I just caught myself contemplating some of my life's deepest questions. Today, we're talking about...Lazytown.
1. Why is it called Lazytown? Are they saying that the fat kid and the video game guy are lazy? I pick up on nerdy, but not lazy.
2. Why are the girl, Sportacus, and the bad guy regular people but everyone else is a puppet?
3. Is Sportacus' accent fake?
4. When will they air the Mothers Day special that's just 30 minutes of Sportscus doing pushups shirtless? Seriously, that guy's triceps are delicious.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Try this again...
There are four half written posts sitting in my drafts. As it turns out, moving half way across the country, starting a new office from the ground up, and raising a baby from 4 months old to 6 months old is kind of time consuming. This blog isn't the only thing that's been collecting dust. You could build another whole cat/dog from the fur tumbleweeds in my house. It also turns out that carpet is marvelous for hiding shedded animal fur. I had no idea how much there was until the tile in here gave it nowhere to run.
So, what's new on the squirrel front? Let's see...He's eating solids now. So far what we've gotten to work is a breakfast of applesauce with carrots for lunch. You could say we've had limited success with feeding him dinner, if by limited success you mean that every time we've tried to feed him dinner he's woken up halfway through the night with horrible tummy aches. It's been a couple of weeks, and I've tried again tonight. We'll see how that goes!
Also on the squirrel front? Sitting. Well, sort of. He can sit, he just doesn't know it yet. I keep catching him sitting unassisted because he doesn't realize that he's moved away from whatever was propping him up. Of course, though, if you try to sit him up with no illusion of assistance he faceplants right on over. He'll get it soon though.
Not on the squirrel front? Sleeping through the fucking night. We've actually moved backwards. He's gone from getting up once overnight to eat to twice again. That's a big reason I decided to try a solid dinner tonight. He's gotten harder to get down to sleep, wakes up more throughout the night, and wakes up earlier and crankier in the morning than ever before. I'm going to give this No Cry Sleep Solution book one more crack then I'm going Ferber. I don't like it, but this kid hasn't had a decent nights sleep in his life and if I don't do something soon I'm convinced he'll be broken for life.
Overall, things are good though. Orion is gettin big and silly and happy. He's really waking up and growing into himself. Oklahoma is turning out to be pretty fun, as long as you get your ass out of town and experience it. We've gone to corn mazes, petting zoos, and two mountain ranges all in the last two weeks. Up above, that's Orion in his backack hiking in Devils Den in the Ozarks last week. How could I complain with that smile in my grill all the time?
Thursday, September 18, 2008
When the cat's away the mice will...
sleep, evidently.
Anyone who's reading this knows that I have never had the luxury of being one of those snooty new moms who haughtily announces that her baby has been sleeping through the night since six weeks old. I came to terms with that a long time ago, and was satisfied that Orion would go to bed at 7pm, wake up once and take a bottle as we were going to bed around 11pm, and then would wake up again around 3am for another quick snack before sleeping until 8am.
Unfortunately, over the past six weeks or so, that's all gone out the window. He still goes down around 7pm and makes it until 11pm, but then all hell breaks loose. He spends the rest of the night tossing and turning. He's still been taking (at least) one bottle overnight but from 2am until 5:30am he fusses and squirms, needing constant settling. Then at 5:30 he poops, and I'm up for the day because I've gotten up to change him.
But that's me.
With Doombot its a whole 'nuther story. For the first night I was out of town, he did have some trouble getting the baby to sleep. He was starting to early, having picked the Squirrel up from daycare early enough that he missed his last nap then trying to compensate by putting him down for the night at 5:30pm. Yeah, not gonna work. But for the last two nights, he's come about as close to Orion sleeping through the night as I think we're going to see for a while. In bed asleep at 7:00, up at 11:00 for a bottle, then back down sleeping soundly until the 5:30am poop.
It turns out that the magic formula (and in all honesty I've suspected this all along) is that the baby got to lay in bed with him without any contact. He got to lay in my spot with his arms all the way outstretched, with nobody harassing him with all the snuggling and patting that he gets from me. Sorry little ingrate.
The solution is going to be a major pain in the ass. Tomorrow night, we're pulling the full-size crib into the bedroom. We'll take the side off and push it up beside the bed on my side. He'll be safe, close by where I don't have to get up to put him back down in the night, and he won't have to be touched while he sleeps. Maybe we'll be able to recreate Doombot's results.
