No More Booby Juice

I think I have reached my limit.  I consider myself so lucky to have been able to provide Sam with some really great and obviously very fatty momma milk for 7 months (have you seen those cheeks and thighs?). But I think I have decided that it's time to call it quits on the nursing front.

Before I had Sam I was honestly pretty grossed out by breastfeeding.  I was like you want me to feed my child with my boobs?  Ew, and no thank you.  But selfishly I was like hey, it's free (score!) and it may help me lose some baby weight, and my mom did it with all three of her kids, so why not give it a shot.  So I did. Now I am a total convert.  There is something really cool about it that is hard to put into words.  It's like this: wow my body just grew this baby and now it's equipped to feed her?  My baby is crying because she's hungry and the best way for me to calm her down and shut her up and fill her stomach is for my body to produce food for her?  All of that doesn't even do justice for how wonderful it really was for me, but it's a start.

However, here I am 7 months later and honestly I'm just kind of over it.  I've spent a lot of time over the last month grappling with this decision.  My "goal" when I had Sam was to nurse her for at least 12 weeks, until I got back to work.  The first few weeks were really miserable and hard.  I will never forget the toe-curling pain I felt during the first week or two when I was so sore in the nipply region.  My mom even sympathized with me, so I know she still remembers 28 years later.  After I made it to my 12 week goal and was getting back to being my normal size, I figured I was really enjoying shoveling food into my mouth without abandon, so I might as well shoot for 6 months.  It's been a month since I reached that goal.  And here are the reasons why I'm over it:

-To be honest, I'm sick of wearing the same bra size as Dolly Parton.  My boobs are absurdly enormous.  I spent the entire summer of 2012 and 2013 being self conscious about the size of my jugs and I think I have reached my breaking point.  I just want to be back to my normal but still outrageously huge boobs, is that too much to ask?  If I ever hit the lottery the first thing I'm buying is a breast reduction.  Mark my words.

-I kind of just want some freedom back.  I'm a little bit sick of sharing my body.  I've basically been sharing it with Sam since April of 2012 and quite frankly I want to have it back to myself.  I want to be able to go out to a wedding or a party on a Saturday night and not have to worry about waking up at 5am because my boobs are about to explode.  And yes, I have had to wake up at super early hours of the morning in fear of exploding all over my bed.  #IsThatWeird? 

-I. Am. So. Sick. Of. Washing. Pump. Parts.  If I never see a breast pump part again it wouldn't be long enough.   

-It's starting to interfere with work.  Yes, I know, I can't believe I said that either.  But in all seriousness I would be right in the middle of something at work and then my Outlook reminder would pop up and I'd have to get up, take a 25 minute break to pump, come back to my desk and spend another 10 minutes trying to figure out where I was before I left.  It wasn't as big of a deal when I was working 5 days a week, but now that I'm off on Fridays I feel like I need to be the best employee I can be while I'm there, and spending an extra hour a day in the pump room isn't really conducive to being super productive.  And in case you were wondering ,yes I have time to get on facebook and to get a Coke Zero every morning but pumping has really started to cramp my style.

-I would like my boobs to be back to normal size.  Wait, did I say that already?

So there you have it.  Now that Sam is working on some solid foods too and needing less formula or milk, I am working my way down to 2 feedings a day, morning and nighttime.  I think after a few weeks I will probably cut those out too.  Just working on cutting it down to 2 feedings a day has been a rather painful experience.  I don't know how anyone ever just stops "cold turkey".  I'm positive I would have died of discomfort after about 24 hours.  

Here's hoping Sam's immune system stays in tip-top shape and also that I can figure out a way to eat like a non-nursing human again.  Put down the potato chips and go for a run, Jessica.  

G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S (flossy flossy)

The glamorous and not so glamorous things about being a mother. I'll start with the not-so and end on a positive note!

