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Friday, June 14, 2013

Baby Brain: My Lovely Lady Lumps

I decided before I even got pregnant that I was going to be a breastfeeding mama. I knew I would have to work hard at it, I have several friends who have had issues, but I really do believe that breastfeeding is important.

My mother wasn’t able to breastfed me, she got swindled by the nurses at the hospital I was born in and she lost her milk so I ended up being a formula fed baby by default. My goal is to try and get to the six month mark and then if things are going well I would love to breastfeed for a year if possible. We are going to try for child number two as soon as my OBGYN gives my c-section scar the thumbs up and I am not waiting for nature to maybe work, I am not screwing around, I am going right back on the fertility drugs I went on to get pregnant with my Little Cricket. This October I will be 35 and my biological clock is ticking like cracks of thunder. I want a second child as soon as I can healthily carry one. Going on the fertility drug means that I may have to stop breastfeeding but I will cross that bridge when I get to it.

During my pregnancy I looked forward to breastfeeding. I loved the idea of bonding with my baby as well as giving him tons of antibiotics and as an added perk getting rid of an extra 500 calories a day; hurrah for baby sucking calories! After three weeks of wielding my torpedo boobs, I can say now with a tiny bit of authority that breast feeding is NOT EASY. Now let me be clear, I didn’t hear it was going to be easy; however I didn’t think it would be this hard. The first few days of breastfeeding were exercises in frustration and a massive loss of my delicate modesty. I can say that it was an agony involving staples, some samurai knives and a chopping block. All of this resulted in a ton of frustration both for me and for my Little Cricket. I mean I’m not comparing or anything but a baby horse can run as fast as its mother an hour after birth. AN HOUR HERE FOLKS! And I cannot get my little one latched onto my boob so he won’t die of starvation in an hour.

So he cried, I cried. There was just so much crying.

After the first few days, after my forced 24 hour formula supplementation, just when I baby and I were starting to get the hang of everything, just when the stabbing and the knives started getting a little dull; my body went and pulled another of its multiple personalities out of the blue. My milk came in, my boobs became marble impossibilities and my Little Cricket and I got to play the super fun game of trying to get hooked up properly all over again.

Now weeks later my breasts are pretty much immune to the bi-hourly torture. We are actually doing quite well and are managing the 12 feedings a day in little under 15 minutes per feeding. Still breastfeeding takes a considerable amount of time, we are talking about three hours a day here folks. I do find that despite the time commitment I love this bonding time with my son. My only complaint is the round the clock feedings which interrupt any attempt I have to achieve a decent REM cycle.

With breast feeding well established, and me at my sleep deprived end of my tether I decided to introduce a bottle of expressed milk once a day. Trying to pump was a little difficult at first but Mrs. Pool Shark gifted me with the Cadillac of all breast pumps and with a little practice I am now pumping a bottle as I am feeding my little guy. Even with this break so I can get a solid four hour window of sleep my breasts won’t let me stay sleep. Regardless of whether or not the baby is feeding my breasts continues making milk and three hours after I lay down they start screaming. They are used to getting emptied every hour and a half to two hours and when they aren’t they get pissed ‘hell hath no fury like a pair of un-emptied breasts’. So I find myself lying in bed, refusing to get up because the baby is still sleeping and isn’t ready for his next feeding, but unable to fall back asleep because of the pain of my titanium rock hard breasts and I shake my fists at the sky.

But then I get up, wakeup my son, we snuggle down in the rocker and I immediately feel better. And as I sit there with this silly little grin on my face I think that I have a loving husband, a perfect baby boy and four hours of straight sleep. And I know that I am blessed!

3 comments:

paul peggy zeus said...

Almost right. I didn't lose my milk it came in like niagra falls. The nurses kept feeding you formula in the hospital and wasn't bringing you in for feelings. By the time I got home my boobs were ten times their original size and hard as rocks! i went from a 34 B to a 44 DD! Thank goodness nurses are more cognizant about breast feeding mothers today.

Jennifer Arens said...

Hey you made it past 3 weeks! That was my goal :-) the rushing feeling dies down or you get used to it :-) when you wean the marbles turn to rocks. Best/worst feeling

Jennifer Arens said...

Lmao your second robot encrypted word was milk. Too funny.

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