I'm starting this blog way too far into this, so those of you reading this, forgive me if my details sounds sketchy, at times. It's because I have the memory of a gnat, these days. Seems most of my thoughts are of when Levi might wake up to nurse, again, did Faeth feed the cat, did I remember to turn the dryer on for the 5th time, etc.
As I'm writing this, tonight, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I've made it breastfeeding for 6 months now. Even though we supplement because of all the damage done to my right breast from mastitis(I'll come back to that), I'm still proud to have made it this far. There were so many people who told me I shouldn't, and that I couldn't, in the beginning. Mostly because I tried with Faeth, and was told when she was just over 2 weeks old that I had to stop because I had mastitis.
Lo and behold, I got it, again, when Levi was exactly the same age as Faeth was when I got it with her. My right breast, up until that moment, had been the "bread winner" of breasts. They try to tell you how bad mastitis is, but, until you have it, you'll never quite understand. Kind of like how it feels to give birth. Now, there's a pain all women love to talk about. Anyways, when I found I had gotten it, again, I just knew breastfeeding was over. I didn't give up, though, and I'm glad I stuck it out.
Levi gave me all kinds of trouble, from the very beginning, with breastfeeding. He had a latch that would make a cow want to trample you. It feels like a chip clip is being attached to the very sensitive, bruised, and now ruined nipple that feeds this kid. You would think he'd be a little nicer to the ole gals. My husband swears that one day, I'll get the old girls a lift. I sure hope so. After the things these breasts have been through, the least they deserve is to not look like flat tires, anymore.
I wish I had asked more questions at that breastfeeding class I attended back when I was pregnant. I'd have asked her how to get a teething baby to stop biting the breast that feeds him. I'd have asked her was she going to show up and nurse my baby at 3 A.M., when he's nursed so much my nipples are dry, and my breasts have been tapped dry, because she thought formula was evil.
She was the first one I ran to when my supply didn't come in, and guess what she gave Levi? Formula! That's right! Good ole, pre-mixed formula. The kid was starving! Same thing happened with Faeth, though I didn't know it, when she was born. There are so many things that can go wrong with breastfeeding, but, the lactation consultants don't want to talk about those things. I wish I had given myself a break, in the beginning, and just relaxed. I'm sure my husband would have appreciated that, too. I was so worried about looking good for the nurses, I forgot I'm only human.
But, I'll pat myself on the back, for even drudging through all the problems I had, and some I still have. As for tonight, I'm going to hope that little stinker lets me sleep more than 3 hours, consecutively. I long for the nights he'll actually sleep though the night. I keep hoping it's tonight. Then again, when that happens, I'll wish for the nights he needed me, won't I?
Until next time, the sleepy milk-maker.
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