How many times have we heard the phrase "Patience is a Virtue"? When my first daughter was born, patience was certainly not a virtue I had. Not even remotely. This led to some pretty massive failures in my attempts to breastfeed. She was having trouble latching so she was hungry all the time and spent a lot of her first few weeks working on the most pitiful, heart-breaking mewl of a cry that would drive me to tears. I recall one night in those early weeks when I just couldn't get her to latch (yes, I know I should have called a lactation consultant!), that I sat in my rocking chair and lost it. She was crying, I was crying, it was chaos. The only person not crying was my husband. He gently picked her up out of my arms and rocked her until she was calm, burped her, and handed her back. After that desperate night, my husband went out and bought me a little hand pump so we could try to bottle feed her. To this day I've never figured out how to use it quickly and effectively, which led to more frustrated tears, and then finally a trip to the store for some formula. I recall when we finally got her on solids, how easily I would lose my cool when she'd throw her dishes and her food on the floor. Another case of tears over what is really not that big of a deal. Babies throwing stuff is just what babies do. It's kind of their gig. I just couldn't handle the waste, the mess, and the fact that she wasn't eating when I thought she would DIE of malnutrition if she didn't eat EVERY bite of her oatmeal. When I look back I can laugh at myself for being so dramatic.
The more kids we had, the less I had these problems. Breastfeeding stayed hard. It was only with our 4th child that I managed to make it past the 4 month mark. As for the feeding, we switched out to Baby Led Weaning, which made life way easier anyway. I found tricks to avoid the stress that would send me over the edge. It also helps that I don't have 4 tiny babies. Just one baby at a time makes it all easier. My big kids still try my patience. A LOT. But I give in way less than I did with one, or even two. I still find my eye twitching every once in a while when I come in and see the little big brother has drawn ALL OVER the walls of his ENTIRE room with crayon that WILL NOT wash off (How did he even get those crayons??? The sneaky little monkey brought them up while I wasn't looking!). I mean really. When his older sister did that I lost my mind, and she only coloured on one little corner with a crayon that washed off easily. There was yelling, tears, drama, and then a ban on crayons for at least a month. Maybe more. With little big brother I sat him down and talked it through with him. Showed him how hard it was to clean. Told him that the walls were not for colouring on. Gave him a colouring book to exercise his artistic desires. Inside, my brain was screaming, but I managed to keep my cool with him.
So I guess patience really is a virtue. Like every other virtue you don't just wake up one day feeling patient. It's something you learn with great effort, by building up a habit of self-control and gentleness. Some days I still lose my cool. My boys are amazing, loving this wonders, but there are times when the two of them are going nuts in their room at night, waking up their baby sister in the next room that I want to come in their room and let loose the dogs of war on them. If I can't resist, I do my best to send in my husband instead. If he's too overwhelmed then I go in. We need to be firm, set rules and boundaries, and dole out punishments when necessary. That doesn't mean I want to spend my life yelling myself hoarse and crying. With 4 kids filling the day with their individual wildness, that's a real possibility. I have to make a daily choice to be the Mom they need. I may use the crazy eyes once in a while to calm the scene, but I'd rather that than the crazy voice or crying.
I think most importantly for any parents with only one baby, or even a few, is that no one is a perfect parent straight out of the gate. We parents with lots of kids may seem more patient, but that's because we've had time and LOTS of practice. I get to test my patience in fire every morning when the kids wake up screaming for everything. It's a conscious choice we make in every moment to be the Mom they need, even when what we really want is to hide in the bathroom until they quiet themselves down. When you have one kid or even two, you're still learning how to be a parent, so let that be your focus. Don't worry about comparing yourself to other parents, even though it may be tempting. Even with 4 kids (and one on the way) there's always another Mom whose doing it all with more kids. I have a particular Mom I look up to, who has a few more kids than I do, is homeschooling them, making delicious healthy meals, helping out at her Church, and all of that with a smile on her face. There are days that I look at her and think how much better she's doing with all of this than I am and with more kids. Then I remember that I can make her a model of virtue without putting her on too high of a pedestal, especially when that pedestal is built at the cost of my own confidence. So, instead I try to use her example as an inspiration rather than an accusation. When I don't let myself bogged down with raising other people above myself, it's a lot easier to find the joy in all the small things in my own life.
