I mentioned Isaac's weight gain had been a bit piss-poor lately. He's basically gained 8oz - ish in the last month. And so of course, Ms HV #9 (I've lost count) is talking about monitoring his weight gain and topping him up with formula. I know this isn't a huge issue (to some) because it's not like I'd be stopping breastfeeding entirely. Also, there have been some uh, milk and boob issues lately.
Thankfully my milk is making it's reappearance, and I'm doing all I can to rebuild freezer supplies. It's slow, and my boobs are still on the mend (I shit myself every time they twinge a bit, especially as I forgot to finish the last day of my meds) but it's better than nothing and I'm thankful for every last ounce I can, uh squeeze out.
I'm trying so hard to maintain, and whilst I've had so much support (thank you ALL, you are all wonderful), it's getting very frustrating. Isaac is feeding every 2 hours and he falls asleep most of the time on the boob. And I'm doing everything short of dancing around the room while he's feeding to keep him awake.
And interestingly enough, two weeks went by before he pooped. Two. Whole. Weeks. During which time he gained 8oz. And I suspect, in the last 24 hours, he may actually have crapped it all out again. And a bit extra, for good measure. I've lost count how many times he's pooped since yesterday. He doesn't even seem bothered.
So what am I to do? It's my decision, I know that. I'm trying my absolute best, but my frigging paranoia eats at me and makes me wonder if I should just become another common "statistic" and just give it up. I don't mean to offend anyone, I know we all have our own views on breastfeeding, which I totally appreciate. But sometimes it feels like people and circumstances are trying to make the decisions for me. Day to day, the only supportive people who I'm physically in contact with have been D and the Nanny. I've gotten pissed with people for snapping at me in the midst of it all, when all I wanted was a little support or help. Even to just offer a drink while I'm desperately trying to feed. Ask if there's anything they can do, even there isn't.
And now, the freaking guilt (the guilt, damn you) makes me wonder if I'm completely in the wrong. Isaac is otherwise doing really well. He sleeps through the night (apart from when he's filling another nappy or rolling onto his back to talk to his mobile at 3 a.m.), he naps during the day, he has wet nappies...so what's the problem, right?
This fucking guilt. I could just do without it now. I'm doing my damned best already.