Advice to New Mothers

My friend just called with bad news:  She has the dreaded mastitis.

I feel so helpless about the situation, even though I know exactly what she's going through.  It's brutal.  There's really nothing I can do except pray her husband is taking care of her.

I talked to my husband about her situation, which is similar to mine...baby won't latch, baby is being bottle fed, feeling overwhelmed...and we thought about ways to advise her that would actually be helpful, not just talking out of our asses.  Here are some of the words of wisdom we came up with while brainstorming last night:

1) Sleep when the baby sleeps.  No, really.  SLEEP WHEN THE BABY SLEEPS.  If you can't sleep when he sleeps, then LIE DOWN.  Don't move.  Close your eyes.  Relax.

2) Pump when the baby is in a swing or asleep.  If you can't finish pumping because the baby wakes up or becomes fussy then cut your session short and pump again when he is content.  Use a hands-free pumping bra so you can actually do something other than hold two flanges up to your breasts.  Pump for no more than 20-25 minutes at a time, and less if you can get away with it.  Hand compressions help, so be firm but don't bruise yourself.  Drink lots of water while pumping.  For some strange reason, I always get thirsty when I am on the Medela.

3)  Don't worry about breast feeding so much.  It's great for the baby, but it's not worth losing your mind over.  If you are having a hideous time and are not crazy stubborn to keep it up like I am, then bottle feed or supplement.  There is no law that says you must breast feed.  The pressure put on new moms to breast feed is unfair and sometimes cruel.  Just because you bottle feed (we use breastflow bottles to avoid nipple confusion) your child does not mean you're a bad mother.  It's a choice you make, not a damaging decision that will hurt your baby.

However, if you choose to breast feed and you're hating it right now, I will say this:  It does get better.  It may not seem like it now, but in a few months, something happens.  Maybe the baby gets it.  Maybe his mouth gets bigger.  I have no idea what happened, but my baby went from hating breast to loving it.  The only good advice I ever received about it was "The more you do it, the better he will get at it.  Practice, practice, practice."  So I fed him and winced and cried while I did it.  Four months later, he's eating like a pro.

Use nipple shields, breast shells, and refrigerate gel pads if you can't stand the pain.  However, if you use nipple shields for a prolonged period of time, you will have to wean your baby off them and it may be difficult for a few weeks.  Talk to your local lactation center for advice and help if you use them, too.  They are usually quite good at what they do.  I didn't have as much luck with the La Leche League, but you might.  I generally got better advice from Kellymom.com.

So if you can stand the bloody, sore, peeling nipples that feel like they're on fire and about to fall off for two or three months, definitely try to hold out and keep up the feedings.  It may be hideous now, but it does get easier.  I have to admit, I was a naysayer, but now I see how whipping out your breast instead of mixing a bottle of formula is pretty much the simplest thing to do.

4) Eat well.  Eat often in little amounts.  DO NOT DIET.  The weight will come off eventually, if you get enough exercise and eat well, and especially if you are breast feeding and burning those extra 500 calories a day.  Also, drink lots of water.  Fluids are good for exhaustion and help your body normalize after the trauma of labor and delivery, IMHO.

5) Let people help you.  Do not say no to ANYTHING.  Take everything anyone gives you.  If someone offers to stop by with food, LET THEM.  Let people come over to hold the baby while you sleep or eat or even check your emails...so you can feel like a normal human being again.

On the other side of that coin, however...do NOT let relatives drive you crazy, and that includes your mother.  Whenever I said anything like, "I don't want people around right now, mom..." she would always respond in an insulted tone, "WELL I AM NOT PEOPLE!!"  Amen to that, you crazy humanoid.

That goes for inlaws, too.  Let them know, and let your significant other know, that you are calling the shots.  This is your time to heal, your time to bond, and you get to say when you want family over.  Now, if you have fabulous family, that's great.  Let them in, hand them the baby and have a love fest.

However, if your family is coo coo for cocoa puffs, then SHUT THE DOOR and tell them to come back when you're good and ready.  Don't feel guilty and don't worry about insulting them.  You have your own family now, and taking care of yourself is a part of making sure your child is healthy and happy, too.

6) Don't expect to be in love with motherhood right away.  If you are one of those lucky ladies that falls immediately in love with being a mom, then good on ya.  However, for me, it was hormones gone crazy.  I was miserable and exhausted.  I hated motherhood at first, and no one told me it was going to be that way.  All I ever heard was how amazing it was.  And it is.  Three months later.

7) Don't feel guilty.  If you make mistakes, you will not be doing anything that any other mother has done in the history of mothers.  You are a human being and you learn from your mistakes.  Take them as life lessons and appreciate them as they come.  Don't be hard on yourself, and you will be hard on yourself...harder than anyone else will be, probably.

If you are depressed, talk to someone.  Get help.  Don't wait.  Postpartum Depression is evil and must be wiped out.  There is always an option, be it therapy, medication (some are compatible with breast feeding) and resources.  Reach out and someone will catch you when you fall.

8) NIPPLE CREAM.  Loads of it.  Liberally apply nipple cream at every feeding and pumping.  Damaged nipples usually happens when skin dries out and becomes cracked.  I made the mistake of thinking my nipples were tough enough to take missing a few nipple cream applications.  I was wrong.  I got mastitis a second time at 3 1/2 months.

9) Clean everything that comes in contact with your nipples, and do not leave any wet nursing pads in contact with them.  Cleaning your pumping equipment will help keep you mastitis free, and you do not want mastitis.  It will knock you to your knees.  The nursing pads should be dry because wet and warm is where bacteria grows and you do NOT WANT THRUSH (yeast infection on your nipples) because it will most likely get into your baby's mouth.  Gross and hard to get rid of.

10) You don't have to do laundry every single day.  Let the crap pile up.  It's ok.  Pick a day during the time your husband is home and do a big clean, or better yet, let him clean.

11)  Your husband has to help more than he is, no matter how much he is helping you right now.  He may be awesome, but if you are feeling overwhelmed and tired, he needs to help more.  The reason?  If you just gave birth, you are still healing.  You won't heal if you are stressing out and not getting enough sleep.  You need to give him the bulk of the responsibilities.  That means handing off the baby when your husband/boyfriend comes home from work and taking some time to yourself.  You are working, too, after all.  And you don't get lunch breaks and have support staff to help you out when you're beat.

12)  Let your husband bottle feed your baby at night.  Let him take at least one feeding so you can get a good chunk of sleep.  Pump some milk for the night or supplement formula.  It won't hurt the baby, and in fact, some people think it's best to bottle feed at night so it will be easier to wean him later on.  Also, it's a good time for father to bond with baby.  He won't get that opportunity unless you relinquish a feeding or two.

13)  Don't pump on the highest setting.  Are you trying to rip your nipples off?  'Cus they don't grow back.

14)  The milk will come when the milk comes.  Don't stress if your milk doesn't come in right away or is low quantity.  It's actually not the quantity of milk that matters so much.  A few feedings a day should give your baby the nutrients and benefits from breast milk he needs for the entire day, no matter how much milk you give him.

15)  If you want to up your milk, take fenugreek and eat well.  Fenugreek comes in liquid form, pill form, and tea.  I took mine in tea, three cups a day, and it worked with a vengeance.  I was pumping upwards of 9-12 ounces a SESSION.  It was too much and eventually I had to step it back a little because it was causing plugged ducts.

16)  Freeze your milk supply.  Frozen milk, if stored properly, lasts at least 3 months.  If you have a separate freezer from your fridge, it lasts 6 months.  Save it for those days you want to leave the baby with a friend or daddy.

17) Let your friends come over.  You feel gross, right?  WHO CARES.  Let them come in and hold the baby while you take a shower and rinse the stink off.

18)  Call friends daily.  If you don't have a connection with a human being other than your baby or husband, you will go insane.  Even a ten minute conversation while walking the baby in a sling back and forth in your living room will help you feel normal again, even if only for that ten minutes.

19)  Sling sling sling.  They work and babies benefit from being close to you.  Kangaroo slings are awesome for my baby, although he's stretching the seams.  He sits in it while I walk around, and sometimes dozes off.  At 4 months old, babies don't nap like newborns do.  At times they need a little encouragement to go to sleep.  Later on, when they have better neck control, Ergos are awesome, although not as stylish as the Beco.  The Moby was interesting, but made me feel like either Obi Wan Kenobi or like I was being strangled with yards and yards of fabric.  And the Bjorn, although popular, hurt my back after the baby was heavier than 12 pounds.

20)  Binky it.  We use the gumdrop pacifier and our baby loves it.  Some people have an aversion to the pacifier.  I don't, and here's why.  He needs to be soothed, and he's sucking on my fingers when I need to use my fingers.  Also, pacifiers are said to help lower the risk of SIDS.  If you are worried about your kid being addicted to pacifiers and having the wean them later on, think about it:  You can take away the pacifier, but you can't take away his thumbs.

If you're concerned about the pacifier popping out of his mouth when he's falling asleep and waking him up, then put the pacifier in while he's falling asleep, and then wait until he's in deep REM.  Slooooowly take the pacifier out while he's sleeping.