Anyone who's reading this knows that I have never had the luxury of being one of those snooty new moms who haughtily announces that her baby has been sleeping through the night since six weeks old. I came to terms with that a long time ago, and was satisfied that Orion would go to bed at 7pm, wake up once and take a bottle as we were going to bed around 11pm, and then would wake up again around 3am for another quick snack before sleeping until 8am.
Unfortunately, over the past six weeks or so, that's all gone out the window. He still goes down around 7pm and makes it until 11pm, but then all hell breaks loose. He spends the rest of the night tossing and turning. He's still been taking (at least) one bottle overnight but from 2am until 5:30am he fusses and squirms, needing constant settling. Then at 5:30 he poops, and I'm up for the day because I've gotten up to change him.
But that's me.
With Doombot its a whole 'nuther story. For the first night I was out of town, he did have some trouble getting the baby to sleep. He was starting to early, having picked the Squirrel up from daycare early enough that he missed his last nap then trying to compensate by putting him down for the night at 5:30pm. Yeah, not gonna work. But for the last two nights, he's come about as close to Orion sleeping through the night as I think we're going to see for a while. In bed asleep at 7:00, up at 11:00 for a bottle, then back down sleeping soundly until the 5:30am poop.
It turns out that the magic formula (and in all honesty I've suspected this all along) is that the baby got to lay in bed with him without any contact. He got to lay in my spot with his arms all the way outstretched, with nobody harassing him with all the snuggling and patting that he gets from me. Sorry little ingrate.
The solution is going to be a major pain in the ass. Tomorrow night, we're pulling the full-size crib into the bedroom. We'll take the side off and push it up beside the bed on my side. He'll be safe, close by where I don't have to get up to put him back down in the night, and he won't have to be touched while he sleeps. Maybe we'll be able to recreate Doombot's results.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Rapido! Con no arroz.
I never wanted to have to say this, but Orion is delicate. We worked very hard to strike a balance where he was getting a formula that sat well with him, thickened to a point where he wouldn't aspirate it, coming out of nipple with a hole big enough to fit through without giving him an ear infection but small enough that it didn't give him a tummy ache from eating too fast. This nipple was required to be attached to a bottle that would not give him gas.
After much crying and many sleepless nights for all of of us (come to think of it, we were all doing the crying, also) we came upon the following combination. Nestle Good Start formula, thickened at a ratio of one formula scoop of rice cereal to four ounces of formula, coming out of a Size Three Dr. Brown's Standard Nipple on a BPA free bottle. We were even able to wean him from his reflux meds.
Almost two weeks ago, Orion started to have loose, frequent stools. His reflux was back, with him arching his back and fighting his food. He stopped sleeping well and was cranky and weepy. I was confused though, because suddenly he was eating more at daycare too. It occurred to me that they weren't asking for rice cereal as frequently as it seemed like they should but I figured they were using the community rice, which was fine with me. I never connected these dots. Until today.
Today, we picked Orion up early. They were getting ready to feed him, so they just gave us his bottle to take with us to the real live Pediatrician. We usually leave his bottles there, so I told them I'd bring it back tomorrown.
I noticed right away that the nipple looked kind of funny. Cloudy, and maybe a little fatter and shorter than I recalled. Enough to make me notice, but not different enough to set off any alarms. Once we got settled in the car, I started feeding the baby and formula just came POURING out. He was starving, but he'd just take a couple of gulps then cry and push it away. He'd catch his breath then reach for the bottle again, mouth wide open, only to push it away again when the formula came pouring out the sides of his mouth.
I held up the bottle and saw the word "Rapido" printed on the side of the nipple. What the hell? Orion's nipples don't speak Spanish. I turned it around and saw the word "Fast."
"Mother Fucker!" I yelled from the backseat.
Doombot nearly lost control of the car. "What the hell is wrong back there?"
I'll tell you what was wrong. There was a god damn fast flow Playtex nipple on my Squirrel's carefully selected Dr. Brown bottle. It wasn't even a fast flow nipple that was in good shape. When I pinched the top, it gapped open wider than a (insert off color joke here.) I looked around the car and found a dirty bottle with a size three nipple. The baby was crying his poor little eyes out and I contemplated ways to get the nipple clean. I decided to wait until we got to the Dr. and clean it there where I could get soap and hot water. Orion would just have to suck on my knuckles until then.
