Breastfeeding, Take Three

I know I still need to post a birth story.  It's coming, but I'm still working on processing everything mentally.  Until then, I'm going to post some post-birth stories.  I'm going to start with my experience with breastfeeding this time, because it wasn't what I was expecting.

Not much has been, really.  And I'm getting to the point where I think that's okay, but, as I said, I'm still processing.

I had many high expectations of what would come out of having a natural childbirth.  One of these was an easier time with breastfeeding than I had with the other two.  Not that I a particularly difficult time with either of them, but I figured after an unmedicated delivery, it would be even better.

First, there would be no medications in my system to keep me from being able to nurse right away, as happened with the Birdie's birth.  I wasn't able to nurse her until several hours later, after the medications wore off.

Second, there wouldn't be any medications in my Bumblebee's system, thus making her more alert than babies born during medicated deliveries.  She was very alert right away.  But, then again, so were the Birdie and the Imp.

Third, waiting for her to come on her own (instead of being induced) might - I speculated - help my milk come in faster.

Fourth, having natural oxytocin in my system instead of synthetic oxytocin might also help my milk come in faster.

But guess what?  There was one factor I didn't consider, and it was probably the most important one with relation to breastfeeding:  hydration.  It's quite possible that the things I listed above would have made my breastfeeding experience better...if I had kept myself hydrated.  But I didn't.  It never even occurred to me that I needed to.  After all, it was never that big of a deal with my other two.  Oh, I knew it was important, but I never went out of my way to make sure I stayed hydrated, and I had plenty of milk for both of them.

But guess what else I had with them:  IV hydration during labor.  Something I didn't want and didn't have during my labor with the Bumblebee.  I was pretty dehydrated afterwards, and I didn't do anything to take care of it.

And it made a big difference.  Huge.  So big that, for a couple of days, I didn't think I was going to be able to breastfeed my Bumblebee long-term.


Everything started off well.  Immediately after delivery, although I was pretty shell-shocked from what I'd just gone through, I was able to nurse my Bumblebee for about an hour and a half.  I was never pressured to hurry things up.  They let me stay there and nurse her until she was finished.

She was 7 lbs, 8.5 oz. when she was born.

She nursed well in the hospital, although it wasn't as frequently as it should have been.  I'd planned to have her room in with me the whole time, but I was exhausted that first night, so I asked them to take her to the nursery for a while.  They brought her to me when she seemed hungry, which meant she went for some fairly long stretches in between feedings - becaues newborns are sleepy like that.  I should have been feeding her every two hours, and I knew that, but I hadn't slept in more than 48 hours and I didn't have the willpower to choose nursing her over snatching a few hours of rest.

They weighed her that night around midnight, and she was 7 lbs, 5.3 oz.  We left that day, the 20th, so that was her discharge weight.

On the afternoon of the 21st, we went to the pediatrician for her first weight check.  Most breastfeeding moms are familiar with the horror of the weight check.  After a mostly sleepless night spent trying to figure out what in the world you can do to placate your newborn who will only sleep if you are holding her, which of course you are told you absolutely must not do, you stagger in to the pediatrician's office, only to have them tell you your baby has lost too much weight, or is on track to losing too much weight, and (if they are supportive) inform you that you and your baby are sleeping too much (What?  Seriously?) and that you should be waking up every two hours to feed her (if they aren't supportive, they start talking right away about supplementing with formula).

So, we had our first weight check.  Since this is our third baby, we really weren't too worried about it, especially since everything went really smoothly with the Imp.  He only lost about 7 oz. total - about 7% (the "danger cutoff" is 10%) - before he started gaining.  During our weight checks with the Birdie, Craig and I developed a bit of a tradition.  We'd choose a weight, and then we'd bet on whether she'd be over or under it.  Loser had to buy at Starbucks after the appointment.  So, on the way to the appointment, we joked about it, and settled on 7 lbs even.  If she was 7 or more, Craig won; if she was under 7 lbs, I won.

