Nod, Nod, Wink, Wink

As I mentioned in my previous post, Ben was all about trying to nurse at the fireworks show. I dressed for the occassion (as I always do) and was very discreet (as I always am) whenever I did nurse him. Unfortunately, as is the luck with Eric & I at public get-togethers, we ended up seated next to one of the loudest and most annoying families in the entire park.

They descended upon us after we’d already chosen our perfect spot in the grass. The kids were wrestling, popping those confetti bottles with no regard for the baby (my luck at parks sucks) and one of the dads kept yelling, “I LOVE AERIAL BOMBS! WAIT TILL WE SEE THE AERIAL BOMBS! MY FRIEND BROKE HIS FOOT SO HE AIN’T BEEN HUNTING…FOR AERIAL BOMBS! I’M GONNA DRINK BEER WHEN I WATCH THE AERIAL BOMBS! AERIAL BOMBS! AERIAL BOMBS! AERIAL BOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMBS!” Then proceeded to run in a circle screaming, “BOOM BOOM BOOM” and peeing on the lesser men in the audience.*

So, at one point, I’m nursing Ben and I look up just in time to catch the aerial bomb dad trying to catch the eye of the other dad by wiggling his beer at him. He then proceeds to smile knowingly, wink and nod in my direction. He caught me glaring at him just then and averted his eyes immediately. I shot the same look at the other dad just in time to catch him turning his head to look at me. Yet another eye aversion.

What the hell is up with that? Seriously. If you’re giving me the “hey, something dirty’s going on over there” look, then why not oogle? Is it because I look like the kind of girl who’d kick your ass? Or because you know you’re a raging idiot for trying to sexualize just knowing my baby’s nursing? Because, Lord knows, you couldn’t see any skin. I had clothing surrounding every possible side. Or maybe it was because I said, very loudly, “Oh yeah, because me feeding my son is totally more annoying than your kid screaming at the top of his lungs.”

*Actions mentioned in this sentence may or may not have happened.

It Just Smells Bad…

Until my recent tooth removal, I hadn’t built up any sort of stored breastmilk supply. Not only because my supply was already a drizzle and it was just depressing watching the drips end at 1 ounce on each side, making me want to cry and scream to the Gods, “WHY ME, GODS?! Is it because of my blasphemous use of Gods over God because it’s just for effect! JUST FOR EFFECT!”, but because I wasn’t ever planning on being away from my son for longer than, you know, 10 seconds.

Thanks to the 8 whole hours I was out of it with the removal, I pumped 2 whole bags and one whole bottle of breastmilk for the freezer. We recently popped one out for Eric to use when I was at my 5 hour staff meeting early last month. When I called (which I managed to avoid for nearly 3 whole hours despite the continual let-downs because I couldn’t stop talking or thinking about him), Eric said he wouldn’t take it but he did finish nearly an entire avocado. He was hungry but didn’t want the milk. I did not freak. I did let-down…again.

When I got home, I inspected the milk and, AHA, it smelled soapy! I remembered the many stories of over-enthusiastic lipase making good, frozen milk smell like a bottle of liquid Dawn. “I know what this is! It’s too much lipase! It just smells bad, it’s okay to drink.”

Here is where I take a sip. Now, some people may think it’s gross or strange to taste one’s own breastmilk. I ask you people this, what’s stranger, drinking a bodily fluid from a source with which you are quite familiar, or drinking a bodily fluid from some random animal that could be out whoring around with HIV BIV positive bulls or doing intravenous bovine herione on her off days? Yeah, whatchu gotta say ’bout that?! Besides, it doesn’t taste bad.

Anyway, I sipped.

And I gagged. My Lord, did I gag. I also may have vomited a little in my mouth. Anyone who says soapy-smelling breastmilk is “just stronger” is insane. Not only did it smell like a bottle of Dawn but it tasted like a bottle of Dawn mixed with the essence of chicken bottom. It was that bad.

Needless to say, we’ll be stocking up on avocados come my all day meeting at the end of the month because there is no way Ben’s ever going to get chicken ass and dish soap in a bottle again. Until, of course, he hits that toddler “Mama, I won’t eat anything but chicken butt and Dawn…or tomato and pea salad” phase. And no child of mine is going to eat tomato and pea salad. No, sir. Not in this house.

Stewie Kicks the Boob

Busy Bee

It’s been a busy week thus far. I have loads to say but it’s time for Ben and I to head to bed. I had to post thism though. So cute.

All Boobs All the Time

I’ve spent quite a bit of my time in the past couple of weeks reading about breastfeeding, taking my basic courses so I can start taking Lactation Education courses and doing training for the Peer Counselor job. All I seem to do is read about, write about, and talk about boobs. While it doesn’t bother me, I have a feeling my family’s getting a little tired of hearing about breastfeeding all the time.

