Breastfeeding | Goddess in Progress

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History does, and does not, repeat itself

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (24)· April 25th, 2011

Eight weeks and two days. That was when I officially stopped trying to breastfeed my older kids. And that was when I stopped pumping for Ellie.

I first seriously considered stopping about two weeks ago, when my supply officially stopped keeping up and she had her first full formula feed in more than a month. Seeing the color of formula, not a breastmilk combo, in that syringe pump sent me into an initial wave of tears and had me stepping back. It was so demoralizing to spend so much time and effort on pumping when it wasn’t even enough. Eight times a day, 30 minutes at a time, for that scant two ounces, maybe two-and-a-half on a good day. But sheer volume alone wasn’t quite enough to get me to stop. I backed off for a day or so, then stepped back in. I wanted to keep going, even if it wasn’t 100% of her nutrition.

But the final death knell for pumping was the combination of our return to the Big Hospital and the big kids being on spring break. Spending that much time attached to the pump went from “challenging” to “ludicrous.” It stopped making sense. I was taking literally hours away from all three of my kids to do it, and was being rewarded with a slowly dwindling supply, anyways.

One of the things that kept me going during previous periods of doubt (oh, and I’ve had plenty in the last two months), was when I asked myself a simple question. If you stop now, will you be able to say, “I did my best?” Before, I never felt like I could say yes to that question. But today, I’m done with the tears. I’m disappointed, for sure, for a lot of reasons. But I’m done. I did my best.

Stopping isn’t too hard when you never had a gangbusters supply to begin with. I stretched the every-three-hours schedule to every four. Four became five, then six, then seven. Last week was crazy enough that extending the intervals between pumping sessions happened pretty naturally – once I stopped letting my pumping schedule dictate everything else, it took a dramatic backseat to the rest of my life.

I didn’t bother with the “pump just for comfort” advice that everyone gives, because I knew the supply would dry up quickly enough on its own. I’d go six hours, then pump for 35 minutes and still only get 2.5oz. I last pumped at 10PM on Sunday and got a single ounce. It is noon on Monday and I’m not in pain. I’m done.

I’ve saved about a day’s worth in the freezer to give to her next week, for her first feeds post-surgery (yes, she’s having surgery next Monday, more on that soon). I want her to have the stuff that’s easier to digest. But I knew I wasn’t going to be able to keep pumping until then. It was time.

So much for the hooter hiders I made. So much for the unused nursing pillow in the closet. So much for my preparation and determination and dreams of breastfeeding redemption. Life had other plans. Ellie had other needs. So it goes.

I lasted the exact same number of days. I’m even publishing this post on her two-month birthday, just like I did three and a half years ago. This time is different for a hundred reasons, but for one, I’m not beating myself up about it. I did my best. I tried again. I’m done.

Comments (24)

Categories : Feeding, Just me

Tags : Breastfeeding, breastmilk, exclusive pumping, milk supply

Mystery boobs

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (15)· March 30th, 2011

Oh, pumping. You have such an amazing way of messing with my head.

Why yes. I’m still exclusively pumping. It’s been over a month, and here I sit. Half an hour at a time, eight times a day (down from ten, look at how reasonable I’m being!). Every bottle carefully sealed and labeled with the date and time, refrigerated until it can be delivered to the hospital. It’s a glamorous thing, believe me.

I’m keeping up (just barely, for now, until she grows and they change the quantity again) with what she’s taking. I believe she has had 100% breastmilk for the last three weeks, and there may be a few spare ounces of buffer in the freezer at the hospital. I’m proud of that, and I don’t mean to belittle it. But despite the herbs and supplements and medication and tricks with the pump, I feel like I’m hanging on by my fingernails, just to keep up.

I was feeling particularly panicky the other day, wondering if my supply was dropping, or if I was actually keeping up, so I decided to start tracking. Oh yes, I made a spreadsheet. And while I absolutely see the crazy-making potential, I was already informally watching the quantities every time, anyways. At least now I have real data.