Showing posts with label Breastfeeding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breastfeeding. Show all posts
Friday, 26 October 2012
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
Baby Girl / Big Girl
I guess it's kind of official. We have 4 big kids. I'll withhold my sobs for a more private time. In the past few weeks, baby girl has graduated from, well, my baby, to one of the big kids. While this has been influenced somewhat by our new pregnancy, I think she's made the move mostly on her own.
It started not long after her first birthday. She weaned from breastfeeding. Almost entirely cold turkey. Brutal. Her independence was written all over her face when she refused to breastfeed and reached for her cup instead. She also started picking up her fork and actually uses it to eat (sometimes). Who is this kid? She's a tiny toddler.
She also graduated into clothes that, for the most part, weren't defined by her age in months, but by the year. 1T clothes break my heart. I'm never ready for the idea that she's not tiny, but grown big enough that she'll be the same size for the bulk of the year.
The next thing that happened pleasantly surprised me: She started to walk. A few steps here and there. A shuffle from one piece of furniture to the next. Then, finally, full on walking. She still crawls once in a while, but she prefers to walk everywhere with her cute robot zombie swagger. Her older brother started walking the day she was born, so the fact that she's months ahead of when each of her siblings started walking kind of blows my mind. She has also started to dance, which is pretty adorable.
On top of all of this, she's actually started talking. Not just words, but sentences. She's been working on "I love you" for a while, partially because her siblings shout "I LOVE YOU DADDY" at the top of their lungs while we watch him go off to work everyone morning. Beyond that, she's started making simple sentences like "want up" or want down" or my favourite, "want that" which can mean anything.
The fact of the matter is that around this time in each of the other kids' lives we were mere months away from meeting the next baby. In baby/big girl's case, she's got more than half a year to keep on growing. She won't be potty trained or anything, but it'll be a world of difference for me to see how big she really is next to the new baby over 30 weeks from now. I'm so glad I'm not watching all of her milestones under the haze of late pregnancy. My belly is still very small, so I'm still able to pick her up, enjoy her, cuddle with her. So while she's not a baby anymore, she can still be my baby for a little while longer.
It started not long after her first birthday. She weaned from breastfeeding. Almost entirely cold turkey. Brutal. Her independence was written all over her face when she refused to breastfeed and reached for her cup instead. She also started picking up her fork and actually uses it to eat (sometimes). Who is this kid? She's a tiny toddler.
She also graduated into clothes that, for the most part, weren't defined by her age in months, but by the year. 1T clothes break my heart. I'm never ready for the idea that she's not tiny, but grown big enough that she'll be the same size for the bulk of the year.
The next thing that happened pleasantly surprised me: She started to walk. A few steps here and there. A shuffle from one piece of furniture to the next. Then, finally, full on walking. She still crawls once in a while, but she prefers to walk everywhere with her cute robot zombie swagger. Her older brother started walking the day she was born, so the fact that she's months ahead of when each of her siblings started walking kind of blows my mind. She has also started to dance, which is pretty adorable.
On top of all of this, she's actually started talking. Not just words, but sentences. She's been working on "I love you" for a while, partially because her siblings shout "I LOVE YOU DADDY" at the top of their lungs while we watch him go off to work everyone morning. Beyond that, she's started making simple sentences like "want up" or want down" or my favourite, "want that" which can mean anything.
The fact of the matter is that around this time in each of the other kids' lives we were mere months away from meeting the next baby. In baby/big girl's case, she's got more than half a year to keep on growing. She won't be potty trained or anything, but it'll be a world of difference for me to see how big she really is next to the new baby over 30 weeks from now. I'm so glad I'm not watching all of her milestones under the haze of late pregnancy. My belly is still very small, so I'm still able to pick her up, enjoy her, cuddle with her. So while she's not a baby anymore, she can still be my baby for a little while longer.
