Friday, August 31, 2012
Pick Me Up When I'm Down
This always makes me smile when I'm down. And by smile I mean pee my pants.
Introducing Basement Bobby
There is a man living in our basement. A 350 lb man in his early 40's sleeps during the day and only comes out at night to fill up his cup with ice and sometimes rummages through food. I find my ice cream consumed, cookies diminished in number, and banana bread picked over. He has a blender in his bathroom and an espresso machine in his room. His outfit of choice is a dashiki and a pair of boxers. He usually tucks his shirt into his boxers. His hobbies consist of bike riding, sewing, stalking women on jdate even though he has no jewish lineage, playing World of Warcraft, and creating computer applications. He has the maturity, sense of humor, common sense, and logic of a 13-year-old. An exceedingly annoying 13-year-old.
This man is my brother. Almost 20 years older than me, he's been more of a parent in my life than a sibling. I share a connection with my brother that I do not share with anyone else. My brother (since he's pretty socially awkward once he lets his guard down) will start a thought mid sentence, and I will usually know what he's talking about. I don't know if this is a good thing.
For all his idiosyncrasies, my brother is one of my biggest helpers with my son. Something about babies turns this man into a giant teddy bear. He can sooth Jackson even when I can't (usually. I was gone for two hours today and apparently Jackson did nothing but cry. I'm not going to lie, it was kind of an ego boost.) He spends time working with Jackson helping stimulate his mental and physical development, and constantly tends to his needs. I'll never forget the night my husband woke me up and said, "Jackson's crying, but it's not on the baby monitor." I flew into the other room panicking that my little man had been crying for God only knows how long and I had just been snoozing away. I opened the door to see my brother swaying with a whimpering baby, saying, "It's okay little buddy! Your Uncle's here."
So the crazy, pants-less, large man that haunts my house, eats my food, and is usually tap dancing on my last nerve proved to be the most precious asset in my life, especially my life as a mother.
This man is my brother. Almost 20 years older than me, he's been more of a parent in my life than a sibling. I share a connection with my brother that I do not share with anyone else. My brother (since he's pretty socially awkward once he lets his guard down) will start a thought mid sentence, and I will usually know what he's talking about. I don't know if this is a good thing.
For all his idiosyncrasies, my brother is one of my biggest helpers with my son. Something about babies turns this man into a giant teddy bear. He can sooth Jackson even when I can't (usually. I was gone for two hours today and apparently Jackson did nothing but cry. I'm not going to lie, it was kind of an ego boost.) He spends time working with Jackson helping stimulate his mental and physical development, and constantly tends to his needs. I'll never forget the night my husband woke me up and said, "Jackson's crying, but it's not on the baby monitor." I flew into the other room panicking that my little man had been crying for God only knows how long and I had just been snoozing away. I opened the door to see my brother swaying with a whimpering baby, saying, "It's okay little buddy! Your Uncle's here."
So the crazy, pants-less, large man that haunts my house, eats my food, and is usually tap dancing on my last nerve proved to be the most precious asset in my life, especially my life as a mother.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Soy Free for Me!
So since my son has food allergies and my all encompassing refusal to spend extra money on formula when I am producing food for free has taken over, my diet has to be soy free. Which is difficult because soy is in everything. Eating out is limited if not out of the question and usually exhausting. Most things I have to make from scratch or do without. Though there is debate whether soybean oil is considered an allergen, I don't want to risk it when my child poops blood as a result. So here are a compilation of helpful resources I have compiled:
This website has soy free chocolate! I haven't tried it because I just stumbled upon it, but I will be testing and updating!
http://www.soyfreesales.com/
This is the recipe I use for mayonnaise. Now this would be filed under an epic Pinterest failure, but I figured out I've been adding too much lemon, which stops it from thickening. I plan to make another batch with ever so wee amounts of lemon and report back.
http://www.spain-in-iowa.com/2012/01/how-to-make-homemade-mayonnaise-with-4-simple-ingredients/
This is a breakfast casserole recipe I found. I use it in place of granola bars and it is delicious! I leave out the chocolate chips, but now that I found soy free chocolate, we may be in business!
http://alwaysamrsforeverakidd.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html
Since instant oatmeal has soy in it, it's pretty exciting to find a way to have oatmeal that's not boring! It is, however, far from instant. I usually make a big batch and eat it throughout the week.
