Baby T is here!

We think all it took for Baby T to want to come was a trip to the hospital. My niece broke her arm and we went to the hospital to see her, and less than 24 hours later, my water broke.
I guess he just needed to see that hospitals weren't bad places to go.

He arrived at 12:37 p.m. and surprisingly, his delivery took longer than his big sister's. M came in 3 hours, 56 minutes. Baby T came in 5 hours, 47 minutes, although I think he might've come sooner if the nurse had checked dilation a little sooner. I'm not complaining though—I know many moms labor a lot longer.
There was no waiting for an epidural this time. With M I was 7 cm along before the epidural; I was about 5 cm dilated when I got to the hospital (I dilate fast, what can I say? Besides Thank God!) and there was no waiting. Anesthesiologist was there making jokes about my back artwork and my husband was being entertained watching the huge needle enter my back. Funniest thing for me was the doctor telling Matt he could watch but he had to watch while seated. I bet he's deflated a lot of male egos...
So what an easy labor! And I pushed for less than 40 minutes, also another blessing. Our little bundle of boy was 8 pounds 1 ounce, 19.5 inches. And now, he's already 16 days old!!

I'm hoping other mothers experience the same thing, but I have a big case of I-forgot-what-a-newborn-is-like-and-does-itis. It's funny looking at your 25 pound toddler and then almost falling because the 8-pounder is so much lighter that you used too much momentum on the pick up.
I had to ask the doctor how much spit up is too much spit up. Wouldn't a mom already know this? Not really!! For all I can remember, M never spit up!
And all that talk about boys being better/worse/different than girls? TRUTH.
Baby T is not falling for the schedule thing. He's a hungry little man, and he's been defying medical convention that a newborn can only hold about 2 ounces—he's done 4 at the most (and kept the majority of it down!). He's lanky and long compared to M, who almost immediately became my little chubbsters. He was impossible to keep dry for the first week and a half because I was scared to manipulate his private part too much and thus, pee went all out the back and sides instead of into the diaper (I have never done as much laundry as the past two weeks!).
But he is a phenomenally sweet and happy baby, with very little to fuss about unless Mom is sleeping too well and he's hungry. I am so thankful for that!

As for big sister, she loves Titus. She just doesn't love that things have changed, and there's some attitude happening. Who can blame her, it's a big adjustment!

Sprinkles! Everywhere!

It happened yesterday—the blonde moment I started this blog for. Baby M saw the big container of sprinkles (you know the ones you get from Walmart/Target with multiple types of sprinkles all in one with individual spouts) on the table.
Well, she had been a little fussy (up up up!) and I was trying to get laundry from the washer to the dryer. So it was easy to give her the container. Less than two minutes later, sprinkles decorated my living room.

Silence really means a lot when you have a toddler. I can't even be mad—I gave it to her, didn't I? C'mon, blonde, you should've seen that coming. On the other hand, I've learned that having a content toddler sometimes makes for serious messes, and now she's old enough to enjoy the cleaning up part!
{Lucky for me, only one section of sprinkles was dumped on the floor, meaning I still have plenty of sprinkles for the Christmas cookie baking}
There have been other moments lately... Trying to wrap a Christmas present while M was awake and in the "helping" mood; teaching her to feed the dog (the dog is always hungry now, or whenever M sees the closet door, but this one gets put on Daddy); leaving the fish food on a level she can now reach on tippy-toes and thinking she can't quite unscrew lids, WRONG! In fact I have a similar iPhone pic of her with all the fish food spread out in that same location while the dog happily licks away.
At least the sprinkles are edible for her...

Yes I'm showing! or, yes, I'm showing...

I'm pushing toward 21 weeks pregnant now. There have been two responses that are driving me crazy:
1. "Oh, you couldn't tell it." This from an older gentleman at my part-time job who I don't see often. He's a nice guy, really, but I want to punch him in the face. Because at this point in my pregnancy, telling me that I don't look pregnant sounds to me like "You are really fat."
2. "Oh, you look great, you're glowing." This one maybe doesn't drive me crazy but since I feel like I look like crap and I definitely don't feel like I'm glowing, it makes me a little nuts. It's easy to respond with a "Thanks!" but when you're walking around, constantly hiking up the belly band and adjusting your jeans, "great" is not an adjective you'd use to describe yourself.