Except, of course, if she was under 7 lbs, I was really losing.  After all, the Imp never dropped below 6 lbs, and the Bumblebee was a pound heavier than he was - so I didn't really expect her to drop below 7.  Even though that's what I bet on, 'cause I'm pessimistic like that.

And, as it turned out, the pessimist in me won.  6 lbs, 14.2 oz.  Then, to make me feel even better about it, they had me nurse her in the exam room, then they weighed her again to see how much she gained with a feeding.  The result after I fed her?  6 lbs, 14.1 oz.  All right!  I actually must have sucked some milk back out of her!  Great job, Mommy!

Of course, the pediatrician's lactation consultant was ever-so-encouraging.  "If she drops below 6 lbs 12 oz, we'll be concerned, but I don't expect that to happen.  This is your third baby;  I'll bet your milk comes in in the next 24 hours."

Oh, yes.  I'll bet it does.  Just like, "This is your third baby.  I'll bet your labor goes fast."  And, "This is your third baby.  You're already at 6 cm - she'll be here in no time."  Also, "This is your third baby.  I'll bet she slides right out with you barely even having to push."

But I'm getting ahead of myself.  We'll get to that part in another post.

Back to the milk - have you guessed it?  Nope, as a matter of fact, it didn't come in "within the next 24 hours."  7/22 (Day 3), weight: 6 lbs, 13 oz.  Only one ounce lost away from, "Danger, danger, supplement NOW!"  As before, I nursed her, they weighed her again - and she was still 6 lbs, 13 oz.  I started to panic.  Someone remarked, "At least she didn't lose any [after being nursed]."  Ohhh, yes.  Thanks ever so much for that.  I started to cry.

7/23 - we went to the hospital for the weight check because we had some routine tests that needed to be run since we left the hospital early.  This time, we received a little bit of hope:  6 lbs, 14 oz.  I nursed her, and it actually went up - 6 lbs, 14.7 oz!  Not much of a gain, but I'd just nursed her shortly before we weighed her, so she'd already mostly drained me.  So this was somewhat encouraging, but the pessimist within reminded me that Craig and I are pretty sure that the scale at the pediatrician's office is not reliable - we think it's consistently low, so it was possible that 14 oz. on the hospital scale would still be 13 oz. on the pediatrician's scale.  However, it was enough to get us out of the weight check cycle.

7/25 - I'd been feeling pretty encouraged, but overnight, I accidentally went for about 5 hours without feeding her.  I should have been ready to explode, right?  Nope.  I barely felt full after that.  So I knew things were still not where they needed to be.  Completely discouraged, that evening, I spoke on the phone with my doula, who agreed that things didn't sound right and suggested I spend a few days of strictly nursing every two hours (or more often) and otherwise keeping the Bumblebee skin-to-skin with me and doing nothing else.  She also helped me realize I hadn't been drinking enough water to make up for the fact that I hadn't had IV hydration during delivery, so I was very dehydrated, which was probably the main reason my milk was being so stubborn about coming in.

Unfortunately, the timing of me needing to focus 100% on the Bee coincided with my mom going back home for a few days (she had been with us since the day before the Bumblebee was born);  fortunately, I have an amazingly supportive husband who never once questioned or argued about my need to do this, and took on either caring alone for our two small children or arranging for someone to help him out with them.  I was able to settle on the downstairs couch with my Bumblebee and three travel mugs that I kept full of water on Sunday evening and stay there or in bed with her constantly until Tuesday evening, with only a few breaks.

And guess what?  It seems to have worked.  On Wednesday morning (7/28, 9 days old) I had to take her to the pediatrician for an unrelated issue, but of course they weighed her.  I went in, half-fearful and half-hopeful.  This time, the hopeful side won out.  Weight:  7 lbs, 4.2 oz. - a gain of 6 oz since her last weight check, 5 days earlier.  Since the average rate of weight gain for a breastfed baby is 1 to 1.5 oz. a day, that was enough to let me know we were on the right track, finally.

What a relief.

We have a little over 4 oz. to go to get her back to her birth weight, so I expect she'll hit it by Monday, if not sooner.  Her next visit is on Monday (two weeks!  Wow!) so we'll find out then whether we made it or not.

Regardless, I've learned a very important lesson for next time, if I decide to have another natural birth:  drink way more water than I think I need, because my tendency is to not drink enough.  I guess this should be obvious, but since I was probably over-hydrated after my first two babies' births, it didn't matter nearly as much whether I drank enough during those early days (which, of course, I didn't, but as I said, it didn't matter).

So, now I know.  That's one item to go in the "Lessons Learned" list.

One of many.  Very, very many.  I'll get to those other ones soon.

Welcome Bumblebee!

Welcome to our Baby Bumblebee!

Born July 19, 2010 at 2:26 p.m.

7 lbs. 8.5 oz.

21 inches long

And, look!  She has hair!

Maybe "They" Were Right

If you've ever been pregnant, you know who "they" are.  "They" are those people with two eyes that work, a mouth that works, and a brain that doesn't.

Or, at least, their brains never quite seem to work when they're around a pregnant woman.

I'm talking about the ones who find out you're pregnant "again" and can't help questioning whether you really know how that happens.

The ones who take one look at you and ask you if you're sure it's not twins, even though you're well past the point where someone would have noticed if it were.

The ones who feel the need to point out that it's two days past your due date and you're still pregnant.

The ones who have to let you know how glad they are they're not you when they find out you're due somewhere between July and September, because you're going to be so miserable being pregnant in the hottest part of the summer.

(These same people, incidentally, also always seem to feel the need to say, "Well, at least you won't be really big during the hottest part of the summer," if you're due at any other time of the year.)

With the first, I just smile and nod.  Yes, we will have three children 3.5 and younger.  Yes, we know how that happens.  In fact, we meant for it to happen that way.  Yes, we might very well be insane.  But we're happy, too, so it works out in the end.  And if it doesn't, well, that's going to be my problem, isn't it?

I haven't had to deal with #2 and #3.  (In fact, I've gotten the opposite of #2, which just makes me feel a little like I might not be eating enough for my baby to grow properly.  Thanks.  Like I wasn't already neurotic.)  For item #3, I was induced before my due date with both of my (sweet) little toddler terrors, so I never had to deal with going past.  (For reasons mentioned in this post, I might be dealing with it this time, though.)

With #4, I, again, smile and nod, although I tend to roll my eyes a bit.  I mean, come on.  Hot is hot.  If it's hot out, I'm going to be miserable, regardless of whether or not I'm pregnant.  Being pregnant isn't going to make it worse.

Right?  Of course.

But...then again.

It has been hot lately.  We're talking 90+ degree weather and 70+ percent humidity.  Miserable no matter how you look at it...but.  I've noticed a few things.

For one, if I spend about five minutes out in the sun, I become useless.  My temper frays, I sweat all over, my brain starts to overheat, and somewhere, a "check engine" light comes on.

For another, by the end of the day, my feet resemble the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man as they try to ooze out of the tops of my shoes.  It is neither pretty nor pleasant.  For anyone.

And finally, I've actually found myself wanting to wear dresses and sandals.  Dresses and sandals.  Me.  (Sometimes I look in the mirror and wonder where I went.  And then I realize The Belly was just in my way, and I was right there behind it all along.)

So I've been wondering...were they right?  Is it really harder to deal with the heat and humidity when you're massively pregnant?  Or is it just that I can't handle much of anything right now that doesn't involve air conditioning, a cushy couch, and an ottoman?

I've been firmly convinced for so long that it doesn't matter whether you're pregnant or not, hot is hot and miserable is miserable, that it's difficult for me to even entertain the idea that it actually might make a difference.  But...I'm really starting to think that it does.

Does this mean I have to eat crow? (*)

If so, I'd better wait until after the Bumblebee is born, since it's probably on the list of Foods To Avoid During Pregnancy.  Or if it's not, it should be.

* Please excuse the wikipedia link, but I wanted to put that there since it's a fairly obscure saying now, and I didn't want anyone to think I was actually considering eating a crow.  That's just gross.

Au Naturel

I haven't posted about the Baby Bee in a while (or about anything, for that matter, but that's beside the point), so while I sit here waiting and dreading a couple of approaching thunderstorms, I'll see if I can organize my thoughts enough to say a few things.

First, about the baby.  Not much to say there...everything is normal, as far as anyone can tell.  I am just past 35 weeks, so only a little bit longer to go.  (For those who aren't used to counting pregnancies in weeks, I'm expecting her to be born between 39 and 41 weeks, so I have another 4-6 weeks to go.)

An aside.  Does anyone else still think of six weeks as a "grading period?"  A throwback to elementary school days.  We got our report cards every six weeks, and to this day, when I think of six weeks, I think of it as a "grading period."

But really, it's about a month-and-a-half, so that's what I've been telling people who ask me how much longer I have.

After doing quite a bit of research, I've decided I would like to have an unmedicated delivery.

What?  Really?  Me?

Yup.

Anyone who knows me will know that this is a surprise.  I've never been much of one for pain, and I've always been of the "if there's a good way to avoid it, then why the heck not?" mindset.

So how did I come to this startling decision?

It started out with a single motive:  to reduce my risk of a c-section.  No, I have never had one, and odds are, I'm a pretty good candidate for not having one in a future delivery.  But, every labor is different, and realistically speaking, it could still happen.  Since we are planning to have another little bundle within the next two years or so, God willing, a c-section with this one most likely would mean a repeat c-section with my fourth.

And scheduled c-sections don't make good stories.

At least, you hope they don't.  If they do, then it's probably not a good story, or at least not a pleasant one.

But if all goes well, and Mommy and Baby are healthy at the end, then it's likely not a good story.  And, oh yes, I thought of that.  In fact, that was my first reaction when the idea crossed my mind.  No, not a good reason, but there's a good reason that trumps it, even in my mind.  Three words for you:  Major Abdominal Surgery.

Don't get me wrong.  If it were a question of a c-section or my baby's health and safety, I'd take the c-section in a heartbeat.  But just because...?  (Just because my labor isn't progressing fast enough?  Just because I had one the last time?)  No, thank you.

My first decision was, in order to avoid the increased risk of a c-section, I'd skip the induction this time.  Inductions worked well with both of my others, but why take the chance?  As much as I love the doctor who delivered both of my babies (I scheduled so I could ensure she delivered them), I figured I could stand to wait it out this time.

And I was okay with that.  But I still planned the epidural.  After all, epidurals don't increase your risk of c-section, right?  Right?

But then I started stumbling across comments...birth stories...anecdotal evidence that maybe an epidural does increase your risk of c-section.  Stories of epidurals slowing down labor so much that the doctor orders on the pitocin, which leads to more interventions (some necessary, others possibly not), which eventually would lead to a c-section.

Really?  So I asked around a little, and found some literature, and did some research (admittedly secondhand - I just don't have the time to read the studies for myself at this point).  And there is actually quite a bit of evidence that an epidural can lead to an increased risk of c-section...and that it might not be best for Mommy and Baby in a vaginal delivery, either.

(Yes, I just used the word "vaginal."  Sorry, Dad, and any other men who might read this.  That's just how babies come out, at least 67% of the time.  Yes, you read that right, 67%.)

There are other reasons.  I know that the odds of the epidural slowing down labor enough to lead to a c/s in a third-time mom are fairly slim, but that was just where the research started, the tip of the iceberg, to use an overused cliche.  I'll get into some of the other reasons in a future post...but as I'm not trying to start a debate, I don't want to go into too much detail.  Just know that I have researched this, and I've found enough additional reasons to labor unmedicated that I feel very comfortable with my decision.

I'll admit, however, that I wasn't too happy about this at first.  I didn't want to skip the epidural.  I mean, hello?  Pain?  We are not friends.  We have never even been what you might call semi-close acquaintances.  But the more I looked into it, the more I felt convicted that that was the best route for me and for my baby.  It's not the best choice for everyone, but I feel clearly that it will be best for us.

So if I was going to do it, the next step was to figure out how to do it.  Which meant even more research.  And I learned that it's not always excruciatingly painful.  That it doesn't have to be scary...it really is a natural process!  Natural contracting and releasing of muscles, pulling up and out, to open up the...opening...(I'm trying, Dad) -- That doesn't sound nearly as frightening as I always imagined it.

I do realize it is usually painful, and I am not expecting it to be painless.  I know childbirth isn't easy, and it's not going to feel good.  I don't think I have any unrealistic expectations (but then again, who ever thinks they do?)  But I am trying to not have any specific expectations about how it is going to feel.  I'll plan on taking it as it comes.  I'm researching, and exercising, and preparing myself for what my body will go through, but trying not to have expectations beyond the knowledge that it is going to be a lot of hard work.

(Aaaaaaaand....the first storm is here.  It seems to have broken up a little bit as it hit the "Ohio River Triangle," where many storms seem to get lost, never to be seen again, but for the most part, this one made it through, and I'm going to try to remain calm until it passes.)

To my surprise, though (going back to the original discussion), I am finding that I am looking forward to the experience.  It didn't start out that way, and that was never and will never be my primary motivation. I'm not wanting to be one of those people who is "doing it just so I can say I can."  I think it's the best choice for me and my little Bumblebee, and I will continue to think that as long as no new, substantiated information comes along that tells me otherwise (specifically, from my caregiver; otherwise, I'm not going to change my mind).

There is a lot more to this story, but I realize this has gotten long and rambling.  I wasn't joking when I questioned my ability, at first, to organize my thoughts into something cohesive and coherent.  I think I've gotten my point across, but I think I could have said it much better, too.  So I apologize for that, and will try to put my thoughts in better order before I write the next installment.

(Incidentally, the storms are over now, unless something else pops up tonight.  The second storm that was headed our way pretty much did die on the Ohio River.  And I have no problem at all with that!)

Baby Bumblebee

I'm bringin' home a baby bumblebee...won't my mommy be so proud of me?

Well, we aren't bringing home our Baby Bumblebee quite yet, but we did get a look at her last Thursday.

And yes, I did say her.  We found out on Thursday that our Birdie and our Imp are getting a little sister!

The Birdie was quite excited when we told her Thursday afternoon, although not in the least surprised, which was, well, surprising, since we hadn't yet told her that she was getting a new little sibling.  Somehow, though, I think she just knew.

She was full of questions when she found out.  Remarkably intuitive questions, at least in my opinion.

"Is she in Mommy's tummy?"  (First thing she said when we told her.  I thought this would be a stumbling block - "Did Mommy eat the baby?" - but I guess she picked up somewhere on her own that babies grow in Mommies' tummies.)

"What's her name?"

"I'm going to sing her a song!"  And she got up and danced around the room, singing something about her sister and how Valentine's Day is her favorite holiday and a few other things that I couldn't understand.  It was precious.

Then, just as I was patting myself on the back for raising such an amazing little girl who understands everything there is to know without having to explain it, she asked, "Can I see her?"

And pretty much once a day since then, she will give Baby Bumblebee a hug, and ask if she's going to come out today.  We have to remind her that it will be a long time, still.  This morning, she told me that she wanted Baby Bumblebee to stay home when I went to work.  But I could leave, that was okay.

Ahhh, I'm feeling the love.

The Imp, by the way, is oblivious.  I'm sure he will remain blissfully unaware until the day that we bring home a tiny squalling thing that hogs Mommy for most of the day.  I'm curious interested apprehensive worried terrified to see how he reacts when Mommy acquires a new appendage (and it's not him).

