Conflicted

I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes.

I just don't know what to do. I have been breastfeeding for six weeks, and trying so, so hard to give my son what he needs. I use a supplemental feeding system. I work hard during the feeding to try to keep Tyler interested. I pump after every feeding. I take Fenugreek three times a day. I take goat's rue (an herb) four times a day (and that's not an easy one to take, because I can't drink anything for 20 minutes before and 20 minutes after taking it).

Yet why do I feel like it's just not worth it?

According to the pedi's scale, Tyler gained 7 ounces in 7 days. Great, right? Except two days later, I weighed him on the lactation support group scale, and he only weighed 3 1/2 ounces more than he had the week before on the same scale. WTF? How can that be?

Yet it's not even the weight, specifically. It's the worry. Every week, I wonder if he's getting enough. Half of his feedings, he doesn't seem terribly interested, and I end the feeding wondering if he's getting enough. I look at him and wonder if he's too small.

I'm so sick of worrying.

I saw my OB for my 6-week appt. last Friday. Even she told me that the greatest benefits of breastfeeding are to be had within the first month. Yet I get the distinct impression that the pedi doesn't want me to give up.

I'm trying so hard, and yet I still cry every other day.

It's like losing your virginity. You can always make the choice to lose it, but once you've lost it you can never go back.

I have invested so much in this breastfeeding gig. How can I just give up?

But it is such a relief when we give Tyler a bottle, because I know exactly how much he's getting.

I don't want the world to judge me because I'm not breastfeeding my son.

(Can you tell I'm going crazy here?)

Weight and other matters

Goodness, I just realized I haven't updated all of you on the weight issue. It really is true what they say about time passing you by...

The good news is that Tyler gained 8 ounces in one week--one ounce more than expected. The doctor was happy. He told me that Tyler could see him in one week if I was nervous, or two weeks if I felt good about things.

I scheduled another appointment for this Monday.

Here's why: When I went to a lactation support group on Wednesday, their scale showed he only gained .3 ounces in two days. Yes, I know different scales can show different amounts. However, it was enough to freak me out--that and the handout the lactation consultant gave me that said Tyler should be eating between 3 and 4 ounces at each feeding. I have reason to believe that he's getting less than an ounce from me, and no more than 2 ounces of supplement.

So, I want another weigh-in. I fear that this one won't be so positive.

Much like when I was going through infertility treatments, I now have a back-up plan for if this appointment doesn't go well. I'm going to ask the pedi about exclusively bottle feeding and pumping afterwards (basically, I'd end up doing a combo of formula and breast milk, like I'm doing now, except I'd know exactly what he's getting). You might think that sounds cumbersome, except, I'm already pumping after each feeding, so I'd just be substituting the bottle for the breast.

I am just so sick of massaging my breasts and not feeling any fullness--only drops of milk coming out. It's incredibly frustrating for me. Boy, PCOS is the gift that just keeps on giving (although, all pregnant PCOS-ers out there shouldn't be terribly concerned, because low milk supply is a condition that only affects some of us; thus, I'm living up to the name of my blog again).

In other news (yes, I am capable of occasionally thinking of something besides feeding), I am happy to say that I am establishing, if not a routine, then at least a general guideline for Tyler's daytime naps. I can often put him down for a nap and he doesn't cry at all! Yay me! And yay for time to get things done around the house!

Although I have to say that with washing dishes and changing diapers and clothes, my back is killing me...

The new norm

I had intended on writing a remembrance of last year every day last week. But, as it often does, life got in the way.

This past week has been...hard. A close relative's death, a very, very long car trip with a 4-week-old, a weight scare and subsequent crazy feeding schedule for that same 4-week-old, family drama--I am extremely glad that this week appears to be relatively routine.

After finding out Tyler wasn't gaining enough weight on Monday, I went to a new parent support group on Tuesday. I was the only one who showed up. When the facilitator asked how things were going, I burst into tears. In short order, she had found two lactation consultants who kindly took time to watch me feed Tyler. They confirmed that I wasn't making enough milk and put me on a feeding regiment that goes something like this:

Mix up formula and put it into a supplemental feeder (a tube that attaches to my shoulder and goes down to my nip.ple). Feed Tyler both with my milk and with the supplemental formula that he is getting while s.uckin.g on my nipp.le (written that way so I don't get perverts on my site). When we are finished, pump for 10 minutes for additional nipple stimulation. Store whatever I get from pumping and use it for the next feeding session, which will probably be in two hours.

The whole process takes nearly an hour. These days, Tyler is feeding every two hours, which means that I am dedicating literally half my waking hours just to feeding him.