It's only logical that this pregnancy would be different. I didn't show with Baby M until I was about 6 months along, and my belly popped out at 16 weeks with this little one {a BOY!}. I didn't even post a "belly pic" until I was 28 weeks!
I'm going to get real here: This does not excite me. I would be much more satisfied if my belly was displaying the adorable roundness that other (thinner) moms display so freakishly.
The reality is the only reason my belly is popping out is the extra pregnancy pounds I never lost from M and probably added on to those extra pounds that I had before I was pregnant, ever. Bah, humbug.
My dear friend said to me at one point during my first pregnancy that I was the only one she knew who was worried about weight gain during pregnancy. Well, let me put it this way: Those L-Bs don't come off easy and I knew/know that should the weight I gain be the right amount, shedding it shouldn't be difficult. Shut up already, "What to Expect When You're Expecting" e-mails!
Who really wants to chow down on spinach and carrots, every. single. day.?!
So to get back that feeling of "great", I have to primp. I choose to wear cute shoes or lipstick or something that makes me feel like some random person who fleetingly looks at me in Costco isn't looking because they're trying to figure out if I'm pregnant or well rounded (ha). Yes, I am wearing a bright shade of pink on my lips, thank you very much! Bright, isn't it?! feels nicer than Stop looking at me because you can't figure it out! At least ask if you're that interested!
Because I know we all have these moments while pregnant.  

...

Right?

Here's my get-the-heck-over-it pic. I never feel more 17 than when I'm snapping my own picture in a mirror. Which happens never. Except today.

Generic vs. Brand, or when to be cheap

What's your preference, generic or brand? Does it matter on the product? Here's my lists.

Baby products
Baby powder: Brand. Johnson's Baby powder smells better, enough said.
Baby shampoo: Generic. Parent's Choice or the Target generic works just as well.
Baby bottom ointment: This one is a brand vs. brand for me, and Desitin is just plain stinky and hard to get off your fingers, and Boudreaux's Baby Butt Paste (click the link and laugh at the site address!) doesn't reek and wipes off easier. Winner!
Diapers: I can't really argue here because I've had M in Huggies since I ran out of baby shower gift diapers and the hospital Pampers. They've been the same price as Costco generics, and I like them. No contest here.
Lotion: I'm totally undecided here. Johnson's smells nice but generic lotion isn't bad either.
Wipes: Generic. I buy them in bulk and they're big enough that I can rip them in half to use less of them. (Yes, I actually do that.)
Baby lotion: Generic. Unless you're attached to the smell of Johnson's, it's all the same. Plus, the hubby won't whine that he smells like a girl after putting lotion on baby.
Baby formula (if necessary): Generic. We bought Similac at first but when Costco's Kirkland brand is a full $12 less, it made more sense. I dare you to find one difference between M and a kid on Enfamil or Similac (or breast milk). I will add: I tried Gerber's formula and was incredibly displeased with it, so that's a "don't buy" for me.
Baby food: This one's tough; all I ever bought as far as stage foods was Gerber or Beechnut, and M didn't display any preferences or dislikes. So save the money and buy what's cheap.

Groceries
Peanut butter: JIF! Every time and for always. Does anyone actually consider any alternatives?!
Jelly: Generic. Smuckers is good and all, but Walmart's generic is decent. Caveat: Target's generic sucks!
Bread: I wish I could buy generic, but I go brand. It's just better.
Pasta: Generic. I really like Walmart's wheat noodles.
Spaghetti sauce:  I buy Hunt's, which is cheaper than the the store brand most of the time. It's also not too bad to eat.
Cheese: Generic. I think it'd be tough to find a difference between brand and generic here!
Butter: Stick butter—generic. Fake butter—Country Crock!
Flour/sugar: Generic! Another one that's hard to tell the difference.
Soup: If it's a cooking soup, generic. If it's for lunch, I like Progresso.

Mmm, banana bread. The only way I eat bananas.

So what's your list? Share it with me! What can't you live without and what gets put in the cheap list? 

Don't talk to me about food!

Here's what nausea during pregnancy for me is like:
Think of food, feel nauseous. Food commercials? Change the channel! Hubby wants to tell you about the great burger he had at a lunch meeting? Leave the room in mid sentence, leaving him wondering why you're being so rude. Try to come up with ideas for dinner... and end up making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when hubby gets home because the thought of anything else prompted queasiness.
Eat food without thinking about what you're doing, and I survive—but do you know how hard that is?
I also do a lot of frequent snacking. Of course, I'm not complaining, because throwing up is a rare thing for me and I'm thankful, but I will be happy when the nausea stage passes.
In fact, I have never in my life been so impatient for winter, my least favorite season, to be here! This comes in a combination of 95% joy for the new baby and 5% really, really wanting to lose every pound of baby weight. Shallow? Maybe. But I was doing pretty good on the weight-loss thing, and when we discovered that Baby No. 2 was on its way, it was put on pause.
Back to the nausea: At least when mine ends my husband will get regular dinners again. It seems quite unfair that he gets to put together scrap meals because I have a pregnancy-induced hatred of steak, hamburger and cooking, but then I remember it's partly his fault I'm like this, and I don't feel sorry any more!

:)

{On a side note, I just learned the hard way why trying to coax a tired toddler into a nap by putting her on the futon with the dog is dumb... You figure it out. Bad mommy.}

You know you're a parent (especially of a girl) when: Seeing teenagers at any store sends you into "I would never let my daughter wear that!" rampage.

Birthday and breaking the news!

The past few weeks, I've been trying a variety of different ways to do something cute to announce that Matt and I are expecting our second child. There are so many cute things on Pinterest, I thought for sure I could do something as cute.
Well, the attempt has so far failed, but not for lack of trying. First I was going to do witty quotes on scrapbook paper, but I couldn't think of anything good for Matt. Then I was just going to do us holding our birthdays, because this new baby will be the only winter birthday in our little family, but M had absolutely no interest in her sign. She was far more interested in everything else she saw around our yard, like her slide, or the dog, or grass, or... You get the picture.
Then, there was having time to do a photo with Matt. When he was home, though, I usually was at work or we were busy doing something important. So then I thought, why not something like just the shoes we wear as an announcement? So I took a photo of my boots as a start.

But then I realized that since we don't know the gender yet (I'm only about 10 weeks) and I have no gender-neutral baby shoes, what would I do for the new baby? Maybe I over think things, yes?

So today is my birthday, and I thought I may as well spill the beans for everyone so that 1. I can talk about the pregnancy symptoms (hello, nausea, I did not miss you) and 2. It is rather ironic that for two birthdays in a row, I will be pregnant. I sense upcoming trials (two kids under two?! A little intimidating!) but God's timing is perfect, so I know that He has something in store for us all. 

Blessings!

