I Hate Breastfeeding

Seriously, I do.

Before Wiley was born I was determined to exclusively breastfeed. I had all these images in my head of sweet mother-son time, a great way for us to bond, not to mention all the health benefits. I knew that it can be rough starting out but I told myself just to try to make it through the first two weeks and that's generally when people say it gets better.

By the end of two weeks I still hated breastfeeding, every week I continue to do it I'm still amazed I haven't given up.

In some ways it is easier, I think at first I was closer to having an emotional breakdown over it than I am now, but in some ways I'm worse.

My third night in the hospital I wasn't being given my pain medicine and I was in a lot of pain, we were up at about 2 AM doing one of his feedings and I remember how frustrated I was. From birth he's been strong and he's pretty much always fought me when it comes to feeding him (it's like he wants to do it all himself but he also thinks my nipple is a moving target when it's being held still). That morning I was in horrible pain from my surgery and he was screaming and crying and I just sat there, struggling to get him latched, and cried over him while Patrick tried to help me.

Before two weeks was up I kept telling myself to just keep at it. I went to a lactation support group (I need to go back) and they did help, for a bit. I guess it's still helped what they taught me, but we still have problems often.

Since day four, the day we left the hospital, we've been supplementing with formula on our pediatrician's recommendation (if you're reading this and thinking "Oh, well that's why it's so hard for you now!" Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I've actually learned to use formula to make it easier to breastfeed him, such as when he's so hungry he's frantic and won't latch, some formula to ease his hunger helps big time. Until he was established breastfeeding I would only give him formula after breastfeeding (now I do it if we're somewhere where I can't nurse and have no breast milk) so he didn't learn to be lazy--I'm actually amazed how he has no issues switching between breast and any kind of bottle I've given him as well as pacifiers. This boy will latch on to anything, he's not picky).

Wiley was born 10 lbs 6 oz, a big baby. When he left the hospital he was down to 9 lbs 6 oz. The pediatrician reassured me that she'd also had large babies and that sometimes you just have to play catch-up and that it can be hard to make enough milk to satisfy a large baby's needs. It didn't mean I had to supplement forever, but that I should at least supplement until my milk came in.

Well, silly me, I thought my milk came in enough just when I could tell it was actually coming in (wrong). I started cutting back on the formula before he was even two weeks old and at his first doctor's visit in the clinic we discovered he was down to 9 lbs 3 oz. We talked to our doctor about how much we were feeding him and it was determined that we should just try to supplement with 2 oz of formula every feeding, which we've been doing ever since. We had that appointment on a Friday and then the next Thursday I went to the lactation support group, we weighed him and he was up 9 lbs and about 12-13oz (his weight fluctuated since I also fed him while there to see how much he was getting from nursing). I took him in again the next Thursday only to weigh him and the mom that helped me figure out how to work the scale was surprised when he came up 10 lbs and saying how he'd gained almost a pound in a week. I smiled and told her we were supplementing and specifically trying to get his weight back up to his birth weight.

I didn't get to go last week so I have no idea what Wiley currently weighs, but I plan to go to the lactation support group again this week and we also have his one month check-up so we'll see where he's at soon.

Still, I hate breastfeeding. I cry at Patrick about it during our late night feeds when he's fighting against me (I believe he's harder at night because generally we go a little longer than every two hours between feedings). I tell him repeatedly how I don't want to breastfeed anymore, but still we're breastfeeding over four weeks later.

I've told my mom and she suggests it's because we're modest and don't like being naked, but I don't know where she got that idea from because I am not very modest at all and have no issue with people seeing my breasts. I don't breastfeed in public yet, but that's because I'm struggling to do it as it is, I couldn't drape something over myself and still get him latched. It also doesn't help that I am fat (I don't say fat in a negative way, it's what I am and the best descriptor of what I am. Better than "pleasantly plump" or "full figured" or anything) and I am acutely aware that if I were to try to breastfeed in public, as little as I care about people seeing me do it, I feel I'm more likely to attract negative attention than a skinnier woman (and let's be honest, any woman breastfeeding in public is likely to get negative comments from closed-minded idiots, regardless of how she looks) and I already feel so negatively about the process that I don't want to completely ruin it for me forever.