Doombot asked to see the bottle. He swished it around and said, "I hate to piss you off even more, but there's obviously no rice in here." He was right. No rice.
We went through with the Dr. visit, but I'm now certain what was going on all along. Either because they wanted him to eat faster or because of total carelessness, some daycare girl has put the wrong nipple on Orion's bottle and collectively the daycare brain-trust has forgotten to put rice in his bottles.
That's why his reflux has come back and he had to restart his meds. His formula was too thin. That's why his tummy hurts. He's eating too fast. And that's why he has diarrea. His solid/liquid ratio is different than he's used to.
I still think its a good daycare. Each of the girls really seems to care about Orion and wants the best for him. I just think they're spread too thin, got disorganized, and forgot. I'll straighten them out tomorrow and all will be well.
But I'll tell you what. One more fuck up like this and they will rue the day they crossed Mama Squirrel.
After much crying and many sleepless nights for all of of us (come to think of it, we were all doing the crying, also) we came upon the following combination. Nestle Good Start formula, thickened at a ratio of one formula scoop of rice cereal to four ounces of formula, coming out of a Size Three Dr. Brown's Standard Nipple on a BPA free bottle. We were even able to wean him from his reflux meds.
Almost two weeks ago, Orion started to have loose, frequent stools. His reflux was back, with him arching his back and fighting his food. He stopped sleeping well and was cranky and weepy. I was confused though, because suddenly he was eating more at daycare too. It occurred to me that they weren't asking for rice cereal as frequently as it seemed like they should but I figured they were using the community rice, which was fine with me. I never connected these dots. Until today.
Today, we picked Orion up early. They were getting ready to feed him, so they just gave us his bottle to take with us to the real live Pediatrician. We usually leave his bottles there, so I told them I'd bring it back tomorrown.
I noticed right away that the nipple looked kind of funny. Cloudy, and maybe a little fatter and shorter than I recalled. Enough to make me notice, but not different enough to set off any alarms. Once we got settled in the car, I started feeding the baby and formula just came POURING out. He was starving, but he'd just take a couple of gulps then cry and push it away. He'd catch his breath then reach for the bottle again, mouth wide open, only to push it away again when the formula came pouring out the sides of his mouth.
I held up the bottle and saw the word "Rapido" printed on the side of the nipple. What the hell? Orion's nipples don't speak Spanish. I turned it around and saw the word "Fast."
"Mother Fucker!" I yelled from the backseat.
Doombot nearly lost control of the car. "What the hell is wrong back there?"
I'll tell you what was wrong. There was a god damn fast flow Playtex nipple on my Squirrel's carefully selected Dr. Brown bottle. It wasn't even a fast flow nipple that was in good shape. When I pinched the top, it gapped open wider than a (insert off color joke here.) I looked around the car and found a dirty bottle with a size three nipple. The baby was crying his poor little eyes out and I contemplated ways to get the nipple clean. I decided to wait until we got to the Dr. and clean it there where I could get soap and hot water. Orion would just have to suck on my knuckles until then.
Doombot asked to see the bottle. He swished it around and said, "I hate to piss you off even more, but there's obviously no rice in here." He was right. No rice.
We went through with the Dr. visit, but I'm now certain what was going on all along. Either because they wanted him to eat faster or because of total carelessness, some daycare girl has put the wrong nipple on Orion's bottle and collectively the daycare brain-trust has forgotten to put rice in his bottles.
That's why his reflux has come back and he had to restart his meds. His formula was too thin. That's why his tummy hurts. He's eating too fast. And that's why he has diarrea. His solid/liquid ratio is different than he's used to.
I still think its a good daycare. Each of the girls really seems to care about Orion and wants the best for him. I just think they're spread too thin, got disorganized, and forgot. I'll straighten them out tomorrow and all will be well.
But I'll tell you what. One more fuck up like this and they will rue the day they crossed Mama Squirrel.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Sleep or Death!
Orion is a really crappy sleeper and its noones fault but mine. Since he was born, we've used a combination of the Pack n Play/Co-sleeper in our room and the "family bed" for all of our sleeping needs. The little tyrant has also required that he be allowed to fall asleep on the bottle and that he not be moved until he is fully asleep.
