Day 204: Regrets

Okay, this is just a very quick entry...Gia's napping in the room and my typing tends to disturb her!

But...I'm sitting here editing her newborn photos. The hospital in which she was born has a contract with a professional photography company that, I believe, employs freelance photographers (just an assumption). We were given an advertisement with some amazing photos, looked at the website with even more amazing photos, and I figured, that's it! All I wanted was a disc of the images and there was no sitting fee, so we'd only have to pay for the disc as opposed to a privately hired photographer's sitting fee as well as fee for disc or any prints. I believe some pros don't even offer a disc, which would be a no-go for me because I want full printing rights until the end of time. It's just simpler that way. Plus, I don't trust the work of professionals; I just haven't had good experiences. Not with photographers, necessarily, but professionals all around. So, I like to have a disc handy to make my own edits, if necessary. And necessary it has turned out to be!

First, I was put off by the fact that this woman used a flash. I have a newborn...two day old baby who was just enveloped in darkness. You're going to blow a flash in her face? The ad said "natural light" not flash photography. In my opinion, a flash is hideous anyway. Natural light photos have such better quality, better dimension! I overlooked it at the time, though.

Second, when we received the disc of photos, I wanted to cry. The quality was the worst I'd ever seen. Her camera had to be at least as good as mine, which takes amazingly detailed photos. So, why did it look like, literally, a 1 mp camera was used as opposed to 8 or higher? I wrote to the company to complain. I was so upset! My baby was no longer a newborn when we received the disc! I wanted a large print of at least one, but a 4x6 would be the largest acceptable unless I wanted the ugliest photo possible.

So, the photographer sent a new disc with the unedited photos. Much better, but still disappointing because of the flash. Shadows existed where they shouldn't, bits and pieces were blown out white, and detail was nonexistent when it should have been great. There was at least more detail than her edits, though. And why is that? Because she over-airbrushed the photos. She airbrushed my newborn baby! Babies need that amount of airbrushing? Really? Her hairline was gone, it was so overdone!

At the time, I had already been deep into my own constant photography of Gianna, so I didn't make the time to edit the original photos--to correct the lighting and color that the flash ruined. As Gia napped today, however, (I use the past tense because, at this point, she has woken up. Haha) I decided to try to make a dent. I got one finished ;) Oh well! It's phenomenal in comparison, in my opinion...and took probably an hour.

And, one day, I'll have reworked them all :)

If I could do it all over again, though, I'd hire my own photographer after extensive research. Trusting a company to actually have all equally talented professionals is ignorant. Of course they took the best photos they were given and advertised those! There have to be as many less talented photographers employed by them as well, though. Silly, financially poor Kelly. Next time...except it still kills me that I don't have the absolutely most amazing pictures this time :( Gia deserves them! And I think I do too :-P

Anyway, time to feed the moo! Talk later...which hopefully means soon, hehe.

Day 199

Gia's so silly.

Last night when I brought her upstairs for some quiet time before bed, all she wanted to do was bounce around and laugh...and eat her hands and blanket. She was definitely tired! She'd been yawning and rubbing her eyes before we went upstairs and was also clearly hungry, but that's what she does! I'm guessing the playfulness is a little bit because of tiredness, but it's pretty hilarious.

I keep reading that you should be boring at bedtime--make it a quiet, soothing experience--that you shouldn't engage in stimulating activity...and, for the most part, I don't. But when she's trying to jump up and down on my lap with her mouth wide open, or makes big eyes and opens her mouth, leaning toward me, to try to eat my face, or when she shoves her hand in her mouth, makes a big smile, and starts to make laughing sounds, I just can't help but engage! She's simply too funny.

Last night, she did all of this, of course...I had her standing up on my lap and I'd rock back and forth in the glider, bringing my face to hers every once in a while and saying things like "boo!" while she gave a single laugh for each one. At one point, she was sucking madly on her hand and smiling at me, so I'd stick my face right up to her and make noises or pretend to eat her hand as well...then she put both hands on either side of my face and I was just covered in slobber. It was so gross and cute at the same time.

She loves the dark. That's one problem with bedtime. We go upstairs to sit in the dark with some lullabies and just relax and try to finish eight ounces of milk before falling asleep. But what happens is that she just wants to make faces and laugh at you! The dark simply cracks her up. I love it, though, because then that cracks me up and I'm in a good mood. As long as my baby is happy, I guess I couldn't care less. And the play time doesn't go on for so long that it overtires her or eclipses bedtime. At some point, she'll scrunch her little face up and start rubbing her eyes, and then I know play time is officially over and she's probably ready to be rocked to sleep with a bottle in her mouth.