-Using a breast pump in the car on your way to a concert on a Friday night while thinking, "I hope the trucker next to me can't see my ta-tas being suctioned from here to kingdom come." To be clear, using a breast pump anywhere is not glamorous, but this is especially not glamorous.

-Cleaning up poop from anywhere, but especially while standing in the check out line at Kroger.  You're standing there and your adorable husband has your baby in the bjorn and he says "I think she pooped" and you turn around and there's some form of liquid dripping from his hand onto the floor of the checkout lane. The 17 year old make bagger gets some cleaner and a paper towel and gets to work while you try not to care that your kid just shat all over the floor but you can't help but feel a little but bad. You ride home with your poopy baby in your hubby's lap in the backseat because you're too lazy to get poop on the carseat pad and have to put it in the wash.  Not glamorous.

-A week later you don't realize that swim diapers don't protect from pee leaks and you leave your baby in said carseat in said swim diaper while she pees. In turn, you have to wash the car seat pad you avoided washing a week ago. Not glamorous.

-You dig for gold (boogers) in your baby's nose without thinking twice about it. You can't have her wandering around with bats in the cave. Not glamorous.

-You show up to work in a black blazer thinking you look super fetch, but in turn realize there is slobber all over the right shoulder of your blazer from holding your baby while wearing that blazer a few weeks ago.  Chances of you taking that wool blazer to get dry-cleaned: 0%.  Not glamorous.

-Your idea of a sexy bra is one that does not have breast milk on it.  Bonus points if there are less than 3 hooks in the back and the shoulder straps are less than 2 inches thick.  Not glamorous.

-Being awake at 2am for anything unrelated to social activities or husband/wife bedroom activities.  Not glamorous.

Switching gears...

-A majorly hot 40-something-male runs by you while you've got your baby in the stroller and says "wow that is a beautiful baby.  You translate that to mean "wow you make beautiful babies and I think you're beautiful too".  Thanks bro, you just made my day.  Glamorous.

-Any random stranger tells you your baby is beautiful.  Glamorous.

-Dressing your sweet baby girl up in ribbons, bows, dresses, bathing suits and sunglasses.  Also shopping for said items.  Fun and glamorous.

-Letting your sweet baby girl fall asleep on your chest.  There is nothing better in the world.  So glamorous.

-Your baby is splashing in the pool and quickly learns that she is splashing herself in the face so she starts closing her eyes before she splashes.  You realize she might be the next girl genius.  Smart and glamorous.

-Listening to the sound of your baby's infectious laughter while you tickle her.  Funny and glamorous.

-Getting an arm and back workout on the daily just by carrying your adorable albeit extra chubby baby around.  Fit and glamorous.

-You walk into a room and your baby's face instantly lights up because her Mommy just walked in.  Glamorous.

-Your husband walks into the room and your heart melts because your baby's face just lit up because Daddy just walked in.  Extra glamorous.


P.S. After having typed it 839,495,494,838 times during this blog post, I have determined that glamorous is in fact a hideous word and I don't like it anymore.  Sorry, Fergie.

Itty Bitty Baby Tid-Bits

I have had such a hard time coming up with just one single topic that I could make a worthwhile post about.  There are just so many things every day in this new-momma world that I have a comment about.  I have decided to just write some random tidbits of information that I hope I will look back on one day and find entertaining. 

-I believe the unsolicited opinions about parenting are worse than the unsolicited opinions about pregnancy.  While there are obviously conversations about parenting that I have found extremely valuable, entertaining, and sometimes quite hilarious, there are some that really just never needed to happen.  So unless I'm friends with you or related to you or struck up the conversation with you on my own accord, keep your opinions about lactation to yourself.

