My thoughts on Breastfeeding...

I decided a long time ago that I was not going to breastfeed. Well let's face it, I also decided I wasn't going to have children either. ;-) I didn't want to breastfeed because as it turns out, I was misinformed. I thought it would hurt (irony is it does with us but that's not the norm, we're, as you know, having issues) I mean how can it not hurt? A person is sucking with all its might on your nipples for hours a day, ouch! I thought I'd never be able to drink while breastfeeding and let's face it, I'm a fan of the ale! I thought my personal diet would have to be very limited. I thought I'd not be able to take my migraine medication, or any medication. In short, I was wrong.

In fact, breastfeeding does not hurt, when done properly. Sure you're a tad sore at first but breastfeeding without complications like thrush, which we have, isn't painful at all. Until we got thrush, breastfeeding was fine and I was in no pain at all!

And yes, you can have a glass of wine or a mug o' ale and breastfeed! In fact, beer, dark beer, is healthy for breastfeeding, it increases milk supply.

And yes, I can take my medication. My Dr told me what meds I can and can not take while breastfeeding, and nearly all of them are a go!

I can eat almost anything I want. Thus far we've not had too many issues with him not liking my milk or getting sick off it. (the formula, that's a different story)

Are there drawbacks to breastfeeding? Sure. For one, it's convenient to bottle feed (even more to bottle feed formula, no pumping required!).

In MY case, and not everyone is the same, it takes William anywhere from 60-120 minutes to nurse...now that's a long time. If I have somewhere I need to go, I don't have 2 hrs to nurse him. If I 'am' out, I don't have two hours to pull over or sit at the mall and nurse either. He'll down a bottle in a few minutes flat, but on me, he falls asleep....and stays asleep. Once I remove him, he wakes up, hungry and crying until I re-latch him...two minutes later...asleep again. Ugh.

Another plus is other people can feed him to give me a break! Now if someone else feeds him bottled breast milk then it's still breastfeeding so far as I'm concerned. Of course that requires copious amounts of pumping. When do you have time to pump if you're nursing?

If you're shy about nursing in public, then bottle feeding is the way to go! Otherwise you're stuck hiding in a ladies lounge or bathroom or your car. There is the hooter-hider for those more bold, or foregoing all forms of 'hiding' for the truly brave.

It's also easier to administer medications to the baby by putting them in the bottle too.

These are the only positives I see to bottle (formula) feeding. Let's talk about the hassles of bottle feeding. First, there's the cost. Formula is outrageous! But even more than that, is the cost of bottles! Bottles, good ones, are $10 a piece! Then you need to replace nipples from time to time. Unless you're cheap like me and enjoy washing bottles all the time, you'll need lot's of bottles....lots. We've gotten by just fine with 10 bottles, in three different sizes, but I mostly breastfeed.

Some will say to sanitize bottles after every feed, another cost, another annoyance. Then there's the 'bottle warmer'...I personally just run the bottle under hot tap water or put hot water in a coffee mug and place the bottle in that, done! Still a pain in the butt though.

Bottles weigh down your diaper bag. You can't leave unless you have bottles and purified water and formula, which means toting around a plastic bin that holds formula. What a pain! Oh and water, can't just use any old water, you need "nursery" water...or purified water, or water that costs freakin' MONEY!

I'm not even talking about the health stuff yet, am I? ;-) I mean that's a given that breast milk is healthier than any formula, and there's not debating that!

YES, a booby picture!

So, what changed my mind about breastfeeding? COST! I saw how much formula costs ($24-$26...a week) and said, um...no...breast milk is free! Well it's almost free. There's the cost of the pump, $100, and the nursing pads, $6 a month or so, and nipple cream, $11, and nursing bras, $24, and nursing tanks, $15, and nursing night gowns, $30....okay I think that's it. It's still cheaper than formula.

After I made the decision to breastfeed, I guess when I was five months pregnant, I started to do some research. Yes, it's good for the baby, yes it's good for the mother. Just read all the stuff about cancer and such here (http://www.babycenter.com/0_how-breastfeeding-benefits-you-and-your-baby_8910.bc?page=3) Who knew that breastfeeding can lower the chances of you getting certain cancers and even osteoporosis!