This website has soy free chocolate! I haven't tried it because I just stumbled upon it, but I will be testing and updating!http://www.soyfreesales.com/
This is the recipe I use for mayonnaise. Now this would be filed under an epic Pinterest failure, but I figured out I've been adding too much lemon, which stops it from thickening. I plan to make another batch with ever so wee amounts of lemon and report back.
http://www.spain-in-iowa.com/2012/01/how-to-make-homemade-mayonnaise-with-4-simple-ingredients/This is a breakfast casserole recipe I found. I use it in place of granola bars and it is delicious! I leave out the chocolate chips, but now that I found soy free chocolate, we may be in business!
http://alwaysamrsforeverakidd.blogspot.com/2012_01_01_archive.html
When You Figure Out Your Awesome Routine Doesn't Really Work
So it's pretty obvious every new parent's main struggle is getting a sleep schedule and routine down. Many parents I talk to still sleep with their babies. Some do it because they crave that closeness, which I TOTALLY understand. Ultimately, however, nighttime is my only adult time. Also I do not sleep well when he does sleep with me. When Jackson was about three weeks old and I was drowning in a sea of flip-flopped nights and sleep deprivation, one of my best friends who was also a mom introduced me to Moms on Call. It's an online seminar that you have to pay for, but she has already subscribed and just gave me her name and password. I love her and her enabling me to be so cheap.
Since her subscription was about to run out, I hopped online, watched the appropriate seminar for his age group, took notes, and forced my grumbling husband to watch it with me because "since I have to go back to work, I'm not going to be the only one getting up with this baby, so take notes buster!" (All part of my master plan for him to let me quit my job.) The first few nights were rough, as they cautioned, but within the three nights, my 4 week old was sleeping until 2 am! Then 3 am! Then 4 am! By 8 weeks I busted in his room at 7 am to make sure he was still breathing. I think that scarred him because he hasn't slept that late since.
This continues successfully for a while until it came time to unswaddle. My friend went hardcore and unswaddled and in three nights her son was back to normal. I can't commit to three sleepless nights, so I slowly broke the swaddle. It was a long process, but with the same overall results, I feel.
Then my world came crashing down. Today at the pediatrician's office, he asked me about our bedtime routine. When I told him his night feedings are at 9 pm, he gasped in horror. Some of the horror subsided when he realized I wasn't feeing him solids at 9 pm, but I didn't have the heart to tell him the feedings START at 9 pm, by 10 pm he gets his second wind, plays for about an hour, then nurses again until he falls asleep, I let him sleep on me for 30 minutes (because he has reflux, and I have to keep him elevated after eating), and then he's in the crib around midnight. I got the picture that my routine wasn't the best. But the subscription to Moms on Call had lapsed! What to do? My friend alerted me that she had copied and pasted the text portion of the program into Word and promptly forwarded it to me. Damn she's good. If I were a dude I would marry her.
So I sat down and read the program, and realized how truly behind our routine was. I should be putting him down awake, letting him soothe himself to sleep, and he should be in bed by 9:30 according to this life-saving program. On top of that, after I close the door at 9:30, I'm not to reopen it until 7:30 am. Um....huh? Well, I have a lot of work to do.
This is the first night I'm loosely trying the program, although I'm starting full force tomorrow, because my husband will be off for three days and he can relieve me in the mornings to recoup some sleep. I put down my little nugget albeit at 10:30, closed the door, walked across the house to my room, turned on the baby monitor, and listened to his little goat-like sobs. This sucks. I would give it ten minutes of full on crying, and get him back in here to nurse him to sleep one last time. Then a miracle happened. By ten minutes the force of his cries had softened to mumbles and he was falling asleep. Suddenly I feel empowered that I may be able to do this after all!
Update:Next Day-- Jackson slept through the night and slept all the way until 8:15, at what time I busted into his room to make sure he was alive. He was. And pretty irritated I had woken him up.