-Everybody says the "4th trimester", or the first 3 months of a baby's life are the hardest.  I disagree.  I felt so overwhelmed with love and joy and new amazing emotions during that time that I found it hard to complain about how tired I was or how bad my nips hurt (and they hurt BAD).  Sam slept all day and woke up every couple of hours at night, but I didn't have to work so I didn't care that I was sleep deprived.  Months 4 and 5 were way harder for me.  I had just gotten into a routine with her and then I went back to work and everything went all bazerk and I felt like I didn't know what I was doing anymore.  Thankfully now we have entered the "I think Mommy and Daddy are hilarious, and I think I'm even funnier" stage, so I'm back to really enjoying life again. 

-Waking up in the middle of the night to feed or console your sweet baby totally SUCKS.  But what sucks worse is letting them cry it out to try to "train" them to sleep through the night.  On the other hand though, if I would have known it was only going to take 2 nights of crying to get my kid to stop screaming at 3am, I would have let her cry a month ago.  I am now a full on proponent of the Ferber method.

-Sometimes I feel like I don't have anything else to talk about besides what new noise Sam started making this week or how she blew out her diaper and shit (yes, literal shit) ended up in her armpits and it took me half a package of wipes followed by a bath to clean her ass up.  So I am taking this opportunity to apologize to my childless friends for making you listen to me drone on about Sam's sleep habits, cat noises, and how she discovered her toes last week.

-I love Sam's Honest diapers.  Like, I love them.  I don't care that they are a little more expensive than your run of the mill Huggies or Target brand diapers.  They don't smell like chemicals, she never gets diaper rash, the prints are extra cute, and I don't have to leave my house to get them because they are delivered to my door when I say I want them delivered to my door.  Furthermore, their other baby products are the only thing that I have been able to bathe Sam in without her pitiful little sensitive skin breaking out.  So with that said, everyone who gave me a hard time about putting her in expensive organic diapers can go fly a kite.  Also - I highly recommending any new moms check out their website - honest.com.  

-Is there anything funnier than baby farts and burps?  Sam's sound like adult sized burps and farts coming out of a 16 pound human.  Hysterical.

-I have one of those metabolisms where if I eat what I'm supposed to eat (within reason) and workout on a regular basis, my weight stays in check pretty well.  That being said, I have been very fortunate to have lost all of my baby weight already.  I highly recommend breastfeeding, weight watchers, and training for a 5k or a 10k.  On the flipside, I hate my boobs - or rather the boulders that have taken the place of regular boobs on my chest.  The amount of cellulite on my thighs accounts for 30% of my body weight.  And my belly is still kind of squishy.  We all have our issues, and those are mine.  Meh.

-Going back to work was by far the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life.  I will preface this with "to each their own", but I honestly do not understand how anyone could possibly choose to go back to work 3 months or less after having a baby.  If I had the financial freedom to stay home with Sam, I would do it in a heartbeat.  I thank God every day now for having the freedom to have reduced my hours at my job so I have a little more time at home with Miss Sam every week.

-Your own baby's laugh and smile are the sweetest thing in the world.  I am currently convinced there will never be anything sweeter for any parent than the first time their child smiles or laughs at them.  It completely and fully melts your whole heart into a little puddle on the floor.  It's no wonder kids these days end up as spoiled little brats, they probably just smile at their parents and mom or dad says "okay you're adorable, do whatever you want."  SIKE - that is not happening in this house.  Ever.

-Becoming a parent has changed me forever.  Tragedies involving children hit me a little deeper than they did before, Hallmark commercials instantly make me cry, and I know without a doubt in my mind now that there is another person on this planet that I would take a bullet for.  The lack of sleep and boulder sized knockers are worth it when Sam snuggles her little nose and eyeballs into my shoulder.  Now if only I could make time stop for a while, I'm not sure I'll ever be ready for a toddler ;-)

A New Kind of Love

It's been about a hundred years since I've posted.  If you had asked me before I had Sam what I'd blame my lack of blogging on, I would have said "lack of sleep, child is too demanding, or I just don't have time".  To my surprise, none of those would be the correct answer at this point.  The reason is, I love this kid too much to put her down and write a post.  In fact, right now she's propped up in my Boppy pillow sleeping right next to me, but she's wiggling her little piggies on my arm and it is warming my heart.

