Life isn’t always what you think it will be. Or at least MY life isn’t. It’s better and different and everything in between. I guess I should start with the basics- I’m a new mommy to Sara, a beautiful and spunky (within 10 minutes of birth nurses had described her as “feisty”, “strong willed”, and stubborn” and if my pregnancy was any indication they hit the nail on the head) little girl who was born in August 2013. Everyone tells you a baby changes things, that your life will never be the same and you know it- when you’re carrying that basketball on your hips you know everything will change, but you can’t really comprehend it til they’re here, I’d even argue a few days after they are born. The hospital was rosy, beautiful, and peaceful. The nurses took her at night (only waking me/her to breastfeed), she was angelic. Then we got home at the end of the second day and almost went back later that night because we were sure they gave us the wrong baby- the screaming, hysterical, very unhappy little girl we brought home was not the angel all our friends and family had witnessed in the hospital.
Like many new moms, I had a strong desire to breastfeed. Not just for the normal mommy reasons but because my husband is a hot mess. Walking into the lactation consultant’s office a few days after Sara was born was a sort of confirmation for us- that big plaque they have above their desks front and center with all the horrid things you can avoid by breastfeeding (eczema, stomach problems, allergies, SIDS, etc) – yeah, he had an overwhelming majority of them. And he was NOT breastfed (different time, no knock on my dear mother-in-law!). And he’s a hot mess, I mentioned that right? So, of course that just affirmed our decision to nurse her. What I wasn’t prepared for was how hard it is. It’s really. freaking. hard. She didn’t latch well 2 min after being born (I mean, give her a break, right? She’s had a pretty tough day so far!) so they gave me a shield so she could latch. It was also much more comfortable to nurse her with it. Fast forward a few days later and she’s not gaining weight because babies can’t get as much milk with the shield. Awesome. So we weaned her off the shield and she still wasn’t happy- she had a great, strong latch but kept getting fussy and frustrated a few minutes in, and while I could coax her to keep going it wasn’t very productive. Enter Lorna. The lactation consultant from heaven. After checking us out she recommended pumping for a little while to get my supply up, help her gain weight, and so I could heal a little (you don’t want to know). A week later we were in great shape- except she didn’t want to direct nurse. Sure, she’d latch on strong and blind me, but it wasn’t very productive. And all the research I did did not help me- discussion boards and blogs full of mommies who raved about breastfeeding, how natural it feels, how wonderful it is, how close they feel to their baby while they’re nursing, the relationship that it creates, the bonds that I couldn’t find. Depressing.Disheartening. After some more help (thanks Lorna!) I resolved to pump exclusively, making sure that Sara got what she needed even if it wasn’t the way I desired.
And can I just say how much it sucks to attach your girls to a modern rendition of a medieval torture device for 20 minutes (minimum!) every 3 hours? Sara slept 12 hrs a night starting at about 6-7 weeks, but me? Nope- 3, 5, 8, & 11 (am and pm) I was pumping. Badooh, badooh, badooh….soundtrack of our lives right now, let me tell you. And then there’s the supply issues. Dear lord. I take fenugreek, shatavari, blessed thistle, and domperidone. Domperidone is a drug that increases prolactin- i.e. it increases your milk supply- it’s other use is for anti-nausea. As a side note/rant this drug (very mild and 100% safe for baby) is available OTC most places, but NOT in the United States, but that’s a pharmaceutical rant for another day. So, life is not what you think it will be. You can plan and prepare but then you get the curveball. And it’s fine, it works out. And you should still plan, and still prepare but don’t expect it to work out so neatly that you happen to have all the answers in your back pocket for the exact problem you walked into. It rarely (if ever) happens.