I wish I had a night vision camera to capture those nighttime play sessions, though :) Silly baby.

Day 190: Goodbye, Rockabye

It's been a long time since I got to sleep with Gia in my arms. You'd think holding a baby while you sleep would feel like a burden, like something difficult to pull off that infringes on your own sleep. It wasn't like that, though. I probably spent a good month holding Gia through the night when she was a newborn. After that...though she slept, swaddled, in her co-sleeper...I always held her while she slept during the day. She would often wake up after being set down, so we always just held her; she'd fall asleep on my belly while eating and I'd hold her there for the next three hours, propped up on her Boppy pillow. Yes, my butt got really numb, but she was pretty precious.

At night, when Gia had outgrown her Boppy and I'd become tired, I'd wedge myself into the corner of the sectional, where I could sit up with my knees bent and arms propped on top of them to hold her, and I'd lay my head against the cushion so I could drift off with her in my arms as she ate and fell asleep, herself. I usually didn't have to hold her through the night anymore, but sometimes she just wouldn't stay asleep once I set her in the co-sleeper, so I'd let her lie across my belly, her little head snuggled into the crook of my arm, while we both slept until morning.

That was only a month ago. Gia used to always fall asleep while she was eating. It was something that became very relaxing. When she'd get hungry, I'd pick her up, cradle her on my lap, and close my eyes, resting, while she drank her milk and went to sleep. I'd wrap her favorite blanket around her, creating a soft hood around her face, and we'd just snuggle until she woke up or I was ready to put her in her swing. When we first got the swing, I very often transferred her to it once she was asleep; she easily stayed asleep as I lay her in it and then I was free to get anything done around the house. She's asleep in it right now! After a time, though, I missed holding her.

Gia was almost one hundred percent in someone's arms (usually mine, as I was on maternity leave) for the first few months of her life. As she got older and was able to spend more time playing in her activity gym, she was held far less. She slept less and played more, so her time in my arms was greatly reduced. Really, I only held her for extended periods of time if she were eating. So, I missed her and started holding her through most of her naps, again, instead of putting her in the swing.

Not even a month old.

But that didn't last long. Nowadays, Gia can't be held in her sleep because it's not comfortable for her. If she does fall asleep in my arms, it's only if she's breastfeeding, which is incredibly seldom because she prefers drinking from the bottle. Falling asleep while doing so is even more seldom because it has to be early morning when she's still tired enough to fall right back asleep. Otherwise, she squirms all about, trying to grab anything she can with her hand, essentially trying to play while she eats; she'll get mad, too, because the flow isn't fast enough for her. So, breastfeeding is rare enough, let alone falling asleep while doing so. If she does, though...I need to set her down fairly soon or she'll try to turn and will wake up. Basically, I don't get to hold Gia in her sleep anymore and, certainly, don't get to sleep with her in my arms.

One day, though, a few weeks ago, we had a wonderful, rare moment when, in the middle of the day, Gia was actually able to breastfeed pleasantly and fall asleep in my arms. I held her, rocking in the glider, for as long as I could allow myself and when I stood up to walk to the swing, I glanced out the window and saw that it was snowing. This winter has had next to no snowfall, but at that moment, the street looked like a snow globe. So, I just stood there, rocking my baby in my arms, watching out the window as perfect, tiny snowflakes flurried about, like we were in our own personal globe.

A moment like that hasn't happened since, until early this morning. No romantic snow fell scene, but when Gia awoke hungry early enough for it to be dark, but late enough that I could feed her without ruining her sleep schedule, I was able to pick her up and breastfeed her. She was so sleepy, she just lay there, quietly eating, until she fell asleep--when she does that, she always looks like a newborn again. I wrapped her in the blanket and took the risk of holding her as I lay back and closed my eyes. And for almost an hour I held her like that, as I drifted in and out of sleep, until I decided it was time to lay her in her crib until she was ready to get up. It was truly wonderful.

The whole time, we listened to her lullabies, which I've easily come to love. Billy and I have a Pandora playlist (called "Children's Lullabies Theme") that we put on when she's ready to nap or go to bed and it has some really great music in it. Some is the type of children's lullabies you'd come to expect, but much of it is soft, sweet music by the likes of Jewel, Norah Jones, Jack Johnson, Adele, Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, Louis Armstrong, and K.D. Lang (whose rendition of "Hallelujah" has become my favorite).

Back to this morning, though...As I said earlier, Gia is only pleasant while breastfeeding if she's just come out of sleep and can easily fall back asleep! And, of course, later in the morning when she'd woken up again, Gia was hungry and I tried to feed her...at which point she grabbed my necklace, yanking it all about (she loves to do this), and when I moved it out of reach, she started banging her hand on my arm and turning her head to look around the room. So, instead, we got up and I let her play while I pumped a bottle to give her. Much easier ;)

New Year's Eve 2011. Literally my last memory of holding Gia while she slept. 
I always wanted to get a picture of me holding her in bed, 
so I could always remember it, but like many things, I just never took the time.

Day 189: The Breastmilk vs. Formula Dilemma

I’ve been up since about 5:30 this morning—not because I couldn’t sleep or because Gianna wouldn’t, but because I had to pump. Nice time to be up on a Saturday, right?

Gianna’s doctor said to breastfeed for as long as it works for both Gianna and myself…Considering how early I'm up, just for that, I suppose you could claim it doesn’t seem to be working for me anymore. On work days, I pump first thing after my shower—so, I sit here in the living room for half an hour to forty minutes (depending on how quickly I can get downstairs) hopefully pumping until there’s nothing left. That’s about 5:30 in the morning. At work, I take a ten-minute break at nine where I can get maybe two ounces, total, since I’m restrained to only ten minutes. I repeat for my lunch break where I get maybe fifteen minutes of pump time, but often only ten (because I only have half an hour to rush home, let the dog out, use the bathroom, and pump—note: I don't eat lunch on my lunch break!). Then, I repeat, once more at work, for my second ten-minute break around 2:30. So, for three sessions in the span of ten hours, that’s what...about six ounces of milk? Gianna has an appetite for twenty four in that amount of time. Technically, I should be pumping until I’m dry each time, but that would require half an hour of my time and I’m pretty certain the people at my office might have a problem with my taking a half hour break multiple times a day. So, I settle for six ounces, and, really, no breaks.

When I get home, it’s a brand new story. I get off work at five, so I immediately pump upon arriving home and continue until there’s nothing left—that’ll bring us to some time between 5:30 and 6:00. Between 6:00 and 6:30, it becomes quiet time for Gia, which means the lights get turned down and everything that makes noise stops except for her lullabies. We feed her two or more bottles, until she’s full, and hopefully get her to sleep in under two hours. If we started any later, she surely wouldn’t be asleep until after ten. So, I often spend 6:00 to maybe 8:30 or later helping Gianna get to sleep. 

When is dinner, you wonder? I wonder too. Sometimes I’m able to eat during the sleep routine, sometimes after, sometimes not at all. Sometimes, I’m just too tired once it’s all over and want to go straight to bed. I get up at 5 am for work, so 8:30 is really, actually, my own bedtime. I simply don’t usually end up asleep at that time because I’m a) getting the baby to sleep, b) later, eating dinner, c) later, getting my food ready for the next day at work, and d) pumping, yet again. See, I need to pump before I go to bed, myself, because there’s a bottle or more of milk that I’m not about to waste. The less milk I remove, the less milk my body makes. So whether I pump, hand express, or breastfeed, I need to do it as often as possible and for as long as possible or I’ll just dry up. And that’s what’s been the problem.

Since I can pump so little at work, I’ve lost a lot of milk. Before my ten-hour days, it wasn’t quite as bad because I was able to pump every two hours like clockwork and, getting out at 3:30, I immediately breastfed Gianna. Now, I have three hours between pumping sessions at work. When I started, my production quickly decreased, not simply because of work, but because Gia was starting to have trouble breastfeeding (I think from preference to the faster flow of the bottle nipple), so milk got wasted spending so much time trying to get her to eat, and I was too busy on days off to pump. All of this meant that my body thought less milk was needed. Add to that…stress. Stress simply because of a lower milk supply. What does stress lead to? Decreased milk production…leading to more stress! It’s a vicious, unfair cycle. I spent all of last Saturday trying to relieve stress and increase oxytocin levels by having a Meg Ryan romantic comedy marathon; it didn’t work. I even lied for an hour in the bathtub singing along to some 90’s R&B to cut loose some stress. It helped the stress a little, but I wasn’t getting the warm fuzzies from the movies like I usually do (probably because of the stress!) and it simply came back the next day because I literally could only produce about two ounces for the entire day. Panic, panic, panic.