If you use the pacifier only when he needs soothing, it shouldn't be too much of a concern, IMHO.

21)  Swaddle until he's too big.  We swaddled until 3 months.  Some swaddle to 6 months.  Babies love swaddling.  They sleep better swaddled, too.  We weaned him off the swaddle and he had a few restless weeks, but now he's fine.  Now we put him in The Guardian Sleeper.  Although he's still getting used to it, he's secure, warm, and won't roll over onto his stomach.

22)  Buy everything you need online.  If you don't live next to a baby supply store, ORDER AMAZON.  They literally have everything you would ever need, and usually at lower prices and with no shipping fees.  The items come to your door, and that removes one more trip to the store.

23)  If you are pumping, BUY EXTRA EQUIPMENT.  Buy lots and lots of bottles, tops with membranes, nipples for your bottles...so you don't have to constantly be washing everything.  Buy extra nipple flanges, too, and IN THE CORRECT SIZE.  I can't emphasize that enough. The wrong size rubs up against your nipple and causes friction and damage.  Your  nipple should NOT touch the sides of the flange.

24)  Join a mother's group, like the Day One centers, GGMG or a Yahoo group for moms or parents in your area.  Eventually, you will want to meet moms with babies the same age as yours.  Also, they often have great tips for childcare, infantcare, playgroups and used equipment you may not want to spend $100 on.  Some groups are free, while others are not.  DO IT.  You will be glad you did.

25) LEAVE YOUR HOUSE.  Take a walk.  Sling the baby while he's tiny and walk.  Don't take a humongous diaper bag with you.  My husband bought a tiny manly man diaper bag and he loves it.  It's compact and he can carry it on his shoulder without feeling like Mr. Mom.  All you're going to need is a few diapers, some wipes and an emergency bottle, if you're not breast feeding.  If you are breast feeding, bring a Hooter Hider instead.

26)  Don't be obsessive about the diaper cream.  Seriously, you'll go broke.  The baby will not get a raging case of diaper rash if you skip diaper cream a few times a day.  It's the acidic chemicals/ammonia dermatitis in urine that causes diaper rash most of the time.  Just be sure to wipe every little bit of your baby's bottom and front before sticking him back in the diaper.  Let him air out a little, if you can.  Babies like to be naked.  Just watch out for the boys...they will hose you if they feel so inclined.

27)  Two Costco sized boxes of diapers per size should do you.  We used two boxes from Costco Huggies in size one before the baby grew out of them.  Same for size two.  Don't go crazy with diaper purchases, however.  Wait for the sales and coupons.

28)  Sign up for the Enfamil and Similac sites.  Along with a bunch of spam and junk mail, you will get coupons for formula in the mail, and sometimes free samples.  Also, Walgreens coupons are sometimes 2 for 1 on formula.  If you get lucky like we did, you'll hit them on a day they're having a sale, use your coupon, and buy two big things of formula for $15.

29) Go to a restaurant while he's still a newborn.  The baby will sleep through most meals when he's tiny.  Not so much when he's bigger.

30) God forbid you get mastitis, but if you do USE A DISPOSABLE DIAPER and put warm/hot water in it until it is saturated, but not soaking and dripping.  Apply it to your breast to get the wet heat you need to get your milk flowing.  When it gets cold, microwave it for 5-10 seconds and it will be warm/hot again.  Be careful not to burn yourself.

Also, take warm to hot showers before pumping/feeding.  Cover your tender nipple with your hand and let the water hit your breast for a good 5-10 minutes.  Then, pump or feed to get the infection out.  When you get the infection to come out, you may or may not see gross stringy stuff in your milk and that's normal.  Your baby can eat it or you can strain it out, but let the baby have your milk.  All the antibodies that are fighting the infection in your breast will help him, too.

Call your advice nurse or doctor and they should just send the prescription to the pharmacy for you.  Have your husband/boyfriend pick it up, since most likely you will be too weak to go anywhere.  The antibiotics they give you are not the usual antibiotics, like Penicillin.  Take care to follow the instructions VERY CAREFULLY, or you may vomit or have nausea.

Sleep and pump constantly.  And if you have leftover meds from the labor/delivery for the pain, TAKE THEM.  Tylenol OR Motrin, but not both at simultaneously.

After you take all the antibiotics (TAKE ALL THE MEDS) then you should look into acidophilus or probiotics in pill form to replenish the good bacteria that was killed along with the bad.  If you don't, you are at greater risk of getting a yeast infection, otherwise known as the dreaded thrush. Take the pills during or after the course of antibiotics, it doesn't really matter as far as I can tell.  But take them.

What causes Mastitis?  Bacteria, not emptying your milk often enough, and STRESS.  If you are not taking care of yourself or do not have a good support system, you are more vulnerable to Mastitis.  Take care of yourself.

Kellymom is a great site for breast feeding issues.  Use it!

31)  White noise.  It saved us many nights.  Most babies love white noise because it reminds them of the womb.  It soothes babies to sleep and makes them calmer, for the most part.  We use For Crying Out Loud and the Sleep Sheep.  If your baby is freaking out and screaming, try shushing.  It does work, although it seems weird to be two inches from the baby's ear while making a continuous "SHHHHHHHH" noise.  Do it loudly enough and he will usually calm down.

32)  The DVD Happiest Baby on the Block is worth purchasing if you're having confusion and questions about how to soothe your baby.  We also loved the Armin Brott books and DVDs.

33) We received a wipes warmer as a gift and ended up loving it.  Newborns hate the wet cold wipe in the middle of the night, and it wakes them up in a jarring way. The warm wipe took some of the bite out of that midnight changing.

34)  Speaking of midnight changings, DON'T.  If your baby is wet, let him ride it out if he is still sleeping.  It won't hurt to leave him in a diaper that's wet overnight.  Disposable diapers, if you're using them, don't leave them soaking wet anyway.  Unless it's poop or leaking, leave it be.

35)  If your baby is sleeping through the night (LUCKY YOU) then DON'T wake him/her for feedings. I was advised this before I gave birth and thank God I didn't listen.  We slept well the first three months of the baby's life because he was a great sleeper.  As long as your baby is gaining weight and healthy, he doesn't need to be fed every two hours.  If your baby is underweight, you may be advised by your pediatrician to wake him for feedings, however.

37)  Your hair will fall out.  And I mean it will FALL OUT.  You will think you are going bald at 2 or 3 months.  You won't.  My husband is keen on saying, "You're hair is NORMALIZING.  This is the amount of hair that didn't fall out when you were pregnant."

38)  When the baby hits a certain age, the jumper seat and the kicky seat.  Get them second hand if you can, but they are terrific for play time.  And you can put them in the bathroom while you take a shower, which is AWESOME.  The jumper is for when the baby has good neck control.  The kicky seat is great for any age up to the weight restriction.  Swings are great, if you can afford one, but not absolutely necessary, IMHO.

39)  For you iPhone users, the Total Baby application is awesome for keeping track of diaper changes, feedings, sleep schedules, bathing schedules...anything and everything you want to monitor.  It also averages out everything for you, so you can see what you are doing with the little guy.  We use it religiously and it keeps everything on a consistent schedule.

40)  Don't listen to any advice you don't need or want, including this post I'm writing now.  All women are different.  All babies are unique.  What may work for one may not work for another.  It's not as if there's a rule book that gives you all the answers...otherwise motherhood would be a breeze...and we all know it's not.

41)  Lastly, things do change.  You will not always feel like jumping off a bridge.  You will not always be fighting with your husband because you are both sleep deprived.  It will taper off eventually.

The cruel part is:  Post Partum Depression and baby blues arrive just when you're feeling your worst...right after delivery and when you're thrown into this new world of responsibility.  I told a friend the other day that motherhood, while amazing and rewarding, was like totally deconstructing my old life and building a completely new one from scratch in record time.  I also said it was not uncommon for me to wake up some mornings completely forgetting I had a baby and feeling a weightlessness.  Although that sounds horrible, even as I type it, it's honest.  Some days I just want my old life back.

But what always comes through that doubt and insecurity and feeling of being drowned in responsibility is that baby.  What an incredible gift.  With all the complaining, bitching, moaning and times of pain and suffering, you get a prize.  And he's nothing you would ever trade a lifetime of freedom for.

I won't say it gets easier, however, as many moms told me when I complained.  It becomes hard in a different way.  You get used to the difficulties.  You learn how to tolerate and cope.  You become a mother...the mother you always wanted to be. Be positive whenever possible.  Cry when you want to.  Lean on your family and friends if you can.  Stay strong, and hold out for that moment when the lightbulb appears above your head.  It will come and it will be enlightening.

Beastfeeding

Ok, so the thing about breastfeeding is this:  Everything that everyone says about it is absolutely true.  It's amazing, wonderful, fabulous, and brings you a closeness to your child that you will probably never ever experience again in your relationship.  It's truly one of those things that makes you feel more "motherly" because you are nourishing your child with the best possible food...your own milk generated by your body.

But that's the sugary sweet stuff that people love to ram down your throat when you're in the midst of trying to teach your little beastie how to latch on correctly while he chomps, pulls, and scrapes most of your nipple off your breast, and, as most of us know, nipples don't grow back after they fall off.