I haven’t yet figured out how to properly interact with my mom in regards to the breastfeeding thing. I don’t want her to feel as if I’m denigrating her choice to formula feed me. I 100% believe she made the best choice for our family at that moment in time. At the same time, I want to tell her everything I’m learning. Call me a raging boob-dork but it’s exciting to learn so much and I like to share. It’s just really hard to tell my mom things like, “Hey! You know that a new study shows breastfed babies have a higher IQ, less illness and four trillion other positives? Hey, you didn’t breastfeed me, right?” How the heck does one walk that line?

Just for giggles, the Landover Baptist Church has found that breastfeeding is a gateway sin. Damn those demonic impulses triggered by sucking!

ETA: LOB is a great religious satire site.

It’s All About Support

For a few weeks, I’ve been looking into what it would take to become a lactation consultant. After all the challenges Ben and I encountered during breastfeeding and the help we received from the amazing LCs we came in contact with in the process, I really couldn’t think of anything I’d want to do more than to help people with one of the hardest things I had come across in becoming a first time mom.

Unfortunately, after researching the number of classes you have to take and the cost, I realized we just aren’t in a place right now for me to follow that path. I have neither the time nor willingness to be away from Ben that long and God knows we don’t have the money. So I began searching other options.

I came across the info for WIC Breastfeeding Peer Counselor almost by mistake. It’s a relatively new program and it just had it’s funding cut. After searching out as much info on it as I could, I squeeled at Eric about what a perfect job it would be for me.

After some digging, I found the number for the woman who runs the breastfeeding PC program in Colorado, who then lead me to the two counties that they have the counseling programs in, both counties were definitely NOT the counties I am in. As it turned out, both the women who ran their county programs were on vacation. I left messages and emailed.

(Wow, I’m really long winded. I apologize…but won’t be stopping anytime soon. I like detailed records, people. DETAILED!)

One called me back in about a week’s time to tell me she wasn’t hiring and didn’t think the other woman was either. She’d send me out an app and keep it on hand. I was bummed, but, heck, keeping an application on file is always a good start!

The woman from the other county turned out to not be the woman who ran the program. She forwarded my email onto the woman who did run the program…who was on vacation. How unlucky can I be?

A week or so later, I heard back from her. They were hiring. I nearly wet my pants. I also filled out my application and called the next morning for my interview, which went amazingly well. They said they’d get back to me by the following week (this week). I realized after leaving that I never asked the pay because honestly? I don’t care. This is a dream job for me. Pay me in kisses, I don’t care.

So this entire week I’ve been telling Eric, “I’m so bummed I didn’t get the job” because I am a pessimist. I don’t like getting my hopes up for something I’m not sure of. Which is the exact reason I haven’t posted a thing about it here. He kept saying, “There’s no way you didn’t get that job unless there was some sort of nepotism involved. And you don’t want to work for nepotists, do you?” He’s lovely. It hasn’t helped that I’ve had a bit of strep and no voice for the past few days so I’ve felt sorry for myself on top of it all.

About 3 hours ago, I got a call. I got the job.

I GOT THE JOB!

The moment I got off the phone, I screeched, “YAY!” at the top of my sick lungs and my once recovering voice disappeared once again. But who cares? I GOT THE JOB!!

What’s With the Hand Squeezing Thing?

Just when I thought signing was a worthless endeavour.

Ben was just in my dad’s lap, squeeling at me. Dad says, “MAAAH, MAAAH! COME GET ME!” and does the sign for milk.
“Why are you doing that? Did Ben do that?”
“Yeah, he’s yelling at you and doing that. *Dad does it again* What’s with the hand squeezing thing, Ben?”
“THAT’S THE SIGN FOR MILK!”

He wanted to nurse and he wanted a nap.

Too
flippin
cool

The Zoo - Part 2

Well, now that it’s been almost a month…

He had a wonderful time. He spent most of it sleeping. The one time he was fully awake, the tiger tried to eat him. I suppose there’s a reason he’s not a fan of large felines.

The following day we went to the Museum of Nature and Science. He loved looking into the recontructed face of the mummy. Everything else he could have cared less about. It was nice to walk around, though.

The coolest thing (I hate to make this blog all about boobs but…) was that I nursed exclusively at both places. The zoo was entirely more comfortable. There were the unofficial “Nursing and Changing Bleachers” in front of the primate exhibit. I suppose we all figured with the gorillas flinging poo across from us, our boobs wouldn’t be that big of a deal. So, at any given time, there were 2-5 of us sitting in front of the primates breastfeeding. Ocassionally, a non-breastfeeding group would sit down prior to glancing around. Upon realizing this was the breast bench, they would either giggle or look horrified, but never get up and leave immediately. I found it quite impressive how one set of two women managed to giggle each time they looked up and saw us all, then return to staring at their feet, but didn’t leave for about 20 minutes.

