Since I have spent the majority of my life for the past 9 months breastfeeding/pumping, I kinda think it deserves a post. So yes, I'm going to chat about my boobies again. (This is the cue to anyone who doesn't want to listen to such things to make a quick exit... ok, don't say I didn't warn you.)

I must say that even now after 9 months of this, if I stop and think about it, it is still kinda gross and creepy. I mean, another human is drinking something that my body makes... ICK. Yes yes yes... it is a beautiful, natural, bonding experience between mother and baby, and it is the "best thing" for them blah blah blah... I get that side of it too. But really, it is kinda gross when you think about it. So I just try not to focus on that little detail.

Any who, back to the beginning. When I first found out I was pregnant and well I guess even long before that, I knew I wanted to "try" breastfeeding. I was very unsure about how I really felt about it (um, duh... previous statement) I knew I wanted to try because it would be "best" for the little peanut that I was cooking. There were so many questions in the beginning... "Would he even latch on?" "Am I going to make enough milk" "How do I know if he is eating enough?" "Am I going to be able to handle the pain that people keep telling me I will have to go through?" "what about when we leave the house? Nurse in public...? "there is no way in hell that I'll ever do that!" With so many questions, I needed answers. So I started reading and researching as much as I could. For anyone who is expecting and thinking about breastfeeding I must say that educating yourself is the best way to give you and your baby the best start at your new breastfeeding relationship.

I started out saying that I was going to try to make it to 8 weeks because I didn't want to deal with the awkwardness that is pumping at work. As I got further along in my pregnancy and had learned a lot more about it I decided that maybe I could make it to 6 months. That would be enough time to get us through the flu season without too many trips to the Dr.

As I entered the delivery room I was more nervous about breastfeeding than I was about getting the 10lb child out through the lady parts. Ya, I know. Makes no sense. I had read the books, blogs, web sites, gone to the classes but still, "what if my body doesn't work and the milk doesn't come?" "what if my baby hates me and wont eat?"

After Parker was born and had been taken away to be cleaned up, it was discovered that he had very low blood sugar. (common with bigger babies) In order to get his blood sugar back up he was given 1oz of formula through a syringe. I was heartbroken. I hadn't even had the chance to try nursing but there wasn't any choice. It was the easiest thing to do to get his blood sugar back up.

Now most of the time,(according to the lactation consultant that taught my breastfeeding class) a baby can go the first 24hrs of life without really eating anything and there is no cause for alarm. BUT, since Parker was having blood sugar issues he needed to eat to get things stabilized, that general rule didn't apply. To make matters worse, my fears had become reality... HE. WOULDN'T. LATCH. So enter in the pump on wheels. aka: demon sucker.

To make sure my body was getting the right signals to produce milk, the nurses had me pumping every two hours and they were "cupping" him any milk that I got. Now every woman who had ever pumped told me "your going to feel like a cow" and oh boy they were right. I hadn't even gotten to nurse yet and here I am hooked up to the demon sucker staring at the empty bottles praying for my body to give me something to feed my child.

After a long emotionally and physically draining 24 hrs in the hospital I was assigned a wonderful nurse who took some time to work with me and Parker teaching us both what to do. Even with the amount of reading and class hours that I had done, there is nothin' like on-the-job training.

That first time he latched... all I could do was cry. Out of relief, joy, amazement and a bit of pain. It was completely over whelming in a wonderful way. It will be a feeling that I will never forget.

Once we were sent home it was a learn as you go thing. What works for some may not work for others. I had expected the absolute worst in regards to pain so that might be why I feel it could have been a whole lot worse. I just kept telling myself what my sister had said, "once you get through the first week, it's all down hill from there" and it was completely true. After day 3 and 4, it gets a little better each day.

If you get nothing else in preparation to breastfeed you must have lanolin, (aka: boobie cream) and no the hospital is NOT going to give you enough. It is worth its weight in gold. Their slogan really should be "WARNING: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO BREASTFEED WITH OUT IT" I am quite sure I would have had quit or had irreversible damage had I not had it.

Once we got through the first week, everything was going quite well. By the time I had to go back to work I had decided I was going to pump. I had a little area in the 'supply room' where I would bring my desk chair in with me and lock the doors. Get set up and eat my lunch. It worked out quit well actually. I was a little nervous about pumping in there before I went back, but it turned out to work great. It was the only place in the building that I could lock the door that wasn't a bathroom. I lived on lean pockets and yogurt for 7 months and I'm quite sure I'm okay with never eating another one for as long as I live.