Here's my take on breastfeeding:  It's horrible.  It's terrible.  It's scarring.  I hated it.  And here's my story of how I came to not hate it so much.

When I was in the hospital, surrounded by the lactation specialists, I was taught the first thing about breastfeeding that every new mother hears:  Do NOT use bottles.  Do NOT supplement.  Keep trying until it works.

I did.  I tried.  Even with no milk for 9 days, I kept trying.  But after the sixth day of nothing but the colostrum, which I never personally saw come out, the baby started screaming.  And when I say "screaming" I mean "YOU ARE KILLING ME, BAD PARENTS!"

My husband and I decided to use formula that day.  We gave our little man two ounces of Similac, which he promptly guzzled down...and then passed out for eight hours of sleep.  It was the first time we had seen him sleep peacefully since the hospital.

That was the day we also decided to supplement with formula.  My milk came in four days later, but it was a pathetic amount that barely filled a two ounce bottle.  I pumped religiously eight times a day and took fenugreek tea until my supply was up to par, but it was still impossible.  The baby would not latch.

The other issue were my nipples, which were bloody raw and so painful I could not even wear a shirt or take a shower without crying out in pain.  Whenever I had to feed the baby, I would literally sob.  It was ridiculously bad.  Contracting mastitis certainly didn't help matters much.  Seeing puss come out of your nipples is worse than seeing blood, believe it or not.

I used nipple cream, which probably saved me some serious suffering, and gel pads, which were a Godsend.  But still, the baby was not latching properly and my nipples were being destroyed.  It was a truly traumatic experience to feed him, which was not helping with my milk supply any.  The stress made pumping difficult, as it often causes your milk to deplete.

I visited the lactation specialist weekly, bringing the baby in and trying to teach him how to eat.  It helped, but not enough, and the baby kept nibbling instead of sucking.  We used all the paraphernalia available...nipple shields, breast shields, warm wet diapers on the breast to get the milk moving...nothing worked well enough to ease the pain.

A month passed and we still used bottles, even with the threat of nipple confusion looming overhead.  But I was still breastfeeding during the day and using supplements only at night, so I could rest.  We used special breastflow bottles to help with the nipple confusion, which worked, I believe.

Two months passed, and even after a nasty bout of mastitis I persisted.  I was determined to keep breastfeeding, even though my own doctor told me it was ok to stop.  The pressure to continue came from everywhere, especially the mother's groups that seemed fanatical about it.  It was a breastfeeding cult.

Even after the two month mark, the time everyone told me when things would get better, I was suffering through the feedings.  The baby was thriving on bottled milk I expressed daily, which in itself was pure hell.  But I was miserable.  Breastfeeding was not a joy, nor was it the amazing bonding experience I had imagined it would be.  In fact, I began resenting the baby.  The guilt over not being able to nurse him was killing my self-esteem and I was starting to dwell in my post-partum depression.  After researching anti-depressant medication and breastfeeding, I refused to take the medication my doctor prescribed to battle the baby blues, which had not gone away since the birth.  My emotions were running ramshackle and driving me insane...and failing at breastfeeding was fueling the insanity.

Three months passed, and a second bout of mastitis nearly ended it.  The first time I had a breast infection, I nearly quit breastfeeding for good.  I told myself it was a sign from the almighty.  But when the infection ended, the baby started nursing again and his latch had miraculously improved.  I was encouraged enough to continue.

But the second time I had mastitis I was finished with breastfeeding.  It was stupid to continue, I thought.  How could I keep doing this to myself?  Is it worth it just to give him milk from my breast?  I could express it and he would still get the nutrients.  THIS MUST STOP.

The infection finally went away, and when I was ready I breastfed.  I took the first feeding with a great deal of trepidation, feeling the dread of the first painful latch.  Instead, I was shocked to find that the baby latched easily, drank long, slow draws of milk, and everything had magically turned right side up again.  Breastfeeding had become easy, suddenly and without any graduation.  It was that instantaneous.

I have no idea how it happened.  I tried to guess...maybe his mouth grew?  Maybe he's just matured into a good nurser?  The mystery remains.

So you new mothers out there struggling with breastfeeding your newborn baby, take heed/comfort...it is harder than you ever believed it could be.  But yes, it does get easier.  For me, it was three months.  But no one ever tells you how difficult it will be before it does.



Things I wished knew about breastfeeding before I started:

1) It hurts beyond pain.  The BS I heard over and over again was that if it hurts, you're not doing it right.  The latch is wrong, the baby's mouth is off-center, you need to get the whole areola in his mouth...the pain is your fault or your baby's fault.  Breastfeeding doesn't hurt.

Look...nipples are sensitive before you even start breastfeeding.  After you begin the latching and the nursing, they feel like they are on fire.  You have this little mouth on you, struggling to suck milk out of your ducts.  My baby sucked so hard in the hospital that a duct actually CAME OUT.  It was hanging off my nipple like a bloody teardrop.  And the nurse had the balls to tell me it was NORMAL?!  Please.

2) Nipple cream helps (Motherlove is awesome), gel pads and breast shields also help, but nothing will really help.  It will hurt until it doesn't anymore.  And even when it supposedly doesn't hurt, it's still not completely comfortable.

3) I used nipple shields, per the instructions from the lactation specialist.  What they didn't tell me was that the baby would have to be weaned off the shields, which, when the time came, was very difficult.

4) Milk letdown HURT.  It was like lightening pain down my breasts.  In a few months, however, it now feels just like a pinch.

5) The baby sucks so hard my nipples turn temporarily white and I get shooting pain, which is a sign of vasospasms.

6) I felt like the baby was rejecting ME.  It wasn't just the breast he was refusing, it felt like he was telling me to shove off.  It hurt my feelings and I cried...a LOT.  Crazy hormones did not help any.

7) Feeding the baby with a bottle was not hard.  In fact, it was easy.  And there was no nipple confusion.  He literally takes anything and sucks on it.  We did use special bottles that helped, however, and we listened to the lactation specialist and followed her instructions to a tee.

8) Mastitis is evil.  Don't get it.  And if you do get it, go to Kellymom and get all the advice you can.

After you get mastitis, don't get thrush, which is a yeast infection for breasts/nipples.  If you do get it, your baby will probably also get it, and it's very difficult to get rid of.  To avoid thrush after mastitis, take probiotics or acidophilus to counteract the antibiotics the doctor will most likely give you to get rid of the infection.  And change your breast pads often.  Don't let your nipples sit in a wet, moist environment.

9) Let your nipples breathe.  Go without a bra after feedings and just air dry.  They need air to heal.  Then slather on the nipple cream.  Be generous with it.

10) Use gel pads on your nipples.  Put them in the refrigerator and make them cool first, then apply after feedings.  It helps with the pain for a short while.

11) Use a wet, warm disposable diaper on your breast to get the milk flowing, if you have trouble with the letdown.  If the diaper becomes cold, pop it in the microwave for 5-10 seconds and it will warm up nicely.  Be careful not to burn yourself if you're using the microwave.

12) Take hot showers.  Cover your nipples with your hands and let the water hit your breasts.  This will help get the milk flowing, too.

13) Pumping is hideous.  Buy lots of supplies, so you don't have to wash everything every time you pump.  Don't use the highest setting, and don't pump for long periods when you don't have to.  When pumping, drink water.  Also, try to zone out so you don't go insane.  I used to watch television, but now I read books.  It helps make the monotony a little easier to take.

If you are pumping, make sure you have the correct size flanges.  If your nipples are touching the sides of the flange, you should get a larger size.

14) Breastfeeding in public is not as easy as they say.  It's much easier to give the kid a bottle, IMHO, especially if you're shy like I am.  Whipping out a boob in public is hard if you're not completely comfortable with being semi-nude in front of strangers.  If you use a  nursing cover or hooter hider, breastfeeding with your baby squirming underneath a little colorful tent is most definitely going to be a peep show for some lucky dude walking by you.  So no, it's not easy...at least for me.  At home?  Piece of cake.  In public?  Not so much.

15) There are two sides to every coin.  There is the side that says breastfeeding is the miracle of nutrition, and that your baby will be dumb as a stump, get ear infections all the time, be sickly with allergies...blah blah blah...if you don't breastfeed.  Then there's the other side that says it's untrue that breastfeeding gives you all the benefits claimed.  Yes, your baby may have fewer ear infections.  But all the other stuff is really opinion.

You can pick a side, but either way, there is proof for both arguments.

16) Nursing shouldn't take forever.  At first, it will, and it will eat up your entire day mercilessly.  I would feed the baby 30-40 minutes EACH SIDE and be completely doubled over in pain and miserable.  Ugh.  But now that he's got it down and knows how to nurse correctly, he eats for about 8 minutes total.  Remember, you aren't a milk machine.  Your milk will get on a schedule as your baby does, so give it some time and be patient.  A doctor told my friend that a newborn gets all the nutrients and benefits he needs to stimulate the immune system from a few ounces of breastmilk a day.  Just a few.  The rest is just gravy (and bonding, natch.)

