Posts Tagged ‘breastfeeding’

Sore and shiny

Sunday, July 5th, 2009

I think I have thrush. It’s a yeast infection you can get on your nipples and in the baby’s mouth from, well, lots of things, but I think I got it from damp nursing pads or wearing my Lilypadz at night. My nipples are burning like crazy and look very pink and shiny and even though Baby Evan’s latch is finally right it still hurts every time he eats. GAH. I’m doing everything the internet suggests to try and get rid of it on my own (seriously, you don’t want to know) but tomorrow I’m going to ask my LC to look at my nipples. Wow. I can’t believe I am eagerly awaiting my chance to have a 65 year old woman look at my nipples. Having a baby really does change things.

My nipples are not chew toys

Monday, June 29th, 2009

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GROWTH SPURT AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Baby Evan nursed for an hour and a half tonight and is already at it again. If my nipples don’t get at least a 6 hour break tonight I’m concerned they’re going to pack up and leave tomorrow morning. Like, NO WAY DUDE, we didn’t sign up for this. Your baby needs as much milk as four babies? GROW ANOTHER SET.

Busy Baby, Tired Mama

Sunday, June 28th, 2009

Yesterday went like this: bad, good, really good, bad, really bad, NAP, good, really really good, super fun good, sorta bad, really bad, OMG will the screaming never end bad, EIGHT HOURS OF SLEEP.

Since our Friday night plans got cancelled because of thunderstorms, we wanted to check out the Harbor Festival yesterday. Our town is celebrating it’s 350th anniversary and has been holding events for the past few weeks. They’re doing parties and lectures and walking tours of the mansions and gardens and there’s a tall ship down at the harbor and unfortunately I have made it to exactly zero events. As of today I have still attended zero, because I have a three month old. Baby Evan just didn’t give a crap that there were balloons! and pirates! and cotton candy! and a drum and fife band! None of those things interested him more than my boob, so with my handy nursing cover I fed him on a park bench. It went pretty well. It would have gone better if I’d had a pillow. Or if it hadn’t been a million degrees. Or if the drum and fife band hadn’t fired their muskets right when I got the baby latched on. causing him to almost rip my nipple off.

In the evening, we packed up the baby and some lemon bars and went over to E’s former co-workers for a cookout. We set up camp in the baby-corner with four other sets of parents and had a great time lying in the grass surrounded by kids and dogs and food. We made it two hours and one feeding before my back started screaming in pain and my head felt like it was going to explode. Baby Evan was grumpy from being awake for too many hours and once the yelling started I knew it wasn’t going to end. Although he napped in the car on the way home, he was too hungry to sleep for long and I spent the rest of the evening nursing him almost constantly to keep him from wailing.  At 11 pm I gave up and turned him over to E hoping I could get a couple hours of rest. At 7 am I woke up and found both my boys had slept in the living room and I had gotten EIGHT HOURS of sleep for the first time in 12 weeks. I needed it. Today we’re going to do nothing structured and just let baby (and E) nap as much as he wants.

IMG_2483Pictures:

Baby Evan’s outfit is a hand me down from when my brother (now 20) was a baby.

Using my nursing cover.

Baby, blanket and beer at the cookout. E even wore the sling for a while, despite some of the guys giving him crap. It made the other moms really jealous of my awesome husband.
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Don't read this

Friday, June 26th, 2009

I’m going to tell you something you didn’t want or need to know. You’re probably going to think it’s gross and weird. Technically, you are very wrong to think that. Technically. But even I think it’s a little gross so for the first time ever, I’m giving you the opportunity to NOT read something. Here comes the break, only click if you SERIOUSLY want to read about it.

Breastfeeding Blues

Thursday, April 9th, 2009

I don’t know why I thought this would be easy. With eight zillion resources online and books and support groups and lactation consultants, plus about two years of blog reading where breastfeeding was discussed at least once a week, I thought I was totally aware of how things worked. I took a class. They gave me a CERTIFICATE.  Unfortunately, my baby obviously wasn’t paying attention, since he absolutely refuses to latch on. He either falls asleep with my nipple sort of drunkenly hanging out or he gets supersupersuper excited and thrashes his head around like a crazy person making squeaky noises until he gets milk all over his face – but none in his mouth.