On the positive side, I was able to see several days worth of keeping up with her intake, with a little bit extra. That was helpful and a little calming. But I was also hoping to see some kind of pattern – maybe one time of day when I seemed to get more or less – so that I could anticipate it and feel a little less defeated when the inevitable “bad pump” happens. Sadly, no dice. I cannot, for the life of me, discern any rhyme or reason as to why some times I get a lot more, and some times I get a lot less (and by “a lot,” know that we’re only talking a range of maybe 20-30mL, and yes I can still easily measure my output in mL).

If I was breastfeeding on demand, of course, I’d never know any of this. It would fluctuate day to day, the baby would eat more or less often, and that would be that. Not so with the pump. This way, lucky me, I get to evaluate myself every three hours, and see if I make the grade or come up short. And if you think this doesn’t have a major impact on my mood when I see the results, you’ve got another thing coming.

But, for now, I keep going. As I said before, it’s one of the few concrete things I can actually do and provide for Eleanor while she’s in the hospital. And while I do not think formula is evil (I have two healthy, brilliant, amazing kids who were almost 100% formula-fed), I do think that there is something particularly good about breastmilk, and I want to give her as much of it as I can.

But after more than 30 days of this routine, it’s still a big mystery to me.

Comments (15)

Categories : Feeding, Hospital, Newborns

Tags : Breastfeeding, pumping

Pumping sucks

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (33)· March 6th, 2011

Lame half-pun aside, I can’t really sugar-coat my feelings about exclusive pumping. I hate it. It is, in my opinion, the worst of all possible worlds. I know my friends out there who have made it work, and I salute you and all of that, but I hate it.

But I’m doing it. For now. I obviously want to give my baby what breastmilk I can while she’s in the hospital. And I’m holding out hope that this is a tool, a bridge, a means to help us move to actual breastfeeding when she comes home.

I am trying to apply some lessons learned from last time. I have been much more religious about my pumping regimen from my first hours in the hospital. Since before I could get out of that bed under my own power, I have been pumping every 2 hours during the day, and every 3 at night. 10 times a day. While I know I wouldn’t be sleeping any more if I actually had a newborn in the house, there is something particularly brutal about the pumping.

And yet, my sad little output continues to come in drips and dribbles. Improving a little, day-by-day, but not as much as it should (think 1-1.5oz total per session, even at 8 days out). Still not enough to provide the amount that she takes on a daily basis in the hospital. On the recommendation of a lactation-consutant-friend, I’ve ordered some medicine to help increase my supply (online! from New Zealand! it feels so illicit!), and will see if that helps matters.

In the meantime, I’ve got quite the little pumping area going. I have my hospital-grade rental pump (a Medela Symphony) set up in Eleanor’s room, where I can sit on the glider. The glider has an extra pillow that helps me sit up straighter and even lean a little forward, since the last thing I want is a single precious drop running out the wrong end of the pump.

I have an excellent hands-free pumping bra, which is a life-changer in so many ways. Not only were my arms and shoulders getting tired from holding the darn things to my boobs for 20 minutes at a time, and not only do I worry about dozing off and dropping the parts onto the floor, but being hands-free lets me multitask. My iPhone is my constant companion. I set the timer when I turn on the pump so I don’t have to watch the clock. I set the timer when I go to bed so I won’t sleep through the next pumping session. I check Facebook and Twitter, email and blogs. I play Cut The Rope. I listen to music. Anything but sit and stare at each drop the pump coaxes out. I even brought up my old laptop. As it is, it takes me 2-3 days to finish a blog post right now, might as well use this 20 minutes of sitting on my butt to get something done.

Pumping this often leaves very little time for, well, anything at all. I spend fully 25% of my waking hours on it, between the actual pumping, storing, and cleaning (yes, I know I don’t have to wash the parts every time, but it’s fast and works with my current routine). I’m usually left with barely 60-90 minutes to eat, sleep, play with my kids, nap, or maybe leave the house. I can get away with a little longer visit at the hospital, simply because they’ve got a pump there I can use (oh, the glamour). And yes, if I had her at home, I’d arguably be spending even more time nursing her, since it’s unlikely a newborn would finish the job in a scant 20 minutes. But at least a baby is more portable than a hospital-grade pump.

Ultimately, this is not a routine that is sustainable for me in the long-term. It’s already kicking my ass, barely more than a week into it, and that’s while I have three additional adults in the house for the majority of the day and don’t have to cook dinner. I can only imagine what it will be like when the help goes home and life goes back to (the new) normal.

No, if my efforts at breastfeeding are ultimately unsuccessful, I will not exclusively pump for months on end. With three kids, I simply can’t. But, for right now, it’s something of a necessary evil. It is what I have to do, for now, to give myself every chance at being able to breastfeed. I have to stack the deck in my own favor as much as I can.

Not to overstate the issue, it is also one of the few things I am actually able to do for Eleanor right now. I can’t spend all day at the hospital with her, and even if I could, it’s not like I could do something particularly proactive to move her progress along. But I can try to make some milk for her. I do my best, and twice a day, I will bring it to the hospital so they can put it into her bottles. Talk about a bonding experience…

And so, here I sit. I keep it up as best I can. I keep as much humor and perspective as I am able (does anyone have an iPhone ringtone that sounds like a cow moo-ing?). Some days it gets me down more than others, some days I just kind of shrug and roll with it.

It sucks. But for now, it is what it is. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a whopping 30 25 minutes left to hit publish, grab some breakfast, and hook up again.

MOO.

Comments (33)

Categories : Feeding, Hospital

Tags : Breastfeeding, exclusive pumping, medela symphony, milk supply, NICU

Catharsis

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (9)· June 23rd, 2008

(noun) elimination of a complex by bringing it to consciousness and affording it expression.

I feel the need to write one (hopefully) last entry on breastfeeding. Mostly because I have a few lingering things that I just need to let go.

I do not regret our decision to go to 100% formula when the kids were eight weeks old. At that time, in those circumstances, with that experience, it was the right decision. And it has afforded some notable advantages. Other people can help with feedings, for instance, which allowed me to be better-rested than many new moms. And at this age, when they hold their own bottles, it’s pretty sweet to just hand them bottles in the stroller and run an errand. It’s expensive as hell and I can’t wait to move on to whole milk, but it has had its benefits.

But breastfeeding was something I had really wanted to do, something I prepared for, something I felt confident I was going to be able to do. And it just didn’t work out. Maybe it was meant to be that way, and maybe no matter what, that’s how it would have ended up. But with hindsight being 20/20, and all that I know now, I can’t help but think I could have done some things differently. And as I may not have any more kids and be able to benefit from my own experience, maybe this will resonate and help someone else. Or maybe not, and maybe this is just for me. That’s OK, too.

Before I launch into my list, let me be clear. I am not sad and in need of consolation or advice, I am not bemoaning the way my life turned out. I think things have turned out rather well, in fact. I just have had these ideas bouncing around my head for a while, and I want to get them written down so that I can let them go. Breastfeeding (or not) is such a loaded, emotional issue, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to get over if it doesn’t go the way you hoped.

So here you go, the things I’d change if I had it to do all over again. Would all of these have been realistic? Would they have made the critical difference? Who knows, and it doesn’t really matter. They’re just ideas…

1. Nurse more in the NICU.

This is a very hindsight kind of thing. Because when you have a baby (or two) in the NICU, your only goal is that they will be able to come home. And one condition of coming home is to take all feeds by mouth and gain weight. Daniel was pretty slow to transition after he was born, and would fall asleep before finishing his whopping half-ounce, and the rest would go down the little nasal tube. I didn’t want to tire him out at mealtimes, so I didn’t nurse. Bottles were always easier. Guess who had the seemingly incurable latch issues? Rebecca and I tried more, and were more successful, but she was just so darn tiny. In hindsight? Be aggressive about trying to nurse as much as possible, nasal tube be damned. It probably wouldn’t have meant more than an extra couple of days in the hospital, which seems like no big deal right now, but of course would have felt awful at the time. Ah, the fantasy of hindsight.