Breastfeeding and pools

All right, mommas. I bring it up because it's happened at a pool I was guarding once and my lil' sister still guards, and had it happen today to her. You want to breastfeed in public? Fine. You want to breastfeed in a pool? Get outta town.
I want to point out something that I don't believe the Crusader Moms (any mom who finds a cause, no matter how absurd, and starts protests, wages war and generally causes a ruckus) think about: It is unsanitary for YOUR CHILD to nurse in a pool. Do you know what's in a pool, besides chlorine? Urine. Fecal material. Skin cells. Food particles from the snack you let your older kids have 30 minutes before swimming. If it's an outdoor pool: bugs, grass, sunscreen residue, sweat. There's a good chance another kid might've puked a little of his lunch up and not told anyone. Most people don't shower before getting in, especially those old men who just sat in the sauna for 20 minutes and need to cool off.
Do you really want the privilege of nursing your child in that?
Chlorine makes water safe to SWIM in. It does not make it an appropriate place to feed a child whose immune system is not as strong as yours. And believe me when I say, the pristine pools you see the Olympians swimming in is not your local public or neighborhood private pool.
Yes, mothers have the right to breastfeed where they want in Colorado. That doesn't make it right to breastfeed in a pool!
I won't even bring up the bodily fluid argument because it's a moot point, there are all sorts of nasty bodily fluids floating in that water. If you care about your infant, you will take the time to get out of the pool, wrap him/her in a nice fluffy towel and breastfeed on the sidelines. Oh, and it's probably not a bad idea to give the older kids a break, too, because children get tired in the water and it's better to be safe than sorry with your children!
Clearly, this debacle has become the vocal minority overruling the quiet majority—a majority of women don't feel the need breastfeed while in the pool, but that Crusader Mom and her group of "Human Rights" mommy minions have blown this whole thing out of proportion.
Crusader Mom seems to not care that others may be offended by her actions, and that attitude is harmful and blinding. All she sees are her "rights" while forgetting the those around her have rights, too. And typically she vents her opinions on a hapless lifeguard who only wanted to enforce the rules so that everyone at the pool is comfortable, safe and happy. (Side note: Stop taking out your issues on lifeguards. It's not nice.)
If you search for "breastfeeding in public pools" you find a lot of stories, and most of them end with pool management acquiescing to Crusader Mom. You'll also find a lot of forums where the question is posed: "Should it be allowed or not?" and the answers are ignorant "sure, why not?" and "I don't see why you shouldn't."
If you worry at all about your children being in a clean environment, then you would not add to the mess of a pool. You would breastfeed your child out of the pool for the sanitary consideration of everyone (I've only ever seen Mexican hotel pools allow food and drink in the pool so don't even throw that argument at me!) and most importantly, for the well-being of your very own loveable, messy baby! You would also take your kids home and make them shower in good clean water with soap, because even though the possibility of contracting illness from a chlorinated pool is slim, that stuff I mentioned earlier is on their skin, in their ears, hair, nose, etc. and it is pretty nasty when you think about it!
One closing thought: Swimmers do their very best to avoid inhaling/drinking the water they swim in, for more than just appropriate breathing reasons—they're in it enough to know that it can be nasty. So why put your baby in the position to consume that bacteria-filled water at the same time as their nutritious breast milk?!

Disclaimer: I support breastfeeding wholeheartedly. I support a woman's right to breastfeed in public. I do not believe that right extends itself into physically breastfeeding a child in a pool. These are my opinions, and frankly, if you don't share them, I'm always open to a little thoughtful discourse so comment below!

Most of all, let your kids swim! Water is one of the best things in the world for them (just scrub them after). :)

Day 9: Having a Meltdown or Crying

Okay this is from a week ago, but she didn't get upset today! It was a great, great day for both of us. Up at 6:40, a nice couple hours playing/cleaning, I read her to sleep for nap #1, she slept for an hour and a half, woke up cheerful and playing in her crib, I was able to shower even though she was awake (shocker!), a trip to Walmart (scored a few photo frames and some photography props on clearance, I don't know why people hate that store so much...), some time in the sun, and another read-to-sleep nap, which then allowed me to barbeque our dinner without any baby worry!
(That is likely the longest sentence I have ever written.)
If only I didn't get more bad news about our house-buying situation when I got home, this day would've been pretty nice. All I can say is, must be nice to live off the government, hope all those people enjoy themselves. :p

Day 6/7/8

Days 6 and 8 were a total flop for me. :( There was just no way to get M to play by herself long enough for Day 6: Crack a Door and Photograph What They're Doing (I tried to set up my tripod and photograph her directly after waking up from a nap but I was caught making too much noise, silly Mom!), and Day 8: Silhouette I just plain gave up on.
Day 7's photograph for Playing in the Bathtub pretty much expresses how I felt:

