For those that don't know me, I am a stay at home mom. This is a choice both DH and I have agreed on while I finish school and he works some very bizarre hours. It makes things a little tight at times, but we manage.
We have two wonderful boys, the oldest is almost 26 months and our newest addition is just over three months. I breastfeed them both. I say again, I breastfeed them both. My reasons are my own, but for those who scoff at the idea that a 26 month old is still at the breast: research fully backs up the need for a baby to breastfeed from 2.5 years to as much as 7. I don't know how long my oldest will be breastfeeding as it is his decision. It was his decision when he started to eat solids, which wasn't until 10 months, and it'll be his decision when he stops breastfeeding.
Gasp! Oh my goodness! This lady allows her walking and talking toddler to feed from her. How can this be! Here's another little tidbit: the USDA and AAP have changed the guidelines for toddlers and OTC drugs. Anyone notice how many infants OTC meds are the shelf? Take a look. It's all fever reducers.
Every other medicine that used to be made available for infants and toddlers is now for 4 and older. I have to take my toddler to the pediatrician to get a script for a children's medicine that must be administered at a lower dosage. So you can get the same OTC children's medicine, but from my understanding, unless you have a child four or older, you need a prescription for that OTC.
So that takes us back to breastfeeding. Breastfeeding is a form of medicine. It is still being widely researched for what all is in breastmilk, but if it is good enough to give to cancer patients than it is good enough to give to my toddler.
DH and I were in a huge fight earlier. We're on our way to his dad's and stepmom's to meet his sister's boyfriend, and this young man's request. I hope he knows what he's doing; she does have two older brothers. Anyway, he asked me, he puts it as this one time (which it is the first time) to not breastfeed our youngest in front of this young man. I felt my heart rip in two.
Now before you say I'm being such a drama queen, how would you feel if someone asked you, this one time, for you to go eat in another room, or not eat at all, because they didn't like the way you ate? Insulted? Ashamed? Upset? Torn apart that someone you love and trust told you that you can't do that in front of someone?
Reasons: he's a young man, so don't plop it out (my words not his) in front him to feed our son; you want everyone to have respect for you and your breastfeeding. What about everyone else's feelings? Why can't you make everyone else feel comfortable too (all I hear is why can't you be like other moms and feed with a bottle or why can't you just this one time hide away so nobody feels weird about what's happening)?
BECAUSE I'M NOT ASHAMED OF WHAT I DO
My three month old feeds from "the tap" in public. Depending on what I'm wearing and how active my son is depends on whether I will cover up. Also, depending on where I am. When I am over at other peoples homes I will wear a cover or a blanket. I do have respect for other peoples dwellings. If I know I am in a home where the people living there believe in breastfeeding, I won't cover, unless I have seen them cover, then I'll know their position on public breastfeeding.
When we go to my in-laws, I cover. At my home, I will not cover. That is where I sleep, eat, shower, do my business, live and make the rules. I will not cover up in my own home.
DH told me I sound like some kind of activist, that I have basically taken this too far. Correction.
I AM A LACTIVIST!!!
I stand for breastfeeding. I stand for my right to breastfeed where I want and when I want, rather when my son wants. I don't practice the cry it out method. I practice shove that nipple in that crying baby's mouth method. I say shove because this is what people tend to say when a baby is crying and you've tried everything else.
Yes, I publicly breastfeed, sometimes covered sometimes not. Yes, I feed my toddler, but for him it is just snack time, and we're normally home during snack time or he falls asleep. He hasn't nursed in public since right before I was pregnant with our youngest. It's just how it's worked out, but I do feed him at other people's homes, when there isn't so much going on. He practices gymnastics breastfeeding, so sometimes it's a little difficult.
So after DH finally apologized for making me cry, and yes I bawled my eyes out because he was the last person I expected to tell me to hide away in a room this one time. That really hurt my feelings. So yes I cried, and cried, and cried.
Finally, yes. I'm an agnostic. I haven't been to church on my own since my mom died. And really, I haven't talked to god since then either. That's nearly ten years. I grew up in the Lutheran religion the majority of my life, and I was led to believe that Lutheranism is the one true religion, that all others believe in way too much or practice weird things. I have questioned this for a long time.
I married an atheist, who grew up a baptist. We have been telling my family for the past six years we have been attending a church or different churches. DH brought up an interesting point. If I can't make his family feel comfortable, because my breastfeeding is obviously something to be ashamed of, then why should he continue to make my family comfortable.