Dr. Newman has a great site that shows babies nursing correctly and incorrectly, in case you're interested.

17) Formula is not the devil.  Honestly, people who think formula is poison for the baby are a tad fanatical.  In fact, some pediatricians believe a little formula is a good thing, when it's fortified with vitamin D.

18)  Set short goals.  When you start breastfeeding, don't jump the gun and say, "I'm going to breastfeed for a YEAR!" because you'll beat yourself up if you decide breastfeeding isn't for you.  Just make your goals a month at a time.  At one month, I patted myself on the back and said, "Ok, two months."  It's helped me not give up completely.

19) Don't listen to women who say things definitively.  Women are different, and everyone has a different experience with breastfeeding.  There is no rule book out there that will give you the answers for the entire breastfeeding population on the planet.  What may be right for one woman may be completely wrong for another.  Own your experience and learn from your mistakes.  Don't beat yourself up over breastfeeding just because someone else says you should.

20) It gets easier, but you'll want to quit a million times before it does.  And if you do stop, you're not a bad person.  If your baby is thriving, gaining weight and growing, you are doing a great job at nourishing him.  Formula, breastmilk, bottles or boob, you are doing right by your baby.

The No-Fun Sonogram

Sonograms were usually a fun treat whenever my husband and I went to the doctor's office.  In fact, we were addicted to them, and would slyly interject the suggestion every time we went in for a checkup.  "Sooo, are we going to see our baby today?"  My husband was a cool operator, but rarely did the doctor say yes.  We managed to get a few extra glimpses at our son, but it was always after some form of begging.  Embarrassing?  Sure...but every visit we asked anyway.

The last sonogram I had was last week, and it was the NO FUN sonogram.  This was a sonogram of my right breast, which contained what felt like a small, pea sized lump that hadn't gone away as my ob/gyn had hoped.

I was referred to a breast surgeon, who then referred me to the sonogram/ultrasound department where I had an obscene amount of jelly goo put on my chest.  They checked for about ten minutes, and then called in the head radiologist to take a final look.  She poked around with the wand and said, "Well, I can't tell you that I see anything for certain.  I'll send the films over to your doctor and you'll get a call."  That was last week. No call yet.

In the end, there was no prognosis, seeing as there were no actual doctors in the room to make a definitive decision.  I am not awaiting a call from my specialist who will give me the news that it's probably nothing (crossing fingers, toes, and eyeballs.)

Four Month Old?

I have this friend who also has a lovely little boy baby.  He is 8 months old.  Last week we had this exchange on a thread:

ME:  He's 4 months old and so heavy.  18 pounds!!

FRIEND:  18 pounds!?  My baby is 8 months and HE'S 18 pounds!

ME:  Yeah, well, my baby is really long, too.  27 inches!

FRIEND:  MY baby is 27 inches, too!

ME:  (pause)  I HAVE A HUMONGOUS GIGANTIC BABY!!!!

FRIEND:  You have a healthy, thriving baby!

ME:  YES!  A HEALTHY, THRIVING BABY WHO WILL EAT YOUR BABY IF YOU PUT HIM IN THE SAME PLAY PEN!


Ok, so the conversation didn't exactly go like that.  But it was close.

Doctor, Doctor

The 4 month visit is misleading, since the baby isn't yet 4 months...YET.  He is hitting that milestone in a few weeks.

However, the visit was revealing.  My sore wrist and aching back do not lie.  He weighs just shy of 18 pounds and is 26 inches long!

That's pretty much 90th percentile in everything.  No wonder he's ripping his 3-6 month sized clothes apart like a little baby Hulk.

P.S.  I stayed to see him get his vaccination shots...and although it was horrible for me to see, I did not cry.  He did, however, lightweight that he is.

A Wrinkle In Time

Seeing the date of my last post has made me realize how time has mysteriously disappeared in the blink of an eye.  It seems like yesterday I typed on this computer, and now it's December.  I'm losing my ability to appreciate the minutes passing by and the seconds ticking away.  Time is the enemy...it is quickly making my baby into a toddler.

Getting used to the new addition has not been an easy transition.  Sleep has been hard to come by lately, since he hit the three month mark.  He has stopped sleeping through the night and now wakes every two to three hours to feed, be changed, or to cuddle.  This can be attributed to the three month growth spurt he was scheduled to have, but I believe it's also what is known as sleep regression.  His brain is simply too active to shut down at night, causing him to wake up to learn and grow.

Since my husband is awesome, he has taken the night shift since birth.  I have been able to sleep fairly well, even if it's not the deep REM sleep I crave.  Without sleep, I fear, I would be a monster during the day.  Depression without sleep is a scary thing.  My husband is understanding of this fact and takes on the task of night feedings without question.  He's a great father, and always says he loves the time he can spend with his baby son, even if he's bleary-eyed by morning.

I believe I am getting used to the routine of motherhood, although some days, like today, I feel like I'm burnt out and tired of the monotony.  The baby is pure light and love, no doubt.  But I am occasionally overwhelmed by the huge changes and want to run away from it all.  My husband doesn't seem to understand how it affects me adversely to be with our son all day long, all week long.  He goes to work, and although he works hard he also gets breaks, has peers to talk to, has mini-escapes.  I am confined to the baby, and that's the entirety of my day.

In other news, I have lost all the baby weight.  However this does not mean I have gained back any of the muscle tone.  If I suck in my gut 24/7, I can fit into my jeans again.  However, as soon as I take a breath, I look like the before picture in a Weight Watcher's ad.

My hair is also falling out in fistfuls, but so is the baby's.  By the end of the year, we'll both require comb-overs.

Over the River and Through the Woods

Too many grandmas...that's my problem. I know some would say that's not a problem at all. Some would consider it a blessing to have two sets of grandparents involved in your child's life. I am not "some people" and have always been ungrateful in the respect that I can not be around family for extended periods of time without developing a stress rash or the urge to hurl myself off a tall building. That's not meant to be cruel, but it is the truth.

My mother has been slowly driving me to an early grave. I can't listen to the phone ring anymore without cringing, and my left eye has developed a twitch that borders on a tick. My mother has taken to the bad practice of just "stopping by" whenever she feels like it. When my husband asked her to please call ahead of time and give us at least a day notice, she became horribly offended and said, "I'm not going to ASK PERMISSION to visit. I KNOW YOU'RE THERE WITH THE BABY." Can we all agree that it's just creepy? I nearly crawled out of my own skin when my husband told me what she had said. GET YOUR OWN BABY, CRAZY LADY.

Other than that, I must admit it's sweet to see her with the kid, cooing and talking her maniacal, loud nonsense to him over and over again. He loves the babble, and although I worry that he will come to like the incessant high volume of noise she exudes, I am glad he makes her a little happy during this time of hardships for her. She has been dealing with a Democrat in office and can't manage to hold back her resentment and hatred of liberals in the White House.

Oh yes, it's practically a Republican convention up in here. I hope it isn't rubbing off. Can babies catch conservative right-wing disease?

The husband has been enjoying the company of his own parents for the past four days (and counting) and has had many opportunities to parade his son around and show him off. All in all I've been taking it easy from the visit this year, hiding out in my room with a cold and napping most of the day away. But occasionally, I've run upstairs to rescue the baby from watching television and having loud toys held up to his face. The overstimulation is making him cranky, methinks.

I can't understand the logic of vacationing away from home just to sit in front of the television for hours on end. It makes no sense to me, and I've always been a little bugged by it. They just stay in the house. They don't go anywhere. Year after year, it's the same.

So Thanksgiving this year was not full of thanks, I'm afraid. I was not in a good place psychologically, which I will blame on being sick with a cold.

Actually, I am thankful it wasn't the swine flu. So there.

Three Months

The three month mark has arrived, and I can hardly believe how big this kid has gotten.  He must weigh at least 15 pounds, if not more.  His head is bobble-headed and feels like a bowling ball.  He's developed the tell-tale signs of a big boy...chub bracelets on his arms and legs.  He has grown out of his zero to 3 month clothing, which made me a little misty just typing it.

He is no longer a newborn.  He is now a real honest-to-goodness baby.  Wow.

Bump to Lump

It's still there. The lump.

In my third trimester, I found a lump in my right breast. It was fairly small, but it was hard and didn't move. I'd say it was about the size of a pea.

The doctor said there was little we could do about it at that point, since my breasts were lumpy anyway due to the impending flow of milk. She said to keep an eye on it and wait a few months. If it didn't go away, she'd check it again and refer me to a breast surgeon to get a second opinion.

Well, it's still there. I have my appointment with my doctor next week, and I'll be pushing for a referral for the breast surgeon. I don't want to take any chances, since my mother just recently battled breast cancer.

Also, I just found out a friend of mine had a mastectomy and didn't say anything until it was over and done with. She just didn't want to take any chances, so she cut most of her breast off.

I take that as a sign that I should take this to heart and take care not to ignore a flashing sign in my face when it's there. Although I'm praying it's nothing, I know that if it's something, I'll be better off knowing sooner than later.

Cross your fingers and wish me luck.

