Our Journey Through the Torments of Feeding

Let me preface this whole business with a little disclaimer (mostly because I really don't want/need any shit from anyone). Breastfeeding is a tremendously personal decision. It's really between you and your babe (and maybe your husband, if you have that kind of relationship) and everyone else should just butt the eff out! Obviously, breast is best. Custom made is always gonna be the better option...except when it isn't. I'm not here to preach one philosophy over another, I'm just here to share my experience. If you are a new mom reading this, please choose what will be right for you and best for your babe, and don't buy into all the guilt trips out there. This is the story of our journey.  

Lately I've been given a lot of praise for keeping up with the breastfeeding for as long as I did, which was about 3 months and change. Trust me, though, I'm no hero. It was in the plan to nurse for only 4-6 weeks, reaping the weight loss benefits for me (yes, I am that vain!) and the health benefits for her. And then we would move Z to formula and I could get on with my life. But then we found out about her tethered cord and the fact that our tiny babe would need surgery (You can read more about that here and here). Something in me changed and I became obsessed with making this whole breastfeeding business work until after she recovered sometime in July. I. must. be. insane. 

I know there are so many amazing mommies out there who happily nurse their little ladies and gents well past the one year mark. And while I'm not sure how their boobies can handle that, I commend them. I am not one of them. Most of us aren't, something I've learned in the last few weeks as so many of you have reached out to me and shared. As a new mom, you are given the impression that everyone is nursing to at least six or eight months. Bullshit. Most of us are lucky to last to six or eight weeks, with the average, I've learned, being about a month. And yet we all are made to feel like a total failure for wanting to give it up.

I was ready to quit sometime around day three. Because Z was transferred to a NICU in a different hospital so shortly after her birth, we missed so much of that wonderful skin-to-skin bonding time that helps a mother's milk come in. I was able to successfully nurse Z two or three times on her birthday, giving her that nutritious colostrum. But then they took her and my mammary struggles began. We lost our mojo. She had latched so easily in the hospital but was now over it since the bottles given by the NICU nurses were so much easier to manipulate.

After bringing Z home, I tried and tried to nurse her. I'd end up ugly crying out of frustration and overwhelmed by feelings of failure. She wouldn't latch and my milk wouldn't come in. I did skin-to-skin, nursed in our calm and quiet bedroom or her nursery, drank gallons of water, listened to soothing music, watched TV…whatever I could do, I did. I turned to Dr. Google (huge mistake) only to find that the majority of resources out there flat out said that it was my fault that things just weren't working. Cuz what a hormonal, sleep-deprived mother of a newborn really needs is a punch in the gut (or boob) like that.

We finally met with the lactation consultant at the hospital. She showed me how to get the right latch and there may have been a nipple shield involved. That did the trick. She also let me know that I was doing everything right and that these things sometimes take time. So we kept trying, but it was still painful, even with the right latch. The Hubs kept trying to talk me into giving up. It was overwhelming for him to see me so upset all of the time. But giving up is something I just don't do. I became crazed determined to nurse my child. A year ago, I would have laughed in your face if you'd told me this was who I would become. 

After a few weeks or so, things started to take a turn, actually a complete 180. My milk came in…by the gallon. Z would choke and splutter, and had the worst digestive issues and gas. She was constantly screaming fussing and crying because she was so uncomfortable, and I was constantly crying because it was my fault. I found out that I had an overactive letdown, too much milk too fast. So I tried all the tricks to make it better, but nothing helped. With complete support and encouragement from the Hubs, and after weeks of struggling, I finally caved and made the decision to pump exclusively. It was a surprisingly easy decision. I had never really felt that zen mother-baby bonding connection that so many talk about while nursing. Probably because I was in constant pain and was just counting the minutes until she was done. Her evening cluster-feeds were the absolute worst. The whole point of this mess was to pass on whatever I could to Z to give her the best chance at a quick and healthy recovery from surgery. 