He wakes once a night for a full feeding. I could live with that, if not for the 30 other times he wakes up to do a little bit of sucking and to have his position changed. Next thing you know he's going to be making me wipe his ass for him. Speaking of which, during The Intestinal Distress of September 2008 the sleeping has gotten even worse.
I get that he's just a baby, but this shit is not acceptable. I've bought some books and learned that I can teach him to get back to sleep on his own with no crying. I can't do the whole cry-it-out thing. The jury is out for me on whether or not its always cruel, but I just don't have the constitution for it.
I am taking action though. He's back on his reflux meds, which was a no brainer. But the big news is that Doombot has finally agreed to let me move him to the crib. He's currently taking his second nap in his very own crib in his very own room. I even rocked him until he was drowsy and then laid him down. Then I sang to him until he fell asleep. No bottle, people! Do you know what this means?
No? Neither do I, to tell the truth. But the Book says that its important. We'll see what happens tonight, because if I don't get some sleep soon I think I'm gonna die.
He wakes once a night for a full feeding. I could live with that, if not for the 30 other times he wakes up to do a little bit of sucking and to have his position changed. Next thing you know he's going to be making me wipe his ass for him. Speaking of which, during The Intestinal Distress of September 2008 the sleeping has gotten even worse.
I get that he's just a baby, but this shit is not acceptable. I've bought some books and learned that I can teach him to get back to sleep on his own with no crying. I can't do the whole cry-it-out thing. The jury is out for me on whether or not its always cruel, but I just don't have the constitution for it.
I am taking action though. He's back on his reflux meds, which was a no brainer. But the big news is that Doombot has finally agreed to let me move him to the crib. He's currently taking his second nap in his very own crib in his very own room. I even rocked him until he was drowsy and then laid him down. Then I sang to him until he fell asleep. No bottle, people! Do you know what this means?
No? Neither do I, to tell the truth. But the Book says that its important. We'll see what happens tonight, because if I don't get some sleep soon I think I'm gonna die.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
God Bless Dr. Sears
OK. The sleep book was horse shit. I don't need to pay $20 for a book to tell me to get over myself if my baby doesn't sleep through the night. Yeah, he's hungry. I get it. Why don't you send someone on over to feed him for me. I'll give you another $20. What? Where are you going???
But the website. Ahhhhhh. The website. When I go to Dr. Google and frantically type in some search term, like tonight's "infant loose stool", and the first link up is to Dr. Sears' site it's like someone has thrown me a life raft. I just want to give every single one of those damn Dr. Searses a great big sloppy kiss.
Dr. Sears tells me I'm not crazy (unlike Doombot). Dr. Sears tells me that its ok to love my baby so much I'm in tears because he's got diarrhea (while the baby giggles at me because it doesn't bother him a bit). Dr. Sears tells me some shit I can do to feel like I'm helping (Give him some live and active cultures!) Dr. Sears even tells me all of this for free.
Unlike Dr. Opium Den, who charged me fifteen bucks.
Squirrel School called at about 3:30 this afternoon, to the shock of absolutely no one, to tell me I needed to come get him. In all actuality, the "three loose poop" alarm clock went off about four hours later than I had expected. I was just glad to have gotten most of a work day in. See, Orion has been pooping soup for four days now. He doesn't seem dehydratedm and when he's not fighting sleep because his tummy hurts, he's laughing non-stop. He's eating less than normal, but I kept thinking it would just go away. But today, Squirrel School forced my hand.
We've only been in OKC a month, so we don't have a pediatrician yet. I was gonna need a Dr. note to be able to get back to work tomorrow, so I set about looking for a walk-in clinic. What I found was awful. I would rather have had Orion treated in the bathroom from Trainspotting.
First, it stunk like old food and cigarettes. Never a good sign in a Dr. office. Then the 9-volt battery in the infant scale was dead and they couldn't find another one. So, we did the next best thing:
Step 1: Weigh Mom Holding the Baby
Step 2: Round Combined Weight Down to Nearest Five Pound Mark
Step 3: Ask Mom How Much She Weighs For Subtraction Purposes
Step 4: Sigh Loudly When Mom Doesn't Know
Step 5: Weigh Mom Alone For Subtraction Purposes, Rounding Up to Nearest Five Pounds
The oh-so-accurate result? Orion has evidently lost 3lbs in the last month.