Two Months

Today on his two month birthday I said this:

"I'm just starting to feel like I couldn't imagine not having him."

I believe I'm almost over the hump. The postpartum depression is still egging me on from time to time. Anxiety attacks hit without warning, and my mother is driving me insane. I have had hideous thoughts about her, and actually looked up real estate in Illinois so I can dream about getting away from her. She is truly crazy and not helping at all at this point.

The doctors have been checking up on me with some consistency, and they dispense medication at the drop of a hat. But I've been resisting the urge to pop an anti-depressant, due to the breast feeding. Every time I'm tempted, I am awash with feelings of guilt. It is impossible for that pill to pass my lips knowing it will end up in the baby.

So I deal with the feelings of dread and worry, knowing most of it is in my head and totally irrational: No, the baby won't die in his sleep. No, he isn't a down syndrome baby. No, he isn't going to be kidnapped. No, you won't fall down the stairs and die and leave the baby in the house alone, screaming for his mother who is dead as a door nob.

It's a daily battle, and I sometimes wish I wouldn't wake in the mornings so I don't have to face it again. But I love my son, and my son needs a healthy mother. I need to pull it together somehow and beat this depression.

Holding Out

Every day, I hold out until 4:00 p.m. That's the time I know my husband is on his way home. I imagine him weaving in and out of traffic trying to get to the front door. It's comforting and relieves some of the anxiety I always have built up in my gut at that time. It usually sits there from noon until evening, poking my stomach, daring me to eat something spicy.

Now that the breast infection, also known as mastitis HELL, has pretty much gone, I am dealing with plugged ducts. It's as if someone is testing me, or testing my breasts.

A plugged duct is not nearly as horrific as mastitis. Instead, it's just annoying and achey pain that seems to go on and on and on. I've been massaging it for a while but it's stubborn. I have a feeling I'm in for more of this kind of discomfort as long as I breast feed. People keep telling me it will get better after two or so months, so I hold out. But it just keeps getting more and more frustrating and I'm losing patience.

I'm feeling the beginnings of being burnt out. Five days a week, nine to ten hours a day I'm alone with my baby, trying to soothe him, play with him, keep him happy, content...it's more exhausting than I thought it would be. It's also hard to stop and enjoy being a mother when you're so tired, although I try to remember to be thankful for what I've got in my arms, even when it's screaming bloody murder.

Mastitis Hell

At 5:15 in the morning, I sit on the couch watching Tivo'd shows feeling not unlike a naughty kid trying to get away with something she shouldn't be doing. That's what motherhood feels like to me when I get a moment to myself...I'm getting away with something.

But the reason I'm up at 5:15 in the morning instead of sleeping while the baby slumbers is something far more sobering than daydreaming about being a naughty kid. I have mastitis.

For those who have never had mastitis, here's a medical description from Dr. Sears:

Mastitis means that the breast is inflamed, and there is swelling, redness, tenderness and pain. There may be an infection, so it is wise to consult your health-care provider to determine whether or not an antibiotic is necessary. A breast infection can become a breast abscess that requires surgical draining, but this can almost always be prevented by treating mastitis promptly.

Signs of mastitis include:

• Part or all of the breast is intensely painful, hot, tender, red, and swollen. Some mothers can pinpoint a definite area of inflammation, while at other times the entire breast is tender.

• You feel tired, run down, achy, have chills or think you have the flu. A breastfeeding mother who thinks she has the flu probably has mastitis. Mothers with mastitis will sometimes experience these flu-like symptoms, even before they get a fever or notice breast tenderness.

• You have chills or feel feverish, or your temperature is 101F or higher.These symptoms suggest that you have an infection.

• You are feeling progressively worse, your breasts are growing more tender, and your fever is becoming more pronounced. With simple engorgement, a plugged duct, or mastitis without infection, you gradually feel better instead of worse.

• Recent events have set you up for mastitis: cracked or bleeding nipples, stress or getting run down, missed feedings or longer intervals between feedings.

Now here's my personal description of mastitis:

First, you feel like you may shiver to death. It comes out of nowhere and hits you like a sledgehammer. Then, the fever comes on even faster. Mine rose from 101 to 103 in less than a few hours.

So you think, "Hm, I have the flu. This too shall pass." But NO. It shall NOT pass. It shall continue to get worse until you are praying for death. In fact, you FEEL like death. One of your breasts suddenly starts getting pink in a spot, then it gets warm. Perhaps it starts to itch. One way or another, your breast is in pain. You notice it most when you try to breast feeding and your baby's tongue feels like it has spikes on it. It literally brought tears to my eyes.

Then you call the advice nurse or the lactation specialist. She gets you connected with your doctor who prescribes you some antibiotics that will supposedly kill whatever has obviously created evil in your milk ducts. While you are waiting for your medication to work you pump 10-12 times a day or your breastfeed constantly to drain your breast of the infection. Sounds gross to be feeding your baby infected boob milk? The baby is the one who probably gave you the infection, so he/she won't mind.

Now the antibiotics have been in your system for a little while and suddenly you start to feel queasy. You pick up the instructions for the meds and see the first symptoms on the sheet...nausea and vomiting. Then, you vomit.

You can't eat because you feel sick to your stomach 24/7. Then, you can eat, but you throw it up. Meanwhile, you're still trying to get rid of the fever and pain you've had for two days with prescription Motrin, which you can't take on an empty stomach. But wait, you can't take antibiotics unless you're on an empty stomach. You're screwed.

So here I sit at 5:15 in the morning, starving, but on antibiotics. I pray the meds will get rid of this crap because I can't seem to get over the feeling that I may actually be dying of mastitis. I may be the first person ever on the planet to die from this stupid infection. I'll be in all the medical journals for sure.

It's all in the name of breast feeding my baby. Am I being punished for having inverted nipples? Or maybe it's because I've been sneaking a supplement of formula in at night when I'm too tired to nurse...either way, someone up there hates my guts...and my boob.

Changes

Losing friends is messed up. Losing friends because you had a baby is confusing. The hard truth is that I have lost friends over this huge life change, and there's nothing I can do about it.

I can't give the baby away. I can't shove it back in. I can't turn back time. I'm no longer one. I am two now, and three, if you count the terrific husband.

But some friends believe they have to discard friends because they have something new that does not fit into their lifestyle. They stop seeing you as someone who can relate to their life. It's harsh, and possibly true. Maybe I can't relate, or maybe I don't fit anymore. I'm the square peg in their round hole world.

But it's painful. I'm in pain right now, for one. I have mastitis and can barely function....and I look around me and see no one to call to come over and give me comfort. It's hard.

After the baby was born, I was in a very dark place. I still linger there on occasion, yet I manage to dig myself out every time with the skin of my teeth. Yet when I was at my lowest point in this whole journey into motherhood, no one was sitting by me to hold my hand. I was without a friend.

I do have friends, that's certain. But the closest friends I have are scattered to the far ends of the earth, as far as I'm concerned. They're in Chicago, Hawaii, London, New York...no where close by where I can get a daily dose of support. Phone calls and emails just don't cut it sometimes.

The closest friends I have in the area are too busy or simply gone. Gone in spirit, in heart, in mind. I'm feeling like I'm on the "out" list with this baby on my arm. It makes me sad.

Friendships are supposed to be bulletproof, even when babies are the bullets.

Baby Mine

The baby smells good. I love his scent right out of the bath. I put my hand on his head and feel his freshly washed hair and it's like down feathers. He's so lovely.

I love him. He is precious, clean or not. But straight out of a bath he is perfect. It's as if he was just handed to me, reborn and placed on my chest so I can nuzzle my face into his and take in a deep breath. That's the memory I have.

He smells the same way he did when he was born when he's right out of the bath.

Alone with Company

Today was the first rain of the season, and boy it was a doozy. Monsoon-like torrents fell from the skies like a warning from God: Be a good mommy or I will smite you with the croup baby from Hell.

Today was also the first day I felt truly, absolutely alone. It was a haunting feeling of seclusion that overwhelmed me around noon, when nap time was over and Chucky wanted to plaaa-aayyy...

Baby started bemoaning the lack of milk coming from my breasts. Then, it took too long to warm up the bottle of expressed milk. After eating, he was uncomfortably gassy. And then he was too damn tired to nap. All in all, a stormy day inside and out.

But it wasn't the squirmy baby that just discovered he had the capability to raise the volume to eleven that drove me to near insanity today. It was the fact that it was raining and I no longer had the choice to go outside. There was no break from the monotony of the couch, Tivo remote, and finicky baby on my lap. I had no options. It was maddening.

It was also lonely. I realized how isolated I was feeling, and that it was a familiar feeling I had been having since the husband returned to work full time. Having no friends with babies, I was the odd-man-out among my non-child-having pals who sometimes looked at me as if I had a third eye. They had all scattered as soon as I brought the little dude home. The few friends who love babies, regardless of their situation, are in other parts of the country, or out of the country altogether.

So, here I sit, friendless, lonely, and bored to tears. My little buddy is staring at me like I'm a milk dispenser. My husband won't be home until it's too late to save me from another anxiety attack. I wait with iPhone in hand, playing scrabble. I feel like The Little Prince...but the version where the Prince is lactating and hasn't taken a shower in days.