While I was pregnant I read everything, book after book, study after study, discussion board after…you get the point. I thought I was so well equipped for this. Breastfeeding and parenthood in general. I’ve taken care of children for most of my life- love children. One way or another I’ve cared for kids since I was 13- before that if you count siblings. I now understand how unprepared you are- how prepared you can’t be for motherhood. As I tearily walked into my pediatrician’s office one day the dear nurse reminded me, “when a baby is born so is a mommy”- so true. No one has a baby like yours- no one will have the same set of challenges in the same order with the same backstory and side story that you do. They just won’t. No matter what you read, what you’ve experienced to this point, what others tell you, your experience is 100% your own. Others share in some of the experiences (I know I’m not the first mom who wanted to nurse and had to settle with pumping), but no baby is like yours and no mother is like you. I thought I was ready for the challenge but thank god we get help in life. My husband is incredible- a devoted, loving partner and father, and a genuinely decent human being. There’s only so much he can do, but he did it. And that lactation consultant- seriously, she’s an angel. I wouldn’t have made it over my hurdles without her. And friends, of course- to bring you a bottle of wine to the hospital, or dinner when you get home. To drop off groceries, or come and hold the baby for 10 min so you can just take a breath. My advice to all new moms and mommies to be- Take The Help. Don’t be a martyr- say thank you and take it.
Two weeks after Sara was born I went back to school- UConn studying PoliSci- and it was tough. Leaving your beautiful, fragile, needy little angel may be the hardest thing you’ll do. Because just when you start to think, oh maybe this isn’t so bad, then you feel this tremendous guilt for maybe being happy about some time away from the screaming hysterical bundle of joy. And then you convince yourself that she’s screaming because you’re failing her somehow. She screams when you put her down because she feels lonely and abandoned. And she’s only 8 pounds of innocence and you’re putting her down and making her feel all alone in this big, huge, overwhelming world. How much more terrible can you get in life than making a sweet, beautiful little angel feel so scared and alone? Well, as it turned out it wasn’t that Sara felt alone it was that she felt pain because she has a digestion issue with cow’s milk protein. Enter another hurdle. I cut dairy out of my diet and was handed back that beautiful, sweet, happy baby from the first two days in the hospital. Miraculous the difference. Then there’s more guilt, the “Oh-my-god-she-was-in-sooo-much-pain-because-I-wanted-cheese-and-I-am-her-mother-I-should-have-known-but-didn’t-I’m-the-worst-mother-ever” thought process. Keep in mind, I’m hysterical at this point. Sara’s sleeping hours on end like an angel and I’m up every 3 hours for 30-45 min each plus when she’s awake and up I’m playing the role of “entertainer” to my very active and engaged little infant. The doctor said it was normal to have a dairy issue, most babies grow out of it around 4 months he said, almost all by 5 months, he said. So, every few weeks I’ll have a little cheese (postpartum lasagna cravings like no other) and cue the screeching, back arching, demon baby whom I’ve possessed with the power of cow’s milk. She’s going to be the 1% of dairy issue babies who suffers through the full first year, I know it. Just like I knew when I started having pains at 11pm on Saturday, August 10 and called my OBGYN’s office that the ONE doctor I despised, who made me cry and feel like a terrible mom already at 5 months pregnant, was on call and that this was no Braxton Hicks. OF COURSE he was on call, of course. Like I said, you plan and prepare and research and think you know what you’re doing… curveball.
I’m now 5 months in to the journey of motherhood. I’m down to 4 pumps a day (almost 2 hrs a day of my life consumed by the badooh, badoooh, badoooh) and still on all of those fun supplements. And we’re thinking about the next addition to our family- and no, it’s not the puppy I pushed for. People tell you the pain fades, the hard times when you first bring baby home- it becomes a distant memory. Lies, Lies, and more damn lies. I remember. I remember the back labor that set in right before I begged for my epidural (that it took 4 HOURS to get). I remember how hard it was. I know how hard it is. Can I just tell you what I’d rather be doing with 2 free hours a day NOT spent pumping? And yes, it’s true the cliche they remind you of “Oh, but it’s so worth it”; yes, it’s worth it. Every laugh out of that cute little pursed smile, every smile that breaks from a frown, every moment she puts her head on my chest because her eyes are just too heavy to keep open- it’s all worth it and we’ll do it again (the number of times to be determined) but it’s hard. And I know that the next baby will be flanked by his/her own curveballs. And that’ll be worth it, too. But it’s a journey. Having a baby isn’t a goal, isn’t a result, isn’t a destination- it’s a journey and pregnancy is just prep. Your journey will be different, but this is mine. May some of my steps mirror yours, may my road intersect yours, may my experience lighten your burden and soothe (some of) your anxiety.
Love & Sleep-
Jen
- First day of life
Mommy Pumpadour 