I had planned to breastfeed until Parker's 1st birthday. My body on the other hand had a different agenda. My milk supply tanked when Parker was about 6 months old. I swear I tried EVERYTHING to get it back up, and I mean everything that was suggested.

*Extra pumping. And can I just say that I DESPISE pumping. I hate it with every fiber of my being. It is annoyingly time consuming. It makes you worry about how much milk your making even though it isn't an accurate measurement because your infant is far more efficient. There are a million little parts that need to be cleaned 8 freaking times a day! ::rant over::

*Oatmeal. It got to the point where I was having to force myself to eat it and was struggling to even keep it down.

*Extra calories. Ya, that is really helpful when trying to drop the baby weight.

*Fenugreek. Now there's an herb with some "fantastic" side effects. Aside from increasing your milk supply, it makes your pee, sweat and CHILD smell like maple syrup. Not harmful but still gross. Even with taking 12-16 pills a day, it had very little effect on my supply.

*Extra Water. I was drinking water like a camel preparing for a 500 mile trip across the desert. And in turn peeing my syrup smelling pee like I was pregnant again. My frequent bathroom trips did not go unnoticed by my co-workers, so I got quite a few raised eyebrows. ::NO I'm not pregnant!::

After none of this worked, and struggling emotionally for weeks I admitted defeat. I finally broke down and gave Parker a formula bottle. His reaction... Nothing. Didn't even faze him. No strange faces, no "what the eff is this Mom?" He happily sucked it down and wanted some more. I was stunned and a little heartbroken that he didn't seem to care.

One wonderful side effect... Parker started sleeping through the night again because he was getting enough calories during the day. ::sigh of relief:: This was the baby that was sleeping through the night by 2 weeks old up until about 5 1/2 months when he started waking up 2-3 times a night. I feel like a total failure for not figuring it out sooner. Live and learn, Right?

After about a month now of supplementing with formula we are down to just morning and before bed nursing sessions. I know it is coming to an end soon and it just makes me sad. I really do love breastfeeding. I cherish that closeness that we have and I'll miss this part of his life once it is over. It was the best choice for us and it has been a very long journey but I will be grateful I made this choice for the rest of my life.

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Biting. (I'll say for any family or friends that don't want to hear about my boobs... "thanks for stopping by but you may want to make a quick exit")

When I was pregnant with P, I wanted to breastfeed. I was absolutely determined to do it and I wasn't going to give up come hell or high water. I was very lucky though and had a very easy time with it. I'm not sure if it is because I was expecting it to be unbearably painful and difficult that when it wasn't those things, it seemed easy... or if I really did have an easy time. Either way, we have gotten along for 8 months now with very few issues.

Once P was born, I decided that I wanted to breastfeed to his 1st birthday. Now that we have come so far and we are getting so close to that goal, I just feel like a failure for even considering weaning. But he keeps BITING ME! I want my nipples when this is all said and done. The girls are only on loan, and I didn't collect a security deposit. The hubby would be quite upset if I lost one.

How do you deal with this? I want to continue breastfeeding, I have made it this far and I want to reach my goal. How do I stop him from biting so it can still be a relaxing and comforting experience for both of us?

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I haven't blogged in a very, very, VERY long time... But I don't think anyone reads it so I don't think anyone missed me. Why haven't I gotten around to sharing my life with the world? Well... I've been trying to find a balance in life between being a mom, a wife, working, the housekeeper, weight loss, finding a house and all of the other million things that come up everyday that need my attention. So those are my excuses... want to know the real reason... I'm effing lazy. All of that takes a lot out of me and I just didn't bother to make the time. Nice huh? Well at least I'm honest.

Mommy. I love it! I couldn't be happier. Mr. Parker is doing wonderfully. He is 8 months old now!! I, like every other parent in the world asks everyday "How do I stop you from growing up so fast?!" He is crawling, has two teeth and thinks I'm the funniest person in the entire world. (I know that in the very near future he is going to realize that I'm far more of an embarrassment than a comic. I still have high hopes that he'll let me walk him to the bus stop as long as I promise not to kiss him. or wear my pj's.)

