Close Proximity

Crickets here on the blog lately as for the last couple weekends, Wilson and I have been sharing sniffles back and forth and back again. You see, she’s awfully darn cute, so when img_1071I got some head cold germies, it was hard to remember to keep my distance from her (plus we still nurse around the clock, so….) and then when I got better and she got them, it was hard to remember not to let her slobber-bobber-ness get too close to me, so….I’m starting off my second Monday in a row with a head fog.

Fitting as we’ve been in a fog these last couple weeks, anyway, awaiting Ben’s grandma’s funeral (happening this weekend) and trying to wrap our (foggy) brains around the fact that school is starting, well, next week! Ben actually went back today for his first round of meetings and dives in full force with those this Thursday with kids starting classes the following Thursday.

We will have two in elementary and two in preschool (after he officially turns 3, for Truman, but knock on wood, potty training is going well, so looks like it is a go), which means this mama has to wrap her (foggy) brain around all the drop off times and split locations and all that again, which is different this year as our kids’ school is doing a two-year remodel, so they have to be taken to a different location, which feels new and little nervous making for all of us, I suppose, even though I know it will go fine once we get the new system figured out.

But we’ve honestly had a strange summer and a strange year, so shifting into the new school year and all the change that comes with it is making me glad to have at least a few more days here with all my babies under one roof (even if we are sharing too many back-to-school germs before back-to-school has even begun). I like it better when Ben is here with us so we can divide and conquer and enjoy just a tad bit more, but that’s what Paw Patrol is for, right? Right.

It may not have been the summer (or spring) we had planned or wanted, but we have been able to be together just the seven of us a lot, and that is always, always a good thing in my book.

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Milk, To Go

It’s been a while since my last update on breastfeeding, and the good news is, the blebs seem to be, for now, at bay. It took waaaay longer than anticipated for them to fade which meant the pain lasted WAAAAAY longer than anticipated, too, but for over a month now, things have been (knock on wood) back to normal/good. Fingers (and toes) crossed that this trend continues.

To be fair, we gave the system a good test by taking it on the road for our SoDak trip. Nursing away from home is never easy with a baby this age (so distracted! so many extra-long stops along the way!), but all things considered, Wilson did a great job of rolling with it and not injuring me again as we traveled.

Although I am no stranger to nursing in very public places if need be (can you say Houston Children’s Museum, WHOA), I prefer to sneak away when I can, and fortunately on our trip, 90% of the time, I could do just that. I had one afternoon when we rode the 1880s train from Hill City to Keystone and back where I had to nurse both on the train (for soothing because she HATED it) and on a bench at the station (which was empty when I sat down but then soon filled with other bench sitters even though departure time was still 45 mins out, but hey – we saw a deer up close!), but otherwise we were either back at our cabin with my family or I had access to our van.

Ah, nursing in the minivan. Nowhere near as bad as nursing in a public bathroom (ew) but still strange. But also air conditioned and with the option to sort of hang blankets to block view of the passenger seat and still use my Boppy, so really pretty fantastic. Much of our feedings we looked like this, and yes, most of them also turned into little cat naps for Little Miss:

And really, on our big travel days, the extra long pit stops weren’t such a bad deal, either, because it gave the Bigs a chance to get out and stretch legs, etc. at parks along the way. Bless it, I am a BIG fan of Google Maps satellite view because all you have to do is zoom in and look for a baseball diamond in just about any small town and there ye shall also find a park and public restroom. Modern pioneering, I tell ya.

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Also very modern? Something I discovered (and am very excited about, very grateful for) upon returning home from our trip: a nursing swimsuit! I know, I know. I just bought a new suit this summer, but I am returning it because this is awesome and I had no idea until last week that such a thing even existed. It’s a two piece with extra high, extra comfy and flattering bottoms, and a top that unbuttons from the tops of the shoulders (but still with straps down the front so you still stay covered and everything stays in place) from Latched Mama. I get it that the Internet is a creepy place sometimes, and who knows how it decided to show me an ad for this suit, but bless it (again), I’ll take it!

This will get its official test run this weekend on a little family excursion, but I’m already totally thrilled by the fit and accessibility, not to mention the postpartum-friendly design (no matter how many months or years that’s been, actually). Even though the snaps will eventually be obsolete, I can see wearing this for a few summers for sure.

So, from here to there and there to here, I can nurse just anywhere! 😉

Crazy May

If you’re reading this (i.e., if you’re human), I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how bonkers May is. It is truth. And you already know the hubbub well. If I took a picture of our calendar, it would say much the same (and my anxiety levels feel it, too). But our May is off to a cray-cray start not (just) because of the schedule, but the oddities my children are throwing at us.

