Sorry for the lack of posts. This is the third I have written, and if it is deleted I am finished for good. Haha. Check the timestamp here. Remember when I said Eleanor was "a quiet baby - mostly a gurgler and sleeper". What I meant was that she was four days old. She is a total night owl now. As a morning person, this is not the easiest thing for me.
Another factor that keeps me up at night is the near constant whoosh-whoosh of the pump, milking me cow-style much of the day. I wish I could say breastfeeding was wonderful, and that it felt so very right. But, it's a fact that I've always hated my breasts - never trusted them. They are large (disproportionately so), and I have never been one for excess. I always consoled myself with thoughts of them as womanly, and good for their intended purpose of nurturing young. That, unfortunately has turned out not to be the case. The reality is that I have been trying fruitlessly since day one. With severely inverted nipples (frustrating for Eleanor) and a sh*t milk-supply (frustrating for me), I am stuck pumping and bottling "liquid gold"(LG) to give to her. (Is it silly to use your flanges to scrape the leaked drops of LG off of your stomach(s)? Kidding, sort of.) I really just didn't realize how prominently my breasts would feature in the mothering process. I didn't realize I'd be dragging my new large body shirtless around the house, deeming it futile to actually wear a shirt for the twenty usable minutes between feedings. Thank goodness for visitors, because they force me to get dressed.
But, no one wants to hear from me - you want pictures of the sweetest girl. So sorry that you'll have to wait...My camera ran out of batteries today - pictures to come...
When Bill beseeched me to write a blog, I guess he *didn't mean necessarily one about my chest. Oh well.
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3 comments:
Ha ha! I laughed out loud at your first paragraph. "What I meant was she was four days old." Classic! :)
Yeah, breastfeeding is hard. I mean, everyone tells you it is hard, but it is really hard. I hear you on roaming around the house naked; why put on a shirt when you're just going to have to whip out the buffet in about twenty minutes? And then another thirty minutes after that?
As far as inverted nipples, oh, I feel for you. I had them, too, and I had to wear nipple shields. It got the job done (Sam didn't seem to care), but it made those middle of the night feeding sessions FUN, what with juggling a newborn baby in one hand and putting a piece of plastic (or whatever those things are made of) on my boob.
Don't worry yourself with pictures or posts. You just concentrate on you and Eleanor. Your blog fans will patiently wait. :)
I think you know this, but both of my boys refer to the milk in their cereal bowls as "baby milk."
"I ate all my Pops! Now I have to drink my baby milk and I'll put the bowl in the sink!"
I like to think it was because I was right all along; it really IS liquid gold. The boys love it so much they have have to pretend to have it years after they were weaned. And it tastes like sugar! I'm MAGNIFICENT!!!
But Levi's favorite thing to say is, "Hey guys? Why do you call it baby milk."
and look smugly at my when they reply, "Because it's baby milk!"
He takes this as proof positive that it's NOT tiny, unconscious reminders of nursing. Because if they had a chance to say "boobies!" in any context, they would.
But he's a dope. It IS liquid gold and we are gold mines, lady. As any mom (yourself included) will cry out the words "No! My Liquid Gold!" after she spilled a bottle of hard earned mommy milk. This is why when the going gets rough, it's nice to remember, "It's easier than being a real miner..."
And it's the ONLY saving grace after you wean and your breasts resemble two forgotten, deflated, saggy balloons two weeks after a party. : )
Oh lordy. Between your blog and the comments, I'm dying. You know, it's really good women are comfortable talking about this stuff. I don't know how women got through the first little one without going crazy back in the day. Keep up with the funny chronicles of Cat. It will be helpful if I ever decide to pop one or two out.
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