He's right. This is the first time it is coming out. I should probably talk to my family first before saying this, but I will see them in a little over a month and if they have questions I am happy to answer them. We don't talk to god. We don't talk about god. We both agreed when our kids are older they can make the decision themselves. If they want to go to church, we happily support them.
We have religious friends. We get along great with our religious friends. Sometimes we talk about religion, but it normally doesn't come up. Not by choice, it just doesn't. We don't seclude ourselves from people who believe in what they want to believe in. Why should we? We don't have a problem with them or religion. We only choose to believe in what we do believe in.
So yes. Now it's time for us to be comfortable. We are not religious. We don't attend church, I breastfeed whenever and wherever and will continue to do so until my boys no longer want to breastfeed. I will continue to stand up for breastfeeding and continue to support every woman's right to ready feed whenever and wherever she likes.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
The holidays unveil the reality of life
As I lay here in bed, my head pounding from a sinus infection I'm trying to nip in the butt, I'm deciding whether or not I want to cry. Nothing horrible happened tonight, well except for the fact that we saw what lots of sugar and not enough sleep does to a toddler. Since Baby Boy was born my emotions have been set in overdrive. I'm not depressed by any means, at least I don't believe I am. Baby Boy is almost 9 weeks and I haven't cried once, though the urge has been there. Who knew how overwhelming having a newborn and a toddler could be.
Anyway, I have been dealing with this feeling of dread for quite some time. Tonight really forced that emotion to the surface; actually it's been the combination of the last few days events. I just kissed DH bye as he headed to Walgreens to pick up some pictures, batteries and medicine. I really wanted to cry then.
Every time I kiss him bye I often wonder if that's the last time I'll see him. I make it a point to pour my love and feelings into every kiss and give him this look of my undying devotion. You may be asking yourself why? Could this crazy lady be married to a man who is a cop, a firefighter or someone whose job forces them to put their life on the line?
In actuality, his life is on the line, but he isn't a public servant; not by any means. He is actually one of the most hated people in the city. No, he is not a politician. He is actually something worse. For purposes of anonymity, we will just say he is a crime reporter.
A reporter? Right, that is so dangerous. Let me stop you at that thought. I also thought the same thing at one point. A crime reporter just reports the crime, they get quotes from witnesses and the public servants at every scene. DH doesn't just report crime, he reports every detail of the truth of what happened at every scene, but not every crime he and the other reporters go to make it in the paper. There is always that bigger and better story that pushes everything else down the ladder.
DH has come home in the past, telling me someone being arrested threatened his life. He's friends with several of the cops and they often look at him and ask him if he wishes to press charges for someone threatening his life. He won't, because it will only make the matter worse, especially when 99% of the time it's just an open threat.
Now, I believe that percentage has gone down to 90%. I used to blow off the threats as people being pissed off. Who wants to end up in the paper, their face under some catchy/corny headline making fun of them for getting caught, there for the public to see? Nobody does, but there are those who take it to the next level.
The first time DH came home telling me someone threatened his life, I laughed. 1) What were they really going to do? 2) Did they know who they were threatening? 3) Refer back to 1.
It was all fine and dandy in the beginning, but it has slowly turned into no laughing matter. The first time DH told me someone tried to follow him home I didn't worry about it. I used to be a cop, I am familiar with the threats and how dangerous people can be when being arrested and how far they may be willing to go. I get it, but I know DH is much too careful and crafty to allow someone to follow him to our home.
The threats have become more frequent over time. He is the most hated man in our city. With another baby here, the thought of something happening to him has really driven the reality of the situation home. What would happen if he was no longer around? How would we survive? Seeing how my oldest has been with DH really drives home the reality of how hard life would be if he weren't here.
A couple nights ago, while DH was at a gas station picking up a couple drinks on his way back home from a call, he saw a man he recognized. It was someone that had threatened to kill him. I'm at home, figuring he had a call while on his way home. He comes in and tells me what happened, and that he drove around for five blocks, going different ways to make sure he wasn't being followed, and he was pretty sure he was being followed for a bit.
Poor guy is worn out too. Between a new baby, a toddler who won't sleep, and doing three or four peoples jobs, I wonder how much more he can handle before it becomes too much and something bad happens.