After we established that my baby weighed somewhere between fifteen and twenty pounds the examination began. The Dr. told me to feed nothing but Pedialyte for 24 hours, then changed his mind. He told me that there was nothing wrong, and told me how to cure constipation. I'll have to keep that in mind, asshole.
I got my daycare release and left.
By two hours later I was in tears. I KNEW there was something wrong with the squirrel but I didn't know what to do about it. I came home and asked the BabyCenter ladies with no luck. Desperate, I turned to Dr. Google.
Dr. Sears had me switch to soy formula, mixed 50/50 with Pedialyte. Doombot ran out and got it. One bottle and Orion was out. At least I feel like I'm doing something.
But the website. Ahhhhhh. The website. When I go to Dr. Google and frantically type in some search term, like tonight's "infant loose stool", and the first link up is to Dr. Sears' site it's like someone has thrown me a life raft. I just want to give every single one of those damn Dr. Searses a great big sloppy kiss.
Dr. Sears tells me I'm not crazy (unlike Doombot). Dr. Sears tells me that its ok to love my baby so much I'm in tears because he's got diarrhea (while the baby giggles at me because it doesn't bother him a bit). Dr. Sears tells me some shit I can do to feel like I'm helping (Give him some live and active cultures!) Dr. Sears even tells me all of this for free.
Unlike Dr. Opium Den, who charged me fifteen bucks.
Squirrel School called at about 3:30 this afternoon, to the shock of absolutely no one, to tell me I needed to come get him. In all actuality, the "three loose poop" alarm clock went off about four hours later than I had expected. I was just glad to have gotten most of a work day in. See, Orion has been pooping soup for four days now. He doesn't seem dehydratedm and when he's not fighting sleep because his tummy hurts, he's laughing non-stop. He's eating less than normal, but I kept thinking it would just go away. But today, Squirrel School forced my hand.
We've only been in OKC a month, so we don't have a pediatrician yet. I was gonna need a Dr. note to be able to get back to work tomorrow, so I set about looking for a walk-in clinic. What I found was awful. I would rather have had Orion treated in the bathroom from Trainspotting.
First, it stunk like old food and cigarettes. Never a good sign in a Dr. office. Then the 9-volt battery in the infant scale was dead and they couldn't find another one. So, we did the next best thing:
Step 1: Weigh Mom Holding the Baby
Step 2: Round Combined Weight Down to Nearest Five Pound Mark
Step 3: Ask Mom How Much She Weighs For Subtraction Purposes
Step 4: Sigh Loudly When Mom Doesn't Know
Step 5: Weigh Mom Alone For Subtraction Purposes, Rounding Up to Nearest Five Pounds
The oh-so-accurate result? Orion has evidently lost 3lbs in the last month.
After we established that my baby weighed somewhere between fifteen and twenty pounds the examination began. The Dr. told me to feed nothing but Pedialyte for 24 hours, then changed his mind. He told me that there was nothing wrong, and told me how to cure constipation. I'll have to keep that in mind, asshole.
I got my daycare release and left.
By two hours later I was in tears. I KNEW there was something wrong with the squirrel but I didn't know what to do about it. I came home and asked the BabyCenter ladies with no luck. Desperate, I turned to Dr. Google.
Dr. Sears had me switch to soy formula, mixed 50/50 with Pedialyte. Doombot ran out and got it. One bottle and Orion was out. At least I feel like I'm doing something.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Bad Mama
Woops!!!!!!
Ha ha! I got your attention didn't I.
Before I begin, let me first explain my extended blogging hiatus. I've moved from Florida to Oklahoma, bought a new house, and started a new job. It's been crazy, and blogging has been the least of my problems.
With that out of the way, lets talk about breast feeding for a little bit, shall we?
When Orion was born, he didn't latch for shit. Well, he'd latch then let go after just one or two slurps. The lacatation consultants in my shitty ass hospital didn't offer any advice more helpful than keep trying. Then they'd make a patty out of my boob, shove it in my screaming newborn's cryhole and shake their heads like I was somehow defective. What I wish I'd known at the time was that I had overactive letdown. Yes...immediately after he was born I was already in such awesome shape production-wise that I was squirting milk forcibly down his little confused throat. We kept trying though, and my boy who was born so big and healthy was barely allowed to leave the hospital for his weight gain and jaundice. Looking back, if I hadn't taken them up on the offer to be discharged a day early he probably would have gone to the NICU.