No, it's because I have carpal tunnel, I hurt my right wrist further during pregnancy by falling on it twice and then thanks to breastfeeding my left wrist is currently as bad as my right. I have sharp, shooting pains in my wrists and hands just from moving pillows on my bed now. I have to fight with a 10 lb baby who was born being able to lift his head (not for long, but he could lift it) and who's nickname from one of his grandmothers is "Samson". It's because I struggle to get him to latch correctly and even when I think I do a few minutes later he's somehow managed to shift so that only my nipple is in his mouth-- and when the baby nurses off your nipple only it hurts. It's because I get angry and frustrated and feel like a terrible mom for being mad at my baby boy, sometimes I have to stop trying to feed him 'til I can calm down, it's so bad (it has gotten better now that my hormones are calmer). It's because it hurts to have my baby scream or cry when I'm trying to get him to latch. It feels pretty crappy to have a baby start sobbing because you shoved your breast in his mouth. I hate how sweaty we get and I hate when I wind up with my breast milk all over myself and feel dirty all day. I hate when I leak into my bras and I hate being tied down while my baby continually falls asleep mid-feeding and refuses to wake up until I've given up and just laid him in his napper, then he starts screaming. I hate feeding him every two hours and him taking so long to feed that I honestly don't even have an hour to myself to do chores, bathe or nap.

I've become even worse about it lately, I do whatever I can to pump milk prior to him eating so that he doesn't have to latch and I don't have to fight him. I don't have a nice electric pump, either. I would rather hand pump, which also hurts my wrists, than nurse, though I wish I liked nursing so he could be getting all the milk I know me pumping can't. I just want to avoid it whenever possible (and I still nurse, I stopped in the middle of typing this to nurse him).

But we're going on five weeks and I'm still breastfeeding with supplementing, despite how much I hate it. I want to give my son (and myself) as many of the benefits as I possibly can and the longer you do so, the better. As long as I feel like I can mentally stand it, I'll push on. As long as I feel like the positive feelings out-weigh the negative, I'm going to keep on. Maybe my attitude will change, maybe the problem is with me and with more support I can get the problems fixed, who knows?

And I do have positive moments with breastfeeding. I have so many photos of him after he's passed out on my breast and even in the hospital of me nursing him. I like knowing I'm doing something good for my son... but I don't like breastfeeding and will be glad when it's over.

I have so many wonderful memories of him falling asleep after a feeding and me just being in awe of this beautiful little human we made, holding his hand, etc.

He looked so beautiful and peaceful post-feedings in the hospital (he still does, but I don't have those photos on this computer, sadly).

I had hoped it would be a great bonding experience like I've heard, but it is not at all for me. I remember before I started that I planned to exclusively breastfeed for six months before even introducing food and then to continue up to a year (honestly, I had pictured how great it was going to be once we got it down and I was mentally prepared to nurse him up until three or four if he was still wanting to nurse for that long--now I'm praying we make it to a year).

I hope for other mom's out there that they don't go through what I am, I wish every mother who wants to breastfeed has a much more positive experience than I have. I'm still hoping maybe we can turn it around with enough support, but I'm already luckier than a lot of women in that my husband is fantastic at supporting my attempts to breastfeed, including getting up in the middle of the night with me to hold Wiley's hands so he can't shove me away. It will never be my goal in telling anybody how much I hate breastfeeding and the issues I have had with it to scare other women off of it, I think it's best to inform yourself... I wish I had realized all of the problems I might face going in. The latching thing was expected but I didn't expect to have such a large baby and have to play catch-up because of it, I didn't expect him to be so strong and to fight me. I assumed he'd be like a newborn kitten and just be able to latch himself (my cat, Locke, had kittens and they seemed to have no problems finding the nipple and latching despite being blind at birth), instead he'll bounce his head around like he's hoping it'll make it in and fighting me while I try to help him.

No football hold or guiding their head needed.

We're working on getting me an electric pump, so hopefully soon I'll have every tool at my disposal to continue to give Wiley the best nutrition possible, though.

I also left out that yesterday was Wiley's one month birthday! I might make another post in a few days, but here's a picture I got to celebrate it:

One month!

