Real Motherhood: Not a Pro

I'm not good at mom stuff.

When I was first getting into the swing of being a mom, I heard a lot of comments that exclaimed, "Don't worry, you'll be a pro in no time!"

Well, lovely sentiment. But the truth is, almost two years into this motherhood thing, I'm not a pro.

Here are 5 reasons:

1. I can't change a baby facing the 'wrong' direction. Her head has to be on my left.

And I've TRIED putting these blasted cloth ones on her standing up,
and that doesn't work for me at all.
(Yes, even the velcro ones.)

2. I still have trouble buckling her into the carseat from the left side. I'm a bit better with her convertible carseat but her infant one? I just could not do it.

3. I never was able to nurse a baby and do the dishes or cook dinner. It sounds unsafe anyway. Maybe I'll get a sling for the next bambino and figure it out. But eh, that sounds like a pain.

For 16 months, I sat down and used this freakin' pillow to nurse my kid!

4. I still don't have eyes in the back of my head. (Maybe those will develop in the next few years?)

5. I have not sprouted 4 more arms. I drop things. Constantly. Still clumsy ol' me.

Also, more currently, I cannot figure out how to get my child to nap every day, can't figure out what to feed her (she got even more picky in the past month, and the only vegetable she has eaten has been spinach in a smoothie), and can't get her to sit on the potty very much any more--only when poop is actively coming out of her butt. Why has everything gotten harder??!

However, 2 things I am a pro at? Being able to get this baby carrier on my back with no help:

It ain't pretty, but I can do it

And pulling my hair out on a regular basis. Because toddlers, that's why.

Our Weaning Story

In honor of World Breastfeeding Week (which apparently ended yesterday, but I'm traveling so oh well), I'm finally going to share our weaning story.

I have already written a bit about some of the trials we had in the early days of our breastfeeding journey--see here, here, and here. After hearing lots of different breastfeeding stories from other moms, I have basically decided that those who are successful at it are either lucky or persistent. I unfortunately fell into the "persistent" category initially, but I also ended up lucky (no tongue tie, no reflux, no milk allergies, etc.)

So back to our journey. After we got into a groove, breastfeeding went along fabulously. We started table food, nursed in public both with and without a cover, and all was well. Cora never really 'asked' to nurse, so around 9-10 months we fell into a schedule of 4 sessions a day. We ended up sleep training at 11.5 months, after a month of middle-of-the-night-won't-go-back-to-sleep-after-nursing issues. We never did and still don't co-sleep, and I have no regrets on that.

After Cora turned a year old, I had planned to wean. I was never one of those people that thought I would nurse through the toddler years. I reveled in our sleep training success, I bought some whole milk, and we dropped her second feed of the day (the one after her morning nap). She had no problems with it, and drank it out of a sippy cup like a champ.

This was just after she turned a year old. I used that MBF pillow all the way to the end!

A week later, we dropped the third feed. This left me nursing her just after she woke up and right before we did her bedtime routine. And that's where I stalled out. My mothering attachment emotions got the best of me, and I decided we didn't need to fully wean so soon. We stayed on that partial wean for a few months, and it was seriously the best of both worlds. I loved that I could leave her with Daddy all day and not have to worry about her, but I still got my breastfeeding cuddles to start and end the day.

Around the 15-month mark, I decided to drop the morning feed. I always thought that would be the last one to go, but for whatever reason, it just worked out better. My boobs were fine with it, too. So then Cora was on once-a-day pre-bedtime nursing. She was beginning to revert to a newborn-style of nursing, in that she would either fall asleep on the boob or just not want to be taken off, ever. I realized after a bit that it was just the best time for us to end it. I also had some physical issues of my own that couldn't be fixed until she was weaned (feel free to ask me about that privately, kinda TMI for the blog).

Just after Cora had turned 16 months, B and I had plans for a night out. It was more business than pleasure (not exactly a date night), but we got his aunt and uncle to babysit Cora that night. I decided that the night before would be the last day of our breastfeeding relationship.

