I met a new dad in the elevator of our apartment building today! His daughter is 12 days old. So of course I gave him one of my blog cards. (They're very cheery, with blue flowers...) I remember how valuable it was to me to have another nursing mama in the building when we brought little Robert home. We were exhausted and terrified, and my nipples hurt and it seemed like I was never going to figure this breastfeeding thing out. We were still working on latching and didn't yet know that I had yeast (ugh), and I was miserable. I dreaded the next nursing, and would procrastinate until the poor little guy was too mad to latch on well. I was convinced it would always hurt. Then my neighbor mama RC told me she hated it at first too, that it was painful and difficult and she was frustrated. "Now I love it," she said, very matter-of-factly.
Mama RC is not one to blow sunshine up one's skirt. She is immensely practical and down to earth and capable - if you have to organize moving the entire country one foot to the left, you want her to do it. So I sort of looked at her incredulously, thinking, "That is not possible. But I know she would not make that up." This is the sort of woman who would not lie if the real answer was "it still sucks and I can't wait for it to be over." But she didn't say that, so it must be true, she loves it. It gave me a glimmer of hope. And of course you all know the result - I loved nursing Robert so much, I cried when it was over, and blogged about it for weeks. Not that it takes much to get me to babble for weeks, but on the other hand my attention doesn't always stay that rapt.
So on I struggled. And it did get better. It got less painful, I got more confident in it, and then one day I realized I had liked it for a while. And soon, I loved it. I got a happy mama bliss moment when we got started nursing, and felt so wonderfully bonded to Robert, and so proud of myself for persevering. And that was while we were *still* fighting the yeast!
So I hope my neighbor hangs in there. I read in one of my nursing books - Companion or Womanly Art, don't remember - an interesting analogy. Quitting after a few weeks is like going to see a movie you are really excited about, dealing with traffic and parking, waiting in a long ticket line, waiting in a long concession line, finally getting to your seat, and then deciding the whole thing is taking too long and going home, just when you were about to get a tremendous reward for your trouble. But the movie is great, will last longer than the unpleasant beginning, and will give you wonderful memories for years.
I promise it's worth it new mama! And I'm in 1402 if you want to talk.
Much love to you all!
Suzi
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Preggers!
Okay how many of you already knew because all I can talk about lately is birth? But yes, we are very blessed and happy and grateful and tired, and are now ready to share that we are expecting Kiddo #2 in late September. I have been blessed so far with a fairly easy pregnancy, no barfing (please don't hate me) just queasiness, fatigue, and dizziness. And odd food aversions and cravings. Robert was "bunny" for a long time because all I wanted to eat was nectarines and leaves. This one is some sort of marathon runner, because I've been sucking down Gatorade (which helps with the dizziness) and potatoes. Seriously I have been eating baked potatoes for breakfast. They re-warm in the microwave fairly well, and there's good nutrition in the skins. And of course they make an excellent vehicle for butter and salt.
We are working with a midwife this time, and WOW what a difference. I get an HOUR to see her at each appointment. I actually have THREE midwives, a lead, an assistant, and a student (named Susannah! A good omen.) I can text any of them when I am concerned about something and they answer me as soon as they can (no dice if they are at a birth or sleeping after a birth of course but there are THREE of them so one of them is bound to be awake). We are probably going to birth at their birth center, hopefully in one of their huge, gorgeous birth tubs - like a really big bath tubs. Good luck to them getting me back out of that thing after nine months of no hot baths. Well it won't be hot but still. And if the God forbid happens, which it won't, they stick me in an ambulance and come with me to a great hospital five minutes away. My OB in Cali was a very good man and all, but this is just a totally different model and I like it way better.