And for anybody interested, I got the month stickers from Belly to Baby Designs on Etsy. Also, I didn't realize that it came with the first weeks stickers so I ordered it right before he turned a month... I wish I had known because I'd have loved to have gotten a newborn photo as well as the first few weeks with those as well.

I'm stuck at home without a car until we can get a piece of paper notarized and renew my tag (because I've been driving it despite the fact it expired last month), I am super paranoid that I'm going to get a ticket and I'm not willing to risk it over half a month later because I feel like we'll be pushing our luck. But tomorrow I'll get the thing notarized (our last attempt ended badly when our power got cut off and we had to deal with getting all our cold foods and animals to my mom's house) and hopefully Friday we will get it done.

But in the meantime I'm going stir crazy, Patrick si at work all the time and I'm left alone with the baby and animals... and surprisingly they aren't the greatest conversationalists. Most of my time is spent trying to either feed Wiley or pumping breast milk in the hopes of producing more milk so that at some point we can stop with the formula.

I feel dirty constantly, I even bathed earlier and I still feel dirty. I should probably get used to it, I suspect he's going to get worse as he gets older before he gets better (in terms of vomiting, pooping or peeing on me). My face has broken out and I keep touching it because I'm self-conscious about it and bored, which has only made it worse.

Whatever.

I hope to post actual interesting stuff soon, but it's not like the life of a mommy with a newborn baby is all that exciting or glamorous. It's pretty much just feeding him, cleaning him, trying to do other random chores and changing his diapers. Maybe spend time with him the few times he decides he wants to be awake longer than just to feed. I seriously just stared into his eyes just trying to figure out if they're going to change color or not (I suspect they will turn brown but I'm hoping they won't). Other than that I've been sitting here watching New Girl. I should've just watched it when I was breastfeeding--but I get so into it I've watched it for two days straight 'til I caught up. Total time waster. I could be doing more, but not much more.... at least I accomplished something, even if it's useless.

And as usual, I'll try to end with some photos from the other day.

Lupe helping out with tummy time.

Abel came to supervise.

Mommy helping with tummy time.

Lupe and her baby boy.

Family photo time :)

Sweetness.

Me and my sweet baby boy.

Went in for my three week checkup post c-section, apparently everything looked good. My blood pressure was normal and my incision looked good, thank goodness.

Also, I'll be getting birth control, yaaaay. Not that I can have sex yet, even if I wanted to... but I'm excited to know when the time comes that we won't be having another baby any time soon. Part of me misses bbeing pregnant, I was semi-jealous of all the pregnant ladies I saw today at the doctor's (especially the one where I could tell they had just gotten their first ultrasound, so sweet), but I definitely don't want another kid for three to four years (I was 3 and 1/2 years younger than my brother and I honestly really, really like that age gap. I think it's a good one). Of course, I'm still out on if I even want anymore kids, but I don't doubt that in three years I might change my mind and forget how horrible I found the birth experience because everything else was great... well, minus the people in my life stressing me out through my pregnancy.

I had to get a flu shot. Well, I didn't have to, but I did since I don't want to get the flu with Wiley (of course, I didn't get a flu shot even when I worked at a pharmacy and didn't get the flu, but I also didn't have a kid to worry about then). I am such a baby about shots, I used to be so good... Seems to me that we're going to not be able to let Wiley come with me to doctor's visits where I get shots because I don't want to teach him to be as big of a wuss as I am. It's just extra frustrating because I used to have no problem with shots and now I whimper when they even look at me with a needle.

Then when we got home Wiley decided to pee right as I was changing his diaper. This has happened to Patrick quite a bit, but I was very proud that it had yet to happen to me. The only reason I never bragged was because I felt like as soon as I did it would jinx me, oh well. Then, to add insult to injury he spit up on me. I finally got him to nap and I'm hoping when he wakes up we can get back on the right foot. We'll see!

And of course I have to share some of the pics I have!

Patrick wasn't really asleep, but I can guarantee you he wanted to be. Still, sweet father-son snuggle time <3

Wiles at Railroad Park, he was getting burped. I love his expressions when we burp him, too cute.

Me with Lupes at Railroad Park. She is on high alert with Wiles around!