Monday, 24 September 2012
Pregnancy (Take 5)
I'm pregnant with our 5th baby! My heart is overflowing with joy and expectation! My husband is incredibly excited too, as usual, and joined me in informing anyone who would listen about our latest little miracle! We called, Facebooked, tweeted, and told everyone else we could in person, even whipping out my freshly peed on pregnancy test to show baby girl's Godmother when we found out as we were going out that evening.
I know at one point I thought to myself that maybe 4 was enough kids, but at some point my heart began to grow, to make room for another little soul to join our family. Once the post-natal fog lifted and life was getting back into order, it was so obvious to me that our family had room to grow. For the first time in the 6 years of our marriage, it took us about a year to conceive. Usually I was finding myself in possession of a positive pregnancy test between 6 and 9 months post-partum. That my youngest is 13 months might seem close to many people, but that is a huge gap in my mind! She's already walking (although crawls sometimes too), eats everything and anything, is incredibly social, sleeps like a champ, and has self-weaned. Her extended breastfeeding is the reason we didn't conceive sooner, and it was an incredible gift to both she and I. I had more recovery time for one. I also had more time to settle into a routine in our new house. I even managed to start getting more involved at our Church, which has meant a lot to me! I also found the energy to get myself started on homeschooling our eldest. With a June due date, we'll have the whole summer to recover before hitting the books again! For her, it meant longer bonding, better nutrition when she was under the weather, and lots of cuddles with Mommy.
So here we are, 5th positive pregnancy test in hand, excited beyond all belief and dedicated to enjoying every minute of it. One of the first things we did was upgrade our baby carrier to an Ergo because our Snugli had really worn out over the past three babies. We also picked up another pack of newborns Bummis diapers so we can exclusively cloth diaper from birth. I hit the grocery store and picked up 300 pre-natal vitamins (as I had run out and wanted closer to a year's supply) and have started to take them daily. With only very mild nausea I'm finding life is going on as normal, though I've been exhausted once naptime hits! The upside of my energy level staying basically the same is that my incredibly strong sense of smell which only happens when I'm pregnant is forcing me to start working on house work to keep the stinkies at bay.
The other big news pregnancy wise is that I got in touch with the Midwives at our local hospital. For most people who might read this outside of my province this may seem like not a big deal, but here in my province we've had to work hard to get Midwives with privileges at our hospital. They weren't available for my first three pregnancies, and they were on hiatus due to political issues during my fourth pregnancies. Today, with two full time midwives and one part-time midwife, I was able to make myself only second on their waiting list for June! Unless I risk out this basically guarantees me a spot! I have wanted to try for midwife care since I first heard of how midwives work, but this is the first time I've been able to sign up. I'll be sad that our regular baby-catching family doctor won't be our regular care provider as we have a beautiful relationship, but I'd do just about anything to have more personalised, natural birth focused care that won't have me alone with a nurse for hours on end. I find the nurses at our hospital range from incredible to absolutely awful. The nurse from my last birth would wait until my husband was out of the room and say all sorts of crazy things, like how I should stop being so noisy as it wasn't helping me labour. The upside about all of this is that's there actually a pretty good chance my family Doc will be in the hospital when I deliver as she is works in the Peri-Natal clinic and does regular rotations on the birth unit. I'll be praying that I get both a Midwife and my own well loved Doctor.
That's all so far. Get ready for belly pics, folks. I'm going to start taking them weekly so you can see how ridiculously fast my belly POPS!
I know at one point I thought to myself that maybe 4 was enough kids, but at some point my heart began to grow, to make room for another little soul to join our family. Once the post-natal fog lifted and life was getting back into order, it was so obvious to me that our family had room to grow. For the first time in the 6 years of our marriage, it took us about a year to conceive. Usually I was finding myself in possession of a positive pregnancy test between 6 and 9 months post-partum. That my youngest is 13 months might seem close to many people, but that is a huge gap in my mind! She's already walking (although crawls sometimes too), eats everything and anything, is incredibly social, sleeps like a champ, and has self-weaned. Her extended breastfeeding is the reason we didn't conceive sooner, and it was an incredible gift to both she and I. I had more recovery time for one. I also had more time to settle into a routine in our new house. I even managed to start getting more involved at our Church, which has meant a lot to me! I also found the energy to get myself started on homeschooling our eldest. With a June due date, we'll have the whole summer to recover before hitting the books again! For her, it meant longer bonding, better nutrition when she was under the weather, and lots of cuddles with Mommy.