The museum was a whole other story. The two times I nursed him, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. Once, I sat in the corner with a blanket over his head. That lasted about 3 minutes before he started pulling it off and crying. The second time, I sat in a booth in the back but no longer in the corner. I got steel eyes from 2 old ladies sitting across from us. This time the blanket was put back on everytime he’d yank it off. It’s funny how uncomfortable people can make you feel just by looking at you.

We did see a friend of ours who just had a baby in September. Unassisted home birth. I am in awe of her. She had her 1 month old, 3 year old and 2 year old with her. Her 2 year old has albinism and is partially blind, but you wouldn’t know it by the way he’d take off from her, giggling his head off like a crazy man. She’d been there for 7 hours and only then had her children begun to get a little restless. Again, I was in awe. I honestly don’t get why mothers aren’t placed on velvet couches, fed hand-peeled grapes and fanned all day long. It’s really the least the world can do.

Were the World Sane

Were the world sane all the people I’ve met with over the past two days would be a realistic snapshot of how the entire population would view breastfeeding. Every single one was excited that I’ve been trying my hardest to breastfeed. Not one of them minded me whipping out a boob (discreetly) in their office or in the cafeteria. The only semi-negative comment I got was regarding how long I would like to breastfeed.
“Three years? That’s a looooong time…Well, it’s a long way away. We’ll talk abut it when we get closer to it…”

But even that was countered by an amazing woman who said, “I breastfed my son until he was 2 and a half. He weaned himself.”

If only everyone was that positive about breastfeeding, I wouldn’t need to spend 30 minutes at the back of a parking lot feeding my son before we go in anywhere.

We found out today that Ben’s 23.25 inches long and 10lbs 6oz - This means he’s in the 6th percentile for weight and 25th percentile for height. I was told, “He’s just tall and skinny like his dad.” Of course, I’m still worried but I’m trying not to be.

I also tried Lactaid for the first time (Yummeh!!!) and am really hoping Ben doesn’t get gas from it so I can start eating cereal again. If he’s lactose intolerant, he should be fine. However, if has a dairy allergy, it’ll probably still send raucous gas shooting out of his butt.

On that note, one or two of my entries may be password protected soon. I’d like to talk about things that are very personal and somewhat controversial, but am afraid it may cause some unneeded problems. It’s ridiculous that I’m even questioning being completely straightforward, but I’d rather avoid any negativity. These things are hard enough for me to discuss without the stress of worrying about how it makes others feel about me. Should they become protected, you’ll only need email me for the password.

Yeastie Boy & His Mama

I made the mistake of letting Ben wear Huggies for one full day. We were fluttering between cloth and Pampers most of the time but he was this close to growing out of the Huggies, so I figured we’d use them up. By the end of the day, the poor child had the reddest bottom I’d ever seen. It was my own fault. I saw it after the first couple of changes but just lathered on the diaper rash cream and figured it was, as usual, just a side effect of the disposibles - they tend to turn him a little red whenever I use them.

The next day he was back in cloth and he still continued getting redder. I kept lathering on the cream but it was only getting worse. By the end of that week, it had spread from his bottom to his crotch to his belly to his thighs. He had his 2 month appointment with the pediatrician that Friday so we waited until then, hoping it’d go away on it’s own. We were doing everything right, letting him dry after wiping him, slathering him in diaper cream, making sure he was changed immediately. It should have gone away.

So at his appointment, the doctor took one look and said, “That’s a yeast infection.” There’s no real reason other than that he had a diaper rash and the yeast in his poo decided to take up residence in it. The excess of yeast in his poo could have come from us feeding him the formula he wasn’t tolerating so it threw off his entire gatro-intestinal tract.

We started him in on Nystatin. 5 days later, it had disappeared from his bottom but was slowly moving up his belly, up his back and down his legs, past his knees. By this time I’d started getting a raging case of thrush only on my left side. This single side thing was incredibly strange but even stranger was that I had this raging case of thrush and he didn’t. We took him back to his pediatrician and she said it was probably he and I passing it back and forth. I was to get on diflucan, she refilled his Nystatin because we were almost out from slathering it all over his body. My midwife put me on 2 doses of diflucan (normally a single dose thing, but since we kept transferring it back and forth she decided to double dose me).

It’s been almost another 2 weeks and his is barely disappearing. Mine is a raging mess. The ped told us to try Monistat on him before we try anything oral, and God knows what I’m supposed to do. I still itch like mad, it’s horribly painful to nurse and I’m actually beginnging to get scabs all over. It’s really annoying. I’m hoping that once his is cleared up, mine will be, too.

Just in case, though, I’ll be calling my midwife on Monday to see what she suggests for me and his pediatrician to see what she suggests for him. I love our ped. “I’d rather try topical treatments before we mess with his system.” I love that. I really hope it doesn’t come down to him needing anything oral but a month with yeast? Poor kid. I’m sure he’d be thankful for anything that’d make it go away.