At my grandmother's funeral the other day my uncle got up and talked about Rita's life. At one point he mentioned how he believed God had "lifted the veil" at the end when Rita looked over (at nothing as far as they were aware) and said "My boys."

My grandmother lost two of her three sons, my father (the middle son) in 1986 to cancer while my mother was 6 months pregnant with me. My youngest uncle passed in the 90s when he was in an auto accident.

Even though I'm a Christian, death still scares me a lot (since it's been a reality in my life since I was born I grew up knowing and fearing it because it meant people couldn't be with you anymore). Still, I handle the death of others better than lots... But while I believe in an afterlife, I think I try to not think too much about it because it causes me fear.

But then I can't help but think back to when my best friend was murdered, her sister told how she was jealous because my friend got to be with their mother who had passed... And thinking about what my uncle said, I wonder (and hope) that maybe Court's mother was there to welcome her home when Court passed on. I know Court would have loved that, she loved and missed her mom so much.

And then, who will be there when I pass?

I've dreamed my whole life of meeting my father, so I assume he'll be one of the ones welcoming me... But who else? My grandfather? Will all my passed relatives be there or just a few? Court? I hope so, I can't wait 'til I can see her again, I miss her so much. I can just imagine her big ol' grin when she sees me coming, I can almost hear her saying "It's about time, geeze!"

It breaks my heart Wiley will never know my father, his grandfather... almost more than it bothers me I didn't have a father growing up. It breaks my heart Wiley will never know my best friend, Court. I used to think about what I'd tell any future children, I have photos of her up... I guess at some point Wiley will ask. What do I tell him? Obviously not the whole story, at least not right off the bat... it would be too scary. He'll learn it in time, I hope, because it's definitely shaped who I am. But he will know that she was one of my best friends who I loved very much, that she was somebody I consider a soul-mate and that she is missed dearly. She should have been there with me to support me through my pregnancy. I still remember Court saying how she saw me having a loving husband, kids and a house with a picket fence. I don't know about the fence, but she's definitely been right on two counts, I just wish she could have been here with me to celebrate all these things.

Wiley has taken to rooting lately, something he really didn't do when we first had him. I don't know if it was because he was a planned c-section and came out before he was ready, but he's very alert and otherwise seems like a normal three week old to me... Ok, well, I might not be an expert on what normal three week olds are like.

Still, he keeps rooting post-feeding, he wasn't even rooting when I tried feeding him to begin with. He's been doing it lately and we have given in and fed him more some of those times, only to have him vomit it up (in all fairness, I passed him to daddy and daddy was just about to burp him after continuing to feed him when the vomit happened). I thought my milk was coming in better, that things were going better with breastfeeding... but right now I feel like they're worse. I don't know if it's because he's wanting to just get the formula, when he latches he'll unlatch within half the time he was last week... still, I tried pumping post-feeding and couldn't get anything out, so I don't know if he got everything he needed in half the time or what. Of course, now I regret not staying at the lactation support group last Thursday, but I'll go again this Thursday and hopefully they can help me. Also, his one-month checkup is coming up and I can see if his doctor still wants us supplementing with formula or not. I'm hoping not, except often I get so frustrated with breastfeeding I don't want to do it anymore.

I knew it would be hard, just not how hard. I told myself to just make it through two weeks, then a month... I'm currently at three weeks and still not sure. I feel a lot of pressure to do it, partially because I was so determined to when I found out I was pregnant. I did the research, took the classes. I know all the perks of breastfeeding and I want to give them to him so bad... but I also want to not feel miserable. I want to not be in pain physically, he's hurting my wrists and now my back is getting knotted up. It's starting to get like it was when I felt I had to quit my job at the salon. I'm wanting to go back to the salon part time, too. Just so we can catch up on bills and I can buy Wiley all the stuff he deserves and all that. He's started not latching well, or un-latching from a good latch and re-latching just on my nipple and then refusing to let go. It hurts so bad! I also feel pressure from family, though only one family member in particular. I think everybody else would understand that I'm trying my hardest and if I give up I'm making the decision because I honestly think it's what's best for me and Wiley. I mean, breastfeeding is great and I'm glad I've managed this long... but it's hard and my mental and physical well being are also important. Hopefully I can go back to the lactation support group and they can help get me back on track. I only stopped by last Thursday to weigh him and he's finally back at the 10lb mark.