So here we are, 5th positive pregnancy test in hand, excited beyond all belief and dedicated to enjoying every minute of it. One of the first things we did was upgrade our baby carrier to an Ergo because our Snugli had really worn out over the past three babies. We also picked up another pack of newborns Bummis diapers so we can exclusively cloth diaper from birth. I hit the grocery store and picked up 300 pre-natal vitamins (as I had run out and wanted closer to a year's supply) and have started to take them daily. With only very mild nausea I'm finding life is going on as normal, though I've been exhausted once naptime hits! The upside of my energy level staying basically the same is that my incredibly strong sense of smell which only happens when I'm pregnant is forcing me to start working on house work to keep the stinkies at bay.
The other big news pregnancy wise is that I got in touch with the Midwives at our local hospital. For most people who might read this outside of my province this may seem like not a big deal, but here in my province we've had to work hard to get Midwives with privileges at our hospital. They weren't available for my first three pregnancies, and they were on hiatus due to political issues during my fourth pregnancies. Today, with two full time midwives and one part-time midwife, I was able to make myself only second on their waiting list for June! Unless I risk out this basically guarantees me a spot! I have wanted to try for midwife care since I first heard of how midwives work, but this is the first time I've been able to sign up. I'll be sad that our regular baby-catching family doctor won't be our regular care provider as we have a beautiful relationship, but I'd do just about anything to have more personalised, natural birth focused care that won't have me alone with a nurse for hours on end. I find the nurses at our hospital range from incredible to absolutely awful. The nurse from my last birth would wait until my husband was out of the room and say all sorts of crazy things, like how I should stop being so noisy as it wasn't helping me labour. The upside about all of this is that's there actually a pretty good chance my family Doc will be in the hospital when I deliver as she is works in the Peri-Natal clinic and does regular rotations on the birth unit. I'll be praying that I get both a Midwife and my own well loved Doctor.
That's all so far. Get ready for belly pics, folks. I'm going to start taking them weekly so you can see how ridiculously fast my belly POPS!
Friday, 13 April 2012
Milestones
Baby girl is a mere week shy of 8 months old now. What a whirlwind these last few months have been. I feel like we're on the quick stumble towards a year and there's not holding her back. She's crawling now. Half the time she's dragging, the other half of the time she's moving her chubby little limbs in perfect sync. Either way she's getting around quickly, and getting into lots of mischief. I'm having to really carefully sweep the floor almost constantly as she's quite happy to put anything and everything in her mouth.
Speaking of food, she's now eating lots of solid food. As with our other kids, we're doing baby led weaning with great success. She can eat pretty much anything, although I'm doing what I can to keep her away from added sugars in cakes and sweets. The best thing about all of this is that she's still breastfeeding. I've never made it this far breastfeeding any of my three other children, and I'm so proud that I'm persevering. She still has a bottle to supplement once every day or so, but it's becoming more and more rare as she seems satisfied with her solids and the breastmilk. I only supplement when all else has failed. She's got two little teeth that are half-way out in her lower jaw, so I've had a few bites from her, but mostly when she's distracted or falling asleep. I've learned how to unclench her little jaw quick! Ouch! Even in the middle of that pain, I remember how lucky I am that I've had all the support I needed to breastfeed her. This morning as I cuddle up in bed with her for her morning feed, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of this moment. She's still so tiny, and yet so big compared to the newborn I struggled to build a breastfeeding relationship with. I held her a little closer and soaked in the sweet, trusting look in her eyes.
She still has so many milestone ahead of her, both big and small ones. I look forward to each of them but also wish I could hold her in this moment a little longer. She is such a ridiculously happy baby, and I know she'll be a (mostly) happy toddler and preschooler, but for now I'm treasuring her littleness as long as I can.