2. Throw away the schedule, at first.

We came home from the NICU with the kids on a predictable 3-hour rotation, and they were supposed to get high-calorie formula every-other feeding. In my attempts to nurse, of course, sometimes they would want to eat again after an hour or two. Because the 3-hour schedule was so concrete in my brain, it made me nutty when they wanted to eat more often, as well as convinced I couldn’t possibly make enough milk for them. So I’d give them a bottle of formula, which stayed in their tummies a bit longer, and didn’t actually tell my body to make more. I wish I had been able to just let go of the 3-hour idea and just sit and nurse all the damn time for the first couple of weeks to actually get a supply going. Maybe do a bottle of the high-cal stuff every 6 hours, just to do what the doctor said, and pump those times, but you get my idea. Save the schedule for a little later, nurse constantly for the sake of establishing milk production. By the time someone told me to do that, I was so married to my 3-hour schedule that I couldn’t handle letting it go.

3. Throw away the pump, sort of.

From day 1, my life revolved around the dreaded pump. The seeming lack of results, combined with the milliliter-counting that is life in the NICU, was really demoralizing. And the whole pumping-then-bottle-feeding is an absolute nightmare. You prep bottles, you feed bottles to slow-eating babies, you burp babies, you put them down and go pump for 20 minutes… you label and refrigerate bottles, you clean the pump parts… leaving you with approximately 15 minutes to do things like, say, hang out with your babies. And while I didn’t feel like my body responded well to the pump, I probably was, in fact, producing enough at the time for one baby. But if I wasn’t nursing two babies, my body was never going to learn to produce for two babies.

The pump can be a useful tool, of course. It was good to have in the hospital when my babies were not in a position to nurse, and it would have been good as a supplemental tool to help boost supply. But while I was sent home with instructions to pump every 3 hours, I do not feel like I had any idea of how to get off of the pump. Hindsight verdict: chuck the pump and nurse all the time, only use the pump maybe at the times that I did the high-cal formula bottle.

4. Get better nursing attire.

This may seem like an odd one, but I think it would have been helpful. One of my big stumbling blocks was that I was very uncomfortable nursing in public. Less for reasons of exposing the boobs, but more for fear of exposing the belly. I’ve always been overweight and self-conscious… add in a big, squishy, stretch-marked postpartum belly, and do you really think I wanted to lift up my shirt? But getting out of the house was really important to me, and I’d just end up bringing bottles and not staying out long. What I wish I had done was gotten some of those nursing tanks to wear under my shirts (so the belly would remain covered, even if I had to lift up my regular shirt), or those pull-aside nursing shirts, or something. I really had no nursing clothes, save for two sort of transitional nursing bras and one non-functional nursing tank (there are better kinds out there. I think the right attire would have made an enormous difference in my ability to nurse while not at home. Also… a hooter hider! I knew about these things at the time, but as nursing was looking questionable, I didn’t want to spend the money in case it didn’t work out. Alas.

– — –

There you have it, my woulda, coulda, shoulda list. Would I have been able to do them in my post-partum hormonal state? Would any of it have made a difference with Daniel’s weird-tongue-thing and hideous latch? Would doing all of these things have saved breastfeeding at the expense of losing my mind? Who knows. Maybe not, and I’ll never know. But now I can stop bouncing these things around in my brain when I can’t sleep, I will know they’ve been written and not lost, I can come back and reference it or link it for someone, or add to it if I think of something else.

It’s done.

Comments (9)

Categories : Infants, Mommy confessions, Newborns

Tags : Breastfeeding, Formula

Baby gourmet

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (9)· February 27th, 2008

I’ve decided to make all of my kids’ food. OK, I’m not making my own cereals, those still come from a box. But as far as pureed fruits & veggies, I’m making as much of it as I possibly can. I didn’t really know ahead of time that I’d be “that person.” I have no moral objection to commercial baby foods, except that the times I’ve tried them have been on a dare (at a baby shower), and they were largely nasty. Then I started to realize that I had options other than the stuff in a jar, and that, frankly, homemade baby food isn’t just a crunchy hippie thing to do. (And crunchy, I’m not.) No, I have elected to make as much food for my kids as possible for a number of reasons:

I like to cook! I’m home! Why not?
If I make it, I know what’s in it. No weird starches or stabilizers of questionable nutritional value.
It’s real food, with real flavors and textures. I can only hope this will help my children’s taste buds, though I know we’ll still go through a chicken fingers phase.
It’s cheaper. Not that I’m a major penny pincher, but I’m paying less for better food and less waste (packaging). Sounds good to me.
If I’m being completely honest with myself and you all, I have to admit that I find it sort of psychologically redeeming after not being able to breastfeed them.