I'm hoping to get a good breast pump soon... I mean, I have a Medela Harmony but I'd like an electric pump. Here's hoping we can get one.

But Wiley is laying in my lap and it's hard to type and hold him so I'm going to end by sharing a couple photos of Lupe with her baby.

Lupe loves her little boy.

Patrick finally got the pack and play fully put together, I'm so excited. Before the newborn napper and changer weren't put on but now Wiley is resting comfortably.

I've been trying to go through the presents we got at the last baby shower and start putting them away/out where they'll be useful. We got yet another sound machine, this makes three. We only registered for one but the other ones have been nice, too. Especially the one a friend gave me that was one she just had. I'll probably just give my mom one of them once Wiley starts staying over at her house but for now we have three spots in the house for Wiley to sleep, anyways.

We've been cleaning some today, mostly sweet Patrick. I've taken at least two naps and now I'm sitting here typing this useless post (but I'm trying really hard to keep myself updating!).

I could probably type a more interesting, informative one... I'm just on eggshells waiting for Wiley to wake up and don't want to get into a long and involved post before then.

But for now I'll go help clean instead.

They Say to Sleep When the Baby Sleeps...

I don't think this is what they had in mind, but desperate and tired mommies do what they have to to get a little nap.

In reality I had laid down to try to nap and Patrick had to go back to work and so he handed Wiles to me to calm and somehow shushing alone worked... and we fell asleep together.

As much as I want to do co-sleeping, I'm hesitant to because I don't want to risk suffocating him. I've napped with him several times but generally not with him on me but beside me and I have a set-up to where I can't roll over on him (although my body seems to know when he's nearby and I don't move at all, anyway).

Still, I'm not letting myself get super upset when I do nap with him or fall asleep with him on me because I haven't moved and he desperately wants to be held at all times if he can... and since he's a newborn we're catering to his need to be held for at least the first three months.

On another note; Wiles is three weeks old today! Happy birthday, little man!

We wanted to get a photo for my aunt of Wiley in one of the onesies she gave him. We used this awesome red panda stuffed animal another friend gave us... 'cause trying to use Lupe to help support him did not work at all.

That perfect little face!

He looks like he's trying to pick the red panda up, haha.

Wiles with his sister, Lupe... she looks like an awkward Chewbacca.

And this was when mommy gave up trying to use Lupe as support for cute baby-dog photos and decided to switch to the panda doll, haha.

My C-Section

Wiley is asleep right now and I'm waiting for my dinner to cool down so I thought I'd post, this will probably end up turning into a ramble because even though I had a lovely baby shower today, I just feel annoyed. My head has hurt all day, I miss my husband who's gone the majority of the time trying to take care of us and even though I'm doing great with Wiley, it would be nice to feel like I had more of a break. I'm currently feeding him every two hours and that takes it's toll when every two hours you have to struggle to get a baby to use you as a milk cow.

But I will talk about the c-section and my feelings on it now that I've been through the procedure and lived to tell the tale. Now obviously this is my personal experience and my personal opinion so it won't be the same for everybody.

My c-section went well as far, as far as I can tell. They got me set up and started cutting into me about 7:15, they didn't even have Patrick in the room yet. I had thought they were going to ask me if I could feel the scalpel before they really got into it but they didn't, I suspected they had already started and it was confirmed for me when I saw Patrick come in and the look on his face when he could see them cutting into me.

The lead-up to the c-section was the worst part of the actual surgery, at least pain wise. I was so scared I was trying to hold back tears. Every time the anesthesiologist put the numbing agent in my back I could feel the needle and would cry. Apparently he put extra in my back, according to a nurse. I assume it's because of the fact I kept saying "Oww" and freaking out when he'd stick me. My poor nurse had to keep me calm during that and the epidural, I felt so embarrassed.

Once they finished and the epidural was in I started to shake, which they assured me was just a normal side-effect... but I honestly believe it was also just the sheer terror I was feeling by that point. I had already been anxious, then I got pricked and poked and everything I didn't want done to me and I knew that surgery was imminent. I even suspect they thought it was abnormal, they kept asking if I was cold and put a blanket over my arms to help me once I was in the surgery room... but then they still asked if I was ok afterward, which I suspect was because of how much I was still shaking. They had to shift me from my bed to a table, I thought they were going to drop me at one point and started whimpering and reached out for whoever was closest to me that my arms could get.