So on May 29, 2013, when Cora was 16 months and 3 days old, just over 2 years after I found out I was pregnant, Cora and I had our final nursing session. I was a bit sad about it, and had B take a few pictures of us to commemorate the occasion.

Final nursing session

I think there is something special about nursing your first baby, since you can give them soooo much attention. I haven't had a second kid yet, but I'm betting that there will be a lot more hollering over his head or walking around and doing stuff while nursing than with the first. (I'm already looking into ring slings!)

I'm thankful that I ended up having such a positive breastfeeding experience with Cora. I never would have considered myself a "pro" at it--I still had to fix her latch half the time even at the end, and there's no way I ever could have cooked dinner or done the dishes while nursing--but she is healthy and happy, so I think I did pretty good.

My view :-)

One Year Ago

Cora turned 13 months old today.

Throughout this past month, I have been reflecting on my first postpartum month. To be honest with you, it was hell. From a long hospital stay--I went into labor on a Wednesday and didn't leave until Sunday--to issues with my postpartum care nurses and lactation 'help,' it didn't start off so great.  I couldn't stand up for more than 5 minutes at a time without wetting myself those first few weeks, and I had a hard time envisioning the day I could run a mile again. I also didn't fall madly in love with my baby right away, and often I thought other people were more excited about her than I would ever be. It's a hard road to walk when multiple voices are telling you to "Enjoy every moment!" but you find yourself hardly enjoying any of them. In fact, those first few nights home, I sobbed myself to sleep, enveloped in a combination of crazy hormones, fear of SIDS, and general "what the heck have we done? my whole life has changed overnight!" pangs.

But a year ago today was a turning point. We had been having breastfeeding issues. Cora had regained her birth weight at 3 weeks (yes, late) and then lost weight on the next check at 4 weeks. I was annoyed with the way the Family Practice doctor I got stuck with at the Naval Hospital was treating us (he was not lactation-friendly), and I had been trying to switch to a real Pediatrician. The corpsmen in Family Practice were not consistent in their practices, sometimes weighing her with diaper on, sometimes off. After the weight issue, I finally got to see the Lactation Consultant down in the Pediatric office, who was very reassuring and gave me some great advice on increasing supply. It involved some Fenugreek and losing a lot of sleep to basically pump and nurse my supply up. Those tips were great, but they also caused a small side effect: I was going insane, mostly from the lack of sleep. And to be honest, my husband was not very supportive of me continuing to do something that made me so miserable. I cried. A lot.

And then last year, on Sunday, February 26th, I sat in church and made a decision. It was the first Sunday of Lent, and we sat all they way in the back of the church (even though we're usually front-church people) because I didn't want to draw attention to my nursing baby. I wasn't actually afraid of nursing in public, but I was just ashamed that I wasn't doing it 'properly.' (I had to fix my baby's latch every time and also was doing compressions because, hey, that's what was sort of working.) I was starting to nod off due to exhaustion as the priest was giving the usual "Pick a Lenten Sacrifice" homily, but I was awake enough to follow some of it. I somehow got a jolt of energy, and right then and there I decided something. I decided I would stick this nursing thing out until Easter. If I was still in tears every other day on Easter, I would give it up. I remember having so much clarity at the precise moment of that decision.

Since I was emotionally a wreck that day, my baby's one-month milestone was forgotten. I actually don't have a single picture of her from that entire week. That is also the reason why the elephant-chair pictures don't start until 2 months. I truly regret letting that happen.

If I could go back in time and change a few things about that first month, I would. But what's done is done, and I'm not going to dwell on it right now. Some good things did come out of it, though. My labor and delivery were not disappointing to me at all, since I met my goal of avoiding the C-section (even though that meant 3 hours of pushing). The extra day in the hospital presented me with a nurse who helped me with breastfeeding more than she could ever know (she sat me in a chair! we used my nursing pillow! the baby latched!). Changing doctors showed me that I really do know how to stick up for myself and my baby.  I learned how a lack of sleep can affect me emotionally and how I turn into a train wreck when it happens. (I got screened by two different counselors for PPD, and I wasn't diagnosed with it, as it all just hinged on a lack of sleep.) We plan on having at least one more baby, and there are many things I will know going into it that will hopefully help me.

