Boob Juice and Embarrassment

Warning: This post might get lengthy. 

This week, I'm linking up with Kaitlyn over at Wifessionals for her series Preparing For A Little One.  You see, Kaitlyn is pregnant, and I am so EXCITED for her, but I'm sitting her contemplating another margarita because both my kids are *finally* sleeping.   This week's topic for PFALO is breast feeding vs. formula feeding, and I felt like I should chime in because there are two sides to every story.   With Hadley, I was dead set on BFing.  It was important to me, and you know what the research says.  It's what's best for baby, plus it's cheap, so why wouldn't we do it?  I was a first time mom, so I had the 'my way or the highway,' attitude.  We tried, and we tried to get the hang of breast feeding, but the truth was we both hated it.   I spent so much time attached to my pump and to this day, I hate loathe despise the word 'breast pump.'  After a hard fought battle, and HOURS attached to my pump in style advanced, I threw up the white flag.  I was DONE.  And Hadley was just as happy to be getting formula as she was that breast milk I worked so hard for.   And then I found out about Emmalyn (approximately two months to the day after my surrender) and I knew that because "breast is best,"  I would try again.  Emmalyn was evicted and brought into my recovery room about 30 minutes later for her first attempt at breast feeding.  She latched on like a champ and nursed for about 10 minutes.  And again 3 hours later.  In a 4 hour time frame,  Emmalyn was already a better nurser than her older sister had ever been.   After that, we met the pediatrician and she told us about the cleft palate, discovered by accident.   I have some training in the area of cleft palates, and I instantly knew that Emmalyn would not be able to produce the internal pressures required for breast feeding.   And I was not devastated.  I kept trying through out the day, but when it became obvious that she was getting hungry,  I called the nurse for my similac advance.   Formula feeding TOTALLY changed my newborn experience.  I'm not writing this to dissuade anyone from breast feeding because we're planning on a third baby, and I'm planning on trying the boob juice again, but seriously!! formula feeding made my life so much easier.   I wasn't stressed out all the time about how much milk I was producing.  I wasn't constantly laying around with an infant stuck to my chest.  My husband/parents/random guy at the store could feed her and it would be fine!  I didn't have to tote my breast pump everywhere I went.  I didn't have to time my showers with her feedings because the ridiculous let down issues in the shower.   My baby was happy, and getting all her nutrients, and I wasn't on the verge of freaking out ALL the time.   In addition, my body was much happier.  With Hadley, I never lost any baby weight, I was moody and depressed, and just not a happy person.  I haven't had any issues like that with Emmalyn.  I returned to my normal self pretty quickly.  I lost all my weight from both babies (plus 10 lbs).  My boobs don't leak every time she cries.  I don't have a fridge full of half bottles of breast milk.   In fact, my fridge is full of wine and skinnygirl margaritas.   My kid is formula fed, and we're all happier that way.   I've decided to link up with Jenni at Story of My Life for a blog every day challenge.

The truth about today's prompt for the every day challenge is that I don't embarrass easily.  I'm kind of take me as I am type person, and I should probably feel like a general ass much more frequently than I do.  

Embarassing: My kid, Hadley, pulled my boob out at her first birthday party.  Seriously? Did you not just read about the fact that she hates my boobs?  She hates drinking from them, but isn't so concerned about exposing them to other people. 

Embarrassing:  When my patient called his wife a "sex toy" in front of her, and More Embarassing: I was the only one disturbed by this.  

Embarrassing:  When you run up to an old friend and smack him on the booty (am I the only one that greets friends this way?) and his new girlfriend threatens to kill you.  Loudly.  In a book store.  While your with your husband.  Seriously?

But seriously, none of this stuff really bothers me.  

A few moments of reflection

In light of HC's 6 montherversary,  I've been thinking about how I pictured myself as a mom.  As a person, I'm very laid back and go with the flow.  I love to budget money and make lists.  I recycle.  I like to spend time with my family.

I found two major things that I thought would go differently.

The first is breastfeeding.  I loathed it.  I was absolutely sure, as a pregnant woman, as a first time mom, that breastfeeding was going to be this amazing experience.  I was so certain that I was going to breastfeed exclusively until HC was a 6 months old, and wean her some time around the one year mark.   That was my vision.  My reality was that I'm pretty sure HC hated breastfeeding as much as I did.  We ended up supplementing with formula before we left the hospital.  After that though, she was exclusively breastfed for about...6 weeks....and 90% of that was pumped milk.  She wouldn't latch.  When she latched, she would nurse and nurse and nurse until she fell asleep, and then the *MINUTE*  *SECOND* *NANOSECOND that I tried to move her, she would scream and cry until I put her back on.  We would do that all day long. I tried slipping a pacifier in.  I tried letting her cry until she fell asleep.  Nothing.  Nada.  Not budging.  Until she was 8 weeks old.  I was ready to quit.  I was throwing in the towel, and then something came to me.  I'm not sure what it was, I just know, something was telling me.  Just try this last week.  This is your last week staying home with your baby girl.  Do the best that you can. Just try.  So HC was breast fed, from the boob not a bottle, for one week.  It was glorious.  I wasn't hooked to the pump all the time.  FANTASTIC.  Then I had to go back to work. I would get up, nurse her before I left, get her ready to go, and then drop her off.  I pumped on the way too work (40 minutes), one time at work, and on the way home from work.  I nursed her at home.  Slowly, over time, HC started fighting more and more nursing sessions until we weren't nursing.  Tables slowly turned so she started out getting one bottle of formula a day, then two, and then when she was 5 months old, I realized I was pumping 3-4 times a day, and she was getting 1 bottle of breastmilk.  Seriously???  That's when I gave it up.  To be honest, I'm not sure she's noticed.

The second thing I was just convinced I was going to do was cloth diaper.  It's good for the environment.  It's good for HC.  Who needs all those chemicals in diapers anyways?  I can just wash them.  I was very diligent with my cloth diapering on maternity leave.  If we were at home, that's what we used.  It was fine.  No worries.  After I went back to work, she was wearing disposables during the day, and I honestly had more on my plate then I could juggle.  Plus, being away from my dear, sweet daughter for 10 hours a day? I couldn't handle it all.  I mean, I was barely functioning to get laundry washed as it was, much less, adding cloth diaper laundry to the mix.  So I quit.  She's been using disposable diapers since I went back to work.  That means, I have all this fluff, laid neatly in a drawer, still on a dryer rack in the laundry room, and HC's bottom is just getting pasted with chemicals.  That's ok.

I've recently felt this strong motivation to become a better wife and mother.  I've been reading about how the Bible wants you to be a 'submissive/respectful' wife.  I know that's to an extent, but that is not me *at all.*  I'm going to try.    I know the breastfeeding ship has sailed, but I think I'm going to try cloth diapers again.  We'll see what happens.