when she saw him. Then she hit her head on his hard wooden head while trying to give him a kiss and got an wicked bruise on her forehead so it was bye bye Buddha. But she still knows that he is supposed to be there perched atop my dresser.

Yup, object permanence sucks. The Wet Ones wrapper I left on the table? She wants it. My cup of coffee? She wants it. The junk mail? She wants it. And won't forget about it. This has left me in a parenting quandary between safety and satisfaction. If I am watching would it be so bad for her to play around with the nursing pads? I mean, I know it says choking hazard and YOUR CHILD WILL DIE IF SHE TOUCHES THIS BOX right there on the package. But seriously, I AM RIGHT THERE WITH HER. And it satisfies her for the moment and so what? Am I screwing myself? Probably.




By the way, I am in the market for a more baby-friendly Buddha. Any thoughts?

When to Wean

If it were up to me, I'd choose 12 months. That's right. Nola would blow out her one year old birthday candle, eat a piece of gooey happiness from her ladybug birthday cake, and then swig down her first glass of whole organic milk and decide boobs were for babies--and you know how Nola hates being a baby.

But breastfeeding isn't just about food. It is a relationship and like any other it has its ups and downs. Nola and I started our breastfeeding relationship in the delivery room when she latched on like a pro and nursed until she fell asleep. It was a blissful beginning followed by a lot of drama. There was the thrush misdiagnosis which caused a full month of utter hell. There was also my oversupply issues followed by suspected food allergies which led me to eating a diet free of all eight common allergic foods.

And I am ready to eat cheese again. I had a dream a few nights ago that I was using a huge hunk of cheddar cheese as an edible utensil, dipping it into various food items and scarfing it down. I know, in the light of day this is vomit inducing but in the dream (and for a few seconds after I woke up) it was pure dairy heaven.

But breastfeeding is also about comfort and love and connection. It is also the easiest baby calmer tool given to mothers. Baby bumped her head? Whip out the boob. Baby not feeling good? Whip out the boob. Baby need to sleep? Yup, that's right, whip out the boob. Would I even know how to parent without breastfeeding? Could I comfort her in other ways? Is she ready for that? This is a relationship and two people are involved so even though I am beyond ready to have my body back to myself, I don't know when Nola will be.

In Awe

A few weeks ago I developed the photos from one of the two cameras we have. Over 400 photos of Nola. My beautiful baby girl. The photos of her just born. The one my mom snapped of her that she wasn't supposed to. I am so glad she did. Just born. Brand new. And yet she was already there. Why should I be surprised by her activity level? By the fact that she never stops moving? She would shift inside my belly all day long. My belly noticeably taking on strange shapes and curves throughout the day. She was having fun. She was swimming and playing and moving at will. Her inability to move after birth surprised and frustrated her. Nursing was her only comfort in this world. She still LOVES to nurse. And she is now WALKING. My not even ten month old baby is walking. I am so happy for her. She has wanted to walk since she was born and now her muscles are finally capable of carrying her through this world. I am so happy and so sad. And so proud. And most of all, humbled by the experience of motherhood. By the experience of being Nola's mother.

Closer to a Year Than Just Born

Nola is eight months old tomorrow. She is constant motion. I thought her goal was to walk. I am wrong. Her goal is to run. She is a giggling, screaming, crawling, babbling, standing, peek-a-boo playing ball of energy. She is so busy. She is consumed with life. She is everything bright and beautiful. She is my favorite person. My brother-in-law hypothesized that as soon as she learns to run she'll realize that what she really wants to do is fly. I think he may be right.

Crawling is for Babies

Nola has never really liked being a baby. She was squirmy from the moment she was born. She is also not content with "baby steps" in her development. Rolling over? No big deal. Sitting up? Whatever. Crawling? Not when I can stand. She desperately wants to walk. It consumes her all day. And she is sooo frustrated. I want her to walk so badly because I know it will make her happy. But I can't tell you how many times throughout the day I wish she would just be content to let me hold her on my lap and snuggle.

The Sleepless Wonder

My nickname for Nola is sleepless wonder. Actually, that is not totally accurate because she does sleep. She naps. However, the naps are in her swing. She is almost seven months and I know I am not going to be able to let her do that much longer. She does sleep at night but wakes up every two hours for a little boob then right back to sleep. So in reality, I am the sleepless wonder. I haven't sleep for more than two hours straight since she was about two months old. When she was a newborn she slept longer but then got into the habit of using the boob at her little awakenings to go back to sleep. I really don't know how to break the habit. I just keep hoping that one day she'll sleep a little longer between awakenings. I know this is wishful thinking. I've tried all advice aside from CIO but Nola has a mind of her own and is going to do things her way. I like this about her but damn I need some sleep.

Perfection

absent

It has been so long since I have blogged. This is primarily because I have a very active almost six month old who never sleeps. It is also because so much is going on I don't know where to begin.

Here is a little tidbit though---Nola Jane is getting her first tooth!

Also, I quit my job.

Joy

I Hate Being a Baby Face

Hope

Hope. I am stuck in the house trying to clear myself and my baby of thrush. From what I've read, this could be a long road. Sometimes I feel so down I feel hopeless. I can't believe that this is what my baby's first months of life are like. This isn't how it is supposed to be. But every now and then throughout the day, I remember that we just elected Obama, and maybe I am crazy but it gives me hope that things can change.

The Election of Our Lifetime

Thrush

I am so depressed over the thrush. As if the overactive letdown wasn't enough for this poor little baby to deal with, now I have given her thrush! I feel like a shit. She is uncomfortable all the time. And I think our doctors have given us an aggressive enough treatment. So now I have to call my doctor again and ask her to give us what we need. This is so frustrating.

Part Two Summary

The next part of the labor story is more difficult to write. Partly because I get a bit hazy on the details because the last five minutes or so are really all that matter in the end and partly because much of it was painful and scary. It involves having to wait in a tiny triage room for three hours until a labor and delivery room opened up. Having insane back labor, throwing up, and not getting the epidural I requested for an hour and half. Having the epidural wear off when I was at eight centimeters, having to wait an hour to get some relief and then finding out the machine delivering the meds to me was off! Then pushing for over three hours. Then there is also a side story about how I got wickedly constipated--actually impacted and had to go to the emergency room the evening after we went home from the hospital. At about the same time my milk came in and I was engorged I had a nurse (my hero) pulling shit out of my ass which was more acutely painful than the labor itself.

OH Lord

We have thrush. Fuck!