Yes, I’m still talking about the breastfeeding that I stopped more than four months ago. Yes, I do still think it was the right decision for all of us, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still conflicted about it. And it’s not the primary factor behind my decision to make my own food. I actually really enjoy making it. I love seeing something at the grocery store and deciding my kids will try it. But there’s also a variety of reasons that I feel really good about that choice.

I’m not going to completely avoid all commercial food. It’s convenient for a reason. When we go to California next week (yes, we’re flying cross-country with two 7-month-olds, and no, I don’t want to talk about it), I will totally just get stuff from the store. But I’ll also take the opportunity to introduce my kids to the pure joy that is avocadoes. Mmm, baby guacamole.

I think one of the other things on my mind is trying to help my kids enjoy eating healthy, and hopefully encourage positive habits. I don’t plan on introducing juice any time soon (who needs it?), and I definitely won’t be adding any sugar to any of my purees. There’s so much sweet goodness in fruits, I see no need to add calories that are devoid of nutritional value. Yes, some of this is totally related to my own issues/struggles with food. But hey, if I can foster healthy habits in my kids (without being a total nutter), that’s a good thing.

Anyways, that’s what I’m up to. People assume it’s got to be so much work, but it really isn’t bad at all. I can throw some sweet potatoes in the oven or cook some apples on the weekend. Throw ‘em in the Cuisinart, freeze it in ice cube trays, and I’m good to go. The time-consuming part is the actual baby-feeding oatmeal/sweet potato carnage in my kitchen. Actually cooking it is no big deal at all. I get my guidelines (OK’d by my pediatrician, of course) from WholesomeBabyFood.com, if you want to check it out. I admit to being somewhat afraid of meat purees, but I’ll jump off that bridge in a couple of months.

Comments (9)

Categories : Cooking, Feeding, Infants

Tags : Breastfeeding, guilt, homemade baby food, Solids

It was a good dream

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (5)· October 3rd, 2007

After eight weeks of trying, I decided this week to stop breastfeeding. I’ve mentioned my struggles here before, and thought I had come up with a workable solution. For the last few weeks, I’ve been breastfeeding Rebecca about 80% of the time, and occasionally pumping, with the pumped milk going to Daniel. I tried nursing him from time to time, but while his “latch” became less painful, it was obviously really inefficient, and it became clear he’d never really take a full feeding that way. So one baby was breastfed, one was bottle fed.

But it wasn’t realistic for the long term. I found that not being able to nurse both of them made nursing one of them more difficult. Additionally, though I tried, I found myself very uncomfortable nursing in public (or, really, in front of just about anyone but my husband). It was still taking a lot of effort, so add to that a desire to be discreet, and not to share both my boob and my stretch-marked spare tire with the world, and I started to find breastfeeding much more limiting than I ever imagined it to be. If I was going to be out of the house for a feeding, I had to bring bottles anyways, and then felt the need to get home quickly to pump and make up for the missed nursing session. And nursing one while the other decides to wake up hungry or continually spit out his pacifier is quite a scene. Finally, despite becoming quite competent at latching (except when she decided to scream at my boob), Rebecca was a slow, sleepy, and frequent eater. She’d get cozy and doze off while nursing, so (per LC instructions) I’d take her off and put her down. A couple of minutes later, she’d wake up and remember she wanted to eat some more. Eventually this would end, but then she’d be hungry again two hours later (while her brother ate every 3 hours… great). While this might be doable if she were my only baby, that just isn’t the case.

