OK, Internets. It's about to get real.
I've been trying to keep this blog -- at least in its post-Nora incarnation -- positive and upbeat and relatively free of cussing. But it doesn't feel honest, frankly. And I need to be honest. So let me disclaim, before going further, that I love my daughter boundlessly. I am grateful every second of every day that she is happy and healthy and that she fought her way through her rocky start. I feel guilty making the slightest complaint about my life with her, considering how close we once thought we were to living life without her. But I'm human, therefore I complain. Please try not to judge me too harshly -- believe me when I say I'm already judging myself and not always liking the measure.
And as long as I'm disclaiming, please be advised, before going further, that this post contains some discussion of my boobs.
ANYWAY.
There is nothing I hate more than feeding my daughter. Nothing. It's supposed to be happy bonding time, but it's not. It's a battle. It's a war. And I always lose. First, she decided that she wasn't keen on breastfeeding -- this after several weeks of blissful, easy breastfeeding. Out of nowhere, she started screaming if my nipple got anywhere near her. After a teary, freaked out couple weeks (talking about me here, mostly) and talking to some new-mom friends and lactation consultants, I figured out my milk supply had gotten low. It just took a few days to get back on track. But Nora wasn't impressed, so despite my efforts, most feedings were still met with purple-faced, prolonged screaming (talking about her now, though sometimes I thought about joining in).
So, OK, fine. I went to pumping milk and feeding it to her in a bottle. And the doc put Nora on an antacid, after suspecting that some reflux might be involved as well. For a blissful week or so, things went well, with the added advantage of allowing dad to take over some of the feedings. But pretty soon, that went all wrecky, too. First there was one or two rough feedings a day -- she'd duck and dodge the bottle at best, and scream vigorously for an hour at worst, with both scenarios not resulting in a lot of food getting in there. Then more of the feedings went wrecky, until we get to, well, now. When ALL feedings are a battle, and all the battles are lost. Eventually I get some food into her (usually), but sometimes it takes hours, and all times it saps every bit of patience I have. If I'm lucky, I end up exhausted. More often, I end up crumpled in a ball on the bathroom floor crying in frustration. It's not pretty.
All of this may sound like a bit of an overreaction -- "The baby won't starve to death!," "This too shall pass," goes some of the advice I've received. But at the last doctor's visit, Nora's previously strong weight gain was starting to wane. No weight was lost, so it's not too bad yet. But she's not gaining like she should anymore, which is worrisome for someone who hasn't yet cracked 10 pounds. The simple solution, of course, is to get more food in her. Yeah, I know. I'd like to see you try. Hence my frustration.
We have a pediatrician appointment next week to address all this, so please know I'm trying to fix this. Meanwhile, it's time to feed her again. I guess. The last feeding took two hours of trying before I could get half the necessary dose of milk into her, so I don't know what that does to any semblance of a feeding schedule. But I do know that I'm almost to the point of getting the shakes as I prepare to go into her room, so much do I dread this process and knowing I'll have to not only endure some inconvenience, but also a heavy dose of fear and worry -- and despair that the simple act of feeding a baby is apparently not going to be simple for me, which makes me wonder if anything will ever be simple again.
Just wanted to let you know that we are thinking of you all and hoping that the pediatrician can figure out what's going on with little Nora!
Posted by: amy boyd | July 03, 2010 at 05:07 PM
Back in the day, we used to call this a "nursing strike" it usually resolves itself in a few days, providing there isn't an underlying cause such as an ear infection or a fungal infection in her mouth, or sore gums from teething. Sometime a striker will accept milk from a cup, a spoon, or an eyedropper while busy resolving whatever "issues" are driving the strike. They seem to happen at around 3 months and possibly again at around eight months. I can remember my mother taking a screaming Geoffrey from a weeping me and saying "Just give me that baby for an hour. You go take a warm bath!"
Posted by: Kathy Chandler | July 04, 2010 at 11:22 AM
Stacy - I'm sure your doctor has probably already mentioned this, but on the rare chance that he hasn't...have you taken all dairy out of your diet? I had to do that a few weeks ago b/c Claire had painful gas. This past Sunday I used my first stored breastmilk from April to feed her rice cereal. I wasn't even thinking that the stored milk was from when I was still eating dairy. Yesterday evening she screamed for a straight hour and a half without letting out hardly any gas. Apparently the dairy filled milk was really hurting going thru her system...she was hungry, but turned her head away from my breast (she has always been willing to eat so this was a surprise to me). She refused to eat until the pain had passed. Later in the evening, she passed some gas. I know this pales in comparison to what you're going thru, but your situation came to mind when Claire refused to eat 3 times. I hope the solution is as simple as taking dairy out of your diet. Please keep us updated. We're thinking about you!
Posted by: amy boyd | July 06, 2010 at 07:21 AM
Stacy- Please don't worry about complaining about Nora. Everyone knows how much you two love her. Frustration definitely happens and it is better to let it out than keep it in. Just think how much better you feel when you beat Geoffrey up =). I'm sure he doesn't mind about that.
I'm sure you already tried this suggestion, but have you used faster flow bottle nipples or different bottles? Anyway, I truly hope things get better for you and when I get back in town, I'll definitely watch Nora so that you and Geoffrey can go out to dinner.
Posted by: Deanne | July 06, 2010 at 05:00 PM
I know I feel guilty complaining about my baby, too, considering how some people struggle and struggle to have kids, and some people tragically lose their children. But it's completely human to not be happy all the time.
I hope the doctor can help you and Nora solve the problems. We had a rough feeding start, too. I had hardly any supply, so we were both frustrated and the baby never latched right even after I sought the help of three lactation consultants who said everything looked "fine." So after two months of exclusively pumping, we switched to formula and we've both been happy ever since. I hope you can work things out, but no matter how you end up feeding your baby, know that a happy, relaxed mama is the best gift you can give both of you. Sending you hugs!
Posted by: Stephanie | July 10, 2010 at 03:53 PM
I can't offer any advice, but I can tell you that you have every right to complain. That sounds completely crazy-making. Giving the baby bottle or boob is supposed to be the thing that calms them, and if I hadn't had that, things would have been really really stressful. I'm sure it will resolve, and that she won't starve to death, but that doesn't help much in the moment.
Posted by: kristin | July 14, 2010 at 03:20 PM
Ditto Stephanie's post - with BOTH girls. Felt really guilty about it, too, until my husband (who was adopted) said, "I didn't have a drop of breast milk, and I think I turned out alright."
The mother's stress of feeding rubs off on the baby - I was much happier going to formula route (after weeks of agony), and the girls were, too.
Posted by: Robin | July 25, 2010 at 08:54 AM