... but M was quite enjoying herself.
Yesterday while scrolling through Pinterest I saw a pin entitled something along the lines of "10 tips to make your kid a swimmer". It was interesting to me first because I am a swimmer, second because I was a lifeguard and taught swimming lessons for 8 years.
I clicked, and lo, it was also a "mommy blog" and the writer's husband, who also was a lifeguard and taught lessons, had guest written his advice for parents.
I was a lifeguard long before M was around, when this chic would've told you, "No, I don't want kids. Ever," without hesitation. That's the truth, I didn't. (M changed my life, but that's another blog post.) My distaste for kids was well known but I was considered a fabulous actress, because I could get any kid to swim.
Pre-mommyhood, I also had some pretty set opinions on why kids had issues in water, and I am pleased to say that now I am a mom, those opinions were right. Ninety percent of the time, in the kids I've taught, their fear of the water was caused by their parents.
I remember starting many parent-tot classes (parents in the water with their kids, usually age 3 months to 3 years) with this speech: "Welcome to parent-tot. You will be expected to GET WET in this class, so please be prepared. Your whole body, by the time we are done with each class, should be wet." That was just the beginning; my speech covered all the basics and generally a "you don't have to dunk them, but I encourage it" bit.
Typically, the older the child, the worst the fear, and I loved getting babies because (even though parents hated it—maybe I enjoyed making them squirm?) if I had them in my class at 6 months, I knew I could start them in the water right. Putting a child under occurred the first day, not to just get it out of the way but to get the parents familiar with the fact that their child would not drown after a few seconds in the water.
That was always the first mistake I noticed—freaking out if a child fell in inches-deep water face first. A parent's reaction is SO IMPORTANT. Yes, as I know as a mom, it is scary to see your child's face in water. But in the five seconds or so that it takes an adult to grab that child, he/she will not drown! In fact, they'll usually splutter a bit and if they don't look at their parents, they'll keep playing.
The desire to prevent drowning is very strong—I understand that better now—but babies don't drown in five seconds. This is what supervised swimming means—you sit with your child close enough to grab them if they go down but you let them explore!
So my number one piece of advice after my first number one piece of advice (GET IN THE WATER WITH YOUR KIDS FOR CRYING OUT LOUD) for parents: DO NOT LET THEM SEE YOU PANIC. If they fall face first, make your face say "Wow! Wasn't that fun?" while telling them "Blow bubbles next time!"

You, too, can have a baby that loves water!! :) But I make no promises about hats.

Perhaps tomorrow or sometime this week I'll write about what to look for in a good swimming instructor—because there are many, many teenagers teaching swimming lessons who are no good at it. 

Listening to: Nothing, because my iMac is overloaded with huge programs (Adobe!) and is having fits if I run too many apps. I promised it I'll get more ram but I just got a brand new lens and it may be a while...

30 day photo challenge

I subscribe to a ridiculous amount of things, which makes my e-mail a disaster, but all of my favorite things come from my photography interests. Click It Up A Notch is doing a 30 Day Challenge that I've decided to take on.
The real challenge here, for me, is that because M is only 10 months old, there are things she doesn't specifically do. Thus, some things will be adjusted (crawling, not walking, for example) and I'm going to have to get creative, which is great.

Day 1: You and your child

 Yes, I employed the bathroom mirror for this shot because I cannot for the life of me find my tripod. I have a horrid feeling it's in our stuffed-to-the-brim storage closet and I'm afraid of opening that door. The bathroom thing is also appropriate because I often sit M in the sink just to occupy her while I'm trying to get ready to go out the door. She grabs toothbrushes and I'm able to get makeup on, because I rarely go out in public without at least foundation, eye liner and mascara on.
Since M has been very insistent on being held lately (she's teething and is recovering from hand, foot and mouth disease, or for her, Nasty Rashes Everywhere But The Bottom virus) so the sink is my compromise. Lucky for me I've been pulling the hair back and up because I get so hot now, so trying to curl or straighten the hair is now a non-issue.
I realize I've skipped my "wife/wives" study a few days and it's on my planner for tomorrow... In the mean time, I'd like to share a few more photos of my beautiful girl.

But why am I fenced in?!

 

Is it edible?

Listening to: Life, Love & Other Mysteries, Point of Grace

Dear Pinterest and all the people that make it what it is,
Thank you for inspiring me. I always get great reactions from the hubby when he sees glitter and Mod Podge on the table.
Love, Tafra

Today, it was glitter keys:

This great idea was courtesy of Jessica at www.oceansidedaydreams.com, who was also "pinspired" to decorate her keys. Tutorial here. Although I liked her colors better (especially the teal) I used what I have. What makes it even better for me is now I'll know which look-alike key goes to which lock at the right house. Perfect!
I do recommend being patient with this project and letting each coat dry completely, because I got a little anxious and a few have missing spots of glitter. I also recommend not putting your keys on a metal key ring after doing this unless you don't mind the glitter coming off from getting them on the key ring.

Also exciting is the little tomato growing on one of my plants. Notice the little guy on the right?

I used to catch oodles of grasshoppers (and rolly pollys) as a kid and now I can hardly stand the thought of touching one. <Shiver!> I also suppose that grasshoppers are not good for tomatoes so I guess tomorrow I'll be on the hunt for something to protect them with.
And finally, the best 18 bucks I ever spent was on this little plastic pool:

Because, as you can see, this is my 10-month-old leaning over to blow bubbles on her own without any coaching or encouragement from me. M loves water and it makes me so happy I can't see straight. I tell everyone that I only hope she grows a few inches taller than me because she'll be a better swimmer than me (and I was pretty decent back in the day).
We spent the entire afternoon in our backyard going in and out of the pool, playing with the pug and just enjoying the sun (despite sunburning my back... Guess I'll slap sunscreen on tomorrow.) And although I put gobs of sunscreen on M, it appears she's starting to tan a bit. Hope no one calls child protective services! But when your child is only happy when she's outside, I guess a little tan is inevitable. But really. I slather that kid down with sunscreen!

I wish I had been able to move fast enough to get their faces when M was using Roxy for standing support, and then when she and the pup started to look at the pool. If Roxy could speak, she'd be telling M, "Don't get in there! Don't you know it's wet?" I did try putting Roxy in the pool today and she hopped out faster than you could say "stop!"

Note to self

Dear Tafra,
If you think that leaving yourself a treat in your car is a good idea, yes, it is. But it is not a good idea for that treat to be a Hershey's Cookies 'n' Creme bar, because warm weather + hot car = melted chocolate. Next time, make it hard candy or gum or something, so that you save yourself the aggravation of 1. Having to clean up melted chocolate in your console and 2. You will still have a "surprise" treat when you want it.
Love, yourself

Yep, I leave myself treats in my car, for no other reason then I forget about them and then, when I find it again, it's awesome! Except it isn't awesome when it's melted chocolate. I kind of thought that the console in "Stella," my car, was deep enough that it wouldn't be too affected by the heat.
Wrong!
Heat is heat is HOT in a parked car, and my melted chocolate bar is proof. It really does make sense, I know, but honestly it didn't cross my mind when I put it there. That's one of my "Mommy, thou art blonde!" moments.
Other thoughts on today:
My baby girl is teething, and she's handled it like a champ until tonight. Currently, she is laying in her crib crying, her eyes closed and for all intents ready to sleep, but she continues screaming. She's laying there because I've come to the realization that no matter what I do, rock, walk, sing, sit still, etc., it does not make M happy.
She has what she would swallow of ibuprofen, downed a bottle, and I spent a good 45 minutes rocking her and singing. I put her in her crib, and she was okay for about 15 minutes and then the screaming started. Normally I know she'll scream it out, but since she's teething I'm a little more malleable and I went back in to rock some more. It was to no avail—precious princess is screaming in her crib without me, because I can only do so much.
I hate, hate, hate these situations, because I don't like to leave her crying. A few minutes is fine... But an hour? I hate that she's in pain and I wish that my love would actually comfort her in these situations, but she's an independent sort of baby.
On the other hand, if I don't leave her in her crib, her screams eventually wear away all of the patience and tolerance I possess and I know that if I don't walk away, I'll get angry, and I am not going to get angry at a teething almost-10-month-old.
So there she lays, screaming.
Been there, done that, moms? I've had a lot of parents tell me that's what they did, so I don't feel too bad. But it still sucks sitting in the next room, typing, while little M screams her lungs out.
Oh, deep breath. She's finally quit crying. Thank you God! Ever wonder if teething is more stressful for parents then babies? Me too.
Ta ta for now!

