Reminiscing on my Nursing Days

     C is basically her own person now, ready to venture out into this cruel world and kick some major ass.  Not really, but that's how it feels.  When I think back to the days when she relied on me for milk and compare them to now, it feels like she's shipping off to college.  It's awesome how breastfeeding really does make you the single most important person in your babies life.

     I loved my nursing days.  I had massive boobs, and I'm pretty sure it was solely responsible for helping me drop all my baby weight.  Oh, and more importantly... it created a strong bond and a connection with C that no one else would ever have blah blah blah.

     Part of me wishes I could have held out a little longer, when I think back on the day that I decided to start supplementing.  I wrote about that here.  Just because, how cool/weird would it be to breastfeed a six month old baby?!  It's blowing my mind even thinking about it.  She totally knows what's going on now.  I wonder if she'd be grabbing my boob and holding it to her mouth like she does her bottle.  Or if she'd be fatter or sleep differently.

     I wonder if it will be a whole different story with my next baby.  If, because I already know what to expect, I'll hold out a little longer before I throw in the towel.  (And I'm not talking toddler stage, because that's just nuts)  I hope I will, if not only for selfish reasons, (ie. looking awesome in a strapless dress & saving a tonne of cash not having to buy insanely expensive formula), but for a new experience all together.

     That is, of course, if the hubs ever agrees to knock me up again.  It's a long shot that may only become a possibility if I drown him in Kraken and swear that we ran out of protection, and how inconvenient is it that the drug store is closed at that exact time??  Yeah... I've thought this through. haha

Anywho... here's a C pic update since it's been a while.

Who wants to breastfeed this toddler?  Slowwww down!

Breastfeeding Dilemma

   

     I always knew that I would breastfeed my babies for as long as I could.  That was the one parenting decision that I was stubborn about.  Aside from the obvious health reasons, breastfeeding is free and convenient...sing me up!  What I didn't know, is how demanding of a job it is.

     C latched on as soon as she was placed on my chest in the delivery room.  It was easy.  Not that I wouldn't have worked my ass of to get her on the boob, but we lucked out and things went smoothly from the start.  I remember thinking to myself, ' I get why moms nurse their toddlers.  This is awesome!'.  That's how much I loved it.

     Little did I know, that three and a half months later and I'd be ready to call it quits.  For the past week, I've been struggling with the decision to switch C over to formula.  I wrote pros and cons lists, researched the shit out of everything and anything, and finally made a decision, then changed my mind again.

     Truth is... breastfeeding was easy.  Losing your freedom for 9 months, and then deciding to continue on with the sacrifice for another year takes way more dedication than I have.  And trust me, I guilt tripped myself to the max, saying things like ' you can't even give your baby one year of your life, when she'll make you happy for the rest of yours', or 'she's grown up so fast already, and now you're going to rush her off the boob, might as well just send her off to college now'.  Yeah...pretty harsh, I know.

    Pretty much, what I wanted was my life back.  I wanted to be able to leave C with Daddy or Nana and be able to go shopping for four hours instead of having to rush back home before my three hour deadline.  I wanted to be able to have a few drinks without having to pump for a day and a half before.  I wanted to be able to take C out for the day and hand her over a bottle (not that I haven't nursed in public, it's just easier to bottle feed).  I wanted my freedom back.

     I started out trying to get C used to a bottle first.  She's one of those babies that refuses a pacifier and is repulsed by anything that isn't my nipple.  It took work, but I began pumping and only bottle feeding her so she would get used to it.

     From there,  I decided to try and strictly pump and bottle feed her.  I pumped every meal, a whole 6 ounces, 4 times a day.  I tried this for a week and then I broke down.  I found that I was constantly hooked up to the pump, and when I wasn't, I was either cleaning pump parts or feeding C her bottles.   I stopped spending quality time, patiently teaching and playing with my little babe because I was so exhausted.  That's when I draw the line.

     I'm not sorry, but anyone who guilt trips someone into breastfeeding regardless of how it's affecting their baby is sick.  I understand that breastfeeding is extremely beneficial for a baby, but it comes at a price.  I'm not willing to shut myself in all day just to pump all of C's meals, to find that we can't even do fun things together.  It's not worth it, if I'm losing precious time with her.

     The new plan on the block is to supplement with formula when I want to.  I love breastfeeding and I'm not 100% ready to give it up.  Reason # one: I love the bond that C and I have and I like being that person for her.  Reason #2, I'm terrified that my boobs are going to shrivel up when my milk goes away.  I already told the hubs that he better start investing some cash into the new boobs for mommy fund.  It's serious stuff.