Did you know breast milk can cure pink eye and ear infections? (http://www.pregnancy-info.net/breastfeeding_illness.html)

I can't help but wonder, and this is personal opinion, why cancer rates in children and adults have skyrocketed in the last 100 years, as well as autism. YES breastfed babies get cancer and autism but it just seems the rates of these instances have escalated in the last 100 years, which is about the same time people started phasing away from breast milk and began using evaporated milk and other substitutes.

Now, all the cancer and other diseases could as easily be explained by our environment, the water we drink, the food we eat and the air we breathe. Perhaps we're transferring these toxins to our young in our breast milk? Perhaps it's a little bit of both. It just seems to me everything has gone to hell since people started making their lives easier. More and more people of my generation are now opting to breastfeed, whereas most in our parent's generation thought it was absurd, hippie-ish, and an inconvenience, which is why so few of them did it.

I know my mother was not initially supportive of my decision. She has since changed her mind and supports me fully. Initially she said I'd be weighed down and he'd use me as a pacifier. She said I'd be in terrible pain and bottles and formula are just more convenient. She was right, all of it, 100% correct! But does that mean it shouldn't be done? Just because it's easy doesn't make it right. Processed foods are easy and wrong on so many levels, as are fast food, artificial sweeteners, and many chemicals found in everyday cleaning products. All of this is bad for you, and many people are beginning to shy away from them.

Another thing that baffles my mind is that for about 200,000 yrs, homo sapiens have been breastfeeding, as they had no other choice. In the last 50 yrs or so, breastfeeding in the US has become almost taboo. In 50 yrs we as a society have forgotten how to breastfeed! We now must read books, join online forums, attend classes, employ 'consultants' and attend meetings to discuss the importance of, and how to, breastfeed! Have we de-evolved that much? So much that something so natural and fundamental to our survival as a species has been forgotten in the span of 50 to 100 years? What's wrong with us?

So, now I'm of the thought that breastfeeding is best and everyone should do it. LOL...cuz what I say goes. ;-) I'm like a born-again with this stuff. Everyone needs to try and commit to a minimum of six weeks. Then, set another goal, but keep them realistic. Reaching the goals are very rewarding. I just earned my "12" week badge on my breastfeeding forum...yea for me, all hail the "D"! Even through the pain of blisters and scabs and skin literally hanging off me, I've still not given up and it's been three months! Three months of painful hell. LOL...I'm in pain 24 hours a day, every day. Yeah, something's wrong, but we're still working on it because it's the best thing for him, and for me.

It's so easy at night, in bed, to just roll over on my side and feed him without getting up, making a bottle, warming a bottle...the stench of formula...plus nursing puts him back to sleep quickly.

Now that we've gotten past all the NICU induced nipple confusion, little dude WANTS to nurse. He enjoys it. His eyes, literally, roll to the back of his head once he's latched on, it's so obvious he's in heaven. Even in the NICU when he'd hardly ever nursed, he naturally 'rooted' on me...meaning even with clothes ON he leaned his head up to my breast and tried to feed, LOL...it was so cute and so funny, yet sad at the same time because nursing in the NICU was an ordeal and not something I could do daily.

It seems babies naturally will root there, on anyone, wanting comfort or food or both. This is the realization I reached recently and I stand by it. To deny them that, something that's hardwired into their little brains, just seems cruel to me. Babies were meant to be breastfed and breasts were designed to do just that. I think too many moms give up too quickly. Now I understand why they do. Also, I totally understand there are those who absolutely can not breastfeed for various reasons...I don't criticize those people.

Did you hear me when I said I have skin dangling off the ends of my nipples? Bleeding? Thrush? Burning and aching 24 hours a day? I can not wear clothes at all most of the time, which Chris loves of course....and that's just me and my discomfort.

What about when you're ready to go somewhere and lil' dude decides he's hungry and it takes us 90 minutes to nurse? Or when you're out, having to nurse in public? Or when you're cooking and you have to stop to nurse him for two hours...or even worse, you're starving but can't stop to grab a bite, because you're nursing...you have to pee...you have dogs to walk...yeah, I understand why people quit.