**Brief note: My husband and I have decided that we don't agree with the "close the door for twelve hours, and don't go back in" mentality. I have, however, invested in a video baby monitor that I'm pretty stoked about so I can check on him more often without him seeing me. I think if crying exceeds 30 minutes, I'll go to check on him, because, according to Mom's on Call, the phase of sleep where they're still asleep but can be fussing lasts around 30 minutes.
http://www.momsoncall.com/
Since her subscription was about to run out, I hopped online, watched the appropriate seminar for his age group, took notes, and forced my grumbling husband to watch it with me because "since I have to go back to work, I'm not going to be the only one getting up with this baby, so take notes buster!" (All part of my master plan for him to let me quit my job.) The first few nights were rough, as they cautioned, but within the three nights, my 4 week old was sleeping until 2 am! Then 3 am! Then 4 am! By 8 weeks I busted in his room at 7 am to make sure he was still breathing. I think that scarred him because he hasn't slept that late since.
This continues successfully for a while until it came time to unswaddle. My friend went hardcore and unswaddled and in three nights her son was back to normal. I can't commit to three sleepless nights, so I slowly broke the swaddle. It was a long process, but with the same overall results, I feel.
Then my world came crashing down. Today at the pediatrician's office, he asked me about our bedtime routine. When I told him his night feedings are at 9 pm, he gasped in horror. Some of the horror subsided when he realized I wasn't feeing him solids at 9 pm, but I didn't have the heart to tell him the feedings START at 9 pm, by 10 pm he gets his second wind, plays for about an hour, then nurses again until he falls asleep, I let him sleep on me for 30 minutes (because he has reflux, and I have to keep him elevated after eating), and then he's in the crib around midnight. I got the picture that my routine wasn't the best. But the subscription to Moms on Call had lapsed! What to do? My friend alerted me that she had copied and pasted the text portion of the program into Word and promptly forwarded it to me. Damn she's good. If I were a dude I would marry her.
So I sat down and read the program, and realized how truly behind our routine was. I should be putting him down awake, letting him soothe himself to sleep, and he should be in bed by 9:30 according to this life-saving program. On top of that, after I close the door at 9:30, I'm not to reopen it until 7:30 am. Um....huh? Well, I have a lot of work to do.
This is the first night I'm loosely trying the program, although I'm starting full force tomorrow, because my husband will be off for three days and he can relieve me in the mornings to recoup some sleep. I put down my little nugget albeit at 10:30, closed the door, walked across the house to my room, turned on the baby monitor, and listened to his little goat-like sobs. This sucks. I would give it ten minutes of full on crying, and get him back in here to nurse him to sleep one last time. Then a miracle happened. By ten minutes the force of his cries had softened to mumbles and he was falling asleep. Suddenly I feel empowered that I may be able to do this after all!
Update:Next Day-- Jackson slept through the night and slept all the way until 8:15, at what time I busted into his room to make sure he was alive. He was. And pretty irritated I had woken him up.
**Brief note: My husband and I have decided that we don't agree with the "close the door for twelve hours, and don't go back in" mentality. I have, however, invested in a video baby monitor that I'm pretty stoked about so I can check on him more often without him seeing me. I think if crying exceeds 30 minutes, I'll go to check on him, because, according to Mom's on Call, the phase of sleep where they're still asleep but can be fussing lasts around 30 minutes.
http://www.momsoncall.com/
Oh Pinterest, You Mocking Bitch You
I, like most other women in America, have been deceived. I have been convinced that I can cook, organize, create, and sew. Anyone who knows me would respectfully disagree. I can't even bake cookies without burning them. However, the food category on Pinterest beckons me. "Come to me," it says dreamily. "You can do this! It's so easy! The only reason you fail is because you never try. These step by step pictures make it fool proof! Balsamic mustard glazed pork tenderloin with roasted vegetables? You got this!" So I drink the Kool-Aid, pin the recipe, and go to the grocery store. Two hours later I'm crying and ordering pizza because "I SUCK AT EVERYTHING! I'LL NEVER BE A GOOD MOM! HE'S GOING TO GROW UP ON MCDONALD'S AND TACO BELL!!!!" while my husband is pouring me a glass of wine and bouncing my giggling baby boy. God I'm lucky he puts up with me.
Oh....you can make your own mayonnaise?? PIN IT!
Oh....you can make your own mayonnaise?? PIN IT!
Nursing Stikes Back
Let me preface this post by saying that breastfeeding is the best decision I've made as a mother. It's been a hard journey, but that has only made it more rewarding. There are times when everything is sailing along smoothly, and suddenly something happens, and you feel like all the growth and progress you've made has disappeared, and you're back to square one. Nursing strikes definitely make you want to give up.