     So the plan is to nurse her when I can, and supplement with formula whenever I want some freedom, ex. all day shopping spree, movie night with the girls, or consuming way too much wine for the goodness of my pearly whites.

     I tried C on Enfamil A+ today and holy crap, the kid can chug faster than her Momma at our annual Girl's Weekend.  It's like a milkshake for her and she loved it.  She didn't get gassy or crampy, and I could tell she was satisfied.  Success! ...and you better believe I had me some celebratory Kraken.

xo, Kiara

   

   

Labour Scare & Awesome Surprise!

     The last 24 hours have been a big insane jumble of emotions for us.  At around 3pm on Thursday I started having contractions, which I thought were just some pretty intense Braxton Hicks contractions at first.  We decided I should go in and get checked out around 5 o'clock when they got a little worse.  They admitted me right away and hooked me up and checked me and saw that I was dilated to 1cm.  Which wasn't a big deal at this point as long as I didn't progress and further.  They decided to monitor me for another 4 hours to see if I dilated any more.  In the mean time I continued to have pretty strong contractions every minute, lasting about a minute long.  I was in the first stages of real labour.  Real contractions are nothing at all like the Braxton Hicks that I've been feeling for a month now.  My belly was rock hard and distorted and the pain radiated into my hips and back.  

     After an ultrasound, some bloodwork and a steroid shot to strengthen baby girls lungs in case she was born that night, they checked me again and I was dilated about .5cm further.  This is when I started to panic and they told me they would be keeping me over night.  I was an emotional wreck and all I could think about was how she wasn't ready yet, we weren't ready yet.  I just couldn't get the thought of our sweet baby girl coming out at 4lbs.  Which is what they guessed she would weigh at 32 weeks.  The doctors did everything to make sure that wouldn't happen.  They gave me medicinal patches to lower my blood pressure, stop the contractions, and hopefully prevent active labour.  I was admitted over night and sent Dad home to get some stuff for us and prepare for whatever was going to happen.  At this point we didn't even have diapers or a blanket for her... we expected to have another 8 weeks to prepare for this night.  

     Over the next 6 hours I had contractions that were definitely getting worse, and a million thoughts rushing through my head.  Eventually exhausted, with Dad trying to get some rest in a really uncomfortable looking recliner beside me, my contractions lessened and I fell asleep for an hour or so.  When I woke up my contractions had stopped and they unhooked me from the monitors so I could get some rest.  After a couple hours of light sleep the nurses came in to remove one patch at a time and see if I was going to start having contractions again.  This was our moment of truth. 

     They sent me for another ultrasound to make sure I hadn't dilated any further and to check on our baby girl.  This was what felt like the best morning of my life so far.  I hadn't dilated any further and we were told that our little one wasn't as little as we had worried about.  She is about 5lbs now, with a full head of fluffy looking hair, my nose AND...best of all...she's in the perfect position with her head down, but not too low.  They decided she was happy and content with sticking around for at least a little longer.  I sobbed and laughed and felt big time relieved.

And...they gave me food... :):)

     Later that afternoon, I got a second steroid shot for her lungs just in case she decided to try to come early again, and we were sent home for some much needed rest.

     What a crazy, eye-opening experience.  I guess I never realized how quickly things can change and how just because you picture in your head how things are going to happen, doesn't mean they will always work out that way.  We are just so lucky and grateful that Baby Girl is going to have a little longer inside to fatten up. ...I guess I really wasn't ready to let her go yet.

     We're also extremely lucky to have such supportive people in our lives.  Without you guys and your positive thoughts, I would be an even bigger wreck than I already am sometimes.  I'm so grateful for every one of you.  Most importantly, I've watched a boy turn into a brilliantly supportive and understanding man over the last year.  You've completely blown any expectations that I thought I'd had of the father of my babies out of the water.  I can't thank you enough for giving me the life I've always dreamed of.  <3

On a happier note... 

     When we got home from the hospital there was a package waiting for us outside our door.  It was a gift from my Aunt & Uncle.  She must have known that I'd need a little uplifting that night because when I opened the package, I started sobbing at all the cute outfits she had gotten Baby Girl...things that she wouldn't even have come close to fitting in if she had been born the night before.  These are the CUTEST onesies I have ever seen and totally my style....can't wait to put a chubby baby into them!  

LOVE EVERY BIT OF IT! ...elephants are my favourite!

adorable...

love the ruffles on her bum! ...  and JEANS!

so sweet...