Speaking of food, she's now eating lots of solid food. As with our other kids, we're doing baby led weaning with great success. She can eat pretty much anything, although I'm doing what I can to keep her away from added sugars in cakes and sweets. The best thing about all of this is that she's still breastfeeding. I've never made it this far breastfeeding any of my three other children, and I'm so proud that I'm persevering. She still has a bottle to supplement once every day or so, but it's becoming more and more rare as she seems satisfied with her solids and the breastmilk. I only supplement when all else has failed. She's got two little teeth that are half-way out in her lower jaw, so I've had a few bites from her, but mostly when she's distracted or falling asleep. I've learned how to unclench her little jaw quick! Ouch! Even in the middle of that pain, I remember how lucky I am that I've had all the support I needed to breastfeed her. This morning as I cuddle up in bed with her for her morning feed, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of this moment. She's still so tiny, and yet so big compared to the newborn I struggled to build a breastfeeding relationship with. I held her a little closer and soaked in the sweet, trusting look in her eyes.
She still has so many milestone ahead of her, both big and small ones. I look forward to each of them but also wish I could hold her in this moment a little longer. She is such a ridiculously happy baby, and I know she'll be a (mostly) happy toddler and preschooler, but for now I'm treasuring her littleness as long as I can.
Tuesday, 24 January 2012
Finding Joy
Things here have been hectic to say the least lately. My husband is sick with some sort of unknown illness and has been in and out of doctors offices and the emergency room for weeks. All we've been able to figure out is what it's not. They've prescribed him an army of medications that all seem to be doing just this side of nothing for him. It's gotten to the point he can't work a full day most days because the pain gets so overwhelming. He's doing his best to grin and bear it, to hide the intensity of his pain but as the days wear on it's clear he's falling apart at the seams. He is truly the St. Joseph of our family, working hard and doing all he can despite his own setbacks to take care of the family God has given us. Suffice it to say this has been really stressful for both of us and the kids, who are too young to understand why Daddy can't play pony today or why his energy is so low. In all of this I'm struggling, struggling to find a voice for my prayers, patience with my children when I'm distracted by worst case scenarios, and most of all I'm struggling to find joy.
These days even a small moment of joy is enough to fuel me through the rest of an unpredictable day. I'm holding on to my little moments tightly, doing my best to remind myself over and over again how lucky I am. With four children these moments come surprisingly often (mind you they are perfectly balanced with the complete pandemonium that four crying, screaming kids can bring). Each child has their own unique way of reminding me of why it is I keep getting out of bed each morning to jump into the fray, especially on my weaker days.
Today, as I lay in bed giving baby girl her first feed, she fell asleep next to me, and giggled in her sleep. She has a deep chuckle for such a little girl and I could barely stiffle my own giggle watching her smile at whatever hilarious dream she was having. I've struggled so hard with breastfeeding and these little moments remind me why I fight every day to keep that relationship strong. It's helping me to grow my already strong bond with my baby girl.
Our eldest, the little princess, has had the honour of giving me a reliable moment of daily joy for 10 days. She's signed up for a charity campaign where she draws a picture on a chosen theme for 30 days and people pledge to support her. My 4 year old artiste has already raised $150 in support of an AIDS/HIV charity. That's wonderful enough, but to add to this I have the joy of watching her mind work through the idea of her challenge for the day. She usually ends up chatting her little heart out and gets completely distracted before I remind her of her drawing. I then get to watch her bend over her paper with great intensity as she fulfills her task.
Our oldest boy is my little button pusher. He's the screamer, pusher, and definitely the go-to guy if you have a question that demands an answer of "no". I love his spunky and independant spirit even if he drives me a little crazy sometimes. For all of his spiritedness he's truly a gentle soul, and is becoming a doting older brother to his roommate, his little brother. He's started this little habit that I have no intention of breaking (for so many reasons): whenever we get home from being out he gently asks his brother to sit down, then he very carefully takes off his brother's shoes for him. Then, if he can get him to stay still he'll take off his brother's coat. So precious. Some day I think he'll make a great Daddy.