As for the breastfeeding, it obviously got better. My supply leveled out before Easter of last year, and I think I was even off the Fenugreek by that time.  Currently, I still breastfeed Cora twice a day (at waking and right before she gets in her pajamas), and those are some of my favorite times. I had a 4-week weaning plan that I threw out the window last week.

I also have truly fallen in love with my baby over the last 13 months.  She lights up my world with her laughter, and I could listen to her babbling all day without tiring of it. My baby has brought so much joy to our household, and I think I fall in love with her each day over and over again.

Whenever I hear new moms having a hard time (and those first months are very hard times), all I can say is . . . it gets better.

So much better.

7 Quick Takes (Love and Fasting Edition)

--- 1 ---

Happy Lent everyone! Oh, and was there some lovey-dovey Hallmark holiday yesterday? There might have been . . . sure couldn't tell in our house though.

--- 2 ---

That's a lie. Sort of. Cora and I gave B a card and some gummi bears, and we picked up a pizza for dinner. She wore a cute "Daddy's Little Sweetheart" shirt. In return, we got . . . nothin'.  I'm not kidding. B said we'll get something some time this weekend. Who is the overly frugal one in this house again? (Okay okay, he did say he's taking us to a basketball game at the local college tomorrow, and I told him I wouldn't mind some half-price flowers.) This is one of the first years that one of us wasn't either sick or absent for this day, so we don't have any standing traditions.

Ever been photo-bombed by a stuffed octopus?

--- 3 ---

I figure now is a good time to make a formal declaration of my Lenten sacrifice. I am giving up the computer on Wednesdays. I can check stuff on my Kindle (hey, sometimes I need a recipe!), but no computer. I'm trying to read all of the books of the Bible I've never read before during that time. Or, y'know, clean the house, watch a movie, become an official Indiana resident, or do something other than fritter away my time in a distracted way with 20 tabs open simultaneously.

On Ash Wednesday, I read two chapters of Joshua (could. not. focus.), a few chapters of some other book, and watched the Disney version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame (hadn't seen it before). We also made it to mass!

B and I also joined a small faith community (that only meets for Lent) through our church. We'll see how this goes. I married a true military man who loathes "talking about his feelings," so I had to convince him to do this. It's his Lenten sacrifice, officially.

--- 4 ---

I started weaning Cora two weeks ago. It's going well. We're down to nursing twice a day (morning and evening), with a sippy cup of milk at lunch and a little bit as an afternoon snack. I was planning to have her fully weaned by 13 months, but now I think I'm going to hang on to the morning nursing session for kicks and giggles . . . so all you toddler-nursing lactivists can drop the pitchforks already. Maybe we'll drop it at 15 months or so.

I had never really taken a picture of us nursing, but I want to remember it so I asked B to take one the other day.

Yes, yes, I still use the My Brest Friend pillow my sister gave me. That thing is the bomb dot com (do people still say that? guess so since I just did). Our couch is overly squishy with no support, so it helps a lot. It also fits in the glider really well so she doesn't bash her head on the wooden part of the armrest.

--- 5 ---

B thought it was odd I wanted a nursing picture. I retorted, "I've done this every day for the past year and have no picture of it!" He gave me a look that, without words, said, "Um, you've brushed your teeth and taken a shower every day for the past year and didn't take a picture." Since I knew what his look meant, I then said the words aloud. And he laughed.

--- 6 ---

Speaking of B, he has been addicted to "Harlem Shake" videos for over a week now. He officially introduced me to them two days before I started seeing them everywhere. Even Kelly & Michael did it on their show on Tuesday!  I'm not a big fan of the original video because it's just weird. But I love this one from my college's Swim & Dive team!

--- 7 ---

Somebody had fun on Fat Tuesday.

And she didn't even have to lift her shirt.

For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!

our ups and downs with breastfeeding: part 2

This is the second part of a series. You can read the first part here.

The first few sleep-deprived weeks were rough, but then it started to fall into place. So much so that I even had a semi-epiphany about how very cool it was that my body was producing everything my baby needed to live!