I thought I might try to do my beyond the bump blogging similar to my pregnancy blog with little categories and then notes at the end, but I just couldn't come up with anything that really felt great.  Instead I'm just going to make some points about things I've felt or done in the last 7 and a half weeks since this little beautiful nugget marched her way out of my uterus and into my whole entire heart forever.

Sam's birth was pretty uneventful.  Since she came via planned C-section, there wasn't a whole lot of drama surrounding it at all.  When I went into the operating room the surgeons had Sister Hazel playing, so I instantly calmed down a bit.  Jake and I danced to a Sister Hazel song at our wedding, so I guess I kind of took that as a sign that everything would be okay.  The procedure was kind of weird, I could feel all of the tugging and pulling on my belly, but couldn't feel any pain.  I hated the 30 minutes that they spent sewing me up after she was born.  Jake just sat next to me holding Sam and all I wanted was to hold her myself.  How is it fair that the female carries the baby for 9 months and then if they have to cut your baby out of you Dad gets to hold her/him for the first 30 minutes of life?!?  BS if you ask me!  All things considered though, I feel totally at peace with the way she made her debut.  It was peaceful and calm and she was just perfect, which is really all that matters.  One funny sidenote: since she was frank breech (folded in half), after the nurse got done cleaning her off and holding her legs down, they shot straight back up over her head.  One of the L&D nurses said "just what a new dad wants to see his daughter do right after she's born".  Not shockingly, she's had a personality since the minute she was born.

Nursing her for the first few weeks was absolutely horrible.  I don't think I'll ever forget the toe-curling pain of nursing with sore nips and engorged boobs.  Don't even get me started on how big these jugs are now.  You know it's bad when your mom tells you that you look like a porn star.  The pain has eased though and miraculously I actually enjoy nursing her.  I was totally weirded out by it before, but it has been pretty easy for me and she has been a great eater, so I have no complaints.  Jake loves it too since he has only woken up in the middle of the night about 3 times to give her a bottle.  Just another reason men have it made in this whole deal we call life.

Before I had Sam I was totally freaked out about being a parent.  Other parents with young kids have a tendency to scare those of us without kids.  It seems all people talk about is the late nights and the screaming and the nasty diapers.  What they neglect to tell you is that the feelings you have for this small being who poops and cries and sleeps and makes your boobs hurt, are unlike any other feelings you have ever experienced.  Before I was a parent I always wondered what that "unconditional love" felt like and I was eager to feel it one day.  Now that she's here, I know that nobody could ever have put it into words.  There's no amount of descriptive language that can express the love that a parent feels for their child.  And as far as "being a mom" goes, you just know what to do.  This is my public service announcement to anyone out there who feels the way I did before having a baby (a.k.a. completely terrified): it's not that bad.  In fact, it's not bad at all.  It's fun and it's great!  And if you have huge knockers like me and produce enough milk to feed an army of starving babies, you can still go out and get drunk every once in a while!  I'm sure there will be trying times in our future, but for now I'm on cloud 9 and I'd like to stay there.

A few random thoughts:

-Dressing a baby girl is the most fun thing ever.  Now I know why little kids like to play doll dress up.  I feel like I'm 8 again and dressing my American Girl doll, but I get to do it every day and my baby doll is alive and actually kind of looks like me.

-Now that I'm not scared of my own baby, I'm anxious for several of my pregnant friends to have their babies so I can see if having my own baby has changed my outlook on other babies.  I'll report back on this in May.

-The Woombie swaddler is the most life-saving baby product ever.  Sam has slept at least 5 hours every night since I bought it.  It was $30 but I would pay $100 knowing now that she sleeps like an angel and can't wriggle herself out of it like she did her swaddling blankets.  She slept 10pm-5am last night and I feel like I slept for days.

