Independence Day

Freedom Bra

Shortly after celebrating the Independence of our nation and before celebrating the Independence of C from my womb, I declared independence for the vast nation of my boobies...bordered by my neck and my torso (although the nation of boobies is always threatening to invade the peaceful land of my torso, and it is taking increasingly strong walls to resist).
The morning of July 9th was C's last taste of the boob.  It seemed like a good time because Jake had the week off and could attend to her more often.  Most people I know stopped breastfeeding because they dried up or their kid made the decision for them - I did it because I was tired of my hair falling out and my body was screaming that I needed to stop giving away my hydration and nutrition and freedom.  I had to Google how to do this because I didn't take the freaking breastfeeding class because I was tired of seeing the hospital and figured either C and I would figure it out or we wouldn't.  Well, we figured it out. And we stuck with it.
The first day we snuck it under the radar pretty easily, but by day two she got the hint and wanted to make sure we knew she did NOT approve. It took about 5 days of violent tugging at the neckline of my shirts, dirty looks, and climbing into my lap and putting herself into prime boob eating position, for her to really give in.  As long as I fed her food or distracted her every time, she seemed to be mildly okay with it.  However, it wasn't lost on me that she became very attached to Mr. and -call me crazy (or stand in line to do so) - but I'm pretty sure she essentially STOPPED saying "mama."

WTF?! and Where Can I Find One of These?

I did alright too...I did not let myself dwell on the fact that we would never have that particular bond again or that this was a true sign that she was moving on from being my little baby or that if we crashed on a desert island, LOST style, I couldn't single-handedly keep her nourished (yes, these things cross my mind more than you'd like to know).  I was easily able to bring up the feeling of "done-ness" that inspired this in the first place.  I was Pamela Anderson for about a week...with rock hard Jugs that hurt like crazy and couldn't be any fun even though they looked great.  I had to bind them and heat them and ice them - ironically in my office the only ice I had was a leftover frozen bag of breast milk - and once I even broke protocol and emptied out the super producer (otherwise known as LEFT BOOBIE) in the shower to relieve some of the stabbing pain - and discovered that should be PART of protocol.  It hasn't had any further pain since then.  (now on day 15).
So now Mr. can get up with C - although the universe's joke is on me...since she's not gonna get any boob juice, she's not so interested in getting up in the middle of the night anymore.  I can now wear high necked anything and regular bras...speaking of which, I'm researching one that makes cream puffs out of flapjacks.  Suggestions appreciated. They are definitely not full on pancake boobies, but the have migrated slightly south and lost a little gusto - like a week old Mylar balloon.  Ok, enough about my fun bags.  C is done breastfeeding and I own my body once again.  At least for the time being....

The Good, The Bad, and The Epidural

For those of you ready to grab a garbage can and lose your lunch, this is not my birth story - per say.  It is sort of a run down of what has worked (for me...everyone is different, no advice, blah, blah, blah) thus far and what has not, even with the best of intentions and worst of my stubborn attitude on my side. Also, I'm not beating myself up for anything that didn't work out how I expected it to...

What Did NOT Work:

Natural Child Birth
I started studying Hypnobabies birthing method very early in my pregnancy.  It was honestly, the best thing I did even if I didn't use it so much in the delivery room.  Practicing was some forced relaxation on a daily basis, and there were a lot of positive affirmations that I really needed.  I planned to use it to control pain through labor that I hoped to do a lot of at home, then go in to the hospital towards the end...yadda, yadda.  Instead I was induced to avoid preclampsia.  By the time I went in to Labor and Delivery to have the baby I had been there 6 times before- using my Hypnobabies every time to relax, bring my blood pressure back down, and stay positive while waiting for something, ANYTHING, to happen.  I used it during my Braxton Hicks and I used it for all the contractions that I had (or as I like to call it, the imaginary baseball bat being rammed up my hiney - sorry, maybe you do need that garbage can).  I actually ended up getting the epidural, not for contractions, but for this evil procedure called a "Foley Bulb."  And then I ended up with a c-section- lots more medication, very un-natural, but resulted in a healthy baby and healthy mama. Although this story isn't over...I can still try next time.




Sleep Training

Cute Can't be Learned

That's not completely true, but the crying it out that I had always told people was so important to do...couldn't and still can't.  Every once in a while I do let her fuss to go back to sleep, but I have never let her wail for a couple hours to get her to sooth herself.  She goes to bed at the same time daily, gets up once to eat (although she probably COULD sleep through the night), and probably gets up a little early...but I'm just not ready to introduce her to more disappointment than the shots, and not being allowed to Gnaw on my Gnipples.

Baby Led Weaning

Happy with mush

This is a method where you basically just hand your baby what you're eating (within reason) and let them feed themselves whole food with very little interference, maintaining breastfeeding or formula as the main source of nutrition from 6-12 months.  This is great in theory.  However, 1) The doctor suggested (strongly, amid suggestions of possible malabsorption issues) that I start feeding before 6 months with the intent of getting as much as possible INTO her, 2) we still deal with the possibilities of allergies, and 3) I am a control freak.  I feed C food that doesn't leak from me twice a day during the week (SuperSitter feeds her lunch).  Once I am getting ready to leave for work with a bit of a time crunch, once I am tired and have roughly 2 hours with the baby before she goes to bed.  Neither time do I have it in me to put all my energy toward relaxing about choking and moving at her pace instead of mine.  C has proven herself in the "taking bites" with bread, a roll, a gardening book, and a birthday card for Auntie G but I can't bring myself to let her try to navigate it all in the self destruct button chasm that is the back of her mouth.

What Did Work:

Breastfeeding

'Cause that's how big they felt

My boobs, in their sad shape, might disagree.  The future income of a local plastic surgeon might emphatically agree.  This was my one brag-worthy moment from C's birthday...she latched on within 1/2 an hour. She briefly gave up the next day when her efforts were still fruitless, but picked it back up with no trouble.  I've had to drink teas, and pump, and fully eliminate everything that I couldn't pick out of the ground myself...after about 2 months essentially everyone around me encouraged me to quit to maintain my own sanity. 7 months later, some days I want to punch my pump in the face for making that noise that can only be translated to "Wack-o, Wack-o."  Some days I want to eat whatever processed, dairy filled, cheesy shit mess that I please.  But I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I am getting a little sad about getting there.  At 3 am, or during shots, or during the stranded-on-a-desert-island catastrophes that my mind can create...I am easily able console AND nourish my sweet little bugger.  And it's cheaper.

Cloth Diapering

that's some crunchy shiz

On this one, I must respectfully say suck it biotch to all the haterators that laughed at me for this one.  Comments (to my face, so who knows what was said otherwise) like, "oh, can't wait to see what you do the first time you see a huge poop" (like I hadn't considered that my baby would produce a deuce) or making bets about how long it would last.  It works great for us...doesn't work well for everyone, but we like it.  Even Mr. P is a fan.  My washing machine is NOT covered in shit, C's room doesn't NOT stink to holy hell, and my baby's booty is NOT a mess.  In fact, since we started at 7 weeks, we have had one mild diaper rash.

And ultimately what has worked is taking things as they come and being flexible...not easy for an anal-retentive, closet routine-freak.  Who me? What?! No! Ok. Yes.  But add good mom to that. Great some days, fair on others...not too shabby on most.  Mr. P is pretty awesome too.