Complicated? Certainly. And that's before we introduce the road trip into the whole process.

M was such a trooper. He's a meticulous guy to begin with, and he had us so incredibly organized with the pump, the supplemental feeder, the formula, the nursery water, the bottle warmer (both regular and car), the accessories, and the dishwashing paraphrenalia. I could never have done it without him. Although I didn't particularly enjoy pulling into McDonald's parking lots, finding the most out-of-the-way parking space there and spending the next hour and 15 minutes trying to feed, eat, pump and change Tyler in the most efficient way possible.

The visitation and funeral went as well as can be expected. My uncle is an ass, and he was terrible to my mother. But my grandmother loved meeting Tyler and our niece, and I think they were the one bright spot for her in this whole terrible week.

I've run out of time to post--got to feed again! Yes, this is my life, and I definitely can't take this long-term. But we have a weigh-in this afternoon, so I'll update later.

November 3

The day after Zach's diagnosis, I was scheduled to play a concert in a mall with my community handbell choir. I chose to go ahead with my commitment, partly because it would have been impossible to replace me, and partly because I needed a distraction. I e-mailed the choir members on Friday, asking them not to mention my pregnancy at all. They complied. I made it through the concert, but only after working hard to keep my emotions in check amidst all the music (music always makes me cry).

Today was supposed to be a decent day with beautiful weather. Instead, it turned into an incredibly sucky day. My grandpa died this morning. It wasn't unexpected; he's 93 and he's been ill for quite some time. Still, you can never prepare for the death of a family member. He lived 8 hours away from us, so that means we'll be traveling that distance with a 3-week-old. With stops for feeding, it's going to be a looong trip--not to mention a very, very sad one.

Then, at Tyler's pedi appointment, I found out he's only gained 6 ounces in 2 weeks. I had suspected he wasn't getting enough food. So now I have to supplement with formula. I know many have had to do this, but I'm still so disappointed that I can't make all the milk he needs. I have a whole new world of worry now.

November 2

On November 2, 2007, I went to a perinatologist to find out why I had a low level of amniotic fluid in my uterus. The verdict: My baby had no kidneys, which meant he would never live outside the womb. I could either carry to term (with no hope of his survival), or I could terminate the pregnancy. Devastated, my husband and I held each other all night, leaving home only to go to church and pray.

M, Tyler and I traveled to the Chicago suburbs for our very first overnighter as a family of three. Overall, it went well--despite my parents' incredibly sucky rocking chair. This morning, we went to our niece's baptism. Afterwards, all of us went to a pancake place to celebrate--us, my parents, my brother, SIL, the baby and their 2-year-old, and SIL's two sisters and their families--a total of 11 kids under 10, most of whom are younger than 5. Needless to say, it was pandemonium, especially when my 2-year-old niece decided to throw a major temper tantrum. Guess whose kid was the most angelic of all of them? (Well, then again, Tyler is only 3 weeks old and mostly oblivious to the world.

One question, however: When a baby is fed, and changed, and comfortable, and consistently gets fussy (not all the time, but usually at least once in between feedings), is that normal?

Need sleep advice

OK, I'm tossing this one out to the peanut gallery because M and I are totally at a loss.

Tyler doesn't have a problem with sleeping--once he actually gets to sleep. Getting him to sleep is the hard part. Every night, I feed him and we try to put him down. Except, he's wide awake, and the more you try to get him sleepy, the angrier he gets. How in the world do we get him tired enough that he consents to being rocked to sleep? When I wake up at night for feedings, I don't have a huge problem putting him back to sleep. Apparently, he's tired enough.

Yes, we use Mr. Karp's 5 S's. Yes, we do the whole "nighttime routine." But none of that works when he's not actually tired!

Settling down

Tyler is actually having a good long nap, which means I have time (!) to update my blog. I love watching him sleep; he just looks so peaceful and cozy. (By the way, I am reading your blogs. However, since my reading time is mostly limited to breastfeeding, I don't have enough hands free to actually comment. Someday, maybe...)

I can already tell that working part time is going to be the right choice for me. Much as I love hanging out with Tyler, I don't get the stimulation I will eventually need. One of the things I loved about freelance writing when I was doing it full time three years ago was that I never knew what kinds of fun assignments each week would bring. The only bad part was that I felt like a slacker in between assignments. I feel like I can get the best of both worlds now--intellectually stimulating work when I want it, and a wonderful distraction all day long. Of course, at some point we're actually going to have to have some semblance of a schedule for napping (otherwise, I'll never get anything done), but we've got time for that. After all, he's not even three weeks old yet!

Here, at long last, is a picture of our little angel: