Transition

Chances are if you're reading my blog right now, you know me pretty well.  So you probably already know that I have been crying a lot lately.  In fact, at Parent/Teacher Conferences yesterday, I warned each of the teachers before we started, that I may break down sobbing uncontrollably at any point, through no fault of their own.  It wasn't them.  It was me. 

Call it hormones.  Call it Post-Partum Craziness.  Call it whatever you fancy.  But this sweet lil Charlotte undoubtedly has thrown her Mama for quite a loop.

You see, we've been having issues with nursing, she and I.  And it pretty much started from the moment she entered the world.  She would get on my breast, then pop off, for no apparent reason.  Hmmm...I thought to myself, that's weird.  All the other girls hopped on and ate voraciously...like text book style, you know?  I even asked to consult with a Lactation Consultant before I was released from the hospital, who assured me, "She's fine.  Make sure you get your entire aeriola in her mouth."  Was she referring to the aeriola, that after feeding four previous babies, was the size of a Thanksgiving turkey platter?  Ohhhkay.

Well, as it turns out, the more babies you have nursed, the more "tissue" you have for lil tiny peanut to put into her mouth to get a good latch.  It's like the difference between having a beer bong that flows freely, and one that has holes in it.  See my point, now do ya?

My first real breakdown happened out in public...at Booksin...as the girls entertained themselves on the playground.  Charlotte was hungry, and so the Booby Cafe opened.  My other girls nursed anytime, anywhere, under any circumstances.  Therein lies the beauty of breast-feeding.  But what happened next left me feeling totally helpless.

I tried unsuccessfully, to get Charlotte to nurse for over an hour.  I kept thinking, "Baby girl, I have what you need right here.  Warm, ready to go.  GET ON!"  But no.  She was on, then off, on, then off.  For over an HOUR.  She's crying.  I'm crying.  My lil peanut was refusing my breast.  Rejecting my milk.  NOT eating, as we both grew more frantic and frustrated. 

It didn't help matters that the Nugget wasn't gaining weight.  I was told to pump first, so that when I offered her both breasts, she would have the Hindmilk...the milk with all the fat.  And then supplement with breast milk afterwards, from the bottle.  Yeah...that's all good in THEORY. 

She would be due to eat, and there I was on the F'ing pump.  Only to offer my breast, and still be rejected.  And guess what?  I still had to finish pumping and feed her a bottle.  Not to mention, WASH all the shit associated with the pump.  1 1/2 hours later, same Circus act...errrrrr.

I began to totally emphasize with other Mama's who doubted their breast-feeding abilities.  I mean, I had had success in the past, and I was doubting MY ability, not to mention, my sanity.

Emotionally, I was spent.  I began feeling guilty for not being a good Mama to my biggies.  So much self-imposed pressure to be the same mom that I was before giving birth, without giving myself permission to let some things go.  I wanted to still be that mom who held it all together with a hot breakfast before they left for school, with snacks packed into the backpack, as I kissed them good-bye in the morning.

When in reality, I was held prisoner in my Lazy Boy chair, attempting to nurse, failing, pumping, and feeling totally and utterly exhausted and frustrated.

You see, I'm grieving a loss here.  I love nursing.  I love the bonding that takes place between my baby and me.  I love knowing that God created us both perfectly, and that I can feed my lil babe at the breast.  I love how my baby can eat with wild abandon, milk collecting in the corners of her mouth, and look up at me, while her tiny hand gently holds onto my breast, with total unconditional love.

Is she healthy?  Yes.  Does she take the bottle?  Yes.  Is she still getting my milk?  Yes. 

But I'm feeling sad right now.  I'm working through it.   My hope is that we'll be able to figure this dance out so  that Ms. Charlotte will be able to nurse more effectively.  I have a Lactation consultant coming to my house tomorrow.  But right now, this is where we are.  Living not day by day.  But rather, moment by moment. 

I don't feel like a great mommy right now.  I just feel a bit lost.  So if you see me, and it looks like I have been crying, I have been.  Just give me a hug.  Because I could really use it.