So speaking of God forbid, and let me preface this with the fact that protoperson and I are just fine, I managed to scare the foo out of my already nervous mother this weekend by passing out at the farmer's market. Oops. I felt cruddy so I sat down on the ground, which is good because I didn't fall. But apparently I passed out with my eyes open, which is really freaky looking, and my poor mother (who is a little old lady who probably figured at 37 her youngest child was done scaring her) thought I was dead. So I woke up with Mom yelling my name, thinking, "Why is Mom yelling? I'm trying to take a nap. Wait, I'm outside. Who's that other lady leaning over me? Why are all these people looking at me? Huh. This is weird." The paramedics were very nice, my nurse in the ER was a hoot, and the doctor was very reassuring. We got an ultrasound to check the baby (when she said protoperson was fine I was so relieved that I cried and she had to ask me to stop jiggling my stomach - oops. Well, she's an ER doc, she's seen worse than a few tears.) and my Mom got to see the little critter, who waved at her, as if to say "Hi Grandma! See, I'm fine!"
And now I have already taken an ambulance to that very same hospital, and I can tell you they do good work. I'm fine now, it was just a nasty intestinal something or other which cleared up in a few hours. If I wasn't preggers I probably would have just gone home.
In less dramatic news, I'm signed up for the peer counselor training at the Oregon Nursing Mother's Counsel. I'm so excited! What a great outlet for my lactivism - a blog and a volunteer activity might be enough to keep me from babbling about breastfeeding at random parties and doctors' appointments. Well, maybe not, but anyway it's good to put abundant enthusiasm to productive use. I'm sure I'll blog about it after it starts. They've already sent me homework! Hee hee. I have boobjuice homework. A lactonerd's dream!
Much love and happy boobjuicing!
Suzi
We are working with a midwife this time, and WOW what a difference. I get an HOUR to see her at each appointment. I actually have THREE midwives, a lead, an assistant, and a student (named Susannah! A good omen.) I can text any of them when I am concerned about something and they answer me as soon as they can (no dice if they are at a birth or sleeping after a birth of course but there are THREE of them so one of them is bound to be awake). We are probably going to birth at their birth center, hopefully in one of their huge, gorgeous birth tubs - like a really big bath tubs. Good luck to them getting me back out of that thing after nine months of no hot baths. Well it won't be hot but still. And if the God forbid happens, which it won't, they stick me in an ambulance and come with me to a great hospital five minutes away. My OB in Cali was a very good man and all, but this is just a totally different model and I like it way better.
So speaking of God forbid, and let me preface this with the fact that protoperson and I are just fine, I managed to scare the foo out of my already nervous mother this weekend by passing out at the farmer's market. Oops. I felt cruddy so I sat down on the ground, which is good because I didn't fall. But apparently I passed out with my eyes open, which is really freaky looking, and my poor mother (who is a little old lady who probably figured at 37 her youngest child was done scaring her) thought I was dead. So I woke up with Mom yelling my name, thinking, "Why is Mom yelling? I'm trying to take a nap. Wait, I'm outside. Who's that other lady leaning over me? Why are all these people looking at me? Huh. This is weird." The paramedics were very nice, my nurse in the ER was a hoot, and the doctor was very reassuring. We got an ultrasound to check the baby (when she said protoperson was fine I was so relieved that I cried and she had to ask me to stop jiggling my stomach - oops. Well, she's an ER doc, she's seen worse than a few tears.) and my Mom got to see the little critter, who waved at her, as if to say "Hi Grandma! See, I'm fine!"
And now I have already taken an ambulance to that very same hospital, and I can tell you they do good work. I'm fine now, it was just a nasty intestinal something or other which cleared up in a few hours. If I wasn't preggers I probably would have just gone home.
In less dramatic news, I'm signed up for the peer counselor training at the Oregon Nursing Mother's Counsel. I'm so excited! What a great outlet for my lactivism - a blog and a volunteer activity might be enough to keep me from babbling about breastfeeding at random parties and doctors' appointments. Well, maybe not, but anyway it's good to put abundant enthusiasm to productive use. I'm sure I'll blog about it after it starts. They've already sent me homework! Hee hee. I have boobjuice homework. A lactonerd's dream!
Much love and happy boobjuicing!
Suzi
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