OK. So here's what no one tells you…using a breast pump is like hooking up a Dyson to your nipples. Sure, it's fine if you do it once or twice a day. But I had to do it every time she ate. I quickly began to hate it. I could hear the Medela pump saying "You gotta pump. You gotta pump." over and over again, mocking me -- the little bitch. And while I secretly enjoyed watching House Hunters at 3am, pumping began to take over my life. I had to feed Z and immediately find a way to get her to sleep (or stay happy in the swing) so I could pump, and then I had to wash all the pump parts, only to do it all over again a couple of hours later. It never worked and I felt like I was missing out on so much time with my babe. The Hubs and I came up with a great overnight routine, but during the day I was on my own. Our nights looked like this:

Z wakes up.

I whisk her to her room for a diaper change while the Hubs preps the bottle.

I turn on quiet music and put on her bib while the Hubs waits for the bottle to warm.

The Hubs feeds her in our room while I pump in the living room and watch House Hunters (or reruns of Arrested Development). 

The Hubs put Z back to bed while I wash the bottle and a zillion pump parts.

We all go back to bed.

Rinse and repeat two hours later.

It moved like clockwork. The Hubs got some quiet bonding time with the babe, and I was catching up on my HGTV. Most nights, we were up and done in thirty minutes or less.

I ended up pumping less often, but because I was producing so much, we always had plenty of milk for bottles and for the freezer. But Z's gas, fussing, and digestive pains didn't stop, even with gripe water and gas drops. So, I began the dreaded elimination diet. I started with dairy. My beloved friend. This was almost painful to give up and would take two or three weeks before we could even tell if it made a difference, which it did, but only slightly. Next to go were broccoli, bell peppers, onions, lettuce, spicy foods. I cut back on OJ, tomatoes, and most beans and vegetables (super tricky as a vegetarian), but drew the line at strawberries. The Hubs and I struggled to come up with ideas for dinner and I started eating PB & J like it was my job. I was running out of healthy things to eat! 

When I had pumped and frozen enough milk to begin the weaning process, I blissfully quit pumping. By this point, I was ready to throw the damned thing in the pool! My last vacuum suck was the morning of my birthday a few weeks ago. About a week before, I had started increasing the time between pumpings until I was down to twice a day. At that point, I was still pumping about 16 oz of milk, which is a lot, and I knew that could go on forever if I didn't put an end to it.  The Hubs picked up a head of cabbage and I happily started stuffing my sports bra. Cold cabbage may be the greatest thing on Earth, even if it was the only thing I could smell all day long. Within a week, my poisonous milk (as we jokingly called it) had dried out. Hallelujah! 

When I was finally done with pumping, I made a bee line for the FroYo!

We slowly started adding formula to Z's bottles, one half ounce at a time for a few days each. Because she has such a sensitive system, we thought easing her into it would be best. As of a few nights ago, she is done with mommy's poison. I'm hoping we'll get lucky and won't have to try a bunch of different formulas. This one, special for gas and fussiness due to lactose sensitivities, seems to be working, though it's really too soon to tell. I will say that the first night that she had just a half ounce mixed into her bottle, she slept for 8 hours straight. Now she averages between 9 and 11 hours a night, though not every night. I can also say that on the first full day of formula only, she and I survived a trip to the mall (complete with time in the dressing room) and Wal-Mart (which is a nightmare on a good day even without Z in tow) with complete success. She didn't sleep a wink the entire trip and was all smiles to anyone who would glance in her direction. It could just be that she is maturing, but I really wish that I had given up on breastfeeding so much sooner.

If I'm being totally honest, I still feel a little guilt for failing at the whole breast feeding business. I shouldn't. I'm sure most women have struggles with some part of the process. My biggest issue, though, is that almost every resource out there pushes nursing like it's the one and only option. Even our pediatrician's office gave us the "We strongly recommend the mothers of our patients breastfeed for as long as possible" B.S. when I called to ask about switching to formula. Yes, women have been doing it since always, but 200 years ago, if a mother had issues, their sweet babes didn't survive. We are so lucky to be raising children in modern times...there are so many options!  And, as mommies, we should support each other, no matter which path we choose...without preaching or judgement!