Well, apparently, I thought this too soon. My baby had finally regained her birth weight a few days after her 2-week checkup (a bit late, but I was happy about it). I got another weight check at the 4 week mark just to make sure, and she had lost almost 10 ounces! I was freaking out at the clinic. The family practice doctor she was seeing (whom I hadn't been fond of since the 2-week check) immediately said to supplement with formula. I asked him about using my freezer stash of breast milk to supplement, and he just stared at me blankly. I called the Lactation Consultant in tears that night and refused to give her formula just yet. We gave her some extra pumped milk that night. I also decided to switch her back to the Pediatric clinic (we get to choose here, and I'm quite grateful for that).

I went in the next day to do a weight check with the LC, and Cora had gained a few ounces back. I was advised to pump for the next 24 hours and feed her bottles so that we could assess if my supply was too low. I did that, and yeah, it was on the low side. The LC had me supplement her with an ounce of formula and/or expressed milk after each feeding while I started taking an herbal supplement called fenugreek to boost my supply. The fenugreek was amazing and worked within a few days! We weight-checked her again a few times that week, and she was doing much better.

This all is the reason I never got a picture when she was 4 weeks old, which means I also didn't get a one-month picture. The day she turned a month old, all I did was nurse her and cry. I don't think I even realized what day it was. Sleep deprivation can really do a number on your emotions, especially when you're still combating some baby blues.

I think it was that same day that was the first Sunday of Lent. I sat in the pew at church (nursing her, probably) and decided then and there that I was gonna tough this out until Easter. I made a pact with myself and later announced it to my husband that if by Easter I was still in tears every other day because of breastfeeding, I would stop.

Why was I so determined? I know breastmilk is "best for baby," but formula has come a long way. I was formula-fed myself, and I never get sick, and I don't think it has affected me in any terrible way. B was breastfed for six months and has suffered allergies all his life. Breast milk is not the be-all end-all that some of the books would have you believe, obviously. (And it's beyond genetics for me, as my sister never gets sick either and she was adopted.)

But for me, it probably comes back to one thing. MONEY. This is how my mind works. Feeding my baby is free. It's also really nice to always have food for my baby wherever I go. One of my other reasons was that if I could master it with the first child, I figured the subsequent ones will be much easier. I had noticed among friends and acquaintances that it was very hard for them to breastfeed a second child if they had formula-fed the first. Those first few weeks of nursing are so hard that if you're comfortable with the alternative, it is really really appealing to switch!!

If you haven't guessed yet, I made it to Easter! And weeks beyond now. I actually had almost forgot about that pact with myself by the time Easter rolled around, but I was talking to someone about the low supply issue and it came back to me. I was able to sorta wean myself off of taking Fenugreek a week before that, and it seems like my body is doing what it's supposed to now. Hooray for womanhood, right?

Well, I did get a plugged duct during our road trip, but that worked itself out really easily, so I'm gonna call that a non-issue for now. A non-issue that I hope doesn't happen again.

our ups and downs with breastfeeding: part 1

I have so much to say on this topic that I had to split it up!  Here's part one.

I won't lie, I was pretty intimidated about breastfeeding, mostly because of looking at illustrations like this one:

That just looked painful to me! (But now I know that it's not.)

I don't really like being touched, so the though of my nipple being shoved back in my baby's mouth kinda freaked me out.  But I also knew it was something I wanted to do.  Actually, when people asked, I said I was going to "try."  I had known so many people who gave it a shot and then gave it up after a few weeks.  I knew there would be roadblocks, so much so that a friend convinced me to attend La Leche Leaguemeetings while still pregnant.

So I did.  That first meeting, I wasn't completely enthralled by this group of crunchy co-sleeping mommas, but I finally got the opportunity to see someone breastfeed without a blanket covering them.  I had never actually seen it before.  In retrospect, I wish I would have asked one of those nursing mothers if I could just sit next to her and really observe it instead of simply pretending not to spy on her.