We know we're definitely going to buy a new place, someplace not in the city. Unfortunately, that also means he won't be home with us when he works nights, which will be a huge adjustment and will also bring on lots of fights. Little Boy loves spending time with his daddy, and Baby Boy needs to know there is a daddy in the picture. Moving means seeing daddy an hour or two in the mornings Monday to Wednesday, three hours Tuesday night, eight hours Thursday to Saturday and 12 hours Sunday. I'm taking time out for sleep.
So that's 45 hours in a week to see daddy, and that's on a normal, expected week. Minus nap time, which averages 2hrs a day, we're looking at an average of 31hrs. Sounds like plenty, right? Let's break down the time for someone with a 9-5 job. My boys wake up at about 7 in the morning. So we'll say 90 minutes every morning, 5 days a week. So that's 7-1/2hrs so far. My boys go to bed at 9, so we'll say 3-1/2hrs before bed, 5 days a week. That's 17-1/2hrs, so now we're at 25hrs. My boys are up for 14hrs, so that's 53hrs total. Minus nap time, we're averaging 39hrs a week to see daddy.
To me, 8hrs is a lot. That's 8hrs not chasing crime, not being threatened, not being followed, not having to worry about whether or not my husband, my boys' daddy, is coming home. Sure, he can get in a car accident or some other common accident, maybe afflicted with some kind of disease or sickness. But doing what he does, there's more of a chance he could be shot, stabbed, have someone follow him home and do who knows what.
This holiday really has opened my eyes to what I have and what I don't want to lose. Drama queen? Yes I am. But I'm also a realist. I look at everything from all angles, every possibility and pick out the likeliest scenarios. Though the likeliest, scariest scenarios may not happen, they are still there and still a greater possibility than the average incident.
Anyway, I have been dealing with this feeling of dread for quite some time. Tonight really forced that emotion to the surface; actually it's been the combination of the last few days events. I just kissed DH bye as he headed to Walgreens to pick up some pictures, batteries and medicine. I really wanted to cry then.
Every time I kiss him bye I often wonder if that's the last time I'll see him. I make it a point to pour my love and feelings into every kiss and give him this look of my undying devotion. You may be asking yourself why? Could this crazy lady be married to a man who is a cop, a firefighter or someone whose job forces them to put their life on the line?
In actuality, his life is on the line, but he isn't a public servant; not by any means. He is actually one of the most hated people in the city. No, he is not a politician. He is actually something worse. For purposes of anonymity, we will just say he is a crime reporter.
A reporter? Right, that is so dangerous. Let me stop you at that thought. I also thought the same thing at one point. A crime reporter just reports the crime, they get quotes from witnesses and the public servants at every scene. DH doesn't just report crime, he reports every detail of the truth of what happened at every scene, but not every crime he and the other reporters go to make it in the paper. There is always that bigger and better story that pushes everything else down the ladder.
DH has come home in the past, telling me someone being arrested threatened his life. He's friends with several of the cops and they often look at him and ask him if he wishes to press charges for someone threatening his life. He won't, because it will only make the matter worse, especially when 99% of the time it's just an open threat.
Now, I believe that percentage has gone down to 90%. I used to blow off the threats as people being pissed off. Who wants to end up in the paper, their face under some catchy/corny headline making fun of them for getting caught, there for the public to see? Nobody does, but there are those who take it to the next level.
The first time DH came home telling me someone threatened his life, I laughed. 1) What were they really going to do? 2) Did they know who they were threatening? 3) Refer back to 1.
It was all fine and dandy in the beginning, but it has slowly turned into no laughing matter. The first time DH told me someone tried to follow him home I didn't worry about it. I used to be a cop, I am familiar with the threats and how dangerous people can be when being arrested and how far they may be willing to go. I get it, but I know DH is much too careful and crafty to allow someone to follow him to our home.
The threats have become more frequent over time. He is the most hated man in our city. With another baby here, the thought of something happening to him has really driven the reality of the situation home. What would happen if he was no longer around? How would we survive? Seeing how my oldest has been with DH really drives home the reality of how hard life would be if he weren't here.
A couple nights ago, while DH was at a gas station picking up a couple drinks on his way back home from a call, he saw a man he recognized. It was someone that had threatened to kill him. I'm at home, figuring he had a call while on his way home. He comes in and tells me what happened, and that he drove around for five blocks, going different ways to make sure he wasn't being followed, and he was pretty sure he was being followed for a bit.
Poor guy is worn out too. Between a new baby, a toddler who won't sleep, and doing three or four peoples jobs, I wonder how much more he can handle before it becomes too much and something bad happens.
We know we're definitely going to buy a new place, someplace not in the city. Unfortunately, that also means he won't be home with us when he works nights, which will be a huge adjustment and will also bring on lots of fights. Little Boy loves spending time with his daddy, and Baby Boy needs to know there is a daddy in the picture. Moving means seeing daddy an hour or two in the mornings Monday to Wednesday, three hours Tuesday night, eight hours Thursday to Saturday and 12 hours Sunday. I'm taking time out for sleep.
So that's 45 hours in a week to see daddy, and that's on a normal, expected week. Minus nap time, which averages 2hrs a day, we're looking at an average of 31hrs. Sounds like plenty, right? Let's break down the time for someone with a 9-5 job. My boys wake up at about 7 in the morning. So we'll say 90 minutes every morning, 5 days a week. So that's 7-1/2hrs so far. My boys go to bed at 9, so we'll say 3-1/2hrs before bed, 5 days a week. That's 17-1/2hrs, so now we're at 25hrs. My boys are up for 14hrs, so that's 53hrs total. Minus nap time, we're averaging 39hrs a week to see daddy.
To me, 8hrs is a lot. That's 8hrs not chasing crime, not being threatened, not being followed, not having to worry about whether or not my husband, my boys' daddy, is coming home. Sure, he can get in a car accident or some other common accident, maybe afflicted with some kind of disease or sickness. But doing what he does, there's more of a chance he could be shot, stabbed, have someone follow him home and do who knows what.
This holiday really has opened my eyes to what I have and what I don't want to lose. Drama queen? Yes I am. But I'm also a realist. I look at everything from all angles, every possibility and pick out the likeliest scenarios. Though the likeliest, scariest scenarios may not happen, they are still there and still a greater possibility than the average incident.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
I did it to myself
Sort of sad and in a lot of pain. Baby boy is seven weeks old and guess what decided to pay a visit. Not only did my lochia last forever, but now I get to be a vampire again, or maybe I should say zombie; both can bleed forever and not die from it…
So what changed? I'm not bed-sharing this time; we bought a co-sleeper. We gave him a pacifier already; I think we waited nearly six months before Little Boy was given a pacifier, and my cycle didn't return until he was about 13 months…maybe a little before that.
Baby Boy is a horrible night nurser! I wake up engorged and he's still passed out, yet he also has a paci. I did it myself, didn't I. I have caused it to come back early because I'm not repeating the same steps.
I really just wanted my own space back and to snuggle with my hubby. Little Boy is sleeping in his own bed now, so can't I have my space from needy babies and cuddle time with hubby? I'm thinking it might be time to set some sort of schedule.
No, not the kind Dr. Spock has trained society to understand. This schedule will still follow Baby Boys's cues, but I'm going to have to time between those cues. Once I figure out his general pattern, I will have to set an alarm to get up and go pump. As much as I dislike the idea, cause I really hate to pump, I am going to have to find a way to use LAM.
I suppose we could always bed-share, but I really like my cuddle time. So no more pacis! Nurse more frequently! It's not that I want to keep aunt flow at bay, and yes I do for fertility purposes, but our supply can take a dip when menstruation happens. I have a seven week old. I don't want supply issues already.
Oh, and I'm in pain because I suffer from barometric arthritis. I don't have menstrual cramps.
So what changed? I'm not bed-sharing this time; we bought a co-sleeper. We gave him a pacifier already; I think we waited nearly six months before Little Boy was given a pacifier, and my cycle didn't return until he was about 13 months…maybe a little before that.
Baby Boy is a horrible night nurser! I wake up engorged and he's still passed out, yet he also has a paci. I did it myself, didn't I. I have caused it to come back early because I'm not repeating the same steps.
I really just wanted my own space back and to snuggle with my hubby. Little Boy is sleeping in his own bed now, so can't I have my space from needy babies and cuddle time with hubby? I'm thinking it might be time to set some sort of schedule.
No, not the kind Dr. Spock has trained society to understand. This schedule will still follow Baby Boys's cues, but I'm going to have to time between those cues. Once I figure out his general pattern, I will have to set an alarm to get up and go pump. As much as I dislike the idea, cause I really hate to pump, I am going to have to find a way to use LAM.
I suppose we could always bed-share, but I really like my cuddle time. So no more pacis! Nurse more frequently! It's not that I want to keep aunt flow at bay, and yes I do for fertility purposes, but our supply can take a dip when menstruation happens. I have a seven week old. I don't want supply issues already.
Oh, and I'm in pain because I suffer from barometric arthritis. I don't have menstrual cramps.
Monday, December 12, 2011
It's been too long...
Well, it's been so long since I've last updated this thing. What have I been up to...oh yes, I recently had baby number two, I started cloth diapering, I finished the semester, I'm taking a break from school for a little bit, I'm becoming crafty...I'm sure there is something I am forgetting.
Cloth is taking over my life! DH bought me a sewing machine for Christmas and I can't wait until it gets here! I have so many ideas in my head that I think I will explode! Hubby is glad though, it's keeping me happy and busy. Plus, I'm finding ways for us to save loads of money!
I'm successfully breastfeeding baby number two...oh, by the way we had another boy! Little Boy has decided he wants to nurse again. Not only am I nursing a newborn that has decided he is going to get an early start on his gymnastics, I'm also nursing a toddler that enjoys his gymnastics while tandem! How insane is that!
My birth was pretty easy. I wanted natural and was on my way there, but I was given pitocin and survived it for four hours. It became to unbearable and I wanted my epidural. I kept going back and forth, but for some reason I wasn't dilating fast enough. It had nothing to do with the scar tissue from last time. Maybe Baby Boy wasn't really ready, even though my water broke at seven in the morning...and on a Wednesday no less. Hubby tried to contain his enthusiasm as he texted "shit" to his boss, whose wife had baby number three two week earlier. Hubby works for a newspaper and it goes to press, needs to go to press, by Wednesday night. I laughed when DH told me the hospital staff gave him the dirtiest look as he brought a crate of work with him. It was hilarious especially since the crate is pink. Told hubby to bring my school work to the hospital. I was determined to get some work done. That didn't really pan out.
Baby Boy will be seven weeks soon. Little Boy just turned two. Hubby thinks I'm crazy because I'm already planning baby number 3, but we won't be pregnant, at least don't plan to be pregnant, until Baby Boy has already turned two. Little Boy will be four, almost five, when baby number 3 arrives. Hopefully being past thirty won't cause us too many fertility problems...especially since it took us nearly three years just to get pregnant with Little Boy.
DH and I are going to lose weight together. Part of our whole turning green is becoming more sustainable. That means eating more at home and making healthier choices for all of us. I've already lost the baby weight and plan on running soon. Actually, that was supposed to start yesterday now that I think about it, but sleep has escaped me and I don't have the energy.
Especially since my energy is focused elsewhere. I went to a Cloth Diapering 101 class through Starkville Natural Parenting. Since a friend of mine couldn't make it, I told her I would take notes. Well I took video instead. I'm finally getting around to editing the video. Yah, that's proving to be more work than I expected. I think I need to find an external mouse or put the video and software on DH's computer. Doing this on a laptop is killing me!
I told Laura, the SNP member who conducted the class, that I took video and was putting it together for a friend who couldn't make it and asked her if she wanted a copy for her website or SNP's website. Yah, now I've become a perfectionist. I told her it would be ready by the end of this week. So I've given myself a timeline and need to get it done. Which means I have started over twice. I am about to start over a third time. The software I d/l can't rotate video, and since PCs don't really like iPhone videos, I had to use Windows Movie Maker. DH came up with a brilliant idea, right as I saved the movie and it is still converting an hour later. Didn't think about rotating the video in WMM, making it and then putting it in the other software! I'm so angry with myself.
That's ok though. Day three of working on this should prove good. I know what I want it to look like and I know what I need to do now. It'll be looking pretty good by the end of the week, I hope. It better! I'm an amateur at video editing, but that doesn't mean it can't look good as far as amateur work goes. And the software I d/l is pretty good, so I'm hopeful.
Well, I suppose that is it for now. I am hoping to be more active here in the future. Planning on blogging every week. I have so much I like to talk about and so much going on right now!
Cloth is taking over my life! DH bought me a sewing machine for Christmas and I can't wait until it gets here! I have so many ideas in my head that I think I will explode! Hubby is glad though, it's keeping me happy and busy. Plus, I'm finding ways for us to save loads of money!
I'm successfully breastfeeding baby number two...oh, by the way we had another boy! Little Boy has decided he wants to nurse again. Not only am I nursing a newborn that has decided he is going to get an early start on his gymnastics, I'm also nursing a toddler that enjoys his gymnastics while tandem! How insane is that!
