Showing posts with label Breastfeeding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breastfeeding. Show all posts
Just When I Broke My Ass
@cosmicgirlie
You know how you bust your ass doing something and then something else happens and then you wondered why you bothered with something but you're going to keep going on with something because seriously, some things just cannot happen yet and what the hell?

Yesterday, Isaac tried his first solids. He had two tiny spoons of baby food. Not even baby rice, or you know, water, milky crap runny stuff that tastes of fuck all, no no. Proper. Baby. Food. SOme sort of chicken and peach and another random vegetable. And he liked it. The boy who has had nothing other than boob juice in it's various hint-of-whatever-mom-just-ate forms.

And then today? This happened.


He ate HALF A JAR of food. Oh wait, did I say "ate"? I meant DEVOURED.


This of course comes JUST after my boobs are pretty much fully recovered, I'm halfway to restocking the freezer (57fl.oz so far since last weekend) and I was still trying to grasp the idea that WAAHHHHH THIS IS MAH BAYYYYYBEEEEEEEEEE.

I expressed this in one sitting this morning.


He still has boob juice every 2 - 3 hours (god forbid I should try to push more than three hours). And he's had the solids in the evenings before his last feed. D and I thought "hah! Hahaha! This'll be a laugh, right? He'll barely eat any, he'll struggle with the spoon."

Nope, nope, any spillage was my own fault (missed his mouth), he easily (and forcefully) guided my spoon-wielding hand towards his mouth with minimal effort, and he ate the food off it like a pro. Or like someone who was quite prepared to eat "real food".

Think I might take him to Pizza Hut next week.
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If it's not one thing...
@cosmicgirlie
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.
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It's All About the Boob 'n' Juice
@cosmicgirlie
Ok I'm curious about many things when it comes to breastfeeding. I know how I've dealt with it all, and how I'm coping now. I can commit the crime of googling all manner of message boards and seeing other women's input. But they never seem to answer my questions directly. And I'm left still curious.

So in this post, I'm going to ramble and babble a bit, you know, to be different, and then I would love as much of your feedback as possible. I want to hear your stories. Comments, emails, texts - I don't mind. Write it down so I can have time to look over them all properly. But I really want to hear from you. Thanks.

Did you supplement your breastfeeding? With what? Why?

How long did you breast feed for? Why did you stop? Why did you go so long? Would you have gone longer?

Do you know how much milk you were producing? Did your supplies ever drop? How do you know? Did your little one start losing weight? Did they gain too much weight?

What did you do to keep up supplies? Did you eat specific foods? Did you drastically change your diet? Did you avoid anything like the plague? Why?

Did you express your milk? Which method worked best for you, hand or pump? Could you see differences in your milk at different times of the day? What sort of differences?

Did you have any problems breastfeeding? Mastitis? Thrush? Low supply? Over supply? "Let-Down" problems? Sore nipples? How did you deal with it all?

Ok, your turn!
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And It's Only Wednesday
@cosmicgirlie
Sweet Lord. Why do you test me so? Do you not feel it is enough to be a mother of two very young, lovely children, that you must add extra traumas to the situation? Is my body not wrecked enough for you that you must destroy it a little more? Do you enjoy watching me smack my head against a (any) wall (daily) in frustration?

Sunday night/Monday morning, a suspicious growing pain in left boob woke me up. I didn't panic, that nipple's been "off" for ages so I put it down to that. However, at 2 am when I was shoving my fist in mouth to keep from screaming in agony and thought I might pass out from pain, I had a tiny inkling that something was up. So I took a 50mg cocodamol.

Half an hour later, when I was wondering if I would be able to move my arm or touch my boob (in a pervy way or not, I didn't care) and whether I might suddenly ralph over everything in sight for the sheer pain, I wondered what I should do next apart from wait for the pain killer to kick in.

Yeah, um, one hour after taking the first cocodamol I decided it was time for another. When I'm sat there sobbing to D saying that I'd rather be in labour again, I figured that was saying something. So I took another. And finally passed out. Possibly from pain? I dunno, I like to think so because it kind of sounds dramatic. It's most likely it was just something dull like sheer frigging exhaustion.

Unfortunately, after falling asleep sometime around 3 am, Noah awoke at about 6:30. That, I could deal with. But then Isaac awoke at 7. And he. Was. HUNGRY.

What's a mom to do? Feed their kid, right? So feeling like I might actually pass out or puke, I put him on right somehow, hoping to god and beyond belief that he wouldn't accidentally knock left (which of course did happen, but you know, I {literally} won't hold it against him.)

I put him on. I grabbed my little plastic wastepaper bin.

And threw up. Repeatedly.

And I hadn't even eaten, so I'm sure you can guess how lovely THAT was.*

You know, it takes some skill to be in agony, feed your kid (AND still totally love them), up-chuck and clench hard enough to not completely pee yourself at the same time.

I spent most of Monday in a sweaty daze; D took me to the Dr in the morning who confirmed mastitis and a thrush infection of the milk ducts, all on left boob. She also said my left boob was "hot enough to fry an egg on", which of course, I take as a compliment (whether she meant "hot" or "hawt" is a different matter).