Nursing strike are when, for one reason or another, your baby will not nurse even though he or she is starving. So you have a screaming miserable child at your breast latching and unlatching (easily the most painful part of nursing in the beginning), but not actually getting any food.
The first time I experienced this, I had no clue what to think. I just sat and rocked with Jackson until he got so exhausted from the labor of pitching a fit and starving, that he would latch and immediately doze off. It was miserable to see my little man like that. A few weeks later, the culprit leered its ugly head. At about 5:30 on a Friday, I unwrapped a soiled diaper to find blood. Holy crap. And of course this would be the timing. I called the pediatrician on call, and after a long weekend of close monitoring, sleepless nights, and an almost trip to the children's emergency center, we went to the doctor's office on Monday.
Food allergies. Since his bloody poop tested negative for infection, the most likely culprit was a food allergy. The most common food allergy in infants is milk, so I stopped eating any milk products and his eczema cleared up. Yay! The blood, not so much. In fact it got worse. So I scheduled an appointment with a specialist. The specialist agreed it was probably food allergies, but to what? He gave me a whole list of possibilities: Milk, soy, fish, peanuts, tree nuts, wheat, and eggs. I had two options: I could cut out one at a time, and if he's allergic to more than one it will be harder to figure out, or I could cut out everything and slowly add thing back one at a time. I chose option 2. But the question begged to be answered, what exactly can I eat?
The doctor said that it took 3 days for all the allergens to get out of my body, and my breast milk. Everything I read online said up to three weeks, so I compromised with a one week cleanse. I pretty much couldn't eat anything except for homemade meals that consisted of fresh vegetables and meat. I am a girl that loves to eat out, so it was miserable.
As I slowly added things back into my diet, I figured out it was the soy. No big deal right? Well I am here to tell you, SOY IS IN EVERYTHING. Soybean oil is in all Publix bakery items that I've found, most breads, and pretty much anything cooked with oil. In fact the "vegetable oil" you usually cook with is probably soybean oil. Soy is also used as a protein filler, so it's in a lot of beef dishes including all taco bell beef items, hamburgers, etc. It's in mayonnaise, salad dressings, chocolate, candies, EVERYTHING. But that's a whole other story. After I cut all soy and milk products from my diet, the blood started going away, and he started nursing like normal.
Reason 1 for nursing strike: Upset tummy/food allergies
All was going smoothly, and I was feeling like the mommy with all the answers when one night, Jackson would not eat, but he was screaming like a banshie. I tried to play with him, thinking he wasn't hungry. No, he continued crying. So I gave him some of his reflux medication, and he drank it like a hungry newborn pup. What is going on??? A few days later, I looked in his mouth while he was screaming and saw puffy, swollen gums. Aw hell. This is it. We're teething. Apparently sucking causes pain in the gums while they are teething. For this I promptly ordered two bottles of Hyland's teething tablets. Another mom friend of mine recommended rubbing them directly on the gums, which I did. Not that I would ever recommend administering anything with any variation from the directions on the label, I did and it worked wonders. They break up almost immediately, and in about ten minutes, he's eating like normal. My pediatrician recommended Orajel because "it's always better to use something topical rather than something they ingest," but when my baby is in pain, I'm doing what works if I have no reason not to.
Reason 2: Teething
These are the two reasons so far I've encountered for nursing strikes, but there are lots. Here are some links I've found helpful:
http://www.babycenter.com/0_nursing-strike_8490.bc
http://kellymom.com/bf/concerns/child/back-to-breast/
http://www.vitacost.com/hylands-baby-tiny-cold-tablets
https://winelibrary.com/ (Just saying...it's a stressful time. We all need a way to unwind.)
Nursing strike are when, for one reason or another, your baby will not nurse even though he or she is starving. So you have a screaming miserable child at your breast latching and unlatching (easily the most painful part of nursing in the beginning), but not actually getting any food.
The first time I experienced this, I had no clue what to think. I just sat and rocked with Jackson until he got so exhausted from the labor of pitching a fit and starving, that he would latch and immediately doze off. It was miserable to see my little man like that. A few weeks later, the culprit leered its ugly head. At about 5:30 on a Friday, I unwrapped a soiled diaper to find blood. Holy crap. And of course this would be the timing. I called the pediatrician on call, and after a long weekend of close monitoring, sleepless nights, and an almost trip to the children's emergency center, we went to the doctor's office on Monday.
