Sometimes I feel like a defective cow

So with a lot of talk out there about breastfeeding I decided to throw my hat into the ring. Breastfeeding sucks!! So why do I continue to do it? I really don't have a good answer for that. I would love to go with the breast is best philosophy and say that's why I do it. But the truth is, I do it because of the cost. I already had a good electric pump from when Jacob was born and I hate to not use it to get my moneys worth. Pathetic, huh? So I started to think about my experience with breastfeeding.
The horrors of flat nipples, a bad latch and a screaming baby should have turned me off from breastfeeding forever. Before my first son was born I knew I was going to breastfeed him. There was no question about it. I just took it for granted that I would have a baby and he would feed off of me. I never even knew I had "semi-flat" nipples, as the LC liked to call them. So when Jacob was born and he wouldn't latch I was crushed. As a new mom I didn't understand why my baby was rejecting me. I had gone through 37 hours of labor to bring him into this world, I was exhausted and I just wanted to feed my baby. Instead I was left frustrated. I ended up using a dropped to give him formula. Then after several more failed attempts, the lactation consultant brought me my doom, a nipple guard. This was the worst decision I could have made. It made nursing a pain in the butt. I always had to have the guard with me. I had to put it on, line him up and let him feed. Then the milk would pool up in the end of it and would no longer adhere to my skin and I would have a puddle of milk spilled into my lap. We tried and tried to wean Jacob off of the guard and directly onto my breast, but it was too frustrating for both of us. During the 10 weeks that I breastfed, my milk supply dwindled making me feel even more inadequate as a mom. The best decision I made for my son and myself was to stop breastfeeding and use formula. We were both much happier.
This time I had no delusions about breastfeeding Daniel. I was going to give it a try, but I wasn't going to make myself crazy over it. So when Daniel was born after a very easy labor I attempted breastfeeding. It was a little tricky, but he got it! He really got it. I was surprised at the amount of elation I had over something so simple. The following day while Daniel was nursing I had blood drawn. During that time Daniel lost his latch and d reattached himself on me incorrectly (I couldn't adjust him b/c of the blood draw being done). Shortly after this, a very aggressive LC came into my room and saw the bruising on my nipple. She declared we can't have that and started to "help" me. I instantly remembered her from Jacob's birth and knew I didn't like her. She had been very forceful with Jacob. She pushed his face into my breast trying to force him to latch. Now I have huge tatas and this was very traumatizing to him, which I think hurt our later attempts at breastfeeding so there was no way I was going to let this woman do the same thing to Daniel. I told her I felt OK with how things were going. She took one look at my nipples and said my son was not going to do well on my breast. You see, my aereola tissue gets very dense and fibrous. It's almost like scar tissue and it was difficult for Daniel to latch on to. She said she would get me a nipple guard so he could latch. Well you should have seen the look of disgust on her face when I said NO! There was no way in hell I was going down that road again. I said either he latches and gets breast or he doesn't and he'll get formula and expressed milk. She snottily said if I was OK with that then fine. I said I was perfectly fine with it.
Well here I am 10 weeks later. I have days when I wonder what the hell am I doing still trying to breastfeed? I am having a hot and torrid affair with my pump twice a day at work. I pump before I come to work. I give Daniel a boob when I get home and then throughout the night. But it's not that simple. There are frequent times when he is just too fussy or upset to go on the breast. He writhes and wriggles and screams, so I get upset. I'm back to that rejection state. Why doesn't my baby want me? And I know it's not a rejection of me in my mind, but my heart tells a different tale. The thing that's killing me with the whole breastfeeding thing is that just when I'm ready to throw in the towel and say to Hell with this, we have a great feeding session. He'll latch right away, feed quickly and become content. And so I say…this isn't so bad and I decide to keep breastfeeding only to hit those roadblocks again and again. So with all of this endless babbling, I'm not sure what I will end up doing. It is a day by day decision for me and it is hard.