I was very pleased to discover the results of my fever that evening, which read 40.2 degrees, or 104 degrees if you please (now that's "hawt").

Thankfully I've managed to break the fever, and left boob has been re-established (how I even got mastitis in it I'll never know, because I was still feeding Isaac on it, but you know, whatever). I don't scream when it touches the bed as I lie down, and the only problems now is that whole nipple-at-the-bottom-of-the-bed fear (because I swear they're determined not to heal up and they WILL appear down there one day) and trying not to let the pools of sweat collecting in my eyes when I lie on my back bother me too much.

Noah is covered in spots. Yes, AGAIN. You know what? I'm not even going to call chicken pox this time. I don't even know. We're starting to eliminate different things that it could be. And we actually don't have a clue. We could take him back to the docs (which would quite possibly be a record for the most number of doctor trips in a year). Hell, we could let the boy run around naked only eating bread and water (and he wouldn't complain) and we don't think it'd make a difference.

So I bet it's chicken pox.

Isaac hasn't put on any weight. Actually, correction. 3 weeks ago he hadn't put on any weight. 2 weeks ago, he'd lost 2 ounces. So needless to say, I'm blaming myself. D is, of course and as ever, being as supportive as he possibly can. He knows I'm trying my damndest to keep the boy fed. But after the last straw today (in which I can't blog about here, I think, but someone REALLY pushed me to my sanity limits today) and starting to feel like a failure, I'm wondering if I should stop. Whether I should give up flying the breastfeeding flag, let the good ship sink, bid it adieu. I don't want to, but it seems like I'm not even fighting "physical issues" anymore.

I haven't had chance to rebuild milk stores ready for my next concert (rehearsals start end of August) and the pressure is building fast. My boobs have been a mess and in very little state to express efficiently. There's a frigging annoying voice in the back of my head which keeps saying "just give him formula! He won't even care!" Well you know what? You're right. He probably wouldn't give a monkey's right bollock. But I would. And that matters to me.

And it's only Wednesday.

*Barfing is somehow easier when there's food to barf up.
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You turn your back for 2 seconds...
@cosmicgirlie
...and a big stinky sore nipple comes along and bites you on the butt. Or, it comes along and you think to yourself "OH MY GOD I WOULD SOONER BY IN LABOUR AGAIN THAN DO THIS PAIN GAHHHHHHHHH".

Somehow, when I wasn't paying attention/forgot the Lansinoh/was being lazy, Left Boob went and decided to do that uncomfortable shredded thing where it looks like Freddy Kreuger decided to find the most unorthodox way into your bra. Sadly it means I'm reminded of how I dealt with Noah in his first 6 weeks

Today Isaac had the joy of trying out a nipple condom, which proved to be freaking horrendous. Yeah, when he keeps latching on because he can't get a good "grip" (seriously), it kind of causes a bit more trauma. And because I am the Queen of All That Is Chicken-Shit, Right Boob is quite colossal because I've been feeding Isaac mostly on that one. Feed more milk to get more milk, right? Yes yes, I know I should feed him normally on both, yaddah yaddah, but I'd like to see you take a Stanley knife and some lemon juice/vinegar/salt to yer nipple and keep smiling.*

So here I sit, boob hanging out, smothered in breast milk and Lansinoh, hoping that I don't find the nipple at the foot of the bed in the morning. Lovely.


*I'd rather you didn't, because if it really IS anything like what I'm dealing with, then it sure as hell ain't fun.
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And in the news today
@cosmicgirlie
You'd think, given that it's been a week since I blogged, that I'd give you some kind of update(s) right?

Well I would, but shit me, I don't even remember half the stuff from the last three hours, forget the last week.

Needless to say Isaac is still frigging awesome, even if he does have a shit ass cold, and spends most of the night snuffling like a lil piggy looking for truffles (in my bra, no less). He's doing pretty well though, having gone through the night a couple of times (yes seriously, and he's not even three weeks old and people need to stop competing about whether a baby will sleep through the night already - do you think the baby read the manual? Um, nope.) and he feeds like I'm feeding him some kind of alcohol.



Awesome start to life, right?

*am awesome mother

Noah is somehow being seriously cool and yet somehow, evil child all at the same time. Whoever said terrible twos started at two, was lying through their damn butt cheeks. Unfortunately, he's discovered the joys of throwing kick ass tantrums (like, worse than the bitch tantrums he was throwing before), but because I am his mother the THE MUTHA, I have finally mastered "the look" that stops him in his tracks. It's a nice power trip. Must remember not to over use it I guess...



Fortunately, he's FINALLY started to try to say words, albeit the most random ones like oil, teeth, bath, one, two and ah-ah-achoo (thank you Imagination Movers). Of course, anyone else listening probably wouldn't have a clue what he's saying, but since I'm his mother, I'm obviously going to declare him a genius so bite me already.