Wiley was born at 7:22, I think they actually started cutting about 7:18. Patrick had just sat down for a minute and was petting me when they asked if he wanted to watch Wiley be born. I remember he kinda stood up to look over the curtain and later just told me "it was kinda weird"... maybe he said something more elaborate, I was on pain meds when I asked. I remember the doctor exclaiming "Oh, you are a big boy!" when she first saw Wiley. Shortly after that they told Patrick he could go with Wiley to see him get cleaned up and weighed, he started to stall and stay with me and I told him to go on. There was a man (I guess another anesthesiologist? He wasn't the one that inserted the epidural but I remember him using the term anesthesiologist somewhere in his job description) kept trying to make small talk with me, I was relieved almost when he started just talking to the surgeons about their kids and their plans for labor day.

The first photo Patrick got of Wiley

They brought Wiley back to me for a few minutes which is when we got our first photos together. They told me he was 10lbs 6 oz and 22 inches long. I was still pretty terrified at that point, and in shock and just doped up. It was a planned c-section so I don't think my body was ready at all, and even though I had known I was going to give birth my mind still was having trouble grasping it.

My first photo with Wiles.

I don't think I even felt like I could hold him properly at that point, I just wanted somebody else to take him because my arms didn't feel like my arms... they were shaky and not fully under my control.

First family photo.

Then after they let me see Wiley they took him and Patrick to the recovery room to wait for me while they finished closing me up. Around 8 AM (possibly a little sooner) I was wheeled into recovery to meet with them.

I remember before the surgery, when the epidural was kicking in, how I could still move my big toe. Once I got into recovery they wanted to start me breastfeeding right away. Normally I'd have been thrilled, my original plan was to nurse immediately... but my original plan involved me pushing him out of my own volition and being able to function normally afterward. I was so shaky, they tried to hand him to me and help me get him to latch, I just wanted them to do the work. I kept apologizing, saying how I couldn't do it and needed help for a few hours afterward.... I wanted to, I really did, but I was so scared I'd drop him and my arms felt like they belonged to somebody else. An hour or so later I was trying to breast feed again and attempting to push/pull my entire body, including my numb and more or less paralyzed lower half up the bed so I could sit up and hold him. At one point I just barely managed to shift my legs and they told me what a good job I was doing to even be able to do that, I was less thrilled... it was just another example of how I didn't want that surgery.

They took my catheter out the next morning at 4 AM. I was up and trying to walk on my own a few hours later and I hurt so bad. I forced myself to walk the halls with Patrick, I was determined to get well faster.

I would honestly never choose an elective c-section. People talk about convenience--but you're getting major surgery, you need rest... and you have a newborn, you're not getting it. You hurt, not just a temporary pain like I imagine actual labor is (where yes, you're in lots of pain for hours), but a long and drawn out pain. Even two weeks later I'm not totally healed, and I'm doing much better than I think most people have expected. I can't do any holds besides the football hold while breastfeeding and I struggle, it's killed my wrists and who knows if I'd had him naturally what position I'd prefer.

Now, I'm not saying I think my c-section was the wrong choice. I had a 10lb 6oz baby, while people manage that--I at least can tell myself it was a wise decision, that he actually was a large baby, etc. I can comfort myself with the fact nothing bad happened to him due to his size, although we don't know that anything would have... but at least it was justified more so than if he'd wound up being 7lbs and some odd ounces. But I thought long and hard about it and only agreed last-minute because my doctor raised valid points about how with a bigger baby I wouldn't have the easiest vaginal birth and the quicker recovery that I wanted was likely not going to happen for me... But if my pregnancy had been totally normal I would never have considered a c-section (and Lord knows I fought long and hard not to have it).