Truths

After months of irresponsible Googling and good/bad/horrible advice I received from numerous sources, I finally had my moment and gave birth to a son...and it was NOTHING like what was described to me from dozens of people who shared their birth stories with me.

1) I was in labor for 22 hours, 20 of which were relatively painless thanks to the epidural.

2) The epidural did not hurt at all. I barely felt the needle and catheter go in.

3) I had a catheter put in to collect urine. No one told me this would happen, and they still wouldn't let me drink water even though it did.

4) The epidural bag ran out, which was horribly painful. Once they replaced it, it was never quite the same. My leg went numb for about 3 days afterwards.

5) The epidural did not make me shake uncontrollably, like so many warned. Also, I did not get nauseous from medication given to me pre-birth.

6) A resident delivers your baby, not your OB/GYN.

7) I did not poop/pee on the table during delivery.

8) I could totally feel the contractions during the pushing part of the delivery, which was beyond painful.

9) I did not feel the head or shoulders come out. All I felt was relief.

10) The resident/doctor scraped my uterus with her hand and it was worse than the delivery of the baby.

11) I had a medium tear, due to the suctioning of the baby. It was not painful at all. In fact, I never felt pain from the tear.

12) I DID feel terrible pain from the hemorrhoids. They were the size of walnuts. The first bowel movement after giving birth was really frightening, and for good reason.

13) The hospital stay was awesome, post delivery.

14) The baby does not instinctively know how to nurse. Breast-feeding in the hospital was a bad experience for me, and continues to be extremely challenging nearly six weeks later.

15) The nurses/doctors/lactation specialist do not discuss formula. Ever. And they push the breast-feeding like a cult. It's a lot of pressure on the mother, and it shouldn't be.

16) Colostrum isn't always enough for the baby.

17) They massage your abdomen after delivery and it HURTS. However, they need to do it to get the placenta out. Mine did not cooperate, however, no matter how much they massaged.

18) After you go home, you're so shell-shocked you don't know which end is up and you are in so much pain you want to die. Medication saves you a little suffering, but what is essential is an amazing husband/family member/friend.

19) Having visitors right after getting home SUCKS. It's more of a chore for you than a help, in my case.

20) Your mother/mother-in-law WILL drive you insane, no matter how good the intentions.

21) The baby will not be cute until he/she has somewhat of a routine established. For me, it took two weeks to get there.

22) You may not bond with your child right away, and that's ok. It will happen when you're not exhausted, in pain, or depressed from the hormones raging through your system.

23) The "Baby Blues" can be "severe depression" in disguise.

24) I did not have a raging appetite due to my breast-feeding.

25) My body looks like hell. I lost 30 pounds, but still look 6 months pregnant. Also, my breasts look like deflated footballs.

Waiting for the Flood

I read my own gripes and complaints and I feel guilty about how ungrateful I must seem. Honestly, I feel blessed to have this amazing experience. I have been waiting a long time to be a mother, and now that the moment has arrived, it doesn't seem real. It's as if I'm watching a reality show with someone else as the star.

When the baby was born, the first day was exciting and unbelievable. I was in love immediately, but it didn't last. The first two weeks were so brutal, I didn't feel that connection or bond that mothers are supposed to feel with their newborns. I felt so detached, apart from the family unit. It was a horrible feeling. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die from the guilt.

In the third week, things were still healing, but it was tolerable. The baby was getting into his routine. I wasn't crying every minute of the day anymore. It became more of a reality...I was taking care of a new baby. But I still did not feel like the mother of this child. I loved him because I was his mother, but I didn't feel the bond. It just didn't feel honest.

A month old and the baby was into his routine like a pro. The pain was nearly gone, except for the breastfeeding, which was (and still remains) terribly hard. I had my husband to help me, even if it was part of the day. My head seemed cloudy, I was still exhausted, but feeling more levelheaded. I was still waiting for that epiphany that would jolt me into reality. My body had just gone through this incredible experience of pregnancy and childbirth. It pushed a baby out into the world. It knew I was a mother. But my mind was still closed off to the idea. After nearly four decades of taking care of me, myself and I, my mind was not ready to accept the fact that I had a new life to look after. It was a commitment I was not ready to accept.

Then one day, suddenly, the baby spit up blood (which turned out to be MY blood from breastfeeding, but little did I know until we called the advice nurse.)

I panicked. The thought of the baby being sick made me want to vomit. I couldn't stand the thought of losing my child. The very idea of him in pain made me cry hysterically.

This is when I bonded with my child.

When your body and mind don't agree on what reality is, ultimately it will be your heart that will break the tie.

Update

Emotions have been controlled this week. The husband went back to work full time on Thursday, which made me want to run away from home or hire a nanny, either one. At first I felt complete panic. Being left alone with a newborn for 8-9 hours seemed impossible to me, considering I had been crying nonstop the first two weeks of his life. When he cried, I cried. When he screamed, I had to leave the room. How was I going to survive for the entire day without help?

Thursday and Friday went without too much trouble, however, and increased my confidence level a tad. Although I still feel anxiety, I know that I can hold out until my husband comes home. At least I hope I can.

My energy is still low, and knowing my history I know it's depression that's sapping my strength and not the baby. Not to say the baby isn't work. It's hard to imagine a more stressful job. But there are moments with him that make me at peace. He can be the most calming influence when he's quietly staring at me with those impossibly large eyes.

The difficulties so far have been far harder than I could have ever imagined. I never thought it would be so hard to recover from the birth. The pain was intolerable at times, and always intense. It was trying to be happy about having this lovely baby in my arms when I was cringing inside because of the hemorrhoids and bleeding.

Breastfeeding has been the bane of my existence, however. I can't seem to enjoy it just yet, but I can understand why women love doing it. Even though it's painful and seemingly neverending at times, it gives you a moment with your child that no one else can share. I sit quietly, holding his head and neck to my breast while he is nourished by milk I have produced. Really, it's pretty cool when you think about it.

But the grating pain can be horrifying. It literally takes my breath away when it's bad. But when the baby latches on properly and everything is working smoothly, it's a time I cherish. So at the same time I dread and look forward to it. I believe this qualifies as a paradox.

Month One

The last time I wrote "Month One" was when I was one month pregnant. This month, however, indicates the first thirty-some days of my son who was born not long ago. I can hardly believe he has hit this mini-milestone already. He has grown heavier, smiles more, almost giggles (but not quite)...he's becoming himself. I wanted to take credit for creating this life, but in reality, he's creating his own. I have very little to do with the character he is turning into.

Lately, I have been staring at him while he sleeps, sneaking peeks at him while he lays quietly on a pillow, smelling his freshly washed hair, stealing kisses from his soft cheeks. Babies are intoxicating. They make you forget the world around you, the troubles that surround you. They are the best cure-all for a bad day...when they're not screaming, that is.

When he screams and cries, I die a little inside. My heart aches in a way that is physically painful to me. I can't seem to hold back a few tears of insecurity. I feel incapable of caring for him, even for that short time of chaos. It throws me back into a sad state of being, one I have tried so hard to get over.

But after the crying, I realize the misinterpretation. I always assume it's because he hates me. It's not that at all, I rationalize to myself. It's a baby. Babies cry for no reason at all, sometimes. Burping, eating, pooping...sometimes nothing will sooth him. Live with that, mommy. You have to be ok with that. There is no choice in the matter.

I thought about this mini-milestone and what I should do to commemorate this occasion. Should I eat a cupcake? Blow out a candle? Instead, I wrote this letter to my one month old son...

Dear Darling Boy,

I love you more than life. You are my heart. I will never feel love for someone the way I feel love for you, sweet boy.

But when I think of your birth and your first month on this earth, I have to apologize for how sad I was. I should have celebrated more, appreciated you more. Instead, I cried a lot. I felt despair. I couldn't feel happy to have you. I felt as if I didn't deserve you, because you were perfect and you were amazing.

I'm different after one month of having you, though. I loved you from the first kick in my belly. I loved you from the moment I felt you push through me. I never loved you less, I always loved you more. But now that I've had you in my arms for a month, I know why I love you so much. You are a person who deserves the most love I can muster.

So I promise you, baby boy, that I will persevere through depression. I will be the best I can be. I will become the person you deserve to have as your mother.

I love you.

Your Mommy

The Best of Times, the Worst of Times

Aside from being tired every minute of the day, the baby has been doing quite well in most areas of life, including eating like a hoover vacuum cleaner. This kid can put it away like no newborn I've ever seen. It was so impressive, in fact, the nurse at the lactation center said we needed to feed him less. I guess gaining one pound in 5 days isn't in vogue anymore.

The best parts about being a parent of a newborn is the feeling of accomplishment when your baby burps, poops, pees, latches on properly...basically anything he does, you praise with that annoying baby voice that drives all non-parents insane. It's dumb parent pride, I guess. I love feeling like my husband and I have created something good.

It's also amazing to see my husband with the baby when they're cooing at each other like lovebirds. My favorite thing in the world right now is seeing him so enamored. He holds the baby in his arms and turns into a nurturing machine. The baby stares at him, they lock eyes, and you can feel the adoration. It's pure bliss.