So, last Wednesday morning, I found myself at the end of my rope. Rebecca was acting hungry and then showing no interest in actually nursing when put near the boob. Add that to the fact that I was feeling convinced that she’d eat more (and gain weight better) if she wasn’t always so cozy and sleepy. I decided to take a little break and just pump for a day or two. I had started questioning how long I could keep up the breastfeeding several days earlier, but this was the first time I stepped back from it. Wednesday was only pumping, Thursday was a combination with nursing. But by Friday night, my pumping sessions went from 2.5-3.5oz down to 1.5oz at the most. It became clear that it was time for a decision: either commit to breastfeeding and re-establish my rapidly dwindling supply, or call it a day and let it go. I opted for the latter.

Sunday morning was my last nursing session with Rebecca (who took another 2oz by bottle when she was done on the boob). I told her so, and let myself have a little cry. While breastfeeding never became as easy or enjoyable as I hoped it might, I couldn’t help but be sad to let go of the dream. I was so determined. I wanted to be able to give that benefit to my babies, I wanted to have the benefits, myself. I did not want to give up. But eight weeks have past, and I’m ready to be done fighting with it.

And so, I wave goodbye to the dream of breastfeeding my twins. The best laid plans just didn’t work out the way I had hoped. Maybe if they hadn’t been in the hospital those extra few days, maybe if I had practiced with Daniel that first week the way I did with Rebecca, maybe if I had… who knows. Can’t go back and change anything, and it’s not worth trying to make excuses or find someone or something to blame. Disappointed though I am, I’m OK with my decision. I think it’s the right thing for the three of us, even if it wasn’t what I had originally hoped.

Comments (5)

Categories : Feeding, Newborns

Tags : body image, Breastfeeding, exhaustion, pumping

Return of the boob

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (2)· September 12th, 2007

I know, you were dying for more stories about my boobs, weren’t you?

Well, what a difference a week makes. Ever since Rebecca was given the green light to stop the high-cal formula, she has been almost exclusively breastfed. She really only gets formula at night when my husband takes a shift, or if I just feel like taking a little break. This also means I’ve virtually stopped pumping for the time being, only hooking myself up if I skip a feeding. And this morning (i.e. 4AM), I pumped over 3 ounces for the first time.

Shortly after pumping, Daniel woke up ready to eat. Well, what the heck… he needs the practice and I need the stimulation for my supply, so I nursed him. And he did pretty darn well! I didn’t have to fight him to latch (well, in the weird way he “latches,” anyways), and he nursed on both sides for at least five minutes each. He then took the 3oz I had just pumped by bottle, and was a happy camper. We both were. I’ve still been trying to put him to breast at least once a day so he doesn’t get out of practice, and he blessedly continues to improve.

Oh, and about an hour and a half after Daniel ate, Rebecca woke up hungry (yeah, they’re so not on the same schedule at the moment, but I’ll worry about that some other time). So I nursed her, and she didn’t even need a bottle afterwards! Wahoo, that’s the first time I’ve nursed both of them back-to-back like that, without needing to supplement.

See, just when you’re ready to give up, things can turn around. Thank goodness. And again, I really think it helped that I’ve let myself off the hook a little bit, and realize that it’s OK if they get fed in different ways. I’m doing my best, and over the past few days, my best has even been improving. Hooray!

That, and we are officially in love with Daniel’s reflux medication. Significantly less of the painful/frustrated-sounding grunting and nighttime fussing. Oh sure, he still fusses, being a baby and all. But the whole house has noticed an improvement. Including Rebecca, who seems inclined to take over her brother’s title. Señorita Fussy-Pants? Oh dear.

Comments (2)

Categories : Feeding, Newborns

Tags : Breastfeeding

One-month checkup

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (1)· September 7th, 2007

Today was the twins’ weekly weight check and one-month well-baby appointment. Both have continued to put on weight well. Daniel is up to 8lb14oz, and Rebecca is 6lb9oz. For those keeping track at home, in five weeks they have posted a net gain of 2lb12oz and 2lb1oz, respectively. Not too shabby.