My birth was pretty easy. I wanted natural and was on my way there, but I was given pitocin and survived it for four hours. It became to unbearable and I wanted my epidural. I kept going back and forth, but for some reason I wasn't dilating fast enough. It had nothing to do with the scar tissue from last time. Maybe Baby Boy wasn't really ready, even though my water broke at seven in the morning...and on a Wednesday no less. Hubby tried to contain his enthusiasm as he texted "shit" to his boss, whose wife had baby number three two week earlier. Hubby works for a newspaper and it goes to press, needs to go to press, by Wednesday night. I laughed when DH told me the hospital staff gave him the dirtiest look as he brought a crate of work with him. It was hilarious especially since the crate is pink. Told hubby to bring my school work to the hospital. I was determined to get some work done. That didn't really pan out.
Baby Boy will be seven weeks soon. Little Boy just turned two. Hubby thinks I'm crazy because I'm already planning baby number 3, but we won't be pregnant, at least don't plan to be pregnant, until Baby Boy has already turned two. Little Boy will be four, almost five, when baby number 3 arrives. Hopefully being past thirty won't cause us too many fertility problems...especially since it took us nearly three years just to get pregnant with Little Boy.
DH and I are going to lose weight together. Part of our whole turning green is becoming more sustainable. That means eating more at home and making healthier choices for all of us. I've already lost the baby weight and plan on running soon. Actually, that was supposed to start yesterday now that I think about it, but sleep has escaped me and I don't have the energy.
Especially since my energy is focused elsewhere. I went to a Cloth Diapering 101 class through Starkville Natural Parenting. Since a friend of mine couldn't make it, I told her I would take notes. Well I took video instead. I'm finally getting around to editing the video. Yah, that's proving to be more work than I expected. I think I need to find an external mouse or put the video and software on DH's computer. Doing this on a laptop is killing me!
I told Laura, the SNP member who conducted the class, that I took video and was putting it together for a friend who couldn't make it and asked her if she wanted a copy for her website or SNP's website. Yah, now I've become a perfectionist. I told her it would be ready by the end of this week. So I've given myself a timeline and need to get it done. Which means I have started over twice. I am about to start over a third time. The software I d/l can't rotate video, and since PCs don't really like iPhone videos, I had to use Windows Movie Maker. DH came up with a brilliant idea, right as I saved the movie and it is still converting an hour later. Didn't think about rotating the video in WMM, making it and then putting it in the other software! I'm so angry with myself.
That's ok though. Day three of working on this should prove good. I know what I want it to look like and I know what I need to do now. It'll be looking pretty good by the end of the week, I hope. It better! I'm an amateur at video editing, but that doesn't mean it can't look good as far as amateur work goes. And the software I d/l is pretty good, so I'm hopeful.
Well, I suppose that is it for now. I am hoping to be more active here in the future. Planning on blogging every week. I have so much I like to talk about and so much going on right now!
Monday, February 7, 2011
I can admit when I am wrong...sometimes...
I am a very proud person, and I have this mentality that I am always right. I am a very stubborn woman and I try to be as educated as possible. Though, I do know that the most educated answer isn't always the right answer. And sometimes the most obvious answer is not the correct answer.
Two, maybe three, weeks ago I was ranting about how Mississippians can't drive in this winter weather. Mississippi isn't known for having "Northern" weather. Lately, we have had some very interesting winter weather. Weather that, any Mississippian would agree, is usually seen north of us, very north of us. Thus, the state only has a handful of salt trucks. We just aren't used to this weather.
Last week the winter fairy hit us, yet again. This time, it was really bad. DH calls me, as I'm leaving my last class for the week and tells me that I may not be able to make it home?
"Why?" I asked, suddenly panicked, thinking about my breastfed baby and how I'm going to survive the night if I'm stuck.
"The police are shutting down all the bridges. A cop has already been hit."
Unfortunately, the city we live in is only accessed by bridges. I'm sure I could probably find another way, but that would involve going way north or way south, entering Alabama and trying to avoid any bridge. However, being surrounded by many bodies of water, I'm sure that is also out of the question. So I'm panicking, pissed at the school for not letting us go early and frantic at how I am going to pump without a pump.
I called my lactation consultant. She is such a lifesaver, and though I was calm as can be, I'm sure she could sense my panic. I asked her if the local hospital had a pump I could rent or one there that I could use. I don't believe our hospital is very baby friendly, but surely they would have something I could use in case of an emergency.
"You have to call them to make sure they have one available. And if they do, you probably will have to purchase a kit."
That had registered at some point, but what didn't register is whether they would have one available or not. They are a hospital after all, wouldn't, or shouldn't, they have pumps available, or even a pump that can be used in the hospital with a purchased kit? So now I'm panicking again. Can my night get any worse?
Luckily, I was able to make it home. It took me anywhere between two to three hours, a trip that normally takes me about 30-45 minutes. I think I've ranted about something that has nothing to do with the title of this post...hmmm...
So what am I to admit that I am wrong about, this time? I'm not wrong often, at least I don't try to be.
"If you can't get to the hospital, or if they don't have a pump for you to use, you may have to manually express. Do you know how to do that?"
This was my lactation consultant, keeping me grounded in case I was to get stuck. Sure, I know how to manually express. Doesn't everybody? Well, no. If you haven't done it than you don't know what to do, or so the consensus is. So today, not even a week after this terrible storm came through, I forgot my pump. The one thing I absolutely need while at school. Sure, I need a pencil, some paper and a textbook, but I can borrow these things and or share with a classmate. I cannot do this with a pump. So what is a breastfeeder to do?
It was easier to go to the smaller lactation room on campus by this point. I was either going to waste the milk into a paper towel or put it into something, but I had no clue what. Well, I had a water bottle. I poured the rest of the water out, sat down and opened up shop. It's okay, I had done this once before. Maybe I wasn't fully prepared then. I didn't get very much milk then, but maybe this time would be different. I had an hour, well, 45 minutes really, before I needed to leave to get to my class. I could do this.
And then the pain starts. My wrists began to hurt, and squeezing your breasts tend to put your wrists at an awkward angle. Yes, I said breasts. Problem number one. I kept trying to express, but then my breasts started to hurt and ache. They were full, so I knew I needed to express before I became engorged, but I was only getting a drop or two. There was no let down happening! So what's a mommy to do? Before I answer that, I have to essentially show you what it was I thought was the correct way. Someone had told me that it's like milking a cow. Well, I don't know if they have ever milked a cow, but surely there had to be more of an explanation. After all, I grew up in the military and graduated high school from a retirement town. Though, it was a farming town, I never did see what it was like to milk a cow.
I've often told other women along my breastfeeding journey to do the same thing. And I've done this, how I thought it was supposed to be done. Manually expressing me, not a cow. There was so much pain. I thought this is what it would feel like to have a mammogram based on my mother's own experiences. It was so painful and I couldn't stand it. I told my self I would never do it again, I knew how and that was enough. I won't ever forget my pump so I don't need to ever worry about it again.
This is what I did to my entire breast! Well, not so fast, but it's what I was doing. So painful!!! I would start from my chest and move all the way down to my nipple, while grasping firmly and causing immense pain. Not even my pump causes that much pain! I had less than an hour left before class, let down hasn't happened and I'm almost in tears because my wrists hurts as well as my breasts. What is a breastfeeder to do? I did the only logical thing I could think of. I went to YouTube and searched for manually expressing breastmilk. Would YouTube allow that to be on? Thankfully, yes!
I'm searching, waiting for a video to come up and waiting for the pain to go away. Surely there was a much easier, less painful way to express a couple ounces from each side. And there was! Let me introduce you to the marmet technique! Why didn't I ever take a breastfeeding class? This would have been so helpful to know before all the pain I put myself through! Not to mention it was super easy and my wrists didn't hurt as bad. Actually, the pain was very dull. Though I don't want to ever have to do this again, I'm glad I did learn the right way to express. Now, all mother's I talk to in the future will know it's not like milking a cow at all. There is a right way and a wrong way.
Two, maybe three, weeks ago I was ranting about how Mississippians can't drive in this winter weather. Mississippi isn't known for having "Northern" weather. Lately, we have had some very interesting winter weather. Weather that, any Mississippian would agree, is usually seen north of us, very north of us. Thus, the state only has a handful of salt trucks. We just aren't used to this weather.
Last week the winter fairy hit us, yet again. This time, it was really bad. DH calls me, as I'm leaving my last class for the week and tells me that I may not be able to make it home?