Grace and peace be to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to rescue us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen.
Galations 1:3-5

A follow-up to breastfeeding

My baby girl is almost 10 months old, and had things gone to my plan, I would've likely still been breastfeeding her. But if you read my little saga, you know that things didn't work out and she is formula fed.
What's funny is that just yesterday someone stated that I must breastfeed. I'm guessing she thought this because M is such a healthy (read: chunky) baby. I smiled to myself, thinking, "I am so glad I no longer have guilt over this." I told her no, M was formula fed, without feeling the need to offer any further explanation.
She did inquire why, however, so I told her it simply didn't work for me, that I didn't lactate. I did have a little twinge along the lines of I-wish-I-could've-done-it, but the guilt, disappointment and shame I've felt previously is not there anymore.
It helps to put your feelings into sentences—it's why there are so many bloggers and why Facebook causes so many problems for people (haha)—but blogging about my experience has definitely helped me to heal a little bit more. So if anything I write resonates with you, a reader, please tell me about it! I'd love to hear your experiences or feedback.

The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety. Psalms 18:2 (NIV)

Breastfeeding: My experience, part 2

{Haven't read Part 1? Scroll down!}
Normally, I'm a suck-it-up-and-deal-with-it type of person. Post partum, I was a gushy I-will-cry-about-everything mess. Add in the stress of trying to figure out how to get my body lactating more, and you have a super teary combo.
I consulted the lactation specialist at Parker Adventist after the doctor advised me to give M formula. She told me to get a hospital-grade breast pump so that my body would have enough stimulation to produce breast milk, since M would not be suckling as much. She gave me two places where you could rent a pump, one being a Walgreens. If I had thought I was stressed out already, it gets worse.
I called the Walgreens and spoke to someone about renting a pump. I asked if I could have one put on hold for me, and was informed that was not necessary and to come in, they had them available.
Matt and I made the trip from the hospital to the Walgreens, and when I asked for a pump, I was informed that they no longer had any available and why didn't I have one put on hold?
The devil himself could've stood before me and said that and I would have ripped him to shreds.
To keep from having a complete breakdown immediately, I walked away from the pharmacy counter to try breathing exercises. The tears were already coming, I couldn't control that at all. But I was choking on a vicious urge to strangle the pharmacy tech and Matt had disappeared to the restroom while I went to the pharmacy, so I was momentarily on my own.
The poor girl who stopped and asked if she could help me didn't deserve what she got. I won't lie—I was a wretched, hormonal you-know-what and she got to hear about it all. I started out yelling and was a breathless, sobbing wreck by the time I stopped. Bless her heart, she offered to call other Walgreens to perhaps locate another one that rented pumps and really took my horrid behavior quite in stride. Because my lactation specialist had already informed me that this particular store was the only one to rent pumps, I knew her search would be fruitless, but she tried.
During that time, Matt had returned, found out what happened and was trying to calm me down. Not an easy task, when you consider the mess I was at that point. And the worst thing was, stress itself is a major factor in let-down while breastfeeding—I was only making my situation worse.
{I should also mention that another Walgreens employee noticed my train wreck and came over to offer help while the first girl was making calls. It did not play in her favor to ask why I hadn't had a pump put on hold. Cue another emotional breakdown.}
We left Walgreens with a promise that a manager would call, and we went back to the hospital. My lactation specialist was an angel during this time, a calm, caring woman who managed to get the hospital's one pump to me despite unfavorable circumstances. Now I had a breast pump, a lactation diet, aids to encourage M to suckle, and the words "don't stress out" in my head.
Did you know that babies will stop trying to suckle as hard once they've experienced the ease of bottle feeding? "Don't stress out" was like telling a bird not to fly.
I had all of these things (finally) and now, my baby was beginning to develop a dislike for trying to suckle at the breast! One of the aids was what is best described as an IV drip so that M would receive enough milk to encourage her to suck harder at the nipple. You put the premixed (read: more expensive) formula in a special bottle that feeds a tube, hang it on your bra or whatever is available, then manipulate the baby into taking in your nipple and the tube into her mouth just right.
Now, take your 3 a.m. feeding, add in additional aids to encourage baby (which means formula) and getting the little tube in her mouth, then finishing with pumping (in the middle of the night!) and I was not only stressed, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted.