Confessions of a Blogaholic

Really. I am a complete slave to my boobs. I've been breastfeeding since about half an hour after Ry was born, and no one ever told me how much WORK it is. It is literally a full-time job to breastfeed; I have no clue how Michelle Dug.gar has done it for the last 20 years!!!

I'm trying to pump to have a small arsenal of boob milk ready to go when I do go back to work in August, but I no sooner have 4 ounces together and frozen than she drinks it (mind you, I only give her a bottle once a day and only either if we are going somewhere or once in the evening before bed). This child drinks a 4 ounce bottle at 3 weeks old!!! So, I pump and pump and get a few ounces together, and she drinks it. I'm lucky to stay two days ahead of her for that one 4-ounce bottle!

Any suggestions on best practices for pumping while breastfeeding? I try to pump in between feedings (when she goes for a 3 or 4 hour stretch between eating), but she's been on an hourly schedule during the daytime this week, and there isn't time to pump (or do anything else, for that matter) in between. Has anyone out there pumped and breastfed? Do you pump while baby eats? Before? After? Just in between feedings? Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Tomorrow evening, I am taking a few hours off from Mommy duty for the FIRST TIME since she was born. Nathan is staying home with the lil one, and I'm heading out...to the library, target for hair dye, and I'm not sure what else. I need a few hours away; I think I've earned it :)

I didn't realize it had been almost two weeks since I last posted. Wow!

Not much to report, really. Each day is pretty much the same thing over and over again for now. I wake up whenever I can't get Rylee to go back to sleep (although I've learned a few little tricks for getting her to sleep longer, which tends to allow me on and off sleep until 11 or noon). I spend all day and night bouncing between breastfeeding, changing diapers, and trying to find time to pee and eat. Ry eats about every 2 hours during the day and varies between every 2-4 hours at night, and she eats anywhere from 40-60 minutes at a time. So, for example, if she eats at 2pm and eats until 3pm and is on one of her two-hour feeding days, she will eat again at 4pm giving me exactly one hour to either play with her (if she is awake), hold a binky in her mouth (if she's grumpy), take a nap (if she's sleepy), or eat/clean/pee. I can't complain about this "new life," though, because I really enjoy having her here. I love looking at her, watching her weird facial expressions while she sleeps, having her look at me so intently when I am holding her and talking to her. She's amazing--even if she does eat like a fat kid eats cake :)

I won't lie and say there aren't frustrating moments, though. I do get frustrated when she cluster feeds for 3 HOURS (yes, she eats and eats and eats for 3 HOURS) in the evenings. I get frustrated when I've just gotten her to sleep and I set her in the bassinet and she wakes up screaming again. I get annoyed when I only get 20 minutes of sleep before she wakes up again to feed. I get really frustrated when I've done everything I can think of (diaper, feed, binky, swaddle, walk around, play, check warm/cold, massage with lotion, etc.) and she is still crying. I sometimes even get annoyed because I feel like I'm a slave to my boobs...

...but all of this is only temporary. So after my fleeting moment of frustration, I remember this will be over soon and I'll miss it. Some day, she will be able to tell me what she wants, and I won't be shooting in the dark. Some day, she'll be eating solid foods, and she won't want/need my boobs anymore. Some day, I'll be back to sleeping through most of the night, and I'll be sad that she doesn't need me as much as she does right now.

I absolutely love this baby. She is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me.

I'll write again soon, I promise, and hopefully, I'll have something more interesting to talk about :)

I just love this picture of her. Would you believe she has EVEN MORE hair now and this picture was just taken a week ago??


The boppy pillow is the best invention ever.

I had to do one more post for a few more pics!
Friday on the way to the doctor

One day old

Three days old

With Uncle Rocky

With Aunt Roberta

a chance to update :)

First, let's do the long and dirty delivery story. Then, we'll do the fun pictures!!

Monday morning, I woke at 8:30am to this weird "pop" noise. My first thought was, "Wait...what was that???" So, I lay there for about 20 minutes waiting to see if it had been my water breaking because I had heard there is usually a pop noise when that happens. No water, no gushing, nothing for those 20 minutes. I decided to use the bathroom before trying to fall back asleep, and the minute I stood up, I had THE MOST INTENSE cramps of my life followed by gushes of water. Yes, my water had broken. I called Nathan, who unfortunately was about to get pulled away from his first day at his new promotion, called Mom, and texted all the people who have anxiously been waiting some news. I also called and left a voicemail for the midwife to find out what I needed to do.

About an hour later, Mom was here, Nathan was here, and the m/w called to say I could stay home until the contractions were unbearable, but that I needed to come in within 12-14 hours since my water had broken. Nathan, Mom, and I drove to his work to pick up his truck. During this time, Mom was timing my contractions which had been completely consistent since 20 minutes after my water broke: 2-3 minutes apart, lasting about 30 seconds, and bad enough that I had to focus to get through them.

By noon (4 hours into labor), we decided to go to the hospital. The contractions were way too fast, way too intense, and there wasn't enough downtime in between for me to catch my breath and prepare for the next one. I was worried about being sent back home from the hospital, but I was also in so much pain and worried that the baby would come faster than I thought. I hadn't heard of people having regular contractions like that completely out of the blue.