Food allergies. Since his bloody poop tested negative for infection, the most likely culprit was a food allergy. The most common food allergy in infants is milk, so I stopped eating any milk products and his eczema cleared up. Yay! The blood, not so much. In fact it got worse. So I scheduled an appointment with a specialist. The specialist agreed it was probably food allergies, but to what? He gave me a whole list of possibilities: Milk, soy, fish, peanuts, tree nuts, wheat, and eggs. I had two options: I could cut out one at a time, and if he's allergic to more than one it will be harder to figure out, or I could cut out everything and slowly add thing back one at a time. I chose option 2. But the question begged to be answered, what exactly can I eat?
The doctor said that it took 3 days for all the allergens to get out of my body, and my breast milk. Everything I read online said up to three weeks, so I compromised with a one week cleanse. I pretty much couldn't eat anything except for homemade meals that consisted of fresh vegetables and meat. I am a girl that loves to eat out, so it was miserable.
As I slowly added things back into my diet, I figured out it was the soy. No big deal right? Well I am here to tell you, SOY IS IN EVERYTHING. Soybean oil is in all Publix bakery items that I've found, most breads, and pretty much anything cooked with oil. In fact the "vegetable oil" you usually cook with is probably soybean oil. Soy is also used as a protein filler, so it's in a lot of beef dishes including all taco bell beef items, hamburgers, etc. It's in mayonnaise, salad dressings, chocolate, candies, EVERYTHING. But that's a whole other story. After I cut all soy and milk products from my diet, the blood started going away, and he started nursing like normal.
Reason 1 for nursing strike: Upset tummy/food allergies
All was going smoothly, and I was feeling like the mommy with all the answers when one night, Jackson would not eat, but he was screaming like a banshie. I tried to play with him, thinking he wasn't hungry. No, he continued crying. So I gave him some of his reflux medication, and he drank it like a hungry newborn pup. What is going on??? A few days later, I looked in his mouth while he was screaming and saw puffy, swollen gums. Aw hell. This is it. We're teething. Apparently sucking causes pain in the gums while they are teething. For this I promptly ordered two bottles of Hyland's teething tablets. Another mom friend of mine recommended rubbing them directly on the gums, which I did. Not that I would ever recommend administering anything with any variation from the directions on the label, I did and it worked wonders. They break up almost immediately, and in about ten minutes, he's eating like normal. My pediatrician recommended Orajel because "it's always better to use something topical rather than something they ingest," but when my baby is in pain, I'm doing what works if I have no reason not to.
Reason 2: Teething
These are the two reasons so far I've encountered for nursing strikes, but there are lots. Here are some links I've found helpful:
http://www.babycenter.com/0_nursing-strike_8490.bc
http://kellymom.com/bf/concerns/child/back-to-breast/
http://www.vitacost.com/hylands-baby-tiny-cold-tablets
https://winelibrary.com/ (Just saying...it's a stressful time. We all need a way to unwind.)
Where am I and How Did I Get Here?
Once upon a time, there was a poor, female college student who had no
boyfriend, no family to speak of, and was a workaholic. This girl would talk to
her friends about people they knew who "married rich" and was now a
stay at home mom. She would wistfully say, "If my husband worked, and all
I had to do was stay home with the kids, I would bend over backwards to make
his life easier. Shit, he wouldn't have to cook, clean, get up at night. Being
a stay-at-home-mom would be THA BOMB!" (Yes this was that long ago.)
Fast forward to, oh about a year ago. This former college student (now college graduate without a job in her field) is now three months pregnant and contemplating her impending life as a mother. If her parents taught her anything it was that balance is important to being a good parent. Oh yes, she would love her child and do anything for the little cutey, but her identity would still be equally as important. She'd never be one of those women who never lost the baby weight, whose roots are three inches long, doesn't wear make-up, and had shit stains (the baby's of course) on her pants. No, she would be a strong independent working mother. Have one day a week for herself. Wake up early to work out. Cuddle little baby Johnny or Janey to sleep, wake him or her up with a kiss in the morning, then lovingly kiss and hug him or her as she trotted of to further her career.