Our son has been showing us up in the sleep department lately, taking in anywhere between 6 and 9 hours a night. He's also been keeping us entertained with his strong Pele kicks. Other things that impress us include his eye contact, as if he's doing the mind meld and trying to control our every move...it works like a charm, too.

The baby has been locking eyes since week one, albeit sometimes those eyes are crossed in an effort to focus. He seems very alert for a newborn, although I've heard these stories of parents with delusions of grandeur bragging about their baby like he belongs in mensa already. Apparently, I have turned into this type of parent already. I'm hopeless.

Breathing

It's 9:30 a.m. I'm sitting upstairs with the baby monitor by my side waiting to hear a peep, squeak, wail or all of the above. I woke up at 6:45 a.m. in anticipation of noise, and instead heard nothing but the occasional soft crackling of the monitor. The baby has been asleep since 11:45 p.m. last night.

The argument on the mommy internet sites rages on about when to wake the baby, or if you should wake the baby at all. My head is pounding with a consistent ache that has plagued me since yesterday. I say let the baby sleep until he wakes and let my head recover from a day of fussy behavior.

He was alert and cranky yesterday for hours. When my husband came home from work I immediately handed the parenting reigns over to him, pumped milk, and promptly lay down on the sofa and breathed steadily for five minutes. I thought I was going to explode.

But on a positive note, I haven't freaked out or hysterically cried in a few days. I don't want to jinx it, but I am starting to believe that the worst is over. Perhaps I've dodged the post-partum bullet. I'm hoping my hormones have settled into place and that I'm coming back to life again.

My feelings about the baby and being a mother have remained somewhat muted, if not detached at times. In one moment, I'm completely overwhelmed and unenthusiastic about this abrupt new life change. Then things change instantaneously and I'm in complete love with this little boy. I kiss his little fingers and toes with gusto. I eat his soft cheeks.

Breastfeeding goes along the same lines. I love touching his downy hair and slowly rubbing his cheeks with my fingers while he suckles. But then he'll chomp down and cause me real pain. It wakes me from a happy state of nurturing and violently shoves me into a creepy feeling of unsettled resentment. And although I do find some sense of accomplishment from seeing how much milk I can produce in one sitting, I equally dislike pumping with a machine. It feels like being milked like a cow.

But all in all I have more of a positive feeling about my new life. It's up and down, and never consistently good or bad. It's easier knowing I won't be returning to work soon. It's harder when I realize my husband will be returning full time October 1st.

Today he was required to go to a conference from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. It's the first full day away for him and the first full day alone with the baby for me. When he kissed me goodbye in the morning, I cried. I'm still afraid of being alone with my son. That's hard to admit, and not something I'm terribly proud of.

Now I feel like I'm just waiting for everything to normalize. My pain has subsided, the hemorrhoids have shrunk to a manageable size, my belly is slowly shrinking to a mass of jelly rolls that makes me think I won't be wearing a bikini anytime soon.

But I still wait for that feeling that everything is as it's supposed to be. That is still beyond my reach.

Exhaustion

Baby turned 3 weeks. Now it's official. I'm exhausted.

It's not because of anything tangible. In fact, we've been spoiled by all the generous and good natured friends delivering us food in exchange for a turn holding the baby. I'm actually surprised at how many people have never held a newborn before. They all come in, looking for a turn holding him. And when they do, they gingerly cup his head and balance him with two hands like he's a breakable sculpture...every one who has come by has done this. It's pretty amusing.

And it's not the baby keeping me up at night that is making me so tired. In fact, he's been a good baby, sleeping all night and waking in the morning light, just like clockwork since day one.

He's also been doing a number of other things that are unbearably cute, such as sucking his fingers and finding his thumb, smiling and making newborn noises...(which aren't really that much to describe but are still adorable.) He is the first person who makes me melt by yawning at everything I say to him. He sticks out his tongue and my heart dissolves.

In the morning he tends to wake up in a good mood, sit around on a pillow for 30 to 45 minutes, just staring at things. Then, he eats, naps for two hours or so, wakes up, eats again, and then makes more noises and smiles some more.

The witching hour comes around 8 or 9 p.m. when the sun sets. Then he turns into the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde baby.

Oh, the screams. He eats, he screams. He poops, we change him, he screams. We swaddle him, he screams. We rock him. Screams. It's neverending and in the first two weeks I thought I would lose my mind. Nothing seemed to soothe him, not even a finger in him mouth, which usually pacifies him for a good 20-30 minutes.

He finally passes out after a 3-4 hour marathon, sometimes less, sometimes more. Around midnight, he is so over-tired he simply can't keep up the drama. He is knocked out for hours after that. We've managed to get him to sleep at 11:30 p.m., but that was the earliest he's ever gone down. It's usually midnight or 12:30.

Admittedly, my husband is far better at soothing him at night. He has the right temperament for it, and doesn't get upset easily, unlike me and my raging hormones. They're still finding their balance, apparently. And although my mood swings have calmed down considerably, there is the occasional "burst into tears" moment that I can't seem to contain.

The only thing I can reason when it comes to being exhausted is that I'm emotionally wrecked and still healing from the birth. The baby can be tiring, on occasion, especially when I just can't figure out what he needs from me. I tend to get frustrated and throw my hands up in the air more than I care to admit, but it's getting better, slowly but surely.

Also, the pain is pretty uncomfortable. I'm still trying to breast-feed, which has been no picnic. I won't give up, but I will complain about it. It hurts. A lot. I'm cracked and bleeding a lot, which leads to bloody breast milk. When I pumped the other day, it was pink, not white. And when the baby spit up clots of blood the other week, I freaked out. Then, we called the advice nurse and she explained it was most likely MY blood, and I freaked out some more.

Breast-feeding is a chore right now, but I'm anticipating a change soon. Hopefully, what everyone tells me is true...it will be better by the 1st or 2nd month. I'm holding out with a clenched jaw until then.

The pelvic pain has subsided somewhat, and the hemorrhoids have calmed down to a manageable state. But I'm still popping prescription Motrin and praying for my body to return to a normal state eventually.

Being in pain on top of being depressed, and then capping it off with caring for a newborn is what pushes me over the edge on bad days. If I was tackling one of those three things, it would be far easier for me to remain positive. But these three things all at once make me feel...well, exhausted.

Little Voice

I saw my doctor the other day and she discussed medication for the postpartum depression. I felt relieved and disillusioned at the same time. The relief was because I now had an option, a choice. The disillusionment was because I swore I would never take medication while pregnant, and now I was posed with this dilemma...taking medication while breast feeding.

She also recommended a weekly therapy group for postpartum mothers, which I'm still thinking about. I do not do well in group therapy, as I am very self-conscious and tend to shrink away from speaking out loud. But the thought that it is there for me is a comfort nonetheless.

Either way, there's no definitive cure for what I have fallen upon. Although things have seemed to calm down somewhat since last week, I am still in constant discomfort/pain and working through a recovery that I couldn't have guessed would be this prolonged. It's only been two weeks, everyone says. I just want it to end so I can start feeling normal again. Perhaps then, I hope against hope, I will be a better mother to my baby.

The baby is sleeping in his bassinet next to the sofa while I watch television, trying to drown out the little voice inside me that keeps saying the things I'm afraid to say out loud. "You'll never be able to do this. You should give up now. Leave while you can. The baby and your husband will be better off without you there to burden them."

It's a horrible little voice, with a very loud message. I am simply not good enough to be a mother to this infant.

I ignore it as much as possible, and that's the best I can do for now. Ignore. I ignore the screaming when the baby is upset. I ignore the hatred I have for my own incompetence. I ignore the fact that I am exhausted for no apparent reason other than a debilitating depression. I ignore the fact that I resent my own child when he won't stop crying.

I remember being in my third trimester, pregnant belly out to *here* and feeling excited, joyful, amazed by the ability to create life within me. I was happy.

Now, two weeks and some days later, all I can imagine is being trapped with this responsibility for the rest of my life, knowing in my heart I will never be as good as this child deserves. It breaks me in two and shoves me aside like nothing.

So all I can do at this point is wait for the bonding that everyone says will happen soon enough. I wait for the hormones to pass through me, leaving me a clear path away from this sadness. I hope for a better future with this baby. I want to appreciate him, to love the days we have together while he is smaller than I ever imagined he would be when I was dreaming of him in my pregnant state.

Pass Baby Blues...Go Directly to Post-Partum Depression

As I sit here typing, husband is trying to calm a screaming baby. I feel as if I have failed yet another night, unable to soothe my own son into sleep.

Seeing that I can't even soothe myself, I shouldn't be surprised. I have been suffering the after-effects of pregnancy, and my hormones have been raging like a waterfall of uncontrolled emotions.

It's been a week and a half and I've been in constant pain and discomfort from the delivery of our son. Although we delivered only a short while ago, it seems like months have passed. My moods have been swinging, my crying non-stop. I can't seem to get a grip on the reality of the situation for more than a few seconds at a time. I feel like I'm suffering from dementia, totally in a daze and making no sense. In an occasional lucid moment, I will talk to my husband about my depression, about my history with it, and how worried I am about my inability to cope.