Another booby shot! Look at his cute head ;-)

Now him nursing for two hours is just him, that's not normal....he spends half that time sleeping anyways. I hear it's a "preemie" thing and he'll grow out of it. Remember when we started it was 13 hours straight, yes, I wanted to pull my hair out (but it's falling out anyway so never mind) ;-) Then we got it down to three hours, now two, next week, who knows....one would be nice.

At least I get to relax and watch a movie while I nurse....lots of movies. Tons of movies...The Wrestler is excellent btw... ;-)

I'm still hoping to eliminate formula all together and never use the bottles again. Every week we get closer to that goal. Every day in fact gets better and better, 'cept for the pain. :-(

Believe me, if "I" can do it, anyone can do it. I hate pain! Then again I said labor didn't really hurt so maybe my tolerance is high...;-)

Using me as a pillow.... :-)

How fast they change! The week in review, the week of June 20th, 2010

Don't blink! Boy do things change a lot, maybe not day to day but week to week for certain.

Two weeks ago, though we didn't really tell anyone, we thought William may have very poor eye sight, I even thought he may be blind. Lil' dude NEVER made eye contact with us, or anyone. He wouldn't look at....anything! The light would affect him but that was it. He never 'tracked' meaning he never followed objects, or lights, or even sounds. He didn't respond to our faces, or our voices.

Okay so I kind of thought maybe he didn't like me. ;-) Maybe he thought I was ugly...turns out he just wasn't that interested. Yeah, he just wasn't that in to me. This week, he makes eye contact. He responds to us. And he tracks objects, IF you move them very slowly, and then he only tracks for maybe 10 seconds, why? Sensory Overload...never heard of it, but, it's real.

Last week, sure, he'd occasionally take a paci, but this week, he 'needs' his paci. He's addicted to his paci! If he can't get to it, today I noticed, he'll just take his hand, fingers or thumb...whatever it takes to suck on something. He also started 'comfort' nursing, which is a HUGE turn around from a few weeks back when he hated to nurse. It's sweet.

When the paci gets turned around, he'll suck on its side. The puppy-paci, I caught him sucking on the puppy's ear. Hell, he's even sucked on the end of Chris's nose, which is really the most disgusting thing I've ever seen.

Last week, he'd smile, on rare occasion. Though his smiles are still fairly spontaneous, they are more predictable as to when he'll do them. Just after a meal, he'll coo, wiggle, and smile. So now I have the camera at the ready after each feeding (aren't you just thrilled?) to document his happy faces.

Last week, he never napped....ever. (Granted he slept better at night that way) but this week, he takes 1-3 hr naps after his meals. We place in the boppy and place him on his tummy or side and he goes right to sleep. YES, we're right next to him, not leaving him unattended while he rests. Since he has colic, this is the best position for him to be comfy in.

Now, when he cries his non-hungry cry, we know to either give him a paci, or finger, or God forbid a nose (yuck) or put him in the boppy in that comfy position and he's happy as a clam. Why are clams so damn happy? Their lives suck when you think about it....but they do make a great sauce!

This week we learned he's 23 inches long. He's grown about 2 inches in one month. That's....impressive. He's tall and thin! GOOD! Short and fat sucks! Freakin' Michelin man can kiss my butt! Okay, fat babies are adorable but I have a "long and lean" one so that's clearly the best way to be now so far as I'm concerned. ;-)

We're trying the cloth diapers (http://www.fuzzibunz.com/) this week, thanks to Becky who lent me some. These things are expensive! I mean in the end, they are cheaper than disposables and better for Mother Earth, but man, the upfront cost to these things....wow! We're giving them a try for a while and see how that goes. Then we have to give them back! LOL! She'll make a fortune on these things when she sells some of them in the future. I mean, they're just a piece of material, with snaps....and absorbent properties...and cutesy designs!

So this week, the week in review...started to suck thumb, yes, that's called self soothing...fell madly in love with his paci, also decided he enjoys napping on his belly and side, FINALLY getting the hang of side nursing at night, tracking objects and making eye contact with his gorgeous baby blues....while he still has them.

I wonder what next week will bring?

My thoughts on Church....

This blog entry has NOTHING to do with faith. It has to do solely with the actual, physical Church, the building itself and the experience one got in the building, not the religion in general.

I know more about religion than almost any other person I know. Why? Because I was very, very religious growing up and as a young adult. For reasons unknown to everyone including those who forced this upon me....I was raised Catholic....but attended a Lutheran school for ten years...ten formative years.

For those of you who don't know jack about the reformation it was started by a little known German monk dude named Martin LUTHER(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Martin_luther)...hence the Lutheran Church...if any break-a-way Church is anti-Catholic, you can pretty much bet that the Lutherans are at the top of that list.

So I attended Lutheran school by day and Catholic Church on some weekends....Catechism for Communion was fun. I never understood why the Catholics hated the Protestants and why the Protestants hated the Catholics...I mean yeah, there was some selling of indulgences and stuff...but I was just a tad confused growing up.

Let me tell you a little something about my Catholic Church I attended growing up, Holy Family, in North Miami, Florida. (http://www.holyfamilynorthmiami.com/) You'll notice from the picture it looks like a rolled up receipt. That place was round, round and HUGE....very huge. The acoustics were great! You could hear every whimper from every baby, every second of every mass. The only thing I liked was the pipe organ. I still dig me a pipe organ.

Our Priests, never spoke good English. There were always hundreds of babies there, crying, so even if they did speak English I never heard a word they said. The only person who forced me to go was Mema...and Mema told me, and I believed her, that there was "no bathroom" in Church.

NEVER tell someone with a hyperactive bladder that there is no bathroom! I of course spent every second of Mass each time looking from my seat in the painful pew for a bathroom. I never did find it. I was not, of course, allowed to get up and look for it. I'm sure it existed...somewhere...somewhere in that void on that holy ground there had to be a bathroom!

So I equate Church with the pain of a full bladder and the fear of wetting ones self. Fun huh?

Our service was never short. It was long...over an hour. Mema liked to get there early too. I had to pee before the processional even started!

As a young Catholic, you sit, stand, and kneel and more importantly watch on as everyone gets up, stands in line, and gets their very own communion wafer. You wonder what it tastes like, and when you'll get to sample some. You attend classes to prepare for eating said wafer. Finally the day comes....you get up to the front of the line and the Monseigneur offers you the body of Christ and it tastes like.....stale puffed wheat...it also sticks to the roof of your mouth. You're not supposed to chew it, or dig at it once it's stuck with your finger, so it lingers...stuck....for a pretty good period of time.

Despite all that, it's still fun. You're finally a real member of the Church. You're practically an adult! So you almost look forward to sitting with a full bladder while babies scream and Priests from the eastern block talk about the same stuff every week....until your Mema tells you another tall-tale...."You can't have communion if you missed the prior week of Church."

This is bogus and there was nothing I could do. As neither Mema nor I had a car, we had to rely on others to drive us to Church...and others NEVER drove us two Sundays in a row! SO....I never got Communion again until twenty six years later....after Mema was dead and I actually at my own will entered a different Catholic Church. Guess what? I did not implode! Nor did I spontaneously combust...nor did I burst into flames....nor did the wafer poison my throat.

So now when I think of Church, I think of full bladders and starvation! Oh, and back pain. Why? Because I have mild scoliosis. Did anyone in my family tell me? NO! LOL! I thought it was normal to gimp around with a bent and bruised spine my entire life. Spending every week in my Lutheran Church at school, seated in wooden pews and then what seemed like every 'other' Sunday at Catholic Church did a number on my spine. All that wood rubbing up against me for years and years meant I had a perpetual cut and bruised spine. Don't get me started on my knees! YES, what 12 yr old has bad knees? Well, me.

I'm a klutz. I bang my knees, often! One in particular, my right, gets banged badly, every two years or so. Four years ago I managed to crack the darn thing. That was fun. I wore a knee brace for years in my 20s...kneeling was not an option. Okay so now Church equals full bladders, starvation, back bruising and knees that pop so loud when I kneel even the Priest who speaks no English stops yapping and the babies stop crying.

Then there is the boredom. Here's how my Church went....pipe organ, my favorite part, processional, always made the hairs on my arms stand up...song, some muttering in a foreign tongue, a reading from the book of who knows because all I hear is the baby behind me screaming at the top of it's heathen lungs, some more talk by the Priest who I couldn't hear, another song that I couldn't sing but thankfully the choir could, step class...and then...the story of Communion.

It was the same story every week, obviously, it'd not changed in 2000 years. It took 30 minutes to tell. A wafer would be held up to the sky light over the alter, a bell would be rung by a alter boy, then the blood of Christ would get held up, another bell...then some stinky incense would be released thus gassing us all nearly to death. Then 2000 people who I know for a FACT did not attend the Mass the week prior got up and took their Communion while I was forced to kneel on bad knees and NOT take the Communion I worked so hard to earn because the week prior our ride fell through!

All I would think about was a toilet...which was easy to do as our Church was so plain. See, Church's are supposed to be beautiful, right? Ours was......plain...........minimalist..........it was decorated by Ikea I think. Red carpet...tan walls....and the gorgeous stained glass windows? Um no. These were solid colored stained glass cubes scatted throughout the circular building. The colors were red, blue or green, and since there were no walls really they were just...there...in no particular order. I always wanted to sit in the front but Mema liked the back. The back was good because I could stake out a path to a potential albeit fictitious bathroom that way but the front would have a nicer and different view of the skylight over the alter, and closer to the choir. But no, never happened.

Fast forward many years. Ohio is a very Catholic state. They say that most people in SW Ohio are Catholic, yet I'm surrounded by Protestant Churches. I did some research and found a Catholic Church in my town, my very small town. It was founded in the mid 1800's...so, it's old! It's older than dirt! Unlike the rolled up receipt, this one looks traditional, with dark brown brick and real stained glass windows.

For reasons I won't mention, I made a promise that I'd attend Church one Sunday if something 'good' was done for me, which it was, so I went.

First I was struck by its size. It's tiny! Very tiny! I'd never been in such a small Church before. I thought all Catholic Churches were gigantic....nope! Second, it was gorgeous! The walls inside were a subtle gray and there were beautiful stained glass windows, mostly blue in color, with events from the bible depicted in them. Same painful wooden pews of course...oh, and the kneeling. LOL...which now I cheat and lop my butt onto the pew...(yes I said butt and pew) and fake kneel, I doubt anyone will care.

There were babies but the acoustics made it so they didn't dominate the sounds. There was no pipe organ! Shame...no room for it! There was...........a piano.....a dude with an electric guitar and....a drummer. Yup...their very own Tommy Lee. I was...shocked. The Priest, was American, and happy...he smiled...a lot! He waved to everyone. Despite its size the place probably holds 200 people or so, and he seemed to know a lot of them.

Yeah we sang some song, well they sang, I don't sing...some dude read from the Bible....and then the Priest talked....about.....well I don't even recall on that day as it was three yrs ago, but he talked and he was funny. He talked about normal every day stuff and in the end tied it into Christian doctrine. Then, some people carried the wafer down the aisle to him...and he read another passage and everyone got up to eat. No long drawn out story, the same story....no bells, no incense. Is this a Catholic Church? I assure you it was!

I stood up and after not attending Church in 7 yrs and I took Communion. I even gave a dollar in their "beg" basket. Then, it was over! We sang a song and poof, done! Forty whole minutes! I was shocked. I thought to myself, wow, that wasn't bad, not bad at all!

I went again last weekend, with William. I was terrified he'd cry and ruin everything for everyone. Instead he farted. Man what I would have given for those incense. We sat in the last row, at the end of the pew...the painful pew which killed my spine and tail bone....there was standing room only behind us, all of them no doubt staring at my gorgeous baby, who I wore in a sling, nice and snug.

I once again took that wafer! I listened as the Priest talked about the importance of fathers, it was after all Father's Day. Father Manning is a plump man of older age. He smiled, a lot and had great stage presence. It was obvious he wanted to be there. He was happy to be there. He made jokes and smiled and laughed....I thought it was a sin to smile in a Catholic Church.

So, in the end, after all those years...I thought I hated the Catholic Church. No, I thought I hated Church in general. Turns out...I didn't hate the Catholic Church....I just hated 'that' Catholic Church. The one that I'd always gone too....

Still though, despite my going to a different Church, I never did find the bathroom....

The geyser...