So looking back, was it as terrible as I thought it would be? In some ways, no... in others, yes. My mental fear was so strong and I honesty don't think it would be any easier the second time around. Two weeks later and I still stand by my statement to Patrick that we may have to just adopt our next child (we'd already discussed adopting at some point, so this isn't a total change from our family plans) and that I was terrified to ever have another baby with him again as we don't know why he turned out so big (we assume Patrick and I just make big babies). I love pregnancy, but if I get pregnant with a second big baby then I'll have to go through the same thing again, especially now that I already had a c-section once and am automatically considered high risk for any future pregnancies. I'd love a little girl with him, but this is a very real fear for me. I know they say you forget, maybe I will to... but I don't know.

Anyway, I'm very tired and have run out of steam to blog.I meant to post more about other events that happened recently but I'll have to post them later. I need to wake Wiley up and feed him, anyway.

Breastfeeding Our Big Baby and Dog Park Woes

Me with Wiley and Lupe <3

Wiley went in for his one week check-up today and he is good and healthy! The only thing we need to work on is getting his weight up, he's 9.3lbs which is actually 3oz down from what he was when we were released from the hospital. I've been feeding him, I swear. I try to feed him every two to three hours (generally every two) and we'd been supplementing with formula but I backed off 'cause I could tell my milk had come in and was worried he was fighting me over breastfeeding specifically because he had the formula... So now we're back to breastfeeding him followed by giving him formula afterward 'til we get his weight back up and can get my supply of breast milk up enough to satisfy such a big baby. They keep telling me that with larger babies like him it's sometimes hard to breastfeed at first because it's harder to produce all the milk they need so I'm trying not to feel too bad, I just hate that he's hungry and I'm not realizing it. Breastfeeding has managed to mess up my wrists, though... Well, even more than they already were. I was favoring my right wrist I hurt while pregnant (plus I had carpal tunnel pre-pregnancy), pregnancy brought out my carpal tunnel and then Wiley is as strong as an ox (and stubborn) and wants to have his hands in his face and seems like he wants to breastfeed himself so he fights my hand with his head/neck (he has been able to lift his head since birth) and his arms/hands. Now I have shooting pains up in my left wrist if I move it wrong, on top of my right wrist... Yay.

Of course, I got over-zealous on the formula as soon as we got home from the doctor's office (we'd also run to the bank, taken the dog to the dog park and visited my grandmother before we got home) but we hadn't had much sleep last night (Wiley was refusing to sleep in his cradle--we'd get him down and put him in it and within ten minutes he'd start crying and the only way to stop him was to let him sleep while we held him or  let him sleep in the bed with us, which we finally broke down and did even though we know it's not suggested and would rather not (well, I love having him sleep in the bed with me but I also love not having to worry about suffocating him by accident) so we just wanted to get him good and full and happy and ready for a nice nap so that we could also nap. It ended with him having his first spit-up and it got all over his bedding and back and I just washed an emergency load last night 'cause he got poop on his bedding so now we're without spare bedding 'til I get enough laundry to justify another load (I'm not starting the wash just for spit-up, poop is a different story).

Taken last night before we even made it to bed, but this is pretty much how the night went...

We tried taking Lupe to the dog park and she was over-aggressive when another dog started humping her. Luckily the owner seemed to think his dog deserved it (she stopped as soon as she ran the dog off a big, but she managed to get some of his fur out... of course, he's a pomeranian so I can't imagine that was that hard. Still, two other dogs came running up to her and she went at them with the same anger she had gone at the first dog with and Patrick yelled and I immediately jumped in and scooped her up and told him to get her out of the park and that I'd get the baby and for him to just run her around the track outside the park (on leash) so that we could get her energy out. Still, we aren't going to be taking her to any dog parks every again, we'd already been hesitant to and stopped for the most part but that was the last straw. She's a dog that needs space 'til she gets to know the other dog, but that was just extreme and we don't know if it was just because the first dog upset her with the mounting (Lupe humps other dogs, she does not tolerate being the submissive one) or if she was extra on-edge because Wiley was with us and she's protective of her baby... But I'm not willing to take that chance again, I'm even nervous seeing her around my friend's dogs that she's played with before a bit, at least with Wiley around. Even though these dogs ignored Wiley, my friend's dogs might want to check him out and I don't want to risk her freaking out on them.

We did get a photo of them on their first car ride together, though!