Since Baby Evan needed to eat immediately after birth because of his body temp and low blood sugar, I did the one thing I swore I wouldn’t do and allowed the nurses to give him formula. It felt like I had failed my child only ten minutes after bringing him into the world. From that point on it only got worse. My lactation consultant Andrea – the one I luuuuuved from class and was so looking forward to working with – no longer works in the birthing center. She went and got a new job just a few days ago. I feel personally abandoned. The first night after the birth the baby stayed in the nursery for observation and when the nurse would bring him in to feed she just dropped him off and left. I had no one to help, no one to tell me what I was doing wrong, no one to explain how to FIX IT. I may be a first time mom but one thing I definitely know is babies need to eat. It’s pretty much their only job in life – and my only job is providing Baby with food – so when it’s not working on either end we are both miserable.

By Wednesday morning – Baby Evan’s 3rd day of life – I couldn’t stop crying. Every time I thought about breastfeeding, or held the baby, or tried to get him to latch with absolutely no success I had a little breakdown. It didn’t help that despite my failure my milk came in and my boobs are literally like two big cantalopes stapled to my chest – rock hard and so swollen I can’t put my arms by my sides. My baby book says you should establish a breastfeeding routine before you start to pump. The nurse at the hospital said I should pump a little first so the baby could get a better latch. I thought pumping was for women who had to work, not moms who’s ONLY to-do item is Breastfeed on Demand. I also had no idea how my little hand pump worked since I hadn’t planned to use it.

We needed to get things set up with the Navy health care pediatrician yesterday, since the on-call ped wanted me to have his billi levels checked (a fancy way of saying he looks kind of yellow) within 24 hours. I won’t give you the whole horror story about how totally incompetent practically everyone we dealt with was, but lets just say the baby no longer has virgin ears. His first words may be “useless douchebags”. The whole process took three times as long as we thought and we didn’t bring any formula to supplement my attempted feedings. I actually had to leave the waiting room and go cry in the car while E almost got himself in a huge amount of trouble by yelling at an officer who kept telling him the baby couldn’t see the doctor until all the systems updated. Most of the time I love my socialist health care. This was not one of those times. When we finally got to see the Navy doctor I scared her by being such a wreck. Since the cure for jaundice is poop, getting the baby to eat was now everyone’s top priority. Super. Now someone PLEASE TELL ME HOW TO DO THIS.

Luckily, someone did. The pediatrician gave me the number for a lactation consultant who we called before even leaving the parking lot. In a 5 minute phone conversation I went from panicked to FINE. She said of course I should pump if the baby won’t latch. She also told me to put some hot compresses on my enormous swollen boobs ASAP – which is the best advice about anything I have ever gotten ever – and we made an appointment to see her today at noon. I managed to pump enough to feed Baby Evan all night. E and I took turns sleeping – 5 hours each, and he actually let me have 6 – so this morning I felt great. We went back to the doctor (A+ for baby improvement!) and everyone was much much less scared of the hysterical woman clutching the diaper bag and sobbing.

At noon we met with our amazing, fantastic, reassuring, incredibly knowledgeable lactation consultant Carol. (BTW, if you ever thought teaching women how to breastfeed sounded like the ideal job, you might want to look into it. Although we got a military discount and some insurance companies help to cover it, the cost for a consultation is $100/hour. And you get to look at boobs all day!) Carol taught me about magical nipple shields. It turns out that my body is SO EXCITED to make milk my boobs have swollen and my nipples have practically disappeared. The baby can’t latch on to flat nipples. But if I correct them with this soft little plastic nipple-shaped cover, he is AWESOME at feeding. He actually eats so much so fast I have to pull him off and make him slow down. A nipple shield saved my life. THREE DAYS of panic and crying and worrying my baby would die was cured by a $4.99 piece of silicone.

After our meeting with Carol, a visiting nurse provided by the Navy and Marine Relief Society came over to check on me. She brought lots of great information, not just about breastfeeding but about our options for choosing a pediatrician and getting the baby covered by our health care. She’s going to keep calling and coming to check on me at least once a week, which is really reassuring, since after our final jaundice check-up tomorrow Baby Evan won’t go to the doctor for another 2 weeks. Basically, I am no longer worried about anything baby related. It’s going to take a while for me to really get the hang of breastfeeding but the fact that things have improved 1000000000% in the last 24 hours is a good sign. Next week I’ll probably be feeding while walking around. We’ll hold off on feeding while juggling chainsaws until at least month 2. And after I learn to juggle.