I love this sweet lady more than I ever thought I could. And when it really comes down to it, that's the most important thing.

Month Three Must-Haves

It's so amazing that another month has flown by! It has been so much fun watching Baby Tuna grow and change this month. And, as much as I would love for her to have stayed a snuggly little newborn, I'm loving the goofy personality that has been emerging in the last few weeks. Here's some of our favorites from the last month.

1. Aden & Anais Sleep Sack: Now that the babe is sleeping flat, and grabbing everything she can get her hands on and pulling it up to her face, we put her in a sleep sack every night. We have a few different kinds, but the Aden & Anais are my favorite. Same lightweight muslin as the blankets, and they are longer than the other brands, which is perfect for Baby Tuna and her restless limbs.

2. O-Ball: I saw this in the bin at Target and thought it looked like something baby girl would have fun trying to put in her mouth (cuz, let's face it, from now on, EVERYTHING is going in her mouth!). And, well, the only negative I can come up with is that both the babe and the pup like to put it in their mouths. Let's just say that it's spent some time in the dishwasher!

3. Ring o' Links: This is perfect for the new grabber in the family. This toy was the first solid object Zoey could wrap her little fingers around. We always keep this close by, hooked to the carseat, thrown in the diaper bag, on the floor for tummy time. It's definitely a favorite!

4. Tommee Tippee Bibs: My kid might be the world's messiest eater. We go through A LOT of bibs. These are great because they have a ring around the collar that absorbs all of the dribbles.

5. Goodnight Moon: A childhood bedtime staple.

6. Petunia Pickle Bottom Diaper Bag: We must have looked at a zillion diaper bags. The perfect one had to be cute, but not too cute. It couldn't be too girly, or too big. And since I thrive on organization, pockets and compartments were a must. This bag checks off all of those, and it hangs nicely off the handlebar of the stroller with special clips.

7. Prince Lionheart BebePOD: So much cuter than the Bumbo, and with better leg openings for those chubby little baby thighs. We chose the watermelon, but it also comes in kiwi and orange slice, too. I first put Baby Tuna in this about a month ago, and she loooved it! Our kiddo is so ready to sit up on her own, so she loves being in her big girl chair.


And now...

Baby Tuna's Medical Update

A few of you guys have asked about Zoey's medical situation. As most know, she was born with a sacral dimple and a tethered cord. There's a chance that the cord issue may be hereditary, possibly passed down from my side of the gene pool (as far as I know, I don't have it). You can read about her trip to the NICU here.

On Monday, the babe had her second MRI, in preparation for surgery next month. Because her first one was done while she was in the NICU, we were not involved. This one was kind of an awful experience. We weren't able to feed her for six hours before her 7:30am appointment. That meant we had to wake her up at 12:30am and make sure our sleepy babe downed a full bottle. In the end, she went about 10 hours without food... at three months old! Zoey was such a champ. She was chirpy and happy right up to the moment when they started sticking needles in her. 

First, they fed her a pink liquid to help her stay asleep during the MRI. Then, the very sweet nurse went on the hunt for a vein. Zoey's doctor needed a contrast MRI, which meant that some kind of dye needed to be injected. To do this, they had to set up a port, which was impossible because the kid was so dehydrated. She tried both feet and twice in one hand, leaving horrible bruises behind. And while the nurse (whose ass I was ready to beat by this point) was poking and prodding my baby girl, Zoey was screaming her face off while half asleep from the medication. I was bent down, with my face next to hers, humming You Are My Sunshine as the Hubs stroked her sweaty forehead. I'm not sure how either of us kept it together. It was total hell and it felt like it went on for an hour.