Now our little man, Daddy's shadow, can't help but be adorable. He's on the small side for his age and has just started climbing all over the furniture, a feat his stature had denied him previous. Besides this, he's also started forming full sentences and the results would melt any mother's heart. A lot of what he says involves his brother, running the gamut from "Brother, where ARE you??", "Brother, play with ME!" to "NO, brother. NO!". It's great to see him coming into his own and even better to see that he adores his roomie. I must say though, what really gave me a little burst of joy seems so inconsequential from the outside, but was for me another memory to store in my heart for the lean teenage years sure to come. My wee 20 month old boy, covered in markers, came up to me with a look of the greatest trust and earnestness and, holding up a marker in his perfectly formed little hands, asked me in the sweetest voice: "Mommy, please help me with this. Please!" He wanted me to help him uncap his marker, no biggie. The best part was right after, completely unbidden, he followed up with a big smile, a hug and an unmistakable "Thank you, Mommy!" before he ran back to drawing with his brother and sister. Melt.
I'm writing these little moments as much to help myself remember in the tough times as anything. I want to soak up these moments, live in these moments and treasure them as the precious miracles they are. These moments also help me appreciate the personalities of each of my children, which is a blessing in and of itself. I thank God that He keeps giving me these little moments to get me through and remind me that there's always light in the dark places, I just need to keep my eyes open.
These days even a small moment of joy is enough to fuel me through the rest of an unpredictable day. I'm holding on to my little moments tightly, doing my best to remind myself over and over again how lucky I am. With four children these moments come surprisingly often (mind you they are perfectly balanced with the complete pandemonium that four crying, screaming kids can bring). Each child has their own unique way of reminding me of why it is I keep getting out of bed each morning to jump into the fray, especially on my weaker days.
Today, as I lay in bed giving baby girl her first feed, she fell asleep next to me, and giggled in her sleep. She has a deep chuckle for such a little girl and I could barely stiffle my own giggle watching her smile at whatever hilarious dream she was having. I've struggled so hard with breastfeeding and these little moments remind me why I fight every day to keep that relationship strong. It's helping me to grow my already strong bond with my baby girl.
Our eldest, the little princess, has had the honour of giving me a reliable moment of daily joy for 10 days. She's signed up for a charity campaign where she draws a picture on a chosen theme for 30 days and people pledge to support her. My 4 year old artiste has already raised $150 in support of an AIDS/HIV charity. That's wonderful enough, but to add to this I have the joy of watching her mind work through the idea of her challenge for the day. She usually ends up chatting her little heart out and gets completely distracted before I remind her of her drawing. I then get to watch her bend over her paper with great intensity as she fulfills her task.
Our oldest boy is my little button pusher. He's the screamer, pusher, and definitely the go-to guy if you have a question that demands an answer of "no". I love his spunky and independant spirit even if he drives me a little crazy sometimes. For all of his spiritedness he's truly a gentle soul, and is becoming a doting older brother to his roommate, his little brother. He's started this little habit that I have no intention of breaking (for so many reasons): whenever we get home from being out he gently asks his brother to sit down, then he very carefully takes off his brother's shoes for him. Then, if he can get him to stay still he'll take off his brother's coat. So precious. Some day I think he'll make a great Daddy.
Now our little man, Daddy's shadow, can't help but be adorable. He's on the small side for his age and has just started climbing all over the furniture, a feat his stature had denied him previous. Besides this, he's also started forming full sentences and the results would melt any mother's heart. A lot of what he says involves his brother, running the gamut from "Brother, where ARE you??", "Brother, play with ME!" to "NO, brother. NO!". It's great to see him coming into his own and even better to see that he adores his roomie. I must say though, what really gave me a little burst of joy seems so inconsequential from the outside, but was for me another memory to store in my heart for the lean teenage years sure to come. My wee 20 month old boy, covered in markers, came up to me with a look of the greatest trust and earnestness and, holding up a marker in his perfectly formed little hands, asked me in the sweetest voice: "Mommy, please help me with this. Please!" He wanted me to help him uncap his marker, no biggie. The best part was right after, completely unbidden, he followed up with a big smile, a hug and an unmistakable "Thank you, Mommy!" before he ran back to drawing with his brother and sister. Melt.