I'm sure there's more but I can't think of what else right now. I need to be productive but I'm babying myself because of the c-section... Well, I wouldn't consider it babying if it was any other major surgery but I feel bad for Patrick working two jobs and still having to take care of me and the baby and animals when he's home, even though he's a saint about it all. So I'll end with this photo of Abel with Wiley because poor Abel doesn't get enough recognition on here when it comes to stories about the baby since he's still getting used to him/feeling out the situation, though I think he's doing marvelous.

Abel joined us while I was feeding Wiley some formula the other day :)

Oh, and before I forget I'm going to share the photo we got today of my now missing baby-bump. I put on one of the three shirts I wore the most at the end of the pregnancy and started getting weepy about not having my sweet baby bump anymore. I'm happy Wiley is here, but I do miss being pregnant with him. I loved my pregnant body and being pregnant, but I'm not sure that I'll ever be pregnant again simply because of having to have a c-section for a large baby and we never figured out what made him so big (it's likely just Patrick and I make big, healthy babies)... so I can't try to watch to prevent it in another pregnancy. Plus, sometimes I think with how the economy is it makes much more sense to just have one child, but we've also considered adoption. I may change my mind about not wanting to go through a c-section again in a few years and we may decide to at least try for one more biological child (I really would like to adopt at some point if we can ever financially afford two to three kids) but right now it's still up in the air. My surgery went great as far as I can tell and he's here and perfect but I'm just still traumatized by it because of my own deep, deep fear of surgery. I lived through the pain of getting prepped (even the numbing agent for the epidural hurt me a lot to receive--and they had to give me extra) and the post-surgery pain, but it wasn't an over-all pleasant experience and I'm still struggling a bit with feeling like I missed out by not getting my natural birth and all that. Anyway, we'll see when the time comes, I definitely don't want another baby for another three to four years regardless.

One-week after delivery.

The day before the c-section/Wiley's arrival!

I want to be posting more about the baby but right now he's a newborn and even though we came home Sunday and I had Patrick with me all day Monday and a friend came over to help Tuesday I just don't have time right now.

This morning was my first time while Patrick was at work completely alone with Wiley for several hours, it ended with Patrick getting home and me returning my mom's phone call only to start crying when she was getting on to me for not calling the doctor back about pain medicine that I'd called about days ago (I had been given a prescription for percocet and followed the directions and ran out after two days... when I called they asked if I was supplementing with ibuprofen and I informed them nobody had told me to do that. The nurse said she hadn't talked to the doctor yet but she would and that I could supplement with ibuprofen to wean myself off of the percocet.... which is fine, I just wish somebody had mentioned that and how much prior to me coming home and running out.) I told her I needed to call the pharmacy, just I hadn't heard back from the doctor's office (which I didn't expect) or get a notification from the pharmacy to know if they had called something else in for me.

This morning we had Wiley wake us up a lot, I was exhausted and poor Patrick did a lot of the work other than the breastfeeding. He woke up late, I hope he wasn't late to work but who knows. Anyway... he got home and I finally got a break from having Wiley all to myself and getting him down for a nap (not all of it was rough, but I did fall asleep and nap with him on my chest for an hour or so... which I love sleeping in bed with him but that just kept me from being productive at all) so now we're about to get ready to go get my pain perscription. I'm generally in good spirits 'til I start to hurt, we also just ran out of food items for breakfast and we're scraping the bottom of the barrel and running short on money this month (especially after the days of work Patrick will have missed) so we're stressed.

But I'll include a few pictures of Wiley 'cause he is adorable and worth it :)

Our handsome man!

He loves his giraffe

He made mommy lay down for a nap earlier today.

William Lawrence is Here!

William Lawrence was born August 29 via c-section at 7:22am. 10lbs and 6oz, 22 inches long.

I'm still in a little shock here and still worried because they're closing me up here.

I'm not going to make a very detailed post right now because I'm in a lot of pain and the baby is napping and I should nap with him, but I'll include a few more pics.

Our First Night Together <3

Sweet Face

I'm doing alright, just sore and in pain and I keep having issues with not getting my pain medicine. Breast feeding kills my wrists, especially the already hurt one, but my carpal tunnel is horrible in both right now thanks to swelling my whole body is hurting, but especially my feet and wrists/carpal tunnel.

Anyway, I'm going to try to nap now before he wakes up. I'll post more later.