Holding my baby a little extra long tonight. He's had a hard time napping today and so he was a little whiny and clingy. Well, not really clingy, because he's really not that kind of baby, but wanting me to be in close proximity and not out of sight. He got a little better near bedtime and after his last meal.  We listened to music while he sat on my bed and I folded his clothes. He enjoys that. He likes it even more when I sing along to the music. He even tries to chime in. After that, we started his nighttime routine, which I don't always do.  Changed him into his pjs, then rocked him in the rocking chair while singing, "Angel Lullaby," all three verses of, "I Am a Child of God," and then turned on the sleep time playlist on my phone which consists of, "Breath of Heaven," "Gravity," Il Divo's version of ,"Hallelujah,"Whisper of a Thrill," and "Watch You Grow," among others.  For some reason I feel like rocking and holding him extra long tonight, even though he's been asleep for awhile now.  He is such a happy boy. I feel so privileged to be his mom. He is such a special spirit.
Maybe one reason I feel like holding him longer today is because I'm thinking of some of my friends. One couple lost their sweet baby girl two years ago. It seems that she only lived about 12 hours.  I think of how I didn't really expect my pregnancy to last and how at the beginning after my baby was born, I would check on him almost constantly, especially at night, half expecting the worst. I've gotten better, but still check quite a bit. I am a little paranoid, but it reminds me that ever day, every moment with this sweet child is a gift. I hope that I get to continue watching him grow into a good man. It helps to know that no matter what happens, I will always be his mother. That's an amazing thing to me. There's a commercial on tv that is pretty cheesy, but touches me everytime because of the last line. It's a little girl kinda talking to her mother.  It's something along the lines of, " The moment I became yours, you became mine."
Ok, enough sentimentality for now. 

My baby is almost 7 months old. When did that happen?  In church today, there was a baby that was just a couple weeks old and she was so sweet and tiny. I started sobbing right there realizing how much my baby has grown up. Yup. It looks like I'm going to be one of those emotional moms who cries everytime my baby hits a milestone like going off to school.  My little sweet man has such a cute personality. I've loved getting to know him. He's such a happy boy and so social. I love it when he smiles at everyone around him, even if they're not looking. I am blessed to be his mom.

Something I didn't know I'd have a problem with....

One of the biggest challenges

Probably the hardest thing

The hardest and biggest challenge that I've had to face is breastfeeding.  I didn't know I'd have a problem.  It's supposed to be a natural thing.  I thought I was prepared.  

I couldn't have been more wrong.

It doesn't surprise me that some moms go on medication for depression after having a baby.  It surprises me that all moms aren't on it.  I'm a little surprised that I didn't.  I think I probably could have.  If the doctor, my husband, or even my mom saw me all the time, I think they would have insisted I get help.  Looking at me from the outside, I probably would have insisted on it too.  I'm glad I didn't.  I'm glad I made it though that part.  No one prepared me for the possibility that I wouldn't be able to feed my own baby.  That I would go through heart wrenching sobbing hours because I wasn't enough.  I couldn't be enough for my baby.  It brought back all the insecurities that I ever had before in my life about my ability to be a mom.  It brought back cutting words from an old boyfriend telling me that if I couldn't be happy at my job and  how would I be able to be a mother.  What if I had done things a little differently.  Honestly, even with all that I know now that I could have done in those first two weeks for my supply, it may not have been enough.  I may just be one of the few with an actual low supply.  I've come a long way in accepting things within the past month.  I'm not beating myself up as much.  But Thursday, it hit me yet again.  I know Rob doesn't get why it affects me so much.  I know he's tired of hearing about and seeing how it hurts me.  I don't blame him for not understanding.  But Thursday, it was stabbing at me again.   Baby had started screaming and refusing when I'd try to nurse.  The pump was getting less than 1/2 oz total, even after pumping for an hour.  I was taking Fenugreek and Blessed Thistle.  Eating Oatmeal every morning.  Drinking a mexican cornstarch drink that's supposed to help.  Power pumping. Etc.  And then Heavenly Father let me know that He's aware of me.  I was sobbing and looking up online about if there was even a chance of being able to increase supply at 3 months. And then, out of the blue, the Lactation Consultant from the hospital called to see how it was going. I hadn't heard from them since February.  I couldn't speak.  All I could do was cry.  She asked if I wanted to come in and I said yes.  Friday I went in and we talked about everything.  We talked about my low supply from the beginning, how I had to supplement.  (I resisted supplementing at first, convinced that I would produce enough for him and all I needed to do was nurse more.  After I left the hospital and went to his first few appointments and he hadn't gained weight, I gave in).  We talked about having a c-section and how I didn't nurse right away because I was afraid to kick everyone out of the room.  We talked about all the things that I didn't know being a new mom and what was available to me.  We talked about the different tricks (I'd tried most of them), and about how having surgery on my wrist just six weeks after he was born had an impact on trying to breastfeed because I couldn't use my hand very well and position him right.  We talked about PCOS and how that may have something to do with my low supply, or may not.  We talked about how hard I had been trying to get him at least a little breastmilk every day, and how much time it took and how exhausting it was.  We talked about how at this point, there wasn't much left to do and that there wasn't anything that would make my supply be enough.  We talked about everything.  But mostly, we talked about what we could do next time.  She took notes so that they will know to be more vigilant with me next time.  Things that we would need to start doing in the hospital before going home.  She gave me her home number so that next time I can call her and let her know that I'd be coming in again and she could work with me personally.  One of the things that I needed to know was that no matter what I do at this point, my supply wasn't going to increase.  It takes some pressure off of me.  I still will mourn.  But hopefully I'll be able to move forward and know that I tried.  I tried harder than most do, or have to.  There's an article that the Lactation Specialist found about PCOS and breastfeeding and it describes things and my feelings too. http://www.lalecheleague.org/llleaderweb/lv/lvaprmay05p27.html

I know this is somewhat jumbled.  That's how my head is.

I just wish people could look at me and automatically know that I wanted to breastfeed.  That I tried.  That it wasn't that I just didn't try hard enough.  I wish they could see the heartache I've had over it.  The hopelessness, uselessness, and despair that I've felt.  That it is something that I'm truly mourning about.  

I wish that I could pack up and put away my pumps, the breast pads that I never had to use, the nursing bras, the nipple shields, the breastmilk bottles and bags, the heat compresses, the herbal supplements, the Maizena, and everything else related to breastfeeding and just move forward.  But I have a feeling, that until I'm certain that I can't get a single drop (literally), or it gets to six months or a year, I'm going to keep trying to give him what I can. And as long as that's happening, I think I'll have emotional relapses because I won't be able to really move on yet.  Poor husband.  I may pack up the things that I'm doing to try to increase my supply though and see what I just get naturally. 

Apparently I needed to get this out of me.

 

Moments

These are the moments I want to remember. Sitting here at 4 am, holding my sweet baby after feeding him.  A rare feeding where he didn't spit/throw up. Watching him as he nuzzles and tries to find a comfortable position before drifting back to sleep. Seeing his sweet, sleepy/gassy grin. Listening to the clock tick, and just feeling the peace of the moment. Yes, sometimes I miss sleeping like Rob does, but these are moments that he doesn't get.

What?

So, apparently I'm having a baby today. I'm kinda terrified. More to come later because I should probably get some rest.