"Why?" I asked, suddenly panicked, thinking about my breastfed baby and how I'm going to survive the night if I'm stuck.
"The police are shutting down all the bridges. A cop has already been hit."
Unfortunately, the city we live in is only accessed by bridges. I'm sure I could probably find another way, but that would involve going way north or way south, entering Alabama and trying to avoid any bridge. However, being surrounded by many bodies of water, I'm sure that is also out of the question. So I'm panicking, pissed at the school for not letting us go early and frantic at how I am going to pump without a pump.
I called my lactation consultant. She is such a lifesaver, and though I was calm as can be, I'm sure she could sense my panic. I asked her if the local hospital had a pump I could rent or one there that I could use. I don't believe our hospital is very baby friendly, but surely they would have something I could use in case of an emergency.
"You have to call them to make sure they have one available. And if they do, you probably will have to purchase a kit."
That had registered at some point, but what didn't register is whether they would have one available or not. They are a hospital after all, wouldn't, or shouldn't, they have pumps available, or even a pump that can be used in the hospital with a purchased kit? So now I'm panicking again. Can my night get any worse?
Luckily, I was able to make it home. It took me anywhere between two to three hours, a trip that normally takes me about 30-45 minutes. I think I've ranted about something that has nothing to do with the title of this post...hmmm...
So what am I to admit that I am wrong about, this time? I'm not wrong often, at least I don't try to be.
"If you can't get to the hospital, or if they don't have a pump for you to use, you may have to manually express. Do you know how to do that?"
This was my lactation consultant, keeping me grounded in case I was to get stuck. Sure, I know how to manually express. Doesn't everybody? Well, no. If you haven't done it than you don't know what to do, or so the consensus is. So today, not even a week after this terrible storm came through, I forgot my pump. The one thing I absolutely need while at school. Sure, I need a pencil, some paper and a textbook, but I can borrow these things and or share with a classmate. I cannot do this with a pump. So what is a breastfeeder to do?
It was easier to go to the smaller lactation room on campus by this point. I was either going to waste the milk into a paper towel or put it into something, but I had no clue what. Well, I had a water bottle. I poured the rest of the water out, sat down and opened up shop. It's okay, I had done this once before. Maybe I wasn't fully prepared then. I didn't get very much milk then, but maybe this time would be different. I had an hour, well, 45 minutes really, before I needed to leave to get to my class. I could do this.
And then the pain starts. My wrists began to hurt, and squeezing your breasts tend to put your wrists at an awkward angle. Yes, I said breasts. Problem number one. I kept trying to express, but then my breasts started to hurt and ache. They were full, so I knew I needed to express before I became engorged, but I was only getting a drop or two. There was no let down happening! So what's a mommy to do? Before I answer that, I have to essentially show you what it was I thought was the correct way. Someone had told me that it's like milking a cow. Well, I don't know if they have ever milked a cow, but surely there had to be more of an explanation. After all, I grew up in the military and graduated high school from a retirement town. Though, it was a farming town, I never did see what it was like to milk a cow.
I've often told other women along my breastfeeding journey to do the same thing. And I've done this, how I thought it was supposed to be done. Manually expressing me, not a cow. There was so much pain. I thought this is what it would feel like to have a mammogram based on my mother's own experiences. It was so painful and I couldn't stand it. I told my self I would never do it again, I knew how and that was enough. I won't ever forget my pump so I don't need to ever worry about it again.
This is what I did to my entire breast! Well, not so fast, but it's what I was doing. So painful!!! I would start from my chest and move all the way down to my nipple, while grasping firmly and causing immense pain. Not even my pump causes that much pain! I had less than an hour left before class, let down hasn't happened and I'm almost in tears because my wrists hurts as well as my breasts. What is a breastfeeder to do? I did the only logical thing I could think of. I went to YouTube and searched for manually expressing breastmilk. Would YouTube allow that to be on? Thankfully, yes!
I'm searching, waiting for a video to come up and waiting for the pain to go away. Surely there was a much easier, less painful way to express a couple ounces from each side. And there was! Let me introduce you to the marmet technique! Why didn't I ever take a breastfeeding class? This would have been so helpful to know before all the pain I put myself through! Not to mention it was super easy and my wrists didn't hurt as bad. Actually, the pain was very dull. Though I don't want to ever have to do this again, I'm glad I did learn the right way to express. Now, all mother's I talk to in the future will know it's not like milking a cow at all. There is a right way and a wrong way.
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