Speak Mom

Hoarders!: Motherhood Edition.

I confess!

I am a formula hoarder. Confused? You should be. I breastfeed my child. “So,” you ask, “why are you hoarding formula?” 

And THAT is quite a good question. I honestly do not have a good reason. In fact, my reason is completely irrational and I am almost afraid of typing it out for fear of severe judgement (be easy on me… please?!). 

I hoard formula just in case of extreme emergency. I’m talking nuclear, catastrophic, lost-in-the-woods-with-no-gas-left-in-the-car emergencies. I keep cans and bottles of formula in E’s room, in the car, in the diaper bag, at my parents’ house, etc.

I’m afraid of something crazy happening or my body possibly malfunctioning to the point where one day, I’ll wake up and the “factory” will be closed. I don’t know?! And this is what my fear is; that I just. don’t. know. Thus, the formula hoarding. 

I still have formula from the hospital in those little, eensy-weensy bottles that hold only two ounces of formula. How ridiculous is that!?! But I’m pretty sure I have three or four of them in my diaper bag and possibly ten or so in E’s dresser drawers. 

So, there. Some people hoard cats. I hoard formula. If someone decides to call one of those shows on me, at least there’s a bright side: free home makeover and free therapy! 

Oh shit. Did I really just say that? I think I just passed “crazyville” and am headed straight for the looney bin… wait, is there free food there? 

Of Mice and (Wo)Men.

I would like to take this opportunity to give some new moms-to-be a little “heads up”. I notice a lot of “tumblees” discussing birth plans and birth experiences on their blogs. I, too, had a birth plan - and you know what they say about “The best laid plans”…

My birth plan went a little something like this: 1) go into labor on or before due date 2) get driven to hospital 3) receive no medication 4) push baby out through my lady parts without an epidural 5) breastfeed as soon as humanly possible.

My daughter’s plan went like this: 1) don’t come out on or before due date. wait to be induced almost two weeks later 2) have labor induced with pitocin 3) have pitocin cause Mommy great pain which necessitates epidural 4) have epidural cause even worse pain and not work 5) have Mommy’s blood pressure drop, Baby’s heart rate drop, making a C-Section necessary 6) have Mommy not get to breastfeed until an hour after delivery 7) don’t latch onto breast for 3 weeks after giving birth.

So there you have it. Nothing went according to plan. Actually, wait. SOMETHING went according to plan… I delivered a beautiful baby girl! As pissed, upset, distraught and shaken I was that nothing (and I mean NOTHING) went the way I had pictured it, I had to remind myself that the point of giving birth was to get the baby out the safest way possible. I struggled so much with the idea that “giving birth” meant pushing my baby out and not cutting my baby out. I didn’t cry during my most horrible of contractions, but I certainly started the waterworks when the doctor told me I needed to have a C-Section. I was beyond upset. I felt defeated and like so much less of a woman and a mother. I was more scared than I had ever been in my life.

After I laid eyes on her and felt the most amazing connection - the strongest possible connection - I realized that regardless of the plans I had made and all of the things that didn’t go according to them, I was looking at my child. I was a mother whether I pushed, pulled, cut, jiggled, wiggled or bounced her out.

So, to all of you moms-to-be who may be reading this (if I should be so lucky) my advice to you would be to have a plan for a basic foundation (always a good idea for every situation), but don’t be let down if it doesn’t work out the way you want it to. Whatever or Whomever you believe in as a higher power has that plan for you for reasons we may never know. It’s ok to request an epidural if you are writhing in pain but reallydidn’t want one. It’s ok to end up having a C-Section when you really wanted to experience vaginal delivery. It’s ok to end up not breastfeeding if you have such a difficult time that it is not enjoyable for you or your child.

It’s ok to let go and give in to the plans that were meant for you and not made by you.

You Can Call Me “The Dairy Queen”.

 We’re just approaching our daughter’s 6 months (1/2 Birthday as I like to call it) and I can’t believe I’ve held off from any kind of food this entire time. I have sustained my daughter on breast milk alone for almost an entire 6 months. Something about that is so amazing. Other things about that are just plain nuts.

I remember getting extremely excited when my milk finally came in. I pumped and pumped and pumped until finally, FINALLY there it was! -MILK. No more colostrum, just MILK. I had quite a difficult time getting E to latch while in the hospital, but I figured with the colostrum gone and the milk in, we would get home and have smooth sailing from there. Boy, was I wrong.

We got home for the hospital and nothing had changed for about three or four weeks. She still wasn’t latching and I was insanely sick of pumping. I had milk leaking out in all directions all day long and my middle-of-the-night pumping sessions were driving me up a wall. No matter what I did, she would scream when I tried to get her to latch and I was almost ready to give up. Almost.

Around four weeks of age, little Miss Diva decided she was ready to latch. SUCCESS! And then… the mastitis. I felt like God was playing some kind of cruel joke on me. I just get my daughter to latch and I develop mastitis!?!? Not only was I was leaking milk everywhere, I had a fever, the shakes and severe pain to boot!

We worked our way through that problem and finally established some kind of rhythm. I was finally breastfeeding successful - not without leaking milk through every bra, shirt, tank top - onto every bed sheet, chair, pillow, rug - in the house. My husband and I joked that if forensics were to come in and examine our room with a black light, they’d find milk stains in all sorts of places.

As I mentioned, we are now going on 6 months of no food - just milk - and I have to say, all of the aggravation, disappointments, stained clothing items, etc. was all worth it. I fully intend on nursing my daughter until she is at least a year, but I am amazed that for 6 whole months, my daughter was able to survive from me and me alone. It is such an incredible accomplishment.

I realize that her feedings won’t slow down for a little while yet and I will still be on demand to nurse her or provide her with pumped milk. So until things slow down you can just call me my most favorite nursing nickname, “The Dairy Queen”.