Me and the Hubby. I don't think I have ever been more in love with him. He is such a good person to everyone in his life. He loves me and P to the end of the world. He works too hard and plays too little to make sure that we are taken care of. "I love you!"

Work. Work is good. The mommy guilt is getting better. (did you hear that ladies... IT GETS BETTER!) I love my time at home and thank the universe that it has worked out so I only have to work part-time. But now, I do look forward to going to work. I enjoy what I do and who I work with.

Housekeeper. Um... Ya... It has gotten better, I will say that. I try not to get overwhelmed as much or care if there are dirty dishes in the sink when we go to bed. I have found that if I set a day for me to "detail" the house and just work on the maintenance stuff every other day... it's a working progress. Lets go with that.

Weight loss. I'm down 25lbs. ("woo hoo!!") The "lightest" I've been in 4 years. I say lightest, 'cause smallest doesn't apply. Growing a human has forever changed my body and I'm annoyingly jealous of those freaks of nature that show ABSOFREAKINGLUTLY NO EVIDENCE of it. This will forever be a journey of mine and I know that. I have made strides in the right direction though.

Buying a house... Yes, we are buying a house. The Hubby and I are currently renters and want more than anything to NOT be. We have an offer in on a short sale property and are just waiting for Bank Of America to... get off their effing bums and look at our paperwork... oops, I mean, get back to us. ::FINGERS CROSSED::

Finding a balance is something I know everyone strives toward and something I know that I'll be working on for the. rest. of. my. life. ::sigh::

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I can't believe how much I have changed in the past 4 months. Getting to know myself in this whole new role as a mother isn't something that anyone ever discussed. Maybe I'm alone in this but people always say "a baby changes your life." Duh. But no one tells you that you become a totally different person. It has been a big part of the whole postpartum recovery/discovery process that NO ONE tells you about. (More on that in another post)I have now been back to work (part time) since the first week of December after having 8 glorious weeks home with my little one. Before having a child I always said "I could never be a stay at home mom. I would go crazy. I NEED to work." Um... this new me... gets to eat her words again.

I could very easily stay at home with Parker, and love every minute of it. I threw such a fit and was a nervous wreck before going back to work. I wanted to pack up and runaway to avoid the inevitable. I couldn't imagine missing anything in his life, and just the thought of it broke my heart. Despite my tantrums and avoidance I packed us both up that morning and headed to daycare. When I had to walk out that door, leaving him for the first time, it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Mommy guilt started screaming immediately "Your abandoning your child! Your a terrible mother! He is going to hate you for leaving him! He wont understand why your not there to comfort him!" I even told my boss that had he been crying instead of sleeping I probably would have never made it to work that day.

The thing is... I love my job. I enjoy what I do and who I work with. And once I'm at The Office, I'm fine. But then the mommy guilt sets in again. It will all of a sudden hit me like a ton of bricks "Oh my God I haven't thought about Parker in like 3 hours! I'm such a bad mom! How could I stop thinking about my child for one minute? They are going to take away my parenting license!" But the truth is, if I wasn't able to push my wondering and worries out of my head, I wouldn't be able to do my job. I would eff up all day long. And lets be honest, that is not very conducive for keeping a job. So I live with the mommy guilt of not letting Parker be the center of my world all of the time because that isn't good either. Not for me, The Hubby or our wallets because of the expensive therapy that we would have to put Parker into for many, many years to reverse the damage I would have caused.

I wish I could say that it has gotten easier. Even just a little. Nope. It still sucks, every time. And the evil bee-a-tch that goes by the name of Mommy Guilt screams in my head the whole drive there.

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I've been such a bad blogger. I haven't posted in weeks. ::scolding myself:: My excuse? (and yes it is an excuse, which I hate because it really comes down to the fact that I've been lazy) Mr. Parker has been sick. FOR A MONTH. A month of dripping snot, pouring drool, continuous coughing, and don't forget my favorite... sneezing. Right. into. my. face. And before you call social services and have my mothering license taken away for not bringing my poor child to see some kind of medical professional... We have been there. Three times. Yes, count them three.

The first time we where there it was the Monday before Christmas. He had been sick, coughing and sneezing since the previous Friday. As a first time mom, when my little 2 1/2 month old sounds like he can't breath... I freak out. So I stayed home from work and off to the Dr. we go. Since we couldn't get in to see Dr. C Parker's regular pedi do to the lack of openings and my lack of ability to be patience and wait until Tuesday, we saw Dr. W. The one who cut off Parker's penis. (Now that I think about it, kinda cruel... No?) So Dr. W says that is lungs are clear and that it is just a cold...

Isn't it always just a cold? Now granted that is SOOO much better than being told that there is something wrong with my lil' boy, but I can't do ANYTHING to fix him. Ugh. So completely and totally frustrating.

So a couple of weeks go by and the cold is just lingering. No matter what I do. And trust me, we tried absolutely everything.

-elevating the mattress (he just ends up in a ball at the bottom)
-sleeping in the bouncy seat (he would wake up and scream every time we tried to put him in there for the night)
-humidifier
-baby vics (didn't really seem to do much but I love the smell of the baby vics compared to the adult crap)
-warm baths
-running the shower on hot and sitting there breathing in the warm steam
-plenty of use of my favorite tool for a baby... the Booger Sucker.
-saline spray (oh, and by the way. spraying crap up your child's nose apparently makes you the devil. Just an FYI)

So after three weeks of this crap, Parker gets worse. And because of my extensive medical background (um, none. unless you can count my many many hours devoted to Grey's Anatomy.) I'm absolutely positive that it is in his lungs now. This time we get to see the wonderful Dr. C, (who did not cut of Parker's penis so is much more liked by him I'm sure) The diagnosis... back to back colds... his lungs sound great. ::Grrr:: off to continue with all the home remedies that are not doing an effing thing.

Anther weeks goes by. And if it is at all possible, he sounds worse. When he is coughing, he is either coughing so hard he can't catch his breath, or he is puking/spitting up. Neither of these are good. So with risking be called neurotic new mommy, we pack up and go see Dr. W again. At this point I think she is just humoring me.

Dr.: Has he really been sick for a FULL month?

Lacey: YES! A full month. Why do you think we are back for a THIRD time?

Dr.: Well, we will give him a round of antibiotics. If this is bacterial, he will get better in a few
days. If it is viral... he is just going to have to keep fighting it.

Lacey: Duh.

Just to make it clear, we (the Hubby and I) really didn't want to put Parker on meds. I do understand that he is building an immune system and this is how it works. He must get sick so he can fight the crap later. But when the kid is only 3 1/2 moths old and he has been sick for a 1/3 of his life... I feel like a horrible mother because I can't fix him... I have a sneaking suspicion that I will feel like that a lot of the time as Parker grows. Joy.

Just for the record. We are day three of meds and his cough is significantly better. ::smiles to self::

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I hate "those" mornings.

I was woken up by my boobs this morning. Or rather 1 boob. There was surging pain with the smallest of movements. Very confused as to why it was this bad, as it NEVER had been this painful before. I had to wake the Hubby to change Parkers diaper for fear of exploding if I moved too much. So I get Parker situated still wondering why I was so rock hard and wanting to cry.

Then it hits me...

Having last nursed on that side about 8pm last night, and having forgotten to pump before bed, it had been almost 10 hours! Ouch.


Once Parker had finished I laid him on our bed to go and gather his (as I fondly call it) booger sucker. He has been one congested little man for the past week. While I'm stumbling along in the dark it attempts to locate the said booger sucker I hear P go into a coughing fit. As I rush back to try and sit him up-right I find that he has spit up. (rather he coughed so hard he puke all over the sheets.) Wonderful. I guess I'll be starting my day early today.

After I put Parker back down I head out of the bedroom to 'fix' the other side of me only to find that I failed to was any of my pump parts last night. ::Sigh::

Although I don't consider this to be a horrible morning because I have had so much worse in the past. I just hate it when it is one annoyance after another.

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A consistent routine. Something that to a new mom seems as elusive and unattainable as Sasquatch or Nessie the Loch Ness Monster.

I'm writing this with the fear that just by saying it, Parker is going to freak out and we will never reach this blissfully predicable state again. As it has been almost 6 weeks of this wonderful consistency and I'm really hoping it is going to stick for now. (I have been trying to write this post for a few weeks now, but I have been too afraid to publish it.)