At the hospital, I was ready to kill the registration lady who kept trying to talk to me when I was in obvious pain. They took me to a triage room, I was 3cm dilated, 100% effaced and -2/-1 station. My water had definitely burst (duh!), and I was ready to be admitted.

By 1, I was ready for the epidural. Again, it was too much, too fast, too painful. So, they hooked me up with an epidural, which had to be placed twice because the first time, it hit my spine, and I was feeling better. I could still, tough, feel all of the contractions on my right side, which was STILL painful. When they tried to put me on my right side, though, the baby's heartrate would go crazy. By 2, the decision was made to up my epidural dose since my right side was still so painful. (Redose #1)

Contractions were still 100% regular 100% without pitocin. The nurses were absolutely amazed that I had had no pitocin and that these contractions were natural. Go my body for doing something right ON ITS OWN!!

Around 3, the decision was made to hook up an internal fetal heartrate monitor because of baby's rate fluctuations and a contraction intensity monitor. I was around 4/5cm dilated by this point. My contractions were a 10 out of 12!!!! My midwife said..."Well, there's your justification for the epidural. Some people complain that they need an epidural because they are in so much pain, but when we get them hooked up to the intensity monitor, they are only measuring a 3!! You're having WHOPPER contractions!!! Good for you!" So, I felt justification for dropping my unmedicated birth plan--there was no way I could have handled those intense contractions all day long!

Also around 3/4ish, my epidural wore off. I was back to crying through the contractions and having to be reminded to breathe. Baby's heartbeat was all over the place again as I waited for yet another redose. The redose finally came, and once again, my right side was unaffected. So...yet another redose was administered sometime around 5:30. I should mention here that these secondary redoses made me completely useless. My legs felt heavier than stone and as a result of the 4 IV bags of fluid I had pumped into me throughout the delivery, they probably WERE as heavy as stone! I did not like the epidural, but for the short periods of time that it worked, I had some relief.

At 7, I was 7 cm, and yet again, my epidural was gone. The decision was made to replace the epidural completely at this point. Apparently, I am just immune to anaesthetics, lol. I had it replaced.

At 8, 8 cm. 9, 9cm. By 10, the epidural was gone and I was extremely close to 10 cm!!! They did a small redose, but it was not enough to get me through pushing. Before the redose, I was BEGGING to be at 10 cm. I cannot begin to tell you how much pain I was in...if only from the discomfort from laying on my left side and being hooked up with so many tubes and hoses all day long (not to mention the intermittent oxygen mask, which drove me freaking nuts!). Redose was given, and I started pushing at 11.

I was hardcore about the pushing. I was ready to be finished, and I wanted desperately to get her out before the epidural wore off again. At midnight, the m/w came back to finish off delivery. I was, obviously, begging them to "get the baby out" but everyone kept telling me I was really close. So, I pushed...and pushed...and burned...and felt like my entire bottom would blow off...and I apologized for bodily functions over which I had no control...

Suddenly, I had been pushing for an hour and 45 minutes, and I felt her head pop about halfway out. At this point, they made me stop pushing for a minute, which SUCKED--her head felt like it was bigger than a basketball, and I remember screaming that I HAD to push...I HAD to push her out. One more push and *bam* baby was thrown on my belly. I'll be honest, I didn't have that first "Oh my gosh, it's my beautiful baby and I love her so much" moment. My first thought was, "How big was that freakin head? I've never felt so much pain in my entire existence!!!!"

A few minutes later, Rylee was whisked away and the crowd moved with her to weigh, measure, clothe, etc. I was left, stranded on the table with the m/w while she reassembled my parts. I had several internal 2nd degree tears, and I felt her stitching me up (minimum 20 stitches) because she said that area isn't sensitive enough to lidocaine for good numbness. The stitching last half an hour, at which point, Nathan finally brought the baby over and said, "You wanna hold her?" I looked at him and said, "I still have her poop and blood all over my arms" (because in that entire half hour...everyone forgot I existed, lol).

20 minutes later, while everyone was out of the room for a few, the labor nurse came in and said, "We need you to pee now. Do you want to walk to the bathroom or be hooked back up to the catheter?" Seeing as how I had no epidural and had just finished the reassembly process, I decided I'd get my sore arse up from the bed and go myself.

We stayed in the hospital until Wednesday afternoon (total of 36 hours?) when I was desperately ready to go home. The actual Mommy part of being in the hospital wasn't exhausting at all--I could've handled it pretty well at home, but everyone BUGGING you every couple of hours was a pain in the ass. How the heck are you supposed to rest and get any sleep if people keep coming to demand you to pee, push around on your belly and monitor your bleeding, give you painkillers, bring you food and take away the tray?

On the day of delivery and the day after, I thought there is no way I could ever do that again. Now that I'm home and seeing how wonderful and beautiful Rylee is and how insanely in love with her I am, I can't wait to have another. Every ounce of that pain was well worth the reward :)

Now for the fun stuff...