As for percentiles, since parents love to compare their babies to one another, their weights are in the 76th and 15th percentiles (you can guess which is which!). So for two babies who spent the same 36 weeks in the same belly and were born in the same minute, they are awfully different sizes. Oh, and those are their “adjusted” percentiles, taking into account the fact that they were technically 4 weeks premature. So, yes, Rebecca is only bigger than 15% of one-week-olds. Compared to the average five-week-old, she has finally climbed into the first percentile. Whew.

When I expressed to my pediatrician that I’d like to take Rebecca off of the high-calorie formula, she had no problem with that. She’s clearly eating and growing well, and this will allow me to attempt to breastfeed her more, which is a good thing for both of us. For today, I’m attempting to pretty much just breastfeed her on demand, and we’ll see how it goes.

I asked her if she had any ideas about Daniel’s terrible suck, I finally got a new suggestion! She said that, since they were officially premature, I would qualify for a visit from the Early Intervention folks. The thought being that they might set me up with a pediatric occupational therapist who might be able to help out. It may or may not be the answer, but at least it’s something to try. She also gave me a prescription for Señor Fussy-Pants, thinking it’s possible he might have reflux, and that’s what is making him grunt and fuss some of the time. We’ll see if it helps.

Thanks to all those who offered support and suggestions about my breastfeeding woes. As you can tell, I was in quite a state when I wrote that last post. Not only have the suggestions been nice to have more things to try, but the support has helped me to let myself off the hook a bit. I’m backing off a little, and allowing myself to just say I’ll do my best, and it’ll be alright.

In the meantime, we now await the arrival of Grandpa Jack, Abuelita Cha-Cha, and Auntie Desi. Should be a fun weekend!

Comments (1)

Categories : Feeding, Newborns, Pediatrician appointments

Tags : Breastfeeding, Formula, growth check

A boob on the brink

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (10)· September 6th, 2007

I’m thinking about giving up on breastfeeding.

I don’t really want to. I wanted to make it work. But a month and two visits to the lactation consultant later, and I’m still in tears.

I have been trying to nurse one of them at each feeding, since Rebecca is still alternating with the high-calorie formula (I’m hoping to stop this, we’ll see what the pedi says on Friday). Rebecca latches well, and often manages to satisfy her hunger with a nursing session, though not as much lately. Daniel’s latch is, well, awful. The best advice I’ve gotten is simply to “wait until he opens his mouth really wide and make sure he gets a good mouthful.” Well, what the hell do you do when he has the WORST rooting reflex ever created and he does NOT open his mouth. Honestly. I try and try and wait for that moment when he finally responds, but he never does. Even when he opens it halfway, his tongue is cemented to the roof of his mouth, preventing him from getting much of me in there. So I finally let him get away with a mediocre latch, in the hopes that it’ll at least encourage… something. Except he never really forms any kind of seal, and instead of sucking, he mostly just chews. He manages to get some milk, but never enough for his voracious appetite. After 40 minutes and offering both breasts TWICE, he still screams and takes at least an ounce from the bottle (sometimes 2 or 3).

I’m trying, I swear. I wait and wait for the wide-open mouth, I try to get as much of the areola in there as I can. I offer the other breast… again. But his suck is awful, his tongue smacks from the roof of his mouth, and he flails about wildly when I try to get him on.

And don’t even get me started on the issue of supply. As it is, I might be making enough for one of them. The only suggestion I get seems to be that I should have a baby on one or both boobs at all times, or whenever I don’t, I should be pumping. If I just had one baby, maybe I could get away with constant nursing. But I honestly am not sure I could manage the two of them like that and still actually eat or shower.

I don’t want to give up. Especially for Rebecca, since she does so well. But she’s not the only one who needs to eat. So what do I do? Breastfeed her and formula-feed her brother? That somehow doesn’t seem right. Like an experiment they’d never approve in ethics committee. Do I scrap the whole thing because it’s only half working? It feels like such a waste. I always just felt like this was the kind of thing that, if I just tried, it would work. I’m going to call one more lactation consultant tomorrow, and see if she can’t help me come up with a workable plan. If not…. I just don’t know.