I'm writing these little moments as much to help myself remember in the tough times as anything. I want to soak up these moments, live in these moments and treasure them as the precious miracles they are. These moments also help me appreciate the personalities of each of my children, which is a blessing in and of itself. I thank God that He keeps giving me these little moments to get me through and remind me that there's always light in the dark places, I just need to keep my eyes open.
Sunday, 20 November 2011
Feeding Troubles
I am again faced with concerns that another baby isn't thriving on breastmilk. The second my babies start sleeping through the night (or even most of the night) I can't seem to feed them enough during the day to keep them growing. I had to resort to supplementing with formula (once on doctor's orders after my son actually started losing weight) with my three oldest children.
With our newest baby, who was a perfect 9lbs1oz at birth, I'm doing my best to literally feed her all day. All day. I've become a pro at feeding her sitting, standing, reclining, eating, cooking and, yesterday, while finger painting.
She's doing better on breastmilk than any of the older kids did, but at her last check-up her weight had stalled. She gained maybe a half a pound in a month. I had been so sure that, unlike her siblings, she was thriving that when I saw the number on the scale, a mere 1lb6oz over her birth weight, it felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. I'm starting to get worried. My body, which can grow babies perfectly and has no major problem with birth, doesn't seem all too skilled at feeding these precious gifts.
I've already had comments questioning why I would want to be a slave to feeding, how inconvenient it must be to have to feed all day with three older kids that need me, and asking me what the harm is of formula feeding (as pumping simply doesn't work for me). After years of trying to breastfeed my kids I don't see it as a burden, but as an ideal to aspire too. I want so badly to be that Mom that struggled but, after some work, wound up with a beautiful breastfeeding relationship and a chubby, healthy baby who I'd have to worry about weaning.
The 4 month appointment, days before Christmas, will be the deciding moment for my latest attempt to breastfeed. Either I'll be a happily busy Mom singing Christmas carols with my baby cozy under my shawl or Santa will be leaving a shiny can of formula under the tree.
Either way I'll be grateful that I have the option and that, however I have to do it, I can feed my baby. I will sit in our usual pew surrounded by my family remembering the Christmas 5 years ago when I was pregnant but didn't know it yet and I said an intense prayer for my dream baby. I didn't care about breastfeeding or formula. I just knew I wanted to start a family with my wonderful husband. I know that no matter the struggles God answered that prayer and then some. No struggles seem so big next to that one, incredible, answered prayer.
With our newest baby, who was a perfect 9lbs1oz at birth, I'm doing my best to literally feed her all day. All day. I've become a pro at feeding her sitting, standing, reclining, eating, cooking and, yesterday, while finger painting.
She's doing better on breastmilk than any of the older kids did, but at her last check-up her weight had stalled. She gained maybe a half a pound in a month. I had been so sure that, unlike her siblings, she was thriving that when I saw the number on the scale, a mere 1lb6oz over her birth weight, it felt like I'd been kicked in the gut. I'm starting to get worried. My body, which can grow babies perfectly and has no major problem with birth, doesn't seem all too skilled at feeding these precious gifts.
I've already had comments questioning why I would want to be a slave to feeding, how inconvenient it must be to have to feed all day with three older kids that need me, and asking me what the harm is of formula feeding (as pumping simply doesn't work for me). After years of trying to breastfeed my kids I don't see it as a burden, but as an ideal to aspire too. I want so badly to be that Mom that struggled but, after some work, wound up with a beautiful breastfeeding relationship and a chubby, healthy baby who I'd have to worry about weaning.
The 4 month appointment, days before Christmas, will be the deciding moment for my latest attempt to breastfeed. Either I'll be a happily busy Mom singing Christmas carols with my baby cozy under my shawl or Santa will be leaving a shiny can of formula under the tree.
Either way I'll be grateful that I have the option and that, however I have to do it, I can feed my baby. I will sit in our usual pew surrounded by my family remembering the Christmas 5 years ago when I was pregnant but didn't know it yet and I said an intense prayer for my dream baby. I didn't care about breastfeeding or formula. I just knew I wanted to start a family with my wonderful husband. I know that no matter the struggles God answered that prayer and then some. No struggles seem so big next to that one, incredible, answered prayer.
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