-Callie hates me now, but she's coming around every day.  I'm hoping by the time Sam goes to Kindergarten Callie will be herself again.

-I have never dreaded anything more than I am dreading going back to work.  I am trying to focus my energy on the few weeks I have left at home with my little munchkin, but the looming date of going back to work weighs heavy on my mind every day.  I need to buy a lottery ticket ASAP.

-Sam started smiling a week ago.  It was probably the cutest thing I've ever seen.

-If my ass doesn't start shrinking soon I'm going to be wearing my maternity clothes from now until after I have my next child.  I refuse to spend money on "fat jeans".  I think I'll start my Insanity workout this weekend.  And along those same lines, the first mile I ran two weeks ago was the most hilarious and miserable thing I have ever done in my life.  I hope everyone that drove by me on the street that day got a good laugh.  I'm positive I looked like a hippo shuffling down the sidewalk.  Yikes.

-I just want to say thank you to everyone who brought us dinner, bought Sam clothes, came to visit, called to see how we were doing, and even commented on Sam's pictures on facebook.  The first few weeks of her life we were overwhelmed with so much love and support, I was completely humbled by it all.  On top of that, I really don't know what I would have done without my parents those first few days.  I only hope that one day when Sam is having babies of her own that I can be as awesome as my parents were for me.  I have a completely new perspective on our relationship now that I am a parent and I love them and appreciate them more than they will ever know.

Pre-Sam Life

Before Sam got here I desperately wanted to write down the feelings I was having about becoming a parent for the first time.  Unfortunately I didn't get around to it before she got here, so four weeks later I'm updating the feelings I did get to jot down a few weeks ago before Sam started screaming for the booby juice.

Sam's birth was a little different for Jake and me because we knew we weren't going to experience the spontaneity of my water breaking, rushing to the hospital while screaming from awful contractions, and the waiting game of labor.  We knew exactly when she was coming, and I have to admit it was kind of weird.

The two days after Christmas were pretty crazy.  I wanted to do something "epic" before we became parents, but since I was suffering from major sciatic pain and couldn't drink, I couldn't come up with anything really great for us to do.  We had 915 for dinner one last time (I won't be taking my infant to that smoke-filled establishment anytime soon) and saw Les Mis (major disappointment) on Wednesday night.  Thursday we kind of ran around doing last minute things so we would be ready for Miss Sam.  Our last supper on Thursday night was Mexican food at Anita's.  Jake and I went to bed early and I downed two Benadryl since I knew it would be the last night for several years that I would actually get a full night's sleep.  Writing this now, boy am I glad I did.

My emotions were all over the map before she got here.  I was obviously thrilled to be meeting my daughter for the first time on Friday, but there was a larger part of me that just felt kind of sad.  As weird as that sounds, Jake and I have been Jake and I for 12 years and the thought of adding another person to our duo was exciting and frightening all at once.  I honestly was really enjoying our life together just the way it was.  We did our own thing and didn't have to worry about a screaming baby in the middle of the night or a babysitter on Saturday when we wanted to hang out with our friends.  The thought of all of that coming to a screeching halt made me nervous and sad all at the same time.

The fear of the unknown was also weighing on me.  What if I'm one of those moms who doesn't fall in love with my baby right away?  What if I suffer from postpartum depression?  What if she won't nurse?  What if Jake loves her more than he loves me?  What if I never regain feeling in my legs after the spinal?  What if there's something wrong with my baby?  What if I don't recover from surgery very well?  Knowing right when your baby is coming is a blessing and a curse.

Luckily for me, none of my fears came true.  I fell in love with her instantly.  I am not suffering from postpartum depression.  She is nursing like a champ.  Jake still loves me.  I'm walking like a normal human.  She is completely healthy.  And 4 weeks later I am doing pretty great as far as recovery is concerned.

Stay tuned for the latest on life with Sam :)