So tonight, little one started to cry. Before I could do anything, a geyser erupted. Yup. I've never seen anything like it, nor has Chris. This stuff just SHOT out of the boob, straight into the air with such great force....and it kept going and going and going, like the Energizer Bunny. I was freaked out, and didn't know what to do! After 10 seconds or so the husband ran to get a towel while I yelled "Are you seeing this?!" over and over....I wasn't touching my boob, no one was. Little man was on my lap crying and boom! Finally Chris said "Put it in his mouth!" LOL! So....duh....I did. I mean this thing was like the BP oil leak....there was no stopping it.

I suppose that's what "let down" is...I've never really experienced that before, at least not visually. I suppose it's a great sign that my supply is good and my boob's hearing is spot-on. Little man didn't appear to choke, so that's good too. As for the clean up...we need some relief workers pronto in my living room!

Tales, from the titty...

:-)

So I co-sleep, which I swore I'd never do. But, I do. It happened by accident, we just fell asleep together. I decided I liked it. As a preemie I worried about his breathing after all. Now though it's so much easier to just have him in the bed. True, some nights are hell but most are not. What's 'gross' is...I tend to leak...all over HIM, and all over the bed.

This morning, Mr. Crusty Head woke up, well, all crusty with dried milk, his swaddle was drenched and there was the largest puddle on the sheets. Eww...but, he tends to sleep so much better if he's right up on me, which is why I don't wear a shirt. Ugh, so it's have him sleep in a pool of milk and stain the sheets, or wear a shirt, and bra and pads (which I leak through anyway) and make it more of a hassle to side feed at 3am and not have him sleep as well....

Today we went out for a few hours to get some exercise and I leaked through my pads, my nursing bra and my shirt. Lovely! I had him in my sling so no one could see the leak. I am guessing my previous problem of low supply is no longer a problem, which brings me to my topic of the day....my how things changed. Here's how things have changed since I started this journey three months ago.

1. Low supply. I pumped and pumped while he was in the NICU...on average, every 2-4 hours. I was lucky if I got half an ounce total...that's for both breasts, in a session. Of course at the time he was only taking maybe three quarters an ounce by feeding tube anyway. So from day one he's gotten half or slightly more than half his food from me, the rest, formula. (soy)

2. Nipple preference. When he did finally take a bottle for the first time, around 10 days old, he didn't even like that! He could hardly suck. Maybe three sucks if we were lucky. He finally learned how to eat. By the time he came home from the NICU, 4.5 weeks after birth, he greatly preferred the bottle. He'd scream, kick, and push 'me' away. So, I pumped while Chris bottle fed, for every feeding.

3. Time. Now, he no longer cares where he gets his meals from. He'll take a paci, a bottle, or me...whatever it takes. My new problem is he can down a bottle in two minutes....me, two hours. I don't always have two hours though. Ugh. But I've not pumped in many days, and I feed him from me exclusively more than he gets a bottle.

It's amazing how things change. Now, my sheets are proof, supply is no longer my issue. I remember when I prayed for more milk, now I have it. Then, he preferred the bottle to me. I prayed for the day he wanted me. Now, he wants me. LOL...he wants me so bad... :-) Maybe too bad...too much! Now, it's just the time factor....

I wonder what next weeks challenge will be?

My breastfeeding challenges...a history...

My initial plan was to breastfeed immediately after birth, but of course he was whisked away to a NICU 20 miles from me that night so..since he's a preemie, breastfeeding has been a challenge. I pumped since day two but never pumped a good amount. In the NICU I breastfed I think three times, each time for 1 to 5 minutes only. Because he's a preemie, he just couldn't stay awake to feed, he was barely awake for the bottle.

Our first attempts were with a shield and did not hurt, at all. I've read and heard if you do it right, it does not hurt....more on that later.

Fast forward a month and I get him home. It was still a challenge. By that time he had nipple preference, and he preferred the rubber kind. He screamed when I tried to feed him, he'd push me away, kick, spit me out, in short...he gave my boob the middle finger. My joke at the time...He doesn't like the boob...maybe he's an ass man. ;-) (Get used to my warped sense of humor or leave this blog) :-)

So I'd pump while Chris bottle fed him nasty smelling and over priced soy based formula. Whatever I pumped, we'd feed him but it was never enough in volume.