My history with depression goes back over two decades. I am not unfamiliar to meds, psychologists, and panic. Toward the end of my pregnancy, all I could think about was the dreaded post-partum depression that was talked about on every pregnancy chat board. I knew I was susceptible to it, and probably more than most women. It scared me more than the impending labor and delivery.

And now that the baby has arrived, I am suffering inside, fearing the worst things possible and unable to get out from underneath the avalanche of paranoia.

I am a horrible mother. My baby hates me. I will do something terribly wrong and something bad will happen to the baby. I hate myself. The baby and my husband would be better off without me. I am not cut out for this. I want out. I can't handle a baby. When my husband returns to work full time I will freak out.

The thoughts keep coming. It's nonstop and relentless. I'm sleep deprived as well, which doesn't help.

The baby has become very fussy at night. He is the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde baby. During the day he is a prince. He wakes up, eats, looks around, doesn't make a sound except when he's changed.

But as soon as night arrives, he shifts gears and starts screaming. There is a look of terror on his face at times that makes my heart stop. I can't help but wonder if he knows I am a terrible mother.

He's awake and screaming from anywhere between 9 p.m. and 1 a.m. and it has quickly become unbearable. The awake part is fine. The screaming part is killing my last nerve. I pick him up and he screams. I put him down, he screams. I swaddle him, he fights me like he's fighting death. I can't soothe him. I can't make him calm. Nothing works.

I haven't yet come to terms with the idea that we may have a colicky baby, or a fussy baby, or even a high-needs baby on our hands. It makes me cringe thinking this may be our fate for the next three months, as all the baby books have warned.

Husband has had better luck and has become nearly impervious to his crying. But he can't keep this up forever, and he will be going back to work full time soon. This is what I am dreading...I will have to take over the night shift as well as the day shift. It will be pure Hell with no sleep at all.

In the meantime, I have become desperate for help and have contacted my doctors asking for them to intervene in some way with either medication or advice. I've emailed some night doulas in the hopes we might be able to afford extra help with the baby. I don't know what else to do, frankly. In my current state of disrepair, I have no consistency in my logic or moods. Everything is on an hour to hour basis.

I know this spiral all too well, and I'm sad for my baby, for my husband as well as for myself. It's not a good path to be going down.

Breast Feeding

We stayed in the hospital for five days and then I was released on August 31st to fend for myself. The hospital was a comfortable place for me, and I actually dreaded leaving. The nurses, lactation specialist, doctors, pediatricians, OBGYNs...they were all available to me at the push of a button. At home, however, there was no button. It was just me, my husband and the baby.

The first day back, we were doing well. Baby slept through the night, probably exhausted by the long journey he had made into the world. I was in quite a bit of pain, and popping the prescription motrin and stool softeners like candy.

The second day back was like a pitcher of ice water thrown into my face. The baby did well during the day, but as soon as it became late...around midnight...he started screaming. And he simply would not stop. Husband tried to let me sleep and heal, since I was still suffering from the after-effects of pushing a human out of my uterus. But around 2 a.m., he came down to wake me.

He apologized, but said I would have to breast feed the baby.

Breast feeding had become this sort of albatross on my back. My milk had not come in as of day six. The nurses and doctors and lactation specialist at the hospital had all said not to worry...that the colostrum would be plenty for him to eat until my milk came in. But apparently, after five days, the baby was tired of the colostrum and was ready for a real meal.

I kept saying to the nurses and doctors, "He seems to be really hungry."

They kept reiterating the importance of NOT using formula. Breast is best.

"Not even to supplement? I want to breast feed, but I have no milk. Can't I just supplement with formula until it does come in?"

The answer was always, "Don't worry about it. He isn't starving."

Well, on the second day home, we were down to our last nerve trying to calm this baby down. I cried when my husband asked me to breast feed him without my milk in yet. It was extremely painful to breast feed in the hospital. My nipples were sore and bleeding. In fact, the baby had such a good sucking technique, he had literally sucked skin out of the inside of my nipple, leaving a raw, bloody piece of skin hanging.

I said to the husband, "This is ridiculous. We HAVE to discuss formula! I can't breast feed him like this!!" I was in tears, husband was in tears. He finally decided to call the advice nurse while I tried to suckle the baby on my raw nipples.

The advice nurse said, "Sure, supplement two ounces of formula. There's no harm in that."

When my husband told me how uncontroversial the conversation had been, I wanted to go back to the hospital and slap everyone. How dare they not give me the option to formula supplement my baby? They refused to even discuss it.

My baby was hungry. That's the bottom line. I needed to feed him. Formula is not the devil.

Birth Story...Part Three

The residents kept saying PUSSSSHHH...

I kept PUSHHIINGGG...nothing.

The residents insisted that I PUSSSHHHHH...

So I would PUSHHHH, and nothing.

Waiting for the contractions to come was the worst part, by far. The pain of the contractions was so intense and immediate, I could barely consider the thought of pushing once they started that uphill climb to the peak.

Yet the nurses and residents kept insisting I push push push whenever I was at the height of the pain. It was quickly becoming obvious that I simply could NOT PUSH ANY MORE.

I felt as if I had been pushing for an hour, and even said so. "It's been an hour!!"

The consensus in the room was, no, it hasn't. You have been pushing for 15 minutes, maybe 20. You've been arguing for 30.

"I need help!!" I cried, oblivious to everyone around me, talking to no one in particular. "The epidural is NOT WORKING!!"

"The epidural isn't going to help during this part of labor." The nurse said, matter-of-factly. "You're going to have to push through the pain."

Ok, push through the pain. It'll be over soon. Everyone keeps saying so. "It'll be over in another push or two! You're an amazing pusher!"

So I kept pushing. Nothing. I finally got the nerve up and looked in the mirror they placed between my legs. I saw a little patch of unfamiliar hair coming out of a small opening. Every time I pushed, it would come out a little more, making the opening a little bigger...and then the contraction would end and it would slip back inside. Pushing was not working as well as everyone was leading me to believe.

I was getting pissed. The epidural was completely done. I was completely done. My pushing was ineffective, at best. The residents were getting frustrated. I was becoming desperate for some relief from the sharp, stabbing pain.

"PLEASE. I CAN NOT PUSH. MY BODY IS SHUTTING DOWN!!" I yelled. I looked at my husband, who was beaming and excited beyond belief. His eyes were shining with impending tears of joy. I felt as if I had let him down in some way by not popping this baby out sooner.

The resident looked up from between my legs and said in an annoyed voice, "Well, then you'll have to have a C-Section. Do you want that? A C-Section?" Her tone denoted a smart-assery that made things that much worse.

"YES. GIVE ME A C-SECTION." I hollered, dead serious. I wanted this DONE. I was over pushing. I was convinced everyone was lying to me. It was NOT just one more push, ever. In fact, if I heard "JUST ONE MORE PUSH!!" cheered to me one more time, I was going to rip out the IV, hop off the table and walk to the operating table on my own.

The resident looked shocked that her ploy had backfired. Little did she know that I was impervious to reverse psychology. I really did want a C-Section, if, in fact, that was what she was offering me.

"Well, it will be a different kind of pain!" She back-peddled as best she could, "You'll be recovering for months after a C-Section! You really don't want that, do you?"

"YES I DO." I repeated myself emphatically. And at that moment, I really did. Not my proudest moment, but YES I REALLY DID.

The nurses and residents conferred. The new anesthesiologist came in and gave me another shot into my catheter, hopefully to ease up on the pain so I could try pushing again, which I did...to no avail. Although the pain had lessened slightly, it came back with a vengeance twenty or so minutes later.

A second, blond resident came in and calmly spoke about another option. "We can do one thing before we try a C-Section. We can suction the baby out. Do you want to try that?"

I looked at my husband and weakly asked him what he thought. He said, "Whatever you want to do is fine with me." Although I knew this wasn't true...he would never have wanted me to go through with a C-Section.

The suction was attached, and the resident said, "You will have to push 200 times harder than you did before. Can you do it?"

I did. Two pushes later, he was out. He was quiet. They whisked him away and suctioned him from head to toe, sticking tubes down his throat, getting all the merconium out. Husband was thrilled and crying, checking on him, and then coming over to report to me what he was seeing.

Sadly, I don't remember most of what happened next. What I do remember is the incredible pain of having my uterus hand-scraped by the residents who delivered the baby. Apparently, they had pulled on the umbilical cord and it had promptly fallen off, causing them to act quickly to remove the placenta. If any part of the placenta was left inside, I was in danger of hemorrhaging.

If labor was painful, this was excruciating Hell on Earth. And it seemed to go on forever. Husband heard my screaming and came to my side, held my hand, and cried. He said later that he was frightened. He had never seen me in that much pain before.

The baby was almost done. Husband clipped the cord. They wrapped baby up in a blanket, put a hospital hat on him, and handed him to his dad.

All I remember then is being in the room with a swaddled baby. The rest, sadly, is a blur. I don't even remember holding him for the first time.