Next came the MRI, which is something I've been lucky enough to have never needed in my life. I laid Zoey down on the table and watched as they strapped my precious girl down (perhaps the source of her hatred of swaddling and restraints in the carseat?). The Hubs and I were allowed to sit in the room with her, and the nurse handed us each earplugs before she left. Now, I knew that these things were noisy, but I was not prepared for just how noisy it was. I have sensitive ears, something that's a bit if a joke in my family. Even with the earplugs, there were moments during the hour-long test that I was hurting. I'm still wondering if Zoey had some sort of ear protection...something to find out before the next one. You'd think, with all the technology happening in this world, someone could create a quieter MRI machine. Good lord!

When it was over, the babe slowly woke up and we were able to feed her, and all was right with our little world. Next we headed to the ultrasound lab to have one done of Zoey's hips. On top of everything else, there is also a small chance she could have hip dysplasia, which I didn't even know people could get. None of us really think she has it, but someone in the NICU did and now we have to follow up. We'll get the results on that during her 4 month check up with the pediatrician.

Finally we were done with St. Mary's for the day, but we still had one obstacle to overcome. During the MRI, a horrible gully-washer of a storm had hit. The rain was so heavy, we could hear it hitting the roof with our earplugs in! It hadn't let up by the time we were ready to get the hell out of there, so it made things a bit difficult. Something else that made things difficult, the Hubs had parked in a section of the lot that was at an angle, causing a flash flood under the front half of my car. He ran out in the deluge, climbed in the back and somehow got his 6'4" body into the drivers seat!

This poor kid was zonked after her MRI!

On Tuesday, we met with Zoey's neurosurgeon to review the MRI results. I won't lie, I was secretly hoping that the issue had corrected itself, sparing her from having spinal cord surgery. No such luck. In fact, the problem has grown and developed as Zoey has grown.

For those who are not familiar with a tethered cord, the short and simple explanation is this: the spinal cord extends farther down the spine than it is supposed to, and is abnormally attached to the tissue around the base of the spine. In Zoey's case, there's also a fatty mass that surrounds the base of the cord. Because of all this, the spinal cord can't move as Zoey grows, leading to nerve damage, bowel and bladder problems, and mobility issues. There is a chance that she could grow up and never experience a single problem. In fact, Olympic hurdler LoLo Jones found out that she had a tethered cord a few years ago when she started missing hurdles and later had difficulty walking. She had the surgery and went on to compete in the London games. She didn't medal, but the point is that she competed. And in my opinion, fourth place ain't that bad!

When Zoey has her surgery next month (we're still waiting for it to be scheduled), her pediatric neurosurgeon will also be working with a plastic surgeon. It will be his job to remove the sacral dimple above her butt crack (there really is no classy way of saying that) as he stitches her up, ensuring that she will be bikini ready for the end of summer. 

The prognosis is very good, Zoey's doctors are among the best in the field, and our baby girl is one tough cookie. Apparently, this is more common than I ever knew, as evidenced by the number of you who reached out to tell me that you knew someone whose child had gone through this. Of course, there's a chance that her cord will re-tether as she goes through growth spurts, but she will have periodic MRIs to check on it. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. 

Don't let my optimism and matter-of-factness fool you...I'm terrified. We both are. But you can't live in the fear. I know that there are so many moms out there, some of you guys even, whose babes have issues that aren't fixable. Zoey's is. And provided that the surgery goes as planned, she will hit all of her milestones, ride a bike, kick a soccer ball, swim, and dance. We have total faith in the doctors and their teams, and in our baby girl, who is 100% healthy in spite of this little blip. (See how I play it down? Coping mechanism.) But even so, we ask that you say a prayer, light a candle, wish on a star, plant a tree, whatever it is you do in this kind of situation. And on my end, I'll keep you posted and promise to continue to bombard you with photos of the Baby Tuna every week, whether you like it or not!