Fast forward a month and we get...thrush! Which we still have! Awesome! Each week got better in terms of his feeding and my supply growing....along with my pain.

Not sure when the pain kicked in exactly but it did indeed kick in. Ouch. Let's put it this way, in labor I never cussed, screamed, yelled, even held Chris's hand let alone clinched it, never broke a sweat....breastfeeding on the other hand, all of thee above...when I say scream, I mean scream. Pant, sweat, shriek...sometimes his latch sucks, pun intended, mix that with thrush and you have...blistered, dry, cracked, bleeding nipples! Woo hoo! I have calluses on them! Yup! I use lanolin but it doesn't do much. When his latch goes array I break the seal with my pinky and try to breathe again.

Lately I'm determined to get him off formula. So I tried a formula and bottle free day....he fed off me for 12 hours...pretty much non stop. Um, ouch and hello, I had things I needed to do, like PEE! After all that he was still hungry and he got a bottle. Talk about a 'let down'.

That same week though I noticed I got bigger, quite a bit bigger and he no longer preferred the bottle over me. He took the breast like a champ! He still needed a booster of bottled formula from time to time but far less of it. Also when I pumped my supply went way up, enough to fill a bottle for him! And I've not pumped since. That was a week ago.

In this last week, he gets on average, 2, 2 ounce bottles of formula, the rest comes directly from the breast...my callused, blistered, cracked breasts. I'm in so much pain I can't even wear clothes, which Chris loves btw.

So, why do I persist? I'm a masochist. No. I have fibromyalgia and am in pain all the time, I don't need additional pain and this is bad, bad, bad pain. I do it because it's best for him and me and I like a challenge. I'm going to make this work. I want him off formula all together by month's end. This is much easier said than done.

I'm done with the rant for now. Today I earned my '3 month' badge of honor the breastfeeding forum on live journal. I wear it with pride...painful pride.

I'm back!!!

(Just started showing here, 25 weeks pregnant)

(31 weeks pregnant)

(One week before the birth, 32 weeks pregnant)

After a long break, I am back, at least in theory. William does not allow me a great deal of internet time and now that Chris is back to work, I'll have even less of it. I am trying to blog again on a regular basis. So a few things have changed...for those of you who know me, feel free to skip this paragraph ;-)

I had a baby, after 2.5 years of trying. We were told we had a less than 1% chance of ever conceiving. After 'not trying' last August, we conceived the old fashioned way. It was the the most stressful two and a half years of my life. I never wish to relive that. Every month for nearly that entire time was hell. If my boobs hurt, was I pregnant? Or was my period coming? Usually it was the latter. Every month I really thought I was pregnant, that gets old...quick! In August of 2008, I was late, VERY late...I was convinced it actually happened...only to find it did not. After a few negative pregnancy tests I began to hemorrhage and I continued to do so for 10 days. Turns out I had a very large ovarian cyst that caused all that bleeding. That concerned me, as if we needed MORE challenges in that department. For the two weeks leading up to the blood-bath, I thought I was pregnant, despite the negative test results. So when last September rolled around and I was late again, I was convinced it was yet another cyst. I didn't tell anyone I was late, I didn't think I was pregnant at all...I didn't want that disappointment again. I didn't even test. After seven days, Chris pretty much forced me to test. As I was still peeing, the second pink line appeared and I screamed "I'm pregnant!"

I don't think Chris believe me...I wiped really fast, LOL...and ran out to show him and asked him ten times at least if I were insane or if that was a second pink line...turns out it was. It was a very happy day...happy indeed. We said we'd tell no one but we immediately told nearly everyone.

The next week was good. Saw my Dr, who I loved, Dr. Hilkowitz, got an ultrasound, saw the little speck that would be William and.....................the rest is too horrible to recount, let's just say hyperemesis, pic lines, hospitalizations, medicine-induced depression, pre-term labor, bed rest and then...a premature baby.

But seven months later, he was born...yes, seven. He was nearly two months early. After a month and a half in the NICU he came home and now is doing fine. He's three months old, but really he's five weeks old, he looks five weeks old but acts more in-between the two.

Mama-D