But we are excited about our little girl on the way, who, incidentally, has existed in our minds and our hearts ever since we were expecting the Birdie and we came up with four names (two girls' names and two boys' names).  Yes, indeed.  When we were expecting baby #1, we decided on 4 names - a 1st choice girl's name, a 2nd choice girl's name*, a 1st choice boy's name, and a 2nd choice boy's name.  And when we came up with those names, all 4 of those babies became real people in my mind, even though three of them didn't exist yet, and at the time we didn't know "who" #1 was.  The #2 boy's name has changed a bit since we originally came up with the names, but none of the others did, and now I'm just as attached to that name (and that little boy) as I have been with each of the others.  So as long as #4 is a boy, everything will be perfect!

What?  You mean you can't plan it out like that?  Really?  Haha.  So far, we have been very lucky and it has worked out the way we "planned" (girl-boy-girl) - but if something doesn't go according to our plan...well, who are we to make plans, anyway?  (And we're already talking about another girl's name, just in case.)

Let's just try not to get too attached to this name, because we're really not planning a #5.

* Our #2 girl's name really was only 2nd choice in Craig's mind - honestly, I'd have been extremely disappointed if we hadn't gotten to use it, because it incorporates a special part of my name that my mom shares, too, so you can imagine how ecstatic I am now.

Irony (and some Big News)

I wanted to share some irony (and some news) with you.  I've been wanting to post about this for a while, but it's something that I expected to take a while to write, and I haven't had a lot of time to sit down and write, lately.  With both kids in their rooms, apparently napping (although I keep hearing noises from the Birdie, so this might not last long) I thought I'd give it a try.

My husband and I have been to Disney World three times since we got married.  The first trip down there was our "babymoon," which we took in May 2006, when I was in late 1st trimester with the Birdie.  It was fantastic, except for me being exhausted the whole time.  The. Whole. Time.  Most days (if I am remembering this correctly), Craig and I would go to the parks in the late morning, return in early afternoon, and I would take a nap while he would go back for a few hours.  Also, I couldn't ride any real rides.  I am a ride-a-holic, so that was pretty hard for me.  Worth it, but hard.

Our second trip was in January 2008.  We were spending a week in Daytona (a mistake, because there is almost NOTHING to do in Daytona, although we had a nice time anyway) and decided to take a day and go to Disney World.  My birthday, January 10, to be specific.  At that point, I was 18 weeks pregnant with the Imp, so we just took the Birdie to Epcot and walked a lot.  A lot.  But I wasn't exhausted anymore - that was a bonus.

After we left Disney World, on the ride back to Daytona, I started brainstorming.  We needed to make a trip to Disney when we could stay on the property and have lots of fun, preferably with friends and family there.  We thought November 2009 would be good timing, because November is a slow month at Disney, but the weather is still nice, the Birdie would not yet be three (kids under 3 get in free), and the Imp would be old enough to enjoy it, too (17 months).  We planned and schemed for the next year and a half.  We got my parents and Craig's parents on board and even got one of my good friends, Jaime, to join us there with her family, too.  We weren't able to stay on the property, but we were able to stay close enough that we may as well have been on property - for a lot less money.  It was perfect!

And I was very excited about the fact that I'd be at Disney World and not be pregnant.  I'd have plenty of energy.  I'd be able to ride the rides.  I'd be able to have a glass of wine here and there if I wanted to.

Oh yes.  I bet you can see where this is going.

I'm sure, at this point, it won't be much of a stretch for you to figure out what I discovered just two weeks before we were scheduled to leave.

That's right.  Baby #3 will be here in mid-July 2010.

(Yes, as a matter of fact, we do know how that happens.  But thanks for the offer, anyway.)

We were planning on trying for #3 when we got back from Disney World, so this really did not throw a wrench in anything (except maybe my plans to have a few drinks at Disney, but who needs that anyway?  Probably saved us some money!)  It just pushed things up one or two months.

So, we are very excited, and looking forward to meeting our new little one in just a few short months!