Yesterday was a good day. Morella ate every 3 hours-4 hours, all the day time feedings were with bare right breast and nipple shield left (I really wish she would learn to latch there) until the witching hour commenced. It seems to start earlier and earlier…it started last night around 8:00 and goes on until 12ish.

Well we needed to go grocery shopping and pick up some OTC medicine from Walgreen’s. I discovered, much to my discomfort yesterday, that I was given an antibiotic when Henu’s placenta was removed. I don’t know about you, but whenever I take an antibiotic, I also get a free yeast infection. :P Anyway. I wasn’t looking forward to shopping and getting dressed — one gets quite used to wearing pajama’s much of the time and never leaving the house. Tim suggested instead that I take Pluto on his walk. Huh. I hadn’t thought of that, but for some reason it seemed more doable than shopping.

So I walked Pluto. Exercise is supposed to help with the blues so off I went. It was scary how it took most of the walk for me to get over feeling anxious. Anxious about burdeoning Tim with the baby but only because of my rsponsiblity to feed her (even though we have bottles and I was working on teaching he to use it again). Anyway. I had told Tim earlier in the day that I hated feeding her. I dread it. I fills me with anxiety and I find myself finding ways to put it off. I don’t put it off though. I do it. But this great bonding experience is not here for me.

Sigh. Sometimes I think she gets enough but then there are times like last night — she drank the bottle — two full bottles (total 4 oz) even WITH breastfeeding later on. I mean, maybe the lactation person is right and I am just not giving her enough. I do notice though that when I pump I seem to be pumping less, I thought maybe that was a sign that we taking more — but maybe it’s a sign that I am starting to decrease? I don’t know. I am back on the full pumping schedule though.

Anxiety. One should not feel anxious about feeding their baby right? Not feel that cold dread of “oh fuck here we go again.” I wish she would latch on to the left breast …I wish I wasn’t so whiny about it. I think about Sarah’s Mom’s comment and wonder about how nice it would have been for our mother’s generation to not have to worry about this. Though I am sure there is probably a myriad of other problems that were experienced. No one ever said having a kid is easy.

I also feel like I don’t want to talk about it TOO much before people start thinking I have post partum depression. I don’t really. I mean I feel fine most of the time. I can even handle five hours of fussiness as long as I know she is getting fed (which is how it was last night).

I feel bad that I haven’t connected with Jen yet…she called again (thanks jen I appreciate the attempts) but Morella was a pill.

It all started this morning. I thought I would beat the leaking an get in a free pumping session by pumping in the middle of night and just take the advice to let Morella sleep the night through. I got up at 4 — pumped for only 8 minutes and was happily walking back to bed, quite pleased with myself when guess who was awake and hungry?

Gah. I know that another friend of mine said that I keep making milk. But I don’t make it fast enough to appease Morella yet — especially with her weak suck. We need that letdown for the breastfeeding session to work. So I gave her a bottle. She sucked it down and went right back to sleep. IT was awesome.

I got up this morning and she fed fine. Then at 12.30 I fed her and started …. an hour an half later I had been feeding her off and on, she was fussy and still acting like she was starving. At what point is enough enough? I decided that going past an hour and 20 minutes of solid breast feeding attempts was enough. So I made her a bottle. She drank the first one rather quickly, and then wanted more (completely heart breaking! I wasn’t giving her enough?!) I made another ounce with freshly pumped milke (after trying to offer the breast again) and discovered after another hour or so that she was mostly sucking for comfort and not much was getting drunk at all.

Time to reintroduce the pacifier I say. I guess it was a good thing Jen called at that point. Sh said her second son comfort sucked. Maybe that is what she needed. I tried the pacifer…nothing. Hm. Later on, I was carrying baby and walking through her room when I saw the Native Carrier that Zoey had sent to me. It’s a size medium which is just barely almost too small for me and Tim and if Bacon Bit grows a lot more it’s out. Thank goodness for the Maya wrap that Jen sent my way. They are like the exact same thing…anyway. I changed her diaper for the 4th time today ( all heavy wet diapers) and slipped her in, added the pacifier and BAM! Quiet baby. And I have my arms free to wander around and do stuff.

Right now I am sitting in the rocking chair. It’s nice …. But how long will this latest trick last? Hm.

Hm what else.

Oh night sweats. Man, they are brutal. I have been having them at least two times a night for the past week. I wake up drenched in sweat. I have to sit up or walk around a little to cool off. I even contemplated changing my jammies…but am usually too tired to do so. Hilary said that her night sweats with her first kid lasted a month.

Yikes. I hope that doesn’t last a month.

My brother called me this morning to ask how things were. He asked about the Mom comment regarding baby not enough to eat and how I asked her to not talk about it anymore…and had to repeat that request when I called again yesterday to my stepdad. I had called to see if Mom wanted to be on the phone while I opened the package she had sent me. Instead right away I got the third degree about baby not eating and finally I started to cry again and say “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He immediately told my Mom to not ask about the baby. :P

Oy. So brother Shane was calling to see how things were because you know I bet Mom and Frank just couldn’t shut up about how I am slowly starving Bacon Bit. I told him it was better and that I wasn’t mad at Mom, and all that jazz — I just didn’t need their negativity about this situation.

Listen to me ramble. I haven’t really had the desire to write in my journals lately. I mean, this journal — I have. Only because I can type faster than I hand write and it seems easier to get on and do this. I apologize if it’s become boring or tedious — but hey wasn’t it always like that?

I think I should take a shower, but Morella will be waking up soon wanting to exercise patience and frustration with me in another breastfeeding attempt.

I keep telling myself to make it to six weeks….make it to six weeks….you can do it. And “Next year at this time we won’t even be thinking about this. We’ll be decorating the house, making cookies, shopping and being all around excited for Christmas with a one year old.”

I did manage to finally order the newborn photo that the hospital takes of Morella. I am going to be sending those to close friends and family though – you know it’s the photo that we have all seen of our parents or of us when we were babies. I sort of like that tradition. :)

As for xmas cards…I really wanted to order some prints of Morella…maybe what I should do is whip up a document with some photos of her in it and just take it to Kinko’s for photocopying. I don’t know. Why do I think I have the time and energy to do that when I can’t barely brush my hair and put in my contacts?

Lastly, Morella is already such a different baby than last week. Not as sleepy. She has more awake time and is focusing on objects. I swear I heard laughter from her the other day — Tim said I was imagining it. Tonight we are going to attempt her first bath. Her eyes are still blue and I love it when she is ca
lm and looking around just exploring things. I DO stare at her for long periods of time — why not?

It still hasn’t really hit me that I am this girl’s Mom.

Tim has also been terrific and I honestly don’t know what I would do without him. I have renewed respect and admiration for all those single mom’s out there. I salute you.

What? You read this whole thing? For that I give you a pat on the back.

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