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Falling into place

No more issues with pumping! I seem to be a pro now. One major difference is that I pump both sides now instead of just one. This helped to increase my supply. The other one is that I gave up on putting Sutton into the co-sleeper. Turns out that sleeping with him by my side actually increases my milk supply. A good friend helped me talk through my sleeping arrangement and helped me to realize - why change a good thing? Sutton is almost 4 months old which is one of the worst times to start a new sleeping regimen. It's the time of a marked sleep regression and the new super fun thing Sutton is doing called TEETHING. I feel as though it's necessary to write that in all caps because are you a Mom? Have you experienced TEETHING? No? I automatically hate you.

Jesus loves me, this I know. Not because of the bible, because of Hylands. According to an email from my husband (who is currently a stay at home Dad/business owner of a landscaping company that plows in the winter... you know... when there's actually snow) Sutton woke up screaming from his nap, Mike gave him 2 tablets and he passed right out. It's like chloroform for TEETHING, except it's all natural and I won't go to jail for using it on my kid. Win-win!!!

Also, I'm considering collecting all of Sutton's drool and sending it to Haiti. I'm pretty sure he could hydrate at least 1/2 of the population. Ponder that my friends.

Well that was short lived.

3 ounces. Twice. WTF? I purchased some Mother's Milk organic tea during lunch and we'll see what that does. It's sitting next to me steeping and taunting me. I hate fennel with a fiery passion (but I like black licorice jelly beans) and that's pretty much the main ingredient in this milk inducing concotion of digustingness. It says it's a "pleasantly aromatic balance of sweet, spicy and slightly bitter." I call that a crock of shit. The first ingredient is bitter fennel fruit. You can add the word fruit to the end of it, it still doesn't sound tasty. Would you like to drink some delicious feces fruit? No!? BUT IT SAYS FRUIT ON THE LABEL!!!

Sutton's cold is back. His tiny baby cough is sad and hilarious at the same time. I swear I'm not a wretched mother, you have to hear this cough for yourself. Imagine a 75 year old man who has smoked since he was 1 year old and that's what Sutton's cough sounds like. He'll start with the sweet, sad baby cough and end it with something like "huuuaaaaaaaaaaah!" Oh my God, I just realized, my baby sounds like Al Pacino. I do love Scent of a Woman.

"And that my friends is called integrity. That's called courage. Now that's the stuff leaders should be made of."

Where was I again? Oh right, Sutton is sick. This means nobody in the house is sleeping because we're all sick. I went to bed at 9pm last night and at around 11am I wasn't entirely convinced that I was actually at work rather than in bed dreaming that I was at work. What's the difference, really? Both require about the same level of participation and intelligence at this point. Actually, I think staying asleep may just be more difficult than my job. It's a sad state of affairs my friends and on that note I'm going to end this post because I'm 99% sure I'm not making any sense and 100% sure that if I continue it will go downhill from here.

"Uh oh, we got a moron here is that it?"

-Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade

V-I-C-T-O-R-Y VICTORY VICTORY THAT'S OUR CRY!

5 ounces my friends. Let me repeat, FIVE OUNCES! I couldn't believe my eyes when I looked down at the bottle at the end of my pumping session this morning. This was much needed after this morning. As I left for work I heated up Sutton's first bottle. When I handed the 3.5 oz bottle to my husband he said "why so little?" but what I heard was "good morning, could you please punch me in the face?" I counted to ten and said "because that's what I pumped."

I don't know what was different this morning. I used my time in the mother's room to simultaneously pump and write in Sutton's journal, something I try to do each month on the 20th (the day he was born). So essentially I spent the entire time thinking of the little guy and his milestones. His laughs, the way he wiggles around when he's happy, his little legs kicking as if to say "I know I can run, just GIVE ME A CHANCE WOMAN!", the way he sucks on his fingers, the tiny baby gurgles... sigh.. I miss him.

Whatever it was I hope it keeps happening. I've been driving myself crazy googling the amounts that a 3 month old should be consuming and every site says something different. I've decided to stop googling it and just feed Sutton whatever my body produces. Websites and books are a good guide, and I've learned to treat them as nothing more than suggestions. There's no book more powerful than a mother's intuition.

The latest issue in our house is sleeping. Not just getting sleep but sleeping arrangements. When Sutton was born I couldn't imagine putting him in a different room. He had just spent 9 months in my body, I needed him close and I believe he needed me close as well. Initially he slept in his arm's reach co-sleeper, but woke with gas pains consistently throughout the night. After many sleepless nights I discovered that if I laid him down facing me with his head on my arm he slept 5+ hours. It's a love/hate relationship, this whole sleep thing - because I love snuggling with him. I know that his brain is growing leaps and bounds during all of this close cuddling but the part that's not so fun is laying in one position for 5+ hours. So it's back to the co-sleeper we go.

I start the night by putting Sutton down in the sleeper. Usually he jerks himself awake a few times but eventually falls into a deep sleep. So far he seems to wake at varying times deciding that he wants to cuddle. Last night it was 11pm when he wanted his cuddle, but Saturday it was 5am. I worry all the time that I'm sending him mixed signals about sleeping or that I'm setting us all up for disaster when it comes time to put him in a crib but you know what? It feels right. He's 3 months old, he can't be spoiled. I know in 10 years I'll think back about when he was tiny and fit so perfectly by my side, snuggled up with his little hands folded under his chin... so I'm just going to go ahead and enjoy this, back pain and all.

Back to work...

Today marks one week since I've been back to work. The moms here tell me that leaving my son will get easier but I can't imagine that it will. This morning I kissed his chubby cheeks a million times, said goodbye and cried the entire drive here. I'm fortunate enough to not have to put my son in daycare - something I just can't wrap my head around - but even leaving him with his father hurts.

I've gained some serious respect for working moms. I come into work every day toting my medela pump in style and 3 empty bottles. I have my time scheduled in the mother's room, 9am, 12pm, and 3pm. Each day during those times I make the trek upstairs to milk myself. You laugh, but that's exactly how it feels. Actually, let me talk about how it feels.

When I gave birth to Sutton I didn't realize the struggle that was ahead of me. I'm not talking about waking up in the middle of the night or learning cues or dealing with a fussy baby - I'm talking about breastfeeding. I'm a redhead, which means I have extremely sensitive skin. At the end of a day full of cluster feeding I'd be blistered and bleeding, covered in lansinoh and dreading covering up my breasts. If a trickle of water from the shower hit my nipples I jumped. The female body, namely the one of a mother, is fascinating. Within weeks I developed nipples of steel and the ability to feed for as long as Sutton needed without any problem. No more bleeding, cracked nipples - I was a pro! Things really fell into place for me at home. I got the hang of this whole motherhood thing and with each week that passed I felt better about my abilities to care for Sutton. I even had him on a schedule... just in time to return to work.

Returning to work is something that I never really hear new moms talk much about. I wonder if this is because they fear being judged by their stay-at-home counterparts. I wonder this because that's exactly how I felt. For me, working isn't something that I can give up 100%. My time at home with Sutton was precious, and being a mother is the greatest thing I have ever done but I need more. Working makes me a better mother. Maybe not working this particular job, at this particular company - but I need to work. I don't understand going through 16+ years of school, spending copious amounts of money and energy all heading for a career just to leave it behind. That's my judgey mom self. We come in all shapes and forms, don't we? I do wish, though, that I could work mother's hours.. that would be ideal. We won't get too far into my job here though, I don't need to pull a Dooce :).

So here I sit in my cubicle with pictures of my son plastering the walls. I think about him constantly, especially during my least favorite activity; pumping. I'm fortunate enough to have a mother's room to use here albeit it one with the sketchiest man EVER sitting in the office adjacent. I feel a dear creepy coworker coming on...

Dear Creepy Coworker,

I know you probably didn't choose to sit outside of the mother's room and I'm sure you don't love the woosh-woosh-woosh sound of my pump every three hours, but I'd kindly like to ask that you not stare at me every. time. I leave the room. You're scary, and not very nice either. Just when I thought you couldn't get any creepier you decided to don an Elmer Fudd style hat, complete with ear flaps and wear it all day. Why would you do this? Are you trying to scare the breast milk out of me? Because it's working.

Signed,

Too freaked out to pump

Okay back to my story. I have zero issues feeding Sutton at home. He happily chows down complete with milk spilling out of the corners of his cute little mouth. When I pump I get crap. By crap I mean nothing. By nothing I mean 3 ounces. My son is a pig, there is no way 3 ounces is sufficient. So this is good right? Crying all day because I miss my son.... creepy coworker..... pumping.... no milk. No sir, this is bad. I'm currently trying oatmeal to increase my supply as well as continuing to pump for 5-10 minutes after the milk has stopped flowing. Remember that part about my nipples of steel? Well apparently when milked to the point of exhaustion they're not so steely. In fact they're bleeding again. I went up for my 12pm milking (moo!) and attached the lovely suction cup to my right side and leaped out of my seat in pain (I'm pretty sure creepy guy was wondering WTF was happening in that pesky mother's room). I have a nice bleeding blister on my right side from pumping. I thought I was over this BS! I reminded myself that I was giving my son the most precious, important gift I could and worked through the pain. I can't really feel my right breast anymore, but I'm going to go ahead and say that's a good thing.

So now that you're completely familiar with me and my nipples, hi! I'm Danielle. I plan to use this blog as a place to talk about the trials and tribulations of being a working mom. Thanks for reading.