Fast forward to four months ago. Baby Johnny (actually Jackson) is two months old, and after having to be kept in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for two weeks directly after birth, the ex-college student, career woman extraordinaire (me) is sobbing all over her baby after her first day back at work. This is after nearly having to wrestle the baby out of my husbands hands because he wanted to hold Jackson so I could figure out dinner. It's kind of humiliating to cry so hard you're hyperventilating while snot is simultaneously steaming down your face and forming snot bubbles in front of the man who sees you naked, but I suppose that's what love is. At that moment we decided priority number one was me staying at home with my baby. Visions of infant art projects, Pinterest inspired creations, exotic cuisine, and strolling through the park with my little one filled my head. Eventually, by some act of God, my last day of work came and my first day of stay-at-home euphoria began.
And then reality smacked me in the ass.
Now as I am parked in front of the mirror because that is the only place Jackson feels like being to stare at his new best friend (himself), I see my grown out roots, my pudgy belly, and some unidentifiable brown substance on my shirt, I think...what the FUCK happened? When exactly am I suppeosed to put together my scrapbook? How am I supposed to stroll anywhere when this child screams when he's anywhere but in my arms? How do you sweep with a Baby Bjorn on? And cooking? That just sounds like an invitation to the burn unit with my baby. So that begs the question...what now? Is there a way to reconcile my fantasy life and the life I'm actually in?
Fast forward to, oh about a year ago. This former college student (now college graduate without a job in her field) is now three months pregnant and contemplating her impending life as a mother. If her parents taught her anything it was that balance is important to being a good parent. Oh yes, she would love her child and do anything for the little cutey, but her identity would still be equally as important. She'd never be one of those women who never lost the baby weight, whose roots are three inches long, doesn't wear make-up, and had shit stains (the baby's of course) on her pants. No, she would be a strong independent working mother. Have one day a week for herself. Wake up early to work out. Cuddle little baby Johnny or Janey to sleep, wake him or her up with a kiss in the morning, then lovingly kiss and hug him or her as she trotted of to further her career.
Fast forward to four months ago. Baby Johnny (actually Jackson) is two months old, and after having to be kept in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for two weeks directly after birth, the ex-college student, career woman extraordinaire (me) is sobbing all over her baby after her first day back at work. This is after nearly having to wrestle the baby out of my husbands hands because he wanted to hold Jackson so I could figure out dinner. It's kind of humiliating to cry so hard you're hyperventilating while snot is simultaneously steaming down your face and forming snot bubbles in front of the man who sees you naked, but I suppose that's what love is. At that moment we decided priority number one was me staying at home with my baby. Visions of infant art projects, Pinterest inspired creations, exotic cuisine, and strolling through the park with my little one filled my head. Eventually, by some act of God, my last day of work came and my first day of stay-at-home euphoria began.
And then reality smacked me in the ass.
Now as I am parked in front of the mirror because that is the only place Jackson feels like being to stare at his new best friend (himself), I see my grown out roots, my pudgy belly, and some unidentifiable brown substance on my shirt, I think...what the FUCK happened? When exactly am I suppeosed to put together my scrapbook? How am I supposed to stroll anywhere when this child screams when he's anywhere but in my arms? How do you sweep with a Baby Bjorn on? And cooking? That just sounds like an invitation to the burn unit with my baby. So that begs the question...what now? Is there a way to reconcile my fantasy life and the life I'm actually in?
Breastfeeding: The Unauthorized Story
My best friend, Stacy, just gave birth to a baby girl, and up until that point, she was asking me about breastfeeding. With her son, she had just pumped until he was about four months, when she "dried up." This time she wanted to do it the old fashioned way because pumping and bottle feeding is the worst of both worlds. This propelled me back to when I first started breastfeeding Jackson, and what a nightmare that was. He's now six months, and I swear if I were not so cheap, that baby would have been a formula baby, but I am so thankful I persisted.
It all started when Jax latched right on with an Dyson-rivaled suction that even impressed his pediatricians.
"OH, he's not tongue tied! He's quite the little sucker!" they would say.
"Tell me about it," I would respond as my nipple would ache just thinking about his torment. By the second day, I had a deep gash going across my nipple. The lactation consultant was even impressed. I guess there's a demographic for everything. "Breastfeeding is not supposed to hurt!" they would tell me. All the websites touted the same motto, spiraling me into a depression about not being fulfill the most basic of my child's needs correctly. Let me just put this out there; that is bullshit. Yeah in a perfect world, a first time mother and a newborn would know exactly how to latch without it being painful. But that's not how it works. It's new to the baby and it's new to you. That baby is only concerned with getting food; technique is secondary. So, until you have more experience with your baby, be patient, take your mind off of it, and load up on that sweet sweet percocet, because this is going to be a bumpy ride.