When we came home from the hospital "people" told me to just give it time and Parker would fall into his 'own routine'. I couldn't decipher a routine out of what we where doing everyday. I never new what to expect. I'm a creature of habit. I like consistency and knowing what is going to come next. When I shower, I will do everything in the exact same order. Every time. When I clean, or drive to work, it is always in the same order. Call me OCD, crazy or whatever you would like, but the little stuff like that brings me peace.

I decided that my kid didn't know what the hell he wanted or when he wanted it. 6 weeks after coming home and we were still staying up 'till 12-1am. I never new when he was going to sleep or eat. There was no consistency. I only knew that I was going to wake up, keep the child alive and then go back to bed. When or how it was all going to happen neither of us knew. I think he was feeling as lost as I was. So we tossed that idea cause it was obvious that Parker needed a little direction.

Now it has been almost 6 blissful weeks of bath time at 8:00, boob and then bed by 10:00. Parker will then sleep until about 7:00 on days I work because I'm forced to wake him. There really is nothing I hate more than having to wake him when all I want to do myself is sleep. I just feel so bad. When we are home he wakes up on his own, typically around 8:00 - 8:30, gets a new diaper, eats, and then back to sleep for about 2 1/2 to 3hrs. What can I say, the kid loves his sleep. After a couple of cat naps, lunch, dinner, snacks, playtime and another 2-3 hr afternoon nap, it is time to start it all over again.

...Now if we could only move bedtime to 8:00...alone time with the Hubby would be wonderful...

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So the Hubby is in the middle of changing Parker's diaper when he and I start to discuss the necessity of the all important butt cream. (It has been explained to me by the Hubby that he is incapable of multi-tasking.) So while having this very important conversation over the said butt cream, Hubby has Parker's legs in the air but has ceased in the middle of the diaper changing process when all of a sudden Parker starts flailing about and crying.

We of course immediately look to see what the problem is...

he is peeing in his own eye...

We being the good parents that we are, bust out laughing uncontrollably while trying to catch the stream.

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I have been wanting to write this list for a while. I know that this isn't all and will be a lot more to come but here is the start of a list of things I said "I'll never do that when I'm a Mom"

I'll take some chocolate and whip cream on that statement as I eat my words.

'I'll never...'


Breastfeed in public...

Um... ya, that went right out the window! I figure that people would rather me feed my kid than listen to him scream.

To clarify: I don't just whip it out while standing in line or anything like that. I have a nursing cover to hide the girls, and I do try to go to someplace that is appropriate. ie: nursing area, dressing room, and I have more times than I can count nursed in the car. (car stopped, I'm not dumb)

I am guilty for breastfeeding at restaurants tho. I used to waitress and it annoyed me when women would breastfeed while eating. I used to wonder why can't you just feed the kid before you get here? Ya, I'm an ass.



Co-Sleep with my baby...

Sister: "You should register for a co-sleeper for your bed. It is safer for the baby. You'll want one once the baby is here."
Lacey: ::dumb, blank stare:: "Why? I don't want to sleep with my baby. I'll never use it."

Ugh...

Although this is/was not an every night thing, it happened way more than I ever thought it would. During the first few weeks we had a hard time getting Parker down to sleep at night and I would just give in knowing that i would be able to sleep 6hrs+ if I pulled him into bed with me. The thought of that much sleep for a sleep deprived momma is very alluring.

He is now a champ about sleeping in his own bed, (thank God) but we still do snuggle on the couch and nap often.


Turn on the musical part...
of the toy, bouncy seat, mobile, pack-n-play and number of other items.

::as I type the tune of some kids overly happy song plays::

I really should buy stock in batteries.

I don't even hear the crap that is playing out of those things anymore. But hey, the kid loves it.


Take my newborn out of the house before they are 2 weeks old...

Made it to day 5. I thought I was going to lose it.

It was a quick trip to Target to get some stuff that we didn't know we needed. Very helpful with my sanity tho.



be induced... The baby will come when he is ready.

Um... even had I not had high blood pressure and preeclampsia I would have begged for it to be over. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED being pregnant. But at the end, I was GINORMOUS, couldn't breath, sit, sleep, stand or walk without pain.

Parker was 10.3 at delivery so it's not as if he wasn't ready. I had done my time and that kid needed to be delivered for both our sakes. But as everyone who knows me knows, I was completely against it.

"I refuse to be induced!"

Where is my spoon?

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