860fd21b-d3bb-4cc6-b5e4-f9721a00134dMost current is an at-home with a tummy-bug that started last night RL. She is slowly doing better but she’s super sad to be missing tonight’s Student Success night at school and I haven’t even had the heart to tell her that she’s going to have to stay home and miss her first-ever Field Day tomorrow. For my little Kindergartner who LOVES school, this is like a double whammy of feeling crappy because both her body and her spirit are suffering.

But stomach bugs aren’t all that weird, even this time of year. They seem to suck more when the weather is nice, but they happen, so although not ideal (and definitely still contributing to the crazy), not that unknown.

However, Raegan is not the only girl in our house throwing curve balls this month. On Saturday I walked in to see Wilson on her tummy in her crib which was a HUGE shock because she’s been sleeping the last month-ish in a Baby Merlin’s Magic Sleep Suit (worth the look if you’ve never seen them as they are a great swaddle transition) and the whole point beyond keeping them from punching themselves in the face during the night is to KEEP THEM ON THEIR BACKS.

Not my Wonder Baby/She-woman. She is too strong for mere mortals and also for magic baby gear, apparently. So bye-bye Merlin and Hello, Halos, instead! Of course this means she has way more freedom in her crib and as you might remember from previous mentions, she’s in this phase where she often forgets that she can in fact roll from her belly to her back, so now when she should be sleeping or napping, she’s often yelling because she’s “stuck” belly surfing. Heaven help our tired souls (which did not benefit from poor RL being up alllll night with the urps last night, either. Also. Whatever.).

And while this conundrum at this age is new to us, it’s also not that strange. Babies get bigger and they outgrow fixes. In fact, that’s still the best baby advice I ever received from a friend after HD was born: as soon as you think you know what the kid is doing, said kid is going to change. FOREVER.

What is both new AND strange to us, and to others I’m willing to guess, happened Friday night to one of our boys. Not naming because I’m trying to protect anonymity and privacy here, but the gist of the story is that a certain body part on a boy got horribly and inexplicably swollen Friday evening, resulting in a trip to Convenient Care which then lead to the ER (!!!) for an ultrasound to make sure that surgery was not needed on (un)said body part that same night.

Yep. Not even kidding.

The whole thing was a whirlwind and scary but thankfully did NOT result in surgery (for real, I’m cool if #WonderWilson is the only one who ever needs that in our family’s story), and the child in question has been doing pretty OK since. He is on meds and will do a follow up with our family doctor and then later in May a specialist, so I might have more to share then, but for now I’m just starting at the calendar and thinking: good gravy, that’s a lot for a five-day time span.

But that’s motherhood, isn’t it? Lots of plates spinning with unknown new plates getting tossed in to the mix when we least expect it. And so we just keep spinning. Thankful to be doing so for another day, even if it’s a day that requires a lot (a LOT) of coffee to keep it all going.

This Too Shall Pass

Seeing as it has been the fastest-but-longest month (winter) E.V.E.R., it’s both impossible and totally reasonable that we are now in the final days of April. Oh, April. You’ve challenged me before and you’ve challenged me once again. I don’t know why we have this beef, but it seems that every couple years, you come with…..lessons. I really can’t believe how quickly the month has gone but looking back it was also a pretty damn hard month, so I’m not exactly sad to see it go.

It started with the stomach bug that knocked me out at Easter, the very first of the month, and it’s continuing here, four weeks later in the form of continued boob drama. What started as a bleb in one breast and then shifted to a clogged duct in the other then turned into a bleb in the super sore boob and now remains as two just generally cranky boobs. You’d think we just started nursing instead of being five months in based on how I feel and I have zero explanations for it.

I’ve had Wilson’s mouth checked and there’s no sign of a tongue tie or teeth or thrush (thank goodness to all three of those things) but there’s also no clear indicator as to why her latch is what it is (kinda crappy, kinda leaky at times) or why my nipples are so sore. It just is and I just am.

So we wait it out. Give her time to grow and maybe time for me to heal, and we see what happens. 12 months remains the goal and Lord in Heaven, I may have to be VERY stubborn to make that happen based on how things are right now, but I worked hard enough to get her going in the first place to be able to come home 100% breastfed, so I suppose I can somehow get there. Right? Right.

The other “this” that needs to/shall also pass is a different kind of stuckness (nope, not a word), and it has to do with my physical routines.

I don’t have a set time post-baby where I suddenly start working out again,10452ba4-24b1-4483-ad23-6d8a3fe746c0 but around this time the baby tends to get big enough to start straining my back as I carry the car seat (or just the baby in general), which prompts me to start doing more yoga, etc. to strengthen my body. This go-round I had not only the desire to yoga again but also to RUN which I haven’t done seriously since before children; but I couldn’t get it out of my head, so instead I just went for it. And by it, I mean a run – with Raegain and then Lincoln – and it was great. I logged less than a mile total and there was definitely some walking in the midst of that running, but I was excited to baby step my way back in to what once was a big part of my life.

However, right when my legs stopped being crampy from the yoga + running, my boob/side exploded in soreness from the clogged duct and alllllllllll the nursing resources out there say rest, take it easy, go slow when you’re having these problems, and so. Here I am. Taking it slow which looks and feels a lot like still doing nothing. But that’s not really true, is it? Because if you’re anything like me, you know that sitting in stillness is very much not nothing, nor is it easy.

img_9914So no big physical practice for me right now. On the mat or on the streets. Instead I’m committing to Legs up the Wall and a meditation/mantra of being healthy and whole and that’s it. It’s not exactly what I wanted to be doing right now but it is what my system is clearly, loudly, painfully telling me I need.

It won’t always be like this. In a year’s time, in a month’s time, everything will be different, and I’m much closer to having my body be entirely my own again than I have been in almost a decade, so there’s that to consider, too. Time will pass. Circumstances will change. Focus will shift. For now I’ve got to stay the quiet course and that’s just going to have to be OK for as long as time says it needs.

The Struggle Bus(t)

OK. If the title and the picture didn’t give it away, we’re getting all up in the boob talk with this one, so consider yourself warned….

After the last post about The Bleb (surely it should be a proper noun, no?), a friend who experienced one on her last baby told me to keep an eye out for repeat occurrences, as apparently once you get one, it is common for it to come back. At first I was dismayed/horrified/disbelieving, but it makes sense, especially in my case where I had to create an open wound ON my nipple. Trying to heal something like that can be tricky because breaking open can cause bleeding which can lead to scab/scar which could totally become blocked again, even with lanolin (which I have been applying after every feed on that side ever since).

So that’s part of this story: the paranoia. I am watching those pores like a hawk because I do NOT want another Bleb, but when your sweet, sweet, baby nurses like a, like a what? a Tasmanian Devil? good luck being gentle with a recovering boob.

All of my babies have been movers and shakers while nursing (I credited RL’s and LT’s pint-sized-ness to the fact that they never stopped moving, even to eat), but Wilson is a puller-back which sucks. Or rather, doesn’t suck as nicely as I would like her to (it’s funny how many puns there are around breastfeeding once you get going). Mainly she is forever pulling her head back away from me, with my nipple still in her mouth, so ouch, AND she comes off a ton of times, too, in any given feeding. Part of this is her age and distractability, but part of it is also just her. (Any suggestions for how to curb this and still get her fed would be great, thanks!)

Even though I sometimes think The Return of the Bleb might be upon me, that’s not actually the point here. The point, or rather the pain, is now in my other boob which apparently got left in one particular nursing tank for waaaay too long (confession: a solid 40 hours, tyvm) and is now incredibly, miserably, sore. So, note to self: even if not showering, CHANGE THE TANK/BRA/WHAT-HAVE-YOU every day/night! Duh. And OOF. (Again, any tips here would be great. Trying to massage the breast during feedings and considered using a warm compress on it. Can’t always start on that side, though, because I’m a one-side per feeding kind of girl.)

Once again, in the span of just a few weeks, I find myself doing everything I can think of to clear this what I assume is a clogged duct in hopes of avoiding mastitis. For the love of all things holy, please let me avoid mastitis!

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And really, all of this is to say that even though I take these #brelfies, it really isn’t to (just) show off. It’s motivation. It’s documentation. It’s mother-effing determination to keep going because breastfeeding is STILL the hardest thing even though it seems like it should be the most natural. I take these pictures and I write these posts because I want other mamas to know they are not the only ones struggling. I really want all this boob drama to just go away so I can snuggle up and enjoy nursing my last little one for as long as possible, but honestly, the last few weeks have been rough and have left me wondering just how we’re going to get as far in the months nursed as I did with all the others.

If you know a currently breastfeeding mama, give her some love, even if she’s not (over)sharing about her efforts and her struggles, because the struggle is indeed real and encouragement helps.

 

Oh, Bleb.

*all things breastfeeding in this post. consider yourself warned.*

If the phrase “Milk Bleb” is unknown to you, that’s a good thing. It’s something, like omphalocele, that one doesn’t really have any reason to know unless you are 1) a specialist and/or 2) a, um, recipient.

So a milk bleb is like a little milk blister. On the nipple. It means that one of pores on the nipple is plugged/blogged/stuck with milk, turning that pore into what looks a lot like a little white pimple. On the nipple. It doesn’t look normal, it doesn’t feel normal, its name doesn’t sound like a normal word, and basically It. Is. NOT. Normal.

