let’s just feed them, shall we?

Posted on | April 5, 2010 | 201 Comments

you ever see something on twitter or facebook that just irks you? if the answer is no, you either don’t have either of those or only associate with people who have all the same opinions as you. the 2nd isn’t likely. today i saw a few tweets about formula feeding that rubbed this mama the wrong way. i don’t really expect things like that to get to me anymore, seeing as how it’s been almost 6 months since H drank from a bottle, but i guess i was wrong.

before i start, i am in no way trying to start some formula vs. breastfeeding debate. i know the pros and cons of both, i’ve done both and am not creating a platform for anyone to hop on a tall pony. i’m not even on a tall pony. i don’t even own one (but omg i want a pony! actually a unicorn. a magic unicorn riding a narwhal).

since the person who tweeted the nonsense doesn’t even follow me i decided to spout my .02 and say my piece in 140. the reaction i received was overwhelming with other moms who had the same difficulties, the same guilt and the same feelings. it made me sad to see how many women had been judged for either their choice to use formula or their inability to breastfeed.

my ability to half smile so soon after screaming horrid profanities in a string i didn’t even know *I* could put together, astounds even me.

without telling you every last wretched detail of my attempts to give H the boob (because i’ve touched on this before, albeit a long time ago), i will say i tried until i could try no more. until after my 3rd visit with the lactation consultant, a lovely woman who tried just as hard, but couldn’t tell me H was getting anything after a half hour feeding and weighing. after a awful recovery, spinal headache from a bad epidural, and a stomach bug at 5 days postpartum. i pumped until i succumbed to the fact that if my pump was getting 1 ounce in 30 minutes, my sisters probably weren’t doing the job. HOURS spent pumping. HOURS spent feeding a baby who wasn’t getting squat. HOURS spent worrying, crying, feeling guilty, missing precious time with my new daughter (bonding? where?) and then MONTHS spent riddled with guilt every time i fed her a bottle. every time i saw another mother breastfeeding. i would hide the formula under things in my cart. feel awful when the checker would scan it. tell myself i was costing our family money because of my inability to make milk.

i know i’m not the only one.

i wanted to wear a shirt that said “I KNOW breast is best. LAY OFF ME I KNOW! i tried and it didn’t work OK SO STOP YOUR SIDE EYES BEFORE I STAB YOUR FACE!”. as the months went by, i felt better. as i realized it wasn’t the end of the world (an almost impossible thing for a new mom to grasp when breastfeeding was their only plan), i felt more secure and stopped caring. 17 months later i can say i never think about it (except on days like this when people say ignorant things). but once i let go of the guilt i was able to see how much bonding H and i were getting regardless of how i was feeding her. she was MUCH happier drinking from a bottle and i was at ease knowing she was getting what she needed. like a really great tweet i got in response today:

“I am in favor of feeding babies.”

sums it up pretty good, yes?

a huge part of my guilt was never thinking i’d use formula. i assumed breastfeeding would just work, and never even thought about it not working. i was just gonna do it. if i had read a blog or two at the time that gave honest info about it and that i shouldn’t feel terribly if it didn’t work, maybe my guilt wouldn’t had been as bad. for those weeks when i was breastfeeding, i felt Harper would be less of a person if i gave her formula. have a lower IQ, get sick more often, not be as close with me. i was wrong. LOOK AT HER. will i try to breastfeed with my next baby? you bet. will my husband have to drag me crying to the hospital to return the pump after 6 weeks of trying to squeeze myself into oblivion? absolutely not.

i look better without my guilt cape.

i have a friend who exclusively pumped because her supply was great but her baby tried to rip her nipples of at every feeding. you know what blew my mind? the way people reacted to that. telling her she should be feeding from the breast. how else would they bond? she needs that closeness, etc, etc, SHUDDUP. this kid is getting breastmilk and they still have something to say about how it’s getting in there? just wow, people! the part that makes me the most crazy about all this formula judgement? it’s all from women! where is the support ladies? the comraderie, the “we’re all in this together” stuff? i’m not saying let’s sing kumbayah and braid eathothers hair (although that would be nice, i like a good french braid), but for craps sake a little support of our sisters? sheesh.

if you see a person shaking up a bottle in public, try not to judge. maybe that person tried until they could try no more. maybe that person is married to a woman who hides formula under clothes at target and cries all night in guilt. maybe that person just wants to feed their baby. and if you’re pregnant, try as hard as you feel comfortable, but know if it doesn’t work, everything will be ok. i promise.

post summary: i’m pro-breastfeeding. i’m pro-formula feeding. i’m pro-feeding your baby. yep, that’s my boob.

stats and stuff.

Posted on | February 1, 2010 | 20 Comments

f i haven’t mentioned this before, i have 3 baby books for Harper. each of them have a few things filled out, because i like certain things about one and certain things about another. one actually has a page devoted to your baby’s first night of life. it has spaces for each and every time it woke up and what you did. ha. haha. HAHAHAHAHA. yeah, ok. ’cause that was gonna happen. don’t think H needs to fondly look back on how much percocet i took or number of times i made myself a giant maxi-pad/icepack/tucks/dermaplast diaper (or how many her dad made for me, for that matter).

so anywho, in order to have something to look at to someday complete said baby book(s), all of Harper’s stats go here each dr. visit. today we went to see dr. lavender. she was very impressed with Harper’s vocabulary and social skillz. she exclaimed when she came in that it just couldn’t be Harper’s 15 month appointment yet, it felt like she was just born. i know, right? le sigh.

here be the stats:

weight :: 20 lb 8 oz. – 10th %

height :: 29 inches – 10th%

noggin ::  18.75 inches – 90th %

in other words, she’s a contender for her own TLC show, but has a ginormous brain.  i was SO relieved to hear she gained some weight and grew taller because she didn’t grow at all between 9 and 12 months.

here is what H is up to these days:

• wearing size 3 diapers and size 9 – 12 month clothes.
• walking like a champ, and tries to run sometimes. this is not at all terrifying.
• eating all sorts of food. her finickiness has gotten so much better. her faves are garden burgers, cheese, bananas, whole wheat pancakes, peaches, annie’s mac&cheese, carrots and carrot juice.
• is completely drinking whole milk. no more formula.
• says a ton of words. says “hi” to everyone, answers “yeah” to questions, “alright!” when she’s excited, “dadee” to Scot (still doesn’t call me anything, but whatevs), “uh oh” when she drops something, and can still count to two but has seemed to have forgotten three.
• knows what things are. if you ask her to bring you a certain toy, she knows which it is, usually. also loves to share.
• gives awesome kisses and high-fives.
• sleeps like a mad woman. 7:30pm to usually 8am, though she has been known to sleep until 9:30 at times.
• is generally awesomesauce.

since she had to get shots today, the rest of the afternoon will be spent cuddling. although i will admit, she was over it waaaay sooner than i was.

quick, someone slap me.

Posted on | December 29, 2009 | 16 Comments

thought mayhaps a 2009 photo post was in order. i thought i could pick some cuties from the year, put them in order and share them with you, the fine interwebs. but alas, i have no patience, i am still tired from christmas, and OH YEAH, i tried and failed because i cried going through photos from 2009.

did you know i started the year with a 2 month old? a two month old. like, at this time last year it had only been 8 weeks since i graced the world with Harper’s presence (you’re welcome!). i was still sporting maternity jeans, gratuitously using nipple cream and probably still shaking cans of dermoplast (my bsff – best spray friend forever). looking through the photos made me want to do the unthinkable : immediately get pregnant again. like yesterday. like, i need to cuddle a tiny freshly baked wrinkly-leg-skinned newborn NOW. i give to you the following photographic evidence as the culprits for said fever breaking out:

the 6 hours after birth photo

i mean, look you guys! i did this. i can do it again, right? i made that little human and then pushed her out. nevermind my meatslab arms and 6 chins, they went away eventually and they will again! pay no mind that my lady parts were throbbing, that nursing bra was rubbing uncomfortably against my bleeding nipples and i was only sleeping because of ambien, I SHOULD HAVE ANOTHER BABY because look at her!

the daddy and baby napping photo

ok seriously? come on. if i squeed any louder i might squee right off a bridge. tiny sleeping babeh + handsome man you married + both sleeping peacefully = makes me want to cry. sidenote: these 2 photos might have been the only actual 2 times we slept.

the stripey dipey baby bum/tiny curled toes photo

oh hail no. you can’t expect anyone with ovaries to look at this and not want to immediately get impregnated. what are you doing baby feet? oh, just being tiny and fat and curly? and hey you, baby bum – who do you think you are? oh, just a stripey cushy little tushy? ok, carry on.

stupid idiot not-cute-at-all baby hat photo

warning : do not look directly at this photo. when i did, i got the sudden urge to eat celery, buy a huge bottle of cocoabutter and map out all baskin robins locations within a 10 mile radius in order to be prepared for pregnancy numero dos. the combination of weird monster-animal shirt, sweater hat with ears and braided flaps, and doe-eyed nugget will have you running to rite-aid to pick up some ovulation kits at 1am. danger danger danger.

operation 2009 photo post = fail. NOT going to happen. not only is my blog not big enough for all the adorable photos i’d need to use to celebrate the year that was, i just don’t think it would be appropriate for my husband to wake up to me making a necklace of Harper’s baby booties or poking holes in things i shouldn’t be. just not a good end to the year, you know?

friendship tuesday.

Posted on | December 9, 2009 | 11 Comments

ave you ever seen anyone give birth? i have. and lets just say you have to be pretty special to be allowed to see something so important and personal. and equally, you must reallllly like someone to allow them watch you give birth. which is why my friend Emily saw Harper come into the world and i got to watch her little lady, Poppy, being born 5 months later. there is an unspoken trust between you and someone who has seen your lady bits. modesty flies out the window. i remember a few days after H was born, Emily was sitting on my couch and my milk had just come in. my nipples resembled ground beef from my monster child (sorry family) and i was in shock at the size of my hoohaas. even though i was enjoying a vicodin/800mg ibuprofin cocktail, i do specifically remember just unclasping my nursing tank and letting the girls loose while exclaiming “look at my boobs!” and we both pointed and laughed hysterically at the misfortune that was my chest.

months later as we visited Em, David and just days old Poppy, the guys had to leave the room so Em could breastfeed. David asked “do you want Mandy to leave, too?” and Emily said “Mandy has seen my b-hole, so no”.

as i’ve posted before, we used to get together every single friday before the girls came along. and although we try to keep up a weekly get together, the past few months have been crazy for all parties involved (new jobs, lost jobs, swine flu [David and Harper], croup [Poppy] and tons of colds [um, all of us really]) and before we knew it, it had been WAY too long since we’d seen eachother. but today, finally, us girls had a playdate. ::happy dance::

we joked about how we should have made a list about all the things we needed to talk about. but really, we should have. but luckily we have a constant topic : how we’ve managed to make such cute, quirky babies.