The End of Nursing

Like I've mentioned before, breastfeeding has been one of the hardest aspects of being a new mom. And almost 5 months in, it continues to be a struggle.

Des and I had a good little rhythm going for a while. It took 6-8 weeks to really get it down. But then it was easy and calm and loving. I grew to truly enjoy that private time we had together as mother and son. At 3 months, I had to go back to work. I was pumping at work and nursing mornings/evenings. Weekends I would nurse all day like before. But the change to our schedules threw our feeding routine off, and Des started refusing me.

One day I popped open my shirt, he looked at the breast (or "the buffet" as it used to be called), turned his head and screamed his head off. Then he tore out my heart and stomped on it. And punched me in the face with his tiny fist. Seriously, a more hurtful rejection I cannot imagine.

Oh, I know he didn't mean it. A bottle is just easier. The boob involves work and time and skill... He was having none of it. This is what is known as a nursing strike. It can happen for a lot of reasons. Ours was caused by the drastic change in schedule, more bottle feedings, and mouth pain from teething. A perfect anti-boob storm.

For two weeks we tried to get him to latch again, exclusively pumping (EPing, as it's called in certain mommy internet circles) and bottle-feeding breastmilk in the meantime. We researched and pulled out all the tricks to get him back on the breast. As the days went on I tried less and less. What was once such a sweet, special time had become frustrating and emotionally painful.

One day Tony came in with Des and said, "He's hungry, do you want to try?" I sighed heavily and thought for a few minutes. I finally said, "Okay. But if it doesn't work, this is it." I needed to not be in limbo anymore. If it wasn't going to work I needed to commit to EPing and be okay with that.

So we tried. And amazingly... he latched. :-)

HALLELUJAH! The heavens opened, angels sang, bells chimed. It was like the first time in the hospital all over again. Joyful tears and proud daddy looking on. He had a full feeding and a big burp after, with that sleepy, satisfied look on his face. I was so excited to be nursing again; I looked forward to every feeding.

Unfortunately, that only lasted about 3 days and he was back to refusing the breast. Sigh... This time it was for good. I couldn't go through it all again. He was still getting the milk he needed, just from a bottle instead of directly from the breast. Really, it's not the end of the world. But at the time, I was devastated. And a part of me still is.

Even more devastating, due to having to rely on the pump, my supply depleted. I was making a little more than half of his daily intake. We had a freezer stash of 250+ ounces of breastmilk. In a matter of weeks, it was gone. And a few days after he turned 4 months, we gave him his first bottle of formula. Daddy gave it to him and I cried in the next room. Such dramatics, I know.. But it really hurt that I couldn't provide my son with everything he needed. Still does.

It's not the ideal situation. But I'm proud to say we made it to 4 months on breastmilk alone. He's a big boy and he's growing so fast. He needs to eat A LOT and I just couldn't keep up. Now he's on about 60% breastmilk, 40% formula... ish. And we'll be starting solids very soon. Every step comes with challenges. We're doing the best we can along the way.

And as my mom always says, "All you can do is the best you can do." I say that to myself almost every day. I'll pass it along to Desmond too.

One Month

Our baby is one month old.

I can't believe how fast the time has flown, and yet it seems as if he has always been here. Life before Desmond is hard to imagine. What did we do with all that time on our hands? Ha!

I'm not going to lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. Going from sleeping 10-11 hours straight a night (thank you, pregnancy) to sleeping in 2-hour intervals randomly throughout the day was an Adjustment of Epic Proportions. Sleep deprivation will mess with you. This is why you need a partner when you have a baby. So that when you wake up in a panic mumbling "The baby's on the bed.. The baby's on the bed!" when he's really sound asleep in the bassinet, your partner can calmly assure you that it's just a wrinkled up sweatshirt, not the baby.

The healing process for me was unexpectedly brutal. Do people not share this information on purpose? Or do they just forget? Maybe they push it out of their minds like images of war, which is what I'm trying to do. I won't go into too much detail. I'll try to put it in a series of single words... Soreness. Blood. Stitches. Swelling. Hemorrhoids. Disposable underwear. Okay, so that last one was 2 words. But you get the idea. For two weeks it hurt to sit, to stand, to walk, to move, to be still, etc. Basically, pushing an 8 lb. 10 oz. beast out of you really effs up your nether regions. But after a month I am feeling almost 100% better in that respect. Thank the lawd.

And still the most challenging hurdle of all... Breastfeeding. I'm sorry to have to describe it as a challenge, as it's supposed to be this beautiful, natural, bonding experience for mother and child. But the word 'hurdle' is a gentle way of putting my experience. I could write a whole big long entry on this topic, but I'll just do another series of single words... Pain. Sores. Scabs. Engorgement. Infection. Tears. Frustration. But almost 5 weeks in, Des and I have a nice little rhythm going. The pain is almost totally gone, my supply has regulated, and I can almost say that breastfeeding is enjoyable now. Almost. Give us another week or two and I'm sure we'll get there. A few weeks ago I was at such a low point with breastfeeding, I almost gave up. I'm so happy that I didn't.

Tony was able to take a full 3 weeks off, which was amazing. We are such a good team. I always knew he'd be a great dad, but to see it in action is so beautiful. I think Tony's bond with Desmond may have been initially stronger than mine. With the previously mentioned challenges I was going through, Tony shouldered a lot of the load with diapers and rocking and helping out in any way he could. Of course now we both can't get enough of the little guy. Tony's back to work and he misses him so much. I constantly send him photos and updates. And when daddy gets home, he scoops Des up and takes over with such joy it brings tears to my eyes.

I don't even want to think about going back to work at this point. I am just truly enjoying these days, soaking in every moment I get to be home with our baby.