Then I found fenugreek. Fenugreek is a galactagogue. “A galacta what?” Haha…it supports milk production. And boy does it! I’m only back to my normal production, as opposed to overproduction like I’d prefer, but that’s a lot compared to the nearly nothing I was down to. It’s Saturday morning and I already have almost twenty four ounces of milk in the freezer for Monday! That means I, technically, only need to pump one more jar for the ideal supply. Easy! Of course, we’ve been supplementing with formula so that I can build up that supply, but that’s beside the point. It’s helped to bring back my supply and, thus, to relieve some stress. But this isn't the dilemma.

The dilemma is: Should I stop trying to breastfeed because it’s “not working” for me anymore? I don’t get any real breaks during my ten-hour workday. I have to wake up earlier in the morning than usual on weekends in order to stay with my pumping routine. I have to go to bed later than I should in order to stay with my pumping routine. I have to take an herbal supplement to keep my supply up (for now, at least). I have to eat unbelievable amounts of food to have any energy because the calories burned for milk production just kick my butt, not to mention the lack of sleep. I can barely even actually breastfeed my baby because the flow isn’t fast enough for her preference, so I’m reduced to, really, only pumping. I don’t even get that nice, relaxing, snuggly time with my baby while she eats and falls asleep like she used to. Instead, I sit here either holding up two electric pumps or staring into a jar while I work it manually (because, honestly, the pump just can’t get it all) for half an hour or more—really relaxing, right? So, honestly, it’s not a stretch to say that breastfeeding is no longer working…for me.

So, formula, right? We’ve been supplementing to help me out. Also, it mixes with Gianna’s rice cereal a lot better (breastmilk is so much thinner, you need at least twice as much cereal in order for it not to be pure liquid). But you know what? It smells disgusting. I don’t know if it’s because we’re using soy formula (babies under one year aren’t supposed to have dairy, but we don’t drink dairy anyway—we drink soy), but it’s really unappealing. Gianna had the sweetest breath until formula.

Also, the ingredients are not what I’d call ideal. There’s sugar and corn syrup in it! Corn syrup! I had no plans to feed my six-month-old corn syrup. I have no plans to feed my one-year-old (when she gets there) corn syrup. I’m very serious about Gianna maintaining a healthy diet—about her thinking fruit is a sweet snack and having no idea who Little Debbie is or how good her snack cakes taste. I even want her to eat organic produce and meats. So, corn syrup for my six-month-old was not and is not in the plan.

Also, as we speak, I’m on my third cold in three months. A new cold every month! You could say my current cold isn’t even a new one—I’ve been hacking up mucous ever since my last one started four weeks ago and my throat has persistently been a little irritated. Has Gianna been sick, though? No. Absolutely no form of illness in any way, whatsoever, since birth. Outside of some crabbiness and fever brought on by vaccine shots, she’s been as healthy as healthy can be. Sleeping next to me, drinking straight from my illness-riddled body, she hasn’t gotten so much as a cough. I absolutely believe we have breast milk to thank. And do you know what the bottle of formula says? Literally, no lie, the bottle of formula states “Breastfeeding is recommended.” Who can argue with that?

Breast milk is simply better. I want the best for my baby—only the best. As long as I can give that, why would I go any other route? Even if I can only give her two bottles of breast milk a day, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m okay with a little formula here and there—the corn syrup really kills me and I'm hoping, perhaps, the powder doesn't contain that (though, I'm probably wrong), but I'm willing to set that issue aside for my own sanity—but nothing beats sweet, antibody-filled milk straight from the source that was meant to give it.

Am I starving? You bet. Am I tired? Beyond. Is the stress from that worth giving my baby the best nutrition? Definitely. Plus, with increased calorie intake and not an inch of physical work, I weigh twelve pounds less than I did before becoming pregnant. What was meant to be, was meant to be!

Breast milk. It does a body good. (I have wished, for so long, that breastfeeding activists would team up with the "Got Milk?" people to make ads featuring little babies with breast milk mustaches!)

Disclaimer: I feel strongly about the breast milk vs. formula dilemma. There's a real discussion inside that I haven't put forth in this entry, which is more about my struggle to continue breastfeeding rather than society's struggle with the promotion of it. And, while I feel breast milk is best, I, in no way, look down upon those who cannot breastfeed, whatever the reason, or who choose not to. I truly hope my statements don't offend as that is never my intention. And to those who have felt my struggle, you're not alone!