I've calmed down (a little) from all the breastfeeding uproar and have decided that in future I will indeed whip my boobs out wherever and whenever my boy needs feeding, and if I ever get back into Mothercare Birmingham, I will make a point of feeding in the middle of the store. And I'll probably make a fuss about it too. Why make Mothercare suffer, you ask? Well they should sort out their damn shitty facilities, and they should also make other customers aware of the situation, rather than leave said customers to defend their shite incompetence.

But you know, no biggie.

I will, however, thank you (once again!) for your support, it's nice to know I'm not the only person out there with a real attitude for not taking any shit. And here I was starting to think it was just me who was wondering if being bolshy was all bad...

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go squirt some more milk into a bag and store it ready for my escape down to Gordon Ramsay's Restaurant in London. Yup yup yup!!
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The Great Bewb Juice Debate
@cosmicgirlie
D, Isaac and I decided to brave shopping in Birmingham on Friday. Birmingham, Britain's second capital city, right?

Needless to say, right after D and I had lunch, Isaac was ready to feed. First port of call? Uh, find somewhere to feed him. John Lewis in Solihull has a full parent and baby room, with bottle warmers, changing mats, breastfeeding areas, toilets etc, basically everything a parent with a baby/toddler could ask for.

Birmingham has...nothing. When Noah was still nursing, I would go into public toilets to feed him, because there was nowhere else to go. These toilets were "supposedly" suitable, but usually meant cramming myself into a tiny cubicle with a toilet, sink, changing table and a fold down chair (because there wasn't enough room for a regular chair). Oh and also, a disco ball suspended from the ceiling.

Then they built a large Mothercare, where you would ASSUME there would be a parent and baby room. There was. It was out of order (the plumbing was screwed apparently). So I asked if there was somewhere I could nurse my (screaming) baby. "Yes of course!" they said. "You can use the changing room; there's a chair and plenty of space."

"Um...ok thanks..." Not convinced, but it was better than out on the street.

I was in there maybe 15 minutes, feet perched on the wheels of the pushchair, hunched over the boy trying to get a good position. No luck, but hey, he fed.

As I was putting myself back, D came in and said there was a customer waiting to try on stuff. As I came out, I apologised to her and said there was nowhere else to nurse. At which point (and forgive me if I start typing in caps here, I still get a little, um, IRATE when I recall this), she accused me of being SELFISH for feeding my baby in the changing rooms when there were people (just her I might add) waiting to try on clothes. Also, that she was now very late for whatever, because I'd been HOGGING THE CHANGING ROOM, and she's a mum too so she understands, but I should GO SOMEWHERE ELSE to feed my child instead of causing problems for everyone else.

I (amazingly calmly) told her that I had ASKED PERMISSION from the staff to feed Isaac and they had advised I used that (ONE AND ONLY) changing room.

I should point out that as I type this right now, I'm struggling to avoid tensing up completely and throwing something quite heavy.

She continued to moan and complain. I went and complained to the staff that I had just been bollocked by a frigging customer for their incompetence, and that they might want to think carefully about their facilities, and that as a shop devoted to parents and children, they totally fucking SUCK.

I am so frigging livid, they pissed me off so much I can't believe it, and this was 4 days ago now. I've actually decided that the next time I'm in Birmingham with Isaac and he needs feeding, I will plonk my ass in the middle of the SHITTY CRAP Bullring, or if I can be ARSED to make the walk, in the middle of BOLLOCKY RUBBISH Mothercare and feed right in front of everyone.

The irony is, I have no issues with feeding in front of people. I'll feed wherever and whenever, that's my attitude to breast feeding. It's the most natural thing in the world. My baby wants to eat; I will feed him. Do people go and hide in toilets/changing rooms to feed their kids solids? No. So why should it be any different for me?

So let me have it. Was I right for complaining to the staff? Should I have humbly apologised and walked away, and just leave it there, let it go? Should I in fact go back, sit in the middle of the store/shopping centre and nurse my baby for all to see, to make a statement? I would love your feedback, because it may just dictate whether I write a letter of complaint to the Council and/or Mothercare.

Breast feeding: it's not a crime. Or is it?
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My Hero
@cosmicgirlie
Have you ever been stabbed with a needle? Ok, have you ever had an injection in the thigh? I yelled when I had that done years ago. I can't even remember what it was for, I just remember developing an instant strong dislike for the person administering it.

Noah had his first jabs yesterday. And do you know how they do it? DO YOU???? (High pitched wailing voice and desperate wringing of hands) HOLY MOTHER they give him TWO NEEDLES at the SAME TIME, in BOTH THIGHS.

How did he take it? Well, um, he whimpered a bit and then sat there sucking his pacifier while frowning at the loony nurses. Out in the lobby, he cried for food, then went to sleep. You know, no biggie.

I'd also like to pay a small homage to that wonderful attitude known as Stubborness, a close dear friend of mine.



Yes oh yes thank you very much, I owe Stubborness a lot of gratitude, because that's nearly 50fl.oz of milk you're looking at. Sometimes it's worth bawling your eyes out in sheer pain for six weeks when you get rewards like this.
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