In the haze of the stomach flu recovery last week, I somehow developed a bleb. I’m pretty sure I’ve had one with some other baby but I don’t remember having to actually do much about it (so it just went away? I don’t know). But after a several/few days of noticing during feedings and showers that yep, weird little white dot was still there, I realized I needed to do something about the darn thing. Although it wasn’t causing a great deal of pain or discomfort, the last thing I wanted it to do was lead to a problem deeper within the breast tissue like an actual plugged duct or mastitis.

Enter Internet searches. I realize you can fall down a rabbit hole pretty quick when it comes to researching medical inquires online, but at the same time, how did people (parents in particular) get by without it? I didn’t even know what to call my condition until I started Googling it but then sure enough, I got a name, information, and tips for how to cure it, all in go. I also had a second set of tips and such that a friend found for me when I asked her if she’d ever had a milk blister, so you know, more info, more help.

After being able to clear the pore, I’ve been on constant rotation with lanolin and double (not triple, specifically, which it turns out is hard to find) antibiotic ointment and it appears that my bleb is thankfully on the mend. I am hoping that I didn’t wait too long with any of this so that I can indeed avoid any other developments because a bleb has been more than enough excitement (nope, not exciting at all) for one boob for all the rest of my nursing days. img_9781

The Lasts

Last week, Ben had to set an alarm on his phone and when I heard it go off the first time, I almost jumped out of my skin.

To me, that was no regular sound, but rather THE sound that literally marked our time in the NICU, as it was his phone that kept track of just how long it had been since we last fed the baby or I last took my medicine. Day and night, those were the bells that we worked toward and through, not knowing how many more times we’d have to set them before our wish to come home was granted.

We did that for three weeks. And bless it, now Wilson is three months old and we’ve been home for well more than double of the time that we weren’t here. NICU parents: is it weird that I’m still counting that time or is that another NICU thing? Because I can literally look at the calendar and be thankful in an instant again that we’ve put that many dates between being there and being home. (Disclaimer: I don’t hate the NICU. Yes, I’m still shaking it off myself at times, but obviously if your baby needs to be there, you are hella grateful that it exists and can help you get to the point of shaking off and being home.)

At three months, Wilson continues to charm us all on a constant basis. She sleeps – in my arms, in her rock-n-play, in her bed – pretty much wherever and whenever. She eats – almost always in our favorite rocking chair where I can watch the little boys play Wrestle Mania on the bed that sits in that same room. She smiles – ALL the time at ALL of us and it literally the best thing ever, every single time. She talks – OK, coos and makes this little noise that sounds like “whoo whoo” just like her sister’s owl friend, and again, hearts melting left and right each time it happens.

At three months, Wilson also continues to surprise us with her growth. Unlike her sister (one of my two babies who stayed in the 8th percentile for.ev.er), Sister Wilson is gaining and stretching like crazy. She’s up to just shy of 13 lbs. and is so long that she’s already outgrown the 0-3 month clothes. So while it was just a wee month ago that I finally pulled out the baby girl stuff from the basement, I’ve already had to go digging again because she’s too long for all the stuff Raegan wore her first winter (and she was almost three weeks ahead of WA on the calendar). And because Big Sister stayed little for so long, I hit a bit of a season snafu in that next sized bin which lead me to make a quick Target order for some 3-6 sleepers to get us through the rest of this crazy-arse cold weather that I would very much like to see end and soon, thanks.

I mention all of this not to bore you with details about my online shopping habits, but to document that not all reminders of our time in Omaha are triggers in the negative way. img_9238Meaning? Well, these sleepers. They are the exact same set (but one size bigger) that we bought for her on one of those after-hospital Target runs in the first few days at Children’s. She wore them all the time there and since we’ve been home. They are beautiful and soft (and zip from the top down which I have never seen before but is incredibly smart and great for keeping tummies warm and covered) and I don’t feel like jumping out of my skin when I see them.

Actually, what I do feel like I’m doing with this new set is my darndest to hang on to those moments of being small and new because for the first time, I know that I am actually doing all of this for the last time.

The thought of tossing those 0-3 month sleepers in a tote and just moving on with it caught me off guard because the next time I dig through those clothes will be to sell or give away, not for one of my own babies, and that hit me harder than I expected it to. So I’m totally slapping a Band-Aid on the situation by putting her in the exact same outfits one size up, but I’ll take it because this is my version of enjoying what truly are the lasts.

I may not be able to pull off the “enjoy EVERY MOMENT” thing that every young mother has heard at some point in her young mamahood, but I certainly am soaking in as much as I can because I get it. Our family will not grow and stretch again, but you can bet these babies of mine are going to keep on doing just that.