Category Archives: nursing

Quick takes

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I’m playing with fire right now.  It’s the time in the napping hour when M could wake at any moment, and this post will be tiny.  Or he could sleep, and I could get a few more posts to be scheduled.  I’m hoping for the latter.  I have so much to say, and no time to type it.

Activities. Do you put your kids in them?  Our kids are what some would call very active.  I don’t think so.  I like having a schedule, having some busy-ness, and down time too.  Jack is in hockey, he is in an open skate time now, and will do a clinic in the summer to keep up on his skills.  We did this clinic because mostly, it’s during the week, during the day, so it makes the weekends have more time for pool time. Both kids will play spring soccer, and Luke is in gymnastics now.

This summer, they will both do soccer, vacation bible school, and Jack will do a 4 day football camp, as well as a spanish camp at the end of the summer.  However, in the fall, he will play flag football.  He’s VERY thrilled about this.  So, there it is.  Active, yes… Crazy? not really.  They each play a sport.  They each have VBS, Jack gets 2 clinics extra.  I’m defensive about it.  Why?  I have no clue.  We value what team sports, and what group activities can teach.

My dad turned 70 yesterday.  He’s the most un-70 year old I know.  It makes me feel weird that he’s 70.  He’s acting like he’s feeling it, but he’s beyond active.  For example, in December of last year he rode this ride.  Joe and I won’t even ride it. 60 MPH folks.  He said he’d have rode it again if there had been time.  He goes to Sturgis, travels a ton, and plays hockey with the kids.  Yet, I know that 70 isn’t 50, and it makes my heart hurt to know that our parents are now well into their grandparent years.  I know what’s ahead, and it scares the hell out of me.

Finally an update on the last post.

I’m doing ok.  I’d be lying if I said there weren’t some ugly cry tears the 1st night.  We let Max cry it out, and the first night was an hour and 30 minutes.  The second night was an hour.  He has asked a few times to nurse, and when I say no, he accepts it.  I’ve started to go through the baby clothes and I find myself misty eyed at the fact that it’s over, and excited to purge the stuff.  I’m excited to sleep full nights, focus on the fun ahead, and snuggle the kids as much as they will allow.  This is a good, hard, change.  But, it’s the right choice.  Thank God I have a supportive hubby.

Hard Decisions: Keeping it real.

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Step into my brain for a moment:

“I can’t believe I’m acting like this.  I mean I have 3 healthy beautiful boys AND I was able to nurse them all for decent periods of time.  I’m being ridiculous.  Look there! Look at the cover of People magazine this week.  Valerie Harper has brain cancer.  She will die in like 3 months, and I’m weeping/ugly crying over this… I’m just stupid.  I need to just blog, but what will people think?  I’m a nut case, I’m an emotional train wreck… both are probably true… at least in this moment or always :) .”

In walks Joe.  He hugs me tightly, & I admit my stupid feelings.  He holds me close; longer even, then I thought he would.  He tells me how proud he is of me.  So proud of what I’ve sacrificed for our kids.  He tells me there are new journeys ahead.  That he’s here for me, and while he’s never done this, he gets how I’m feeling.

I grab the computer, head to the main floor.  Turn on the t.v., and type to you.  I need to blog.  Because it helps me release it.  Because if you think I’m nutty, you can.  I don’t care. (yes, I do, but I don’t want to know :) ) This is my outlet, and I’m using it.

So, here it is.

After a moment out with Max, and him having a meltdown, he asked for “this”, (pointing to my chest). “Feed you.” he said.  I looked at Joe, excused myself, and for the first time in months, fed my son in the middle of the day by nursing him.  That’s when I decided it was time.  Time to let go of this wonderful gift I’d been able to give.  Joe and I talked that day. We decided that over the weekend we would quit nursing.  Here I sit, after my very last nursing session, ever.

Yes, ever.

That’s the other thing;  We have also decided to be done having kiddos.  Saying it, even typing it, makes me get a lump in my throat & just become sad.  The truth is, if there weren’t such risks for me having babies, we’d be having another.  But there are.  So.Many.Risks.  Then there is the guilt.  I have friends desperate to have just one baby, or desperate to give their kid a sibling.  How dare I be so sad..  How dare I be ungrateful….

But, I am sad.  The only thing I can do is cry, and look for the brighter side.

There are many great things ahead right?  Like being diaper free, gate free, childproof free. Not being overwhelmed. Sleeping through the night again.  We can take different trips and attending sports for the kids will be easier.  Tons of cool things.  I’m just bad at letting go, I’m bad at change too.

Thus the goofy tears, irrational thoughts, guilt and lastly this post.

Can you please do me a favor?  Not that I expect negativity here, but the sensitivity level in this hizzzouse is at an epic level. So, the favor: if you are planning to comment, keep it positive, or keep it in.  Please and Thank you.

 

 

KIR 378+

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As promised, I felt like a bit of an update was due on the who breastfeeding subject.

Keepin’ It Real (aka KIR) on Breastfeeding.

The day I wrote this was day 378.  (no I don’t really keep track, but Kellyn txted me a congrats for making it a year, and I realized it’s been 378 days today)

I sit here in the dark of my bedroom.  I have just rushed upstairs to catch Joe and tell him that “Max didn’t nurse earlier”  when he’d gone to bed at 745.  It’s now 950, and he’s up crying.  Joe says nothing to me.  He knows where my heart is with this.  He simply follows me into our darkened bedroom and waits for me to get in my comfy spot.  He gently hands over Max, and Max latches.

It is here, in the quiet of this sacred spot, that I relax unwind my mind, and heart.  Here that I allow myself to focus only on Max. Just on the thought of will this be one of the few times I have left to give this amazing gift to him?  Will he be our last baby?  I focus on this feeling, and it overwhelms my emotions.  I need to remember this moment.  I rushed through this with Jack, and was surprised to be done with Luke.

So, I just breathe.  I feel the warmth of his little body next to mine.  Look at his sweet face in somewhat of slumber, and I make memories of this.  When he’s done I pull him to my heart and let him snuggle me for a while.  Normally I’m already walking him back to his bed, patting his back as I go.  Kissing the cheeks, the ears, and smelling him.

Joe comes in to see where I’m at in the process. He waits patiently as I finish my little moment with my littlest man.  Joe is so good about this.  So utterly supportive.  He’s not once asked when I will be done, pressured me to stop, or given me crap about this.

Max is starting to wean.  We’ve gone from 4x a day to 2.  Just before bed, and early in the morning.  I plan to let this go on for a bit.

Why do I feel like I need to justify that?

Here’s why………..

This is partially my own fault.  I blabbered all over that I was “going to make it a year, hoping to reach my goal”

Then came the questions…

I normally got asked “Oh are you still nursing”

But now it’s the same plus, when do I plan to stop.

Or even getting playfully teased.  ”Cut the chord”.  I know they mean no harm and I joke back as well.

It really doesn’t bother me.  I get it.  Time magazine exploited it.

The thing is, I don’t feel that for me, nursing a kid past 15-18 months is plenty.  To each their own.

Yet, when I go to the pump room at work, I get the feeling that people are like “enough already”

Or when I get asked the question of when I plan to stop, I find myself defending/explaining why I haven’t.

Really, it’s a personal choice for each woman.  (Like I’ve said before)  My personal choice is to allow this transition to end slowly, and enjoy him being little, needing/wanting to nurse with me, and make some memories.

 

Happy Birthday Little Sir

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You stole our hearts just 1 year ago.

8 months before that, we heard your sweet heart beating for the very first time,

and felt immense relief that it was so strong and vibrant.

The past year has been unbelievable.

 You had only added so much joy to it.

You:

can say 15 words already.  Everything from Momma, to cheese, to Guys….

nursed with Mommy for over a year (still do 1-2x per day)

love to be on the move

love your brothers

love the pool

love steps

love the phone cord

love Elmo

love to dance

know how we pray at meals and chime in each time

look just like Grandpa Greg

love blankets that are knitted

are a speed crawler


Love the dog

love balls

love to drink from a straw..

We could go on and on, but in short,

You.are.everything.

We love you to the moon and back again.

Happy 1st Birthday M.

Sunday Morning

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Good Morning,

There’s something about Sunday Mornings.  The still of the morning after the babe has just fussed for his morning feed.  Half awake as I stumble to his room.  Snuggling him up to me in the quiet of my bed.  Rubbing his back, feeling his sweet hands twirl my hair and reach to grasp my face.  Filling him full, and cradling him back to his bed.

Going then through the list of the day or the week ahead as I desperately try to will myself back to sleep.  Wondering how J is doing… will he be home from work soon….

Then comes the pitter patter of (larger) little feet.  And, somehow, the internal clock of the older two brothers, has stated that it’s after 6 am (even if just a minute after) and it’s time to get up.  They come to my room, and I beg for more snuggles of sleep.  But, there are cartoons to be had.  Be this the only time I don’t feel the mom guilt of them zoning out to the tube.

Today was different though.  We got up at 6:01.  Luke went potty (this is a newer and lovely development)  We fed the sweet puppies, and decided to make homemade warm scones.  J’s older brothers recipe.  They both sat, my sweet older boys, on the counter tops.  Taking turns adding ingredients.  They made my heart fill with warmth.  Then we heard the code for the front door go in.  Off they jumped, to see their daddy.  There were cries of “Uppie, Uppie,” and I wondered how much longer the beg to be picked up would last.

I know that’s silly, but Jack will enter kindergarden in the fall, and I just can’t seem to wrap my head around it.  He and I ran to the store yesterday, and from the car to the checkout, and back, he held my hand.  Please God, let this last another few years….

It is here, in the still of the sweet Sunday mornings, that I feel most happy.  I  look forward to getting ready for mass, and to being just our little family.  It’s before my brain has time to register all the “to do’s” that don’t really matter, but plague me anyway.

It is here that I know I have a blessed life and the worries about the rest seem to fade like the steam of my freshly made coffee.  I only wish Sunday mornings came 5 days a week instead of 1.

 

Nursing pt. 2

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Incase you missed the prior post, look here.

As the last post stated, my first nursing expierence started out well.

After the first month, I had it all…..I was pumping out what Jack didn’t eat, he was eating with me like a champ, and taking bottles.  Even when I went back to work, all was good.  I was a lazy nurser.  I only did it when I wanted to, and would ask Joe to help at night, then sleep through, and pump 18-22 oz. in the morning.

We had decided to go on vacation to Disney World, and this was the time they were making nursing mothers drink their own milk.  I thought I was fine, we had a gigantic stock pile saved in the freezer, and it was time to quit.

I did this at 6 months.  For me, big mistake.  HUGE.

I rushed into it, and quitting sent me into a post partum sadness I hadn’t expected.  It lasted a few months, and I swore when I had another baby I would nurse them until they went to college.  (Not really:))

When Luke came along, we were only seperated after his c-section arrival for about 15 min.  He also latched on like a champ, ate well, and life was bliss.  I also manipulated “the ladies” and once again was making the dairy barn at the State fair look like a small farm with one cow….(does that even make sense)…. He too took bottles like a champ, and switched back & forth with ease (do you hate me yet?)

Around month #10 for Mr. L., he decided that Momma wasn’t cutting it.  He refused to nurse.  He cried, and wanted nothing to do with me.  I tried.  SEVERAL TIMES for at least 2 weeks.  Then I gave up.  Once again I was sad.  Soooo soooo sad.

It was better then knowing I’d quit though.  With Jack, our stock pile ran out a bit early, so he ended up getting some formula, but with Luke, he only ever had my milk.  That made me feel less sad… like less of a quitter.

I realized after having Luke that all the insecurities I’d had about not delivering the regular way, were made up for the fact that I had decent nursing success.

Again, Joe was there, every step of the way.  He’s been simply amazing.

The journey doesn’t end there though…. with Max I became even more OCD.  (still am).  look for a post on that soon.

6

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You are 6 months old.

You roll from your back to your tummy with ease.

You smile at everyone and they fall in love with you instantly.

You LOVE your brothers and they get the best laughs out of you.

You are just getting to start the veggie baby food and you like it.

My favorite thing about you is everything.

Except maybe your consistent bm blowouts.

I love the way you sleep, the way you laugh, the way you look at me.  Just everything.

You are a Momma’s boy.

You love your blankey and putting it over your face

You look adorable in every hat we put on you.

You are 20 lbs. :)

You LOVE to jump.  Thank God for the Johnny Jumper.

You smell like a combo of spit up and heaven at all times

We adore you, and thank God for you.  We wished for you and hoped for you and are greatful for you (and your brothers)

Now, please stop growing so fast.

In which I share my feelings on nursing, pt. 1

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I feel like this topic is controversial.  But, I really don’t get why.

Maybe because the decision is so personal.  To me though, it really boils down to the mother, or even the couple.  What do I mean?

Um… before I get into it, I want to explain a few things. I’m going to spell out words that might invite spammers.  Also, this is my story, and my feelings, and my experience… It’s not meant to be offensive.

Starting from the begining,

I used to think that it was gross.  I would see women doing it in public, and I thought, I couldn’t do that.  My “ladies” had always been more of a attention grabber, (not by my choice), and not so much of a feeding mechanism.  Not that I would give them dirty looks or anything, but more like “um, that’s not for me.”

Then I got preggers…. I was told by friends about their issues with nursing.  From the   n i p p l e   shield that had to be used or trouble with latches. Most of their issues then became fears of mine.  The longer I was prego, the more I wanted to know more about it.  I discussed it with Joe, and we decided to try it.  We are cheap, and it’s free :)

We read up on all the no-no’s.  Like, don’t let the hospital give the baby a nuk.  Or don’t let them give the baby sugar water… or, they need to latch asap, or if they come early…they have a harder time latching.

In taking all this into consideration (like any new, freaked out mom) I had a plan.  My baby would be born naturally or with an epidural, and I would hold, and nurse him on the spot.

But,

that’s not what happened.  Not even close.

Jack was born via c-section, due to my lack of dilation and his heart rate dipping way too low.

He was born, and I didn’t see him again for an hour and 45 mins.

Luckily, my husband is a semi-God, and held him off from the stated no-no’s above.  I found him in his little hospital bed, sucking the hell out of his hands.  The poor kid was STARVING.

I put him on, and it was like it was meant to be.

But,

He was a week late.  (Yes, I buy into the b.s. about if the baby’s born early, their latch is poorer)

My  n i p p l e s   are “ideal for nursing” (per the lactation consultant)

I had UBER support.  I wanted to give up around day 2, and again the God husband stepped in and said, lets just try it again.  He helped me work the udders, and made me keep at it when I was feeling like I was horrible at it.

Let’s keep it real though.

It hurt.  For about the 1st 2 weeks.

I was doing it wrong, and thankfully I had a nurse come out after he was born to help correct the issue.

I also had no clue about pumping out the other side to avoid engorgement.  (at the time, Jack would eat off only one side and be full)

That’s what I went through the first time.  But not all of what I went through.

There’s more…. way more.  Maybe you don’t want to even know, and maybe someone will find it helpful.

*****Why do I think it depends on the mother or couple?  Because the mother has to want to even give it one try.  That still doesn’t mean it will work.  If it’s not working, and it’s what she wants to really do, she needs support.  Even then, it may not work.  This makes her still as amazing and wonderful a mother as she was the day before she delivered.  Being a mom who nurses her baby doesn’t make you better or special.  It makes you the same as a mom who formula feeds.  Just like being a mom who delivers “the old fashioned way” versus one who has a c-section.    Therefor, if the mom wants to, and her partner helps her, it might work.  But it might not.  If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t matter.

5 wks and 1st’s

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Max,

Today you are 5 wks old, and this makes me sorta sad.  Where is the time going?  I want to tell you about the last 5 weeks, and what they have meant to all of us.

You have had a series of firsts:

  • First Parade, Heritage Days
  • First Pool Dip (we only dipped your toes)
  • First Funeral :( RIP Mike
  • First Crazy blowout day (church last Sunday)
  • First soccer game, Jack’s
  • First Smile, at Daddy, at 4 weeks
  • First non-routine Doc appt,  Reflux at 4 wks.  You were 11 lbs :)
  • First time peeing on someone, at 2 wk check, on your doc.
  • First pooping on someone, Daddy, 1st day home.

There are more but I can’t find the paper and you are on me right now sleeping so nicely, so I will add them in time.

You like to be warm Mr. Max.  VERY WARM.  Which is lovely and also a challenge, because I hate being hot, yet we are together so much, we give in to your needs and I just deal with the sweat with a smile on my face.

You LOVE the Ergo.  Thanks to Stephanie, for her post about how wonderful it is.  WORTH EVERY PENNY.  Thanks to Hubby for the awesome, daily used, x-mas gift. Wish I’d had an ergo before.

You sleep pretty good for an infant.

You like baths, but only if the water is borderline too warm.

You will be baptised this weekend :)

Your Big Brothers ADORE you.  I mean, They fight to hold you, be the first to help you, and can’t bear to hear you cry.

They like to hold you like this…. the most.

Your Daddy can score a burp outa you anytime, and your Momma stinks at it.

You have only puked on your dad once so far, but Mommy has the pleasure of it, about 11 times now.

You hate your reflux medicine, even though I’ve had it flavored.. you still hate it.

You load your pants so loudly that it makes me giggle, and dread what I’m going to find :)

Your nickname is Sir Grunts A lot.  People will often remark how noisy you are.

You sleep through anything, Brothers screaming, Momma screaming, Dogs barking. A.n.y.t.h.i.n.g.

You are the piece we were missing, and we simple adore you.

 

Party of 5

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Hi Friends,

Guess what?  Our baby is here.

We are THRILLED.

Max was born 7-19-11.  He’s 7 lbs 14 oz and beautiful.

See….

he has steely blue eyes and light, almost gingery hair.

He’s so loved friends.

his brothers adore him.

so do we!!!!!!!

Welcome to the world Max!!! you make our family even more complete!