I did a few other things to prepare (read a book, went to the class at the hospital), but I still had no idea what I was in for.  Learning to breastfeed in the hospital was rough for me.  I was already exhausted from being awake for over 24 hours straight (3 of those actively pushing), and now I had to figure out this whole new world.  The nurses propped up some pillows around me in such a way that I couldn't figure out how to do it on my own when they weren't around.  They told me I had to feed her every 2-3 hours, but all I wanted to do was sleep.

Finally, at one point, B went home and brought me back the My Brest Friend pillow that my sister loaned me.  There was a rocker in the hospital room and this one nurse finally came in and set me up there, and it finally clicked.  (I still use that pillow every day!)  By that point, we were actually supplementing at the breast as well because it was day 3 (I stayed an extra day, thank you Tricare), my milk hadn't come in, and my baby was getting very close to losing 10% of her birth weight, which the doctors don't really like.  The syringe supplementing devices were great, and they even sent me home with a few.

I've lost all but ONE POUND of baby weight!!

My mom, who formula-fed both me and my sister, was actually one of my biggest cheerleaders.  That first week we were home, she would get up with me for those middle-of-the-night feedings, and just talk to me and fetch me water and sometimes food if I was hungry.  She was (and is) super grandma!  My mom never even tried to breastfeed, but I think we both have the same kind of determination.  If I really want to get something done, then by golly, it's gonna happen!  She never once tried to convince me of doing anything differently, and for that I am so grateful.

Some weird/fun things that happened early on were that my feet sweat every time I fed her.  I've always annoyed B with my cold feet and had to put on socks every night, but not those first few postpartum weeks!  I was wearing flip flops every day, and it was February.  (Granted, this is Florida, so that's not too weird here.)

And yes, my breasts hurt those first few weeks, as they were just getting used to all that new work they were doing. Sometimes I absolutely dreaded when baby got hungry, but once I actually had her latched on and nursing, I was basically in the zone.  Whenever I put my nursing pillow around me, it felt like I was putting on a suit of armor!  (I still feel that way sometimes when she wakes at 4am.)

I'm glad I made it through those first painful weeks! In part 2 you'll get to hear about a major setback we had a few weeks later.

baby's first road trip

This past week we embarked on baby Cora's first big adventure!  It was her first time out of the state--I had to think hard about that, actually, because we live so close to the Alabama border--but she conquered quite a big trip for being such a tiny traveler.

We set out on this trip to Indiana to attend B's cousin's wedding.  We left Wednesday afternoon and drove due north, stopping at a hotel in Tennessee.  The next day we arrived at B's family home just north of Indianapolis.  The wedding was in Fort Wayne, which was another 2 hours, and for one night we stayed another hour away at B's family lake house in Michigan.  That makes me exhausted just thinking about it.  (Yes, I'm still recovering!!)

We had to stop about every 3 hours to feed baby as we traveled, but we had a system.  Basically, Cora is the fussiest eater in public when we don't have our comfy pillow set up like we do at home.  She also takes forever to eat and only wants to be held in one specific way which kills my arm.  So I pumped.  In the passenger seat.  We fed her bottles, which she sucks down so quickly that we actually have to pace her.  Yes, it was a pain in the butt rinsing out bottles and pump parts in rest area bathrooms, but it could have been worse (my arm thanks me).  I also became acutely aware of places that didn't have changing tables in their bathrooms (I'm lookin' at you, Burger King).  But once Cora was fed and changed, back she went into the car seat where she usually cried for about 5 minutes or so and then fell asleep.  All in all, a pretty peaceful journey.

And if you're wondering, I absolutely do not agree with the "lean" system that some breastfeeding mothers use.  (They sit in the backseat and lean over the car seat to nurse.)  I don't care if you still have your seat belt on, it's not safe for you or your baby.  Alright, I'll get down from my soapbox now.

Okay, enough about our systems.  Cora has now been to 6 states!  Florida, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, and Michigan.  Soon enough she'll catch up to my 47, right?

Here are some fun pictures from our trip!

Cora in her fancy dress

Cora got to meet all her aunts and uncles on B's side of the family!

4 generations

We met this other baby girl at the reception who is only one day older than Cora!

My fussy baby and me