With that much force to my colostrum, you should be able to imagine how forcible my letdown was when my milk actually came in. I'll never forget waking up in the middle of the night on our first night home from the hospital with my breasts so hard that my nipples were stretched so flat that there was nothing at all for Orion to latch to. He was furious and starving, so Doombot went to the cabinet for one of the ready-to-feed Enfamil bottles that had come in the mail. While he snuggled and fed our newborn, I huddled over the free Avent bottle that came with our baby registry and hand expressed a full four ounces of milk. Barely enough to make me comfortable. This set up the next 10 weeks of our lives.
My letdown never got any better, and once I'd seen the rapturous look in my baby's face as he was snuggled and drank from the bottle it was hard to even consider making him go through the alternative again. The figting, spraying, and screaming seemed like far to high a price to be paid for all of the additional benefits that come from nursing. We settled into a predictable pattern. I would pump while Doombot delivered the bottles. When he was at work, I would pump while Orion slept. Feeding him was a full time job for the whole family. I was constantly feeding, pumping, packaging, thawing, and sterilizing. Parenthood turned in to a death march.
I made multiple attmepts to move him to formula. In those bleak days, all I knew was that I wanted to be enjoying my baby and we were both miserable. Him from terrible silent reflux, and me from endless days and nights hooked to the pump. All of my efforts were failing. Each time we tried formula he would become terribly constipated. I could not win for losing.
Then, all at once, a few things came together to make it imperitive that we make the switch. Some of the decisions I stand by today, some I am ashamed of. Let me explain.
I have already detailed the issues we faced with Orion's laryngomalacia on this blog. We discovered that his reflux was being aggrivated by a combination of that and a potential sensitivity to something in my diet (more on that later) and that he was aspirating his milk. We had two options. Feed him thickened formula, or face swallow tests, MRI's, and the potential of feeding tubes. I must remind myself that none of these things could have been avoided by my diet changes alone.
The second thing that happened is that I became totally addicted to Reese's Peanut Butter cups. That sounds like an exaggeration, but I swear to you it is not. I don't drink. I don't smoke. I don't do drugs. Food is my self-medication of choice, and those were some dark days. I began binging on peanut butter cups to a point where I probably should have gotten some professional help. Yeah, it sounds stupid to me when I write it too. The only part that isn't funny is that all those peanut butter cups turned Orion's poop dark orange and mucousy. It's embarassing to say so now but rather than showing me that I should lay off the smack, I was convinced it was a sign that it was time to force the formula issue.
I could have modified my diet (it sounds so much nicer that way, doesn't it?) and thickened the breast milk. I could have seen a lacation consultant earlier. I could have kept pumping. There's lots of things I should have done first.
Today, though! Today! Orion is growing strong. Sometimes he's so happy when he's eating that he can't suck because he's smiling so big. I get to feed him my self. I have time to play with him during the brief period of time between the end of work and his bed time. His diapers are healthy. He hasn't had a single reflux symptom in 9 weeks. Is it a coincidence that he screamed through the last bottle of breast milk he ate? I never hear the rattle in his chest anymore that used to tell me that he'd aspirated milk.
Here's what I know:
1. If I'd nursed him, the milk would have been too thin. His reflux would have been miserable and he'd be prone to pneumonia from the aspiration.
2. If I'd modified my diet, I still would have had to thicken my breast milk.
3. If I'd thickened my milk, I still would have had to use my spare time to pump.
4. If I'd used my spare time to pump, I never would have had the relationship I have today with my squirrel.
The babycenter blogs have some kind of breastfeeding blitz going on right now, and they're making me feel like shit. In the past few days, I've read up on relactation and priced new manual pumps (did you know Dr. Brown's makes one now!). I just don't know at this point if it's even a good idea to try.
Ha ha! I got your attention didn't I.
Before I begin, let me first explain my extended blogging hiatus. I've moved from Florida to Oklahoma, bought a new house, and started a new job. It's been crazy, and blogging has been the least of my problems.
With that out of the way, lets talk about breast feeding for a little bit, shall we?