Comments (10)

Categories : Feeding, Newborns

Tags : Breastfeeding, lactation consultant

All by myself

By Goddess in Progress · Comments (5)· August 31st, 2007

Chalk up the lack of posts to the fact that today is day 5 of me being solo with the twins. Things are going well, but I’m obviously left with much less time to do things like blog… or shower.

Actually, things are going pretty well. I have indeed managed to shower nearly every day. I also make it a goal to take a walk with the babies every day, for my dog’s sake as much as my own, and I have accomplished said goal three out of four days already (and things are looking good for today). We’ve made trips to the doctor’s office, the store, and the Breastfeeding Moms Support Group at my hospital’s community health center.

Speaking of breastfeeding… it is slowly improving. My pump did, in fact, come back to life after a short hiatus. But I’m also only pumping a couple of times a day at this point. Once I was alone, it was one of the first things to fall by the wayside. With the three-hour feeding rotation, I just couldn’t devote so much time to sitting at the pump. However, I am now pretty much breastfeeding one twin for each feeding. Sometimes they still take a little supplement when they’re done, but not always.

Itty bitty Rebecca nurses really well, her only problem being that she sometimes falls asleep. I frequently strip her down to her diaper before nursing, so she isn’t too warm and cozy. Her tiny body is starting to fill out, and her cheeks are already chubbier. She’s gaining an appropriate amount of weight, but still adds up to only 5lb9oz as of Tuesday. So despite being my stronger nurser, she is still alternating feeds with high-calorie formula. I won’t be sad to see that stuff go.

Rebecca is generally pretty calm, sleeps well, and makes awfully funny faces. Beware when she decides she’s unhappy, though. She’ll go from calm to screaming herself purple. Thankfully, those occasions are somewhat rare, and she tends to be easy to calm. She’s frequently quite red in the face, and much like her mom, reacts somewhat strongly to the warm temperatures. On the 85-90 degree days, she is often found in diaper only. She’s sweet as can be, and we often just call her “itty bitty.”

Daniel is finally catching on to this whole latching/nursing thing. He’s still quite frantic, shaking his head and smacking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. But eventually he figures out where he is, and sucks away. Speaking of sucking, he needs to have something in his mouth seemingly at least 12-15 hours per day. He screams bloody murder if he looses his pacifier, which he does approximately every 6 minutes. But he’s a stellar eater overall, and is currently tipping the scales at 7lb14oz. Yes, he outweighs his sister by about 2.5 pounds. He moved right on into size 1 diapers yesterday, while his sister still hangs out in the newborn size, and swims in newborn-sized clothes.

Due to the seemingly constant pacifier replacement issues, Daniel spends more total fussy time than his sister, earning him the nickname, Señor Fussy-Pants. (There are songs about it, too.) And yet, if he has his pacifier, very few things seem to bother him. Heat is no problem, nor is the carseat or a full, stinky diaper. He makes the sweetest sounds when he’s falling asleep.

As for me, I’m doing pretty well. My blood pressure is back to normal, and I can see my ankles again. I still have plenty of fat and flab (I got my first postpartum “when are the babies due?” last night… alas), but I do think it’s coming down. The batteries are dead in my scale, so I have no idea how much I may have lost. I’m morbidly curious, but not surprisingly, have not actually managed such a time-consuming task as putting batteries in the scale. My incision has run into a few minor complications, but nothing some antibiotics can’t fix.

Emotionally, I’m doing well. Very infrequent attacks of the weepies. As an example, within 10 minutes of my husband leaving on my first day solo, both babies were hungry and screaming, and the dog threw up. And you know what? I didn’t cry! I take that as an accomplishment. I’m not sleeping a lot, but it’s not like that’s front-page news. I think it’ll catch up to me soon, but for now, I’m functioning.

Both babies are now fed and in their carseats, so it’s time for our walk. And hey, this post only took me two hours to write! Well, OK, more like five days of thinking about posting and then two hours, but still… Hopefully I’ll manage to write more frequently, but for now, know that I’ve got my hands full!

Comments (5)

Categories : Newborns, Out and about, Postpartum, SAHM

Tags : Breastfeeding, pumping, walks