Secondly, no one explained to me the phenomenon of "Cluster Feeding." Though it's not really a phenomenon because we know the how and the why, I had never heard of it, and had no clue what I was in for. You see, as your milk is coming in, the baby's demand facilitates the production. Since you're producing so little at first, the baby is constantly on your teat. By constantly, I mean twelve hours at a time, usually overnight. No one explained this to me. My sweet little lactation consultant helped me position the baby and told me to feed him 15 minutes each side. So I did that, he went to sleep for a few hours. I set an alarm in my phone to feed him again in two hours and reclined serenely dozing while reflecting on what an awesome parent I was. Then our first night rolled around. That child screamed and screamed and screamed. I would feed him for a few minutes, he would fall asleep, I'd put him in the bassinet, and he would wake up and scream. He couldn't be hungry; I had fed him the prescribed 15 minutes per side. At one point my husband was holding him in front of his torso like a sacrificial lamb, and looked at me with a face full of horror and said, "What have we done?" The next few nights went by like that--an endless cycle of 30 minute feedings, him dozing off, only to awake screaming as I try to put him in his bed. Yes, what have we done?
Finally, a few days into my nightmare, a petite, sweet-as-sugar nurse comes to check on me because they can hear my screaming baby from the nurse's station. I tell her my problem and she says, "Oh, I remember those days! Cluster feeding is awful!" Right. Cluster feeding. As soon as she leaves I grab my phone and google "cluster feeding." Seriously? Feeding for hours? I already felt like my nipples were going to fall off. They were already cracked and bloody. They want me to expose them to the enemy for HOURS at a time? As Jax started crying again, I hit the button for the nurse, popped a nipple in his mouth, and asked for more pain pills. The things you'll do to get your child to stop crying.
Lastly I had read articles about babies dying and being injured from co-sleeping and swore I would never put my baby in that position. I could go without sleep for my child's well being. Ha. Right. Finding a way to nurse while sleeping was the best thing I did. Jackson got the food he needed, and I got the sleep I needed.Now, it helps that the nursing/sleeping position is pretty uncomfortable to me, so I wake up regularly to check on him, and I make sure his head is always elevated. The following website illustrates the position I use, but I keep my arm down to elevate his head.
http://naturalparentsnetwork.com/side-lying-nursing-a-breastfeeding-tutorial/
In conclusion, I'm pretty shocked I stuck with breastfeeding. I was so uneducated and naive going in. Between friends who had been there and googling everything along the way, I made it through. I promised myself I would commit to six weeks and reassess the situation at that point. By six weeks I had no nipple pain, my son was on a schedule, and breastfeeding was second nature.
Hi, My Name is Normal
Since this is my first blog entry, I find it necessary to use this as my mission statement. The goal of this blog is to let people, especially mothers and fathers, know that they are now alone. No, you are not the first mom to ignore your screaming child in the backseat while you sit in a line for thirty minutes at Starbucks. No, you're not the only father who acts like he doesn't know how to do things so that the experienced mommy will take over ("Well...I don't know how these diapers work" as you hand her a child with a diaper on backwards.) Did you ignore a WELL overdue dirty diaper because your child just went to sleep, and all you want is a nap because you got two-hours of sleep last night? Been there. Did you drink a glass of wine while breastfeeding hoping that your child would get a miniscule amount of alcohol and sleep during the night? Well, I won't admit to it if you won't. (That doesn't work by the way. If you visit Le Leche League's website, you will see that alcohol consumption while nursing, though a small amount in moderation won't hurt the baby because such a small amount makes its way into the breast milk, it actually leads to restless sleepers. Not that I put any thought into this.) Did your baby fall off the bed because you didn't realize she was that mobile, and you just wanted to pee without judgmental baby staring at you? Well, you get the idea.
Not that this blog is only about parenthood. I have f-ups and mistakes in judgment in all aspects of my life. And that's the point. Life isn't about succeeding. If we were all born proficient at what we wanted to do, there would be no journey. There would be no Behind the Music, no Project Runway, and most importantly no Iron Chef. Life is about the f-ups, because without f-ups, we're all the same.
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