When Orion was born, he didn't latch for shit. Well, he'd latch then let go after just one or two slurps. The lacatation consultants in my shitty ass hospital didn't offer any advice more helpful than keep trying. Then they'd make a patty out of my boob, shove it in my screaming newborn's cryhole and shake their heads like I was somehow defective. What I wish I'd known at the time was that I had overactive letdown. Yes...immediately after he was born I was already in such awesome shape production-wise that I was squirting milk forcibly down his little confused throat. We kept trying though, and my boy who was born so big and healthy was barely allowed to leave the hospital for his weight gain and jaundice. Looking back, if I hadn't taken them up on the offer to be discharged a day early he probably would have gone to the NICU.
With that much force to my colostrum, you should be able to imagine how forcible my letdown was when my milk actually came in. I'll never forget waking up in the middle of the night on our first night home from the hospital with my breasts so hard that my nipples were stretched so flat that there was nothing at all for Orion to latch to. He was furious and starving, so Doombot went to the cabinet for one of the ready-to-feed Enfamil bottles that had come in the mail. While he snuggled and fed our newborn, I huddled over the free Avent bottle that came with our baby registry and hand expressed a full four ounces of milk. Barely enough to make me comfortable. This set up the next 10 weeks of our lives.
My letdown never got any better, and once I'd seen the rapturous look in my baby's face as he was snuggled and drank from the bottle it was hard to even consider making him go through the alternative again. The figting, spraying, and screaming seemed like far to high a price to be paid for all of the additional benefits that come from nursing. We settled into a predictable pattern. I would pump while Doombot delivered the bottles. When he was at work, I would pump while Orion slept. Feeding him was a full time job for the whole family. I was constantly feeding, pumping, packaging, thawing, and sterilizing. Parenthood turned in to a death march.
I made multiple attmepts to move him to formula. In those bleak days, all I knew was that I wanted to be enjoying my baby and we were both miserable. Him from terrible silent reflux, and me from endless days and nights hooked to the pump. All of my efforts were failing. Each time we tried formula he would become terribly constipated. I could not win for losing.
Then, all at once, a few things came together to make it imperitive that we make the switch. Some of the decisions I stand by today, some I am ashamed of. Let me explain.
I have already detailed the issues we faced with Orion's laryngomalacia on this blog. We discovered that his reflux was being aggrivated by a combination of that and a potential sensitivity to something in my diet (more on that later) and that he was aspirating his milk. We had two options. Feed him thickened formula, or face swallow tests, MRI's, and the potential of feeding tubes. I must remind myself that none of these things could have been avoided by my diet changes alone.
The second thing that happened is that I became totally addicted to Reese's Peanut Butter cups. That sounds like an exaggeration, but I swear to you it is not. I don't drink. I don't smoke. I don't do drugs. Food is my self-medication of choice, and those were some dark days. I began binging on peanut butter cups to a point where I probably should have gotten some professional help. Yeah, it sounds stupid to me when I write it too. The only part that isn't funny is that all those peanut butter cups turned Orion's poop dark orange and mucousy. It's embarassing to say so now but rather than showing me that I should lay off the smack, I was convinced it was a sign that it was time to force the formula issue.
I could have modified my diet (it sounds so much nicer that way, doesn't it?) and thickened the breast milk. I could have seen a lacation consultant earlier. I could have kept pumping. There's lots of things I should have done first.
Today, though! Today! Orion is growing strong. Sometimes he's so happy when he's eating that he can't suck because he's smiling so big. I get to feed him my self. I have time to play with him during the brief period of time between the end of work and his bed time. His diapers are healthy. He hasn't had a single reflux symptom in 9 weeks. Is it a coincidence that he screamed through the last bottle of breast milk he ate? I never hear the rattle in his chest anymore that used to tell me that he'd aspirated milk.
Here's what I know:
1. If I'd nursed him, the milk would have been too thin. His reflux would have been miserable and he'd be prone to pneumonia from the aspiration.
2. If I'd modified my diet, I still would have had to thicken my breast milk.
3. If I'd thickened my milk, I still would have had to use my spare time to pump.
4. If I'd used my spare time to pump, I never would have had the relationship I have today with my squirrel.
The babycenter blogs have some kind of breastfeeding blitz going on right now, and they're making me feel like shit. In the past few days, I've read up on relactation and priced new manual pumps (did you know Dr. Brown's makes one now!). I just don't know at this point if it's even a good idea to try.
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