That's life

So this woman goes to her gynecologist one day for her annual check-up. In the middle of the exam , the doctor exclaims he has never seen such a large hole!! Well, the woman jumps off the table absolutely horrified, grabs her clothes and storms out of the office.
When she arrives home she is all worked up and wonders 'Just how big can it be?'
So she grabs a mirror off the wall and places it on the floor. She then strips down naked and stands over the mirror with a foot on each side. At this moment her husband walks in and sees her standing there naked.
"Dear, what are you doing?" the hubby questions.
"Oh, just practicing some new dance steps"
To which the husband responded "Fine dear, just watch out for that big hole in the floor, I'd hate for you to fall in".

And that my friends is a little post partum insight.

Brothers

Editing to say that I am in the tub with the boys. DH was just kind enough to leave me out of the shot. I guess he knows the value of his life! LOL.

Coo Coo Cachoo & baby smiles too.

It's been a while since I've updated. Baby Daniel has been smiling since about 5 weeks and coos and aaahs too. He is a much easier baby than Jacob was and he has a hold on my heart. I love when he smiles at me. I get the best smiles when he is on the changing table and I ooh and aah over him. The spitting up has slowed down, yay! and the gas can be managed with Mylecon drops for the most part. I returned to work this week and have really bonded with my pump. I feel like Elsie the defective cow because I pump and pump, but don't seem to get enough to appease my lil man's appetite. I've been pumping since his birth, but have never been able to build up a stash. Oh well, he doesn't mind the formula, but it can bind him up. So I started Fenugreek and Mother's Milk tea today to try to boost my supply.
I took Daniel for his 8 week check-up last week and he is now 23 1/2" (21" at birth) and now weighs 13lbs 3oz (9lb7oz at birth, low was 8lbs 10oz). SO it seems like my lil monkey is growing. I've just pulled out the 3-6 month clothing, the 0-3 month is too short. Well my mind is blank (it seems to be a permanent state of oblivion these days), so I'll wrap it up. I just wanted to send out Congrats to all of the sistas who just welcomed their new bundles of love into their arms and continued prayers for those still waiting for their sweet ones to continue to grow until the time comes for them to meet their parents. And a very special prayer to those that are still waiting... Waiting for a BFP, waiting for a child that has already been born and just hasn't met the parents that were meant for them and waiting for peace to come to them about any decisions they need to make on how to bring that child into their lives.

We interupt your regularly scheduled programming for this break in mental health.

I felt I needed to do a tribute for mother's day. How can I dislike my own mother so much? Isn't that just an aweful way to feel? Fortunately my brother is visiting and we can comiserate together. My mother made her children her life, we were everything and she made sure we knew it. The layers of guilt she has placed upon us have been suffocating and it's really not working anymore. Example; She called the other night to say (her words) "Imagine how horrible and embarrased I felt when my very own neighbor showed up at my door with a picture of my grandson" (It was the birth announcement and her neighbor is my aunt). I was floored and after quickly regaining my composure I explained to her that I had given her the birth announcement in person the week prior. She had no recollection of this and her response was "Oh". No I'm sorry. And you know what my thoughts were....'In your face!!!' Of course I didn't say that (except to my brother and husband). She always pulls this kind of guilt crap. And I am sick of it. I always thought my mom championed over so many things in her life and am now left wondering if what I see her as now is how she has always been. It would explain why there is so much family strife amongst her brothers and sisters.
And I have my dad (who is divorced from my mom) showing up on my doorstep out of the blue to let me know he is pissed at my mom. He just found out that she didn't have the money to pay her taxes and asked my brother for it. This happened last year. And you know what, she doesn't have the money again this year. I refuse to pay. My brother refuses to pay. I have been asking her all year if she is going to have the money. When she was frivously spending money at the holidays I asked her to please use the money for bills or her taxes and she ignored me. I cannot bail her out. They are potentially going to lose their home and I asked if she's heard anymore about the status and she says no. But, no news is good news, right. This floors me. Wouldn't you be doing everything in your power to find out what you need to do to keep your home? I can't believe how much anger I have toward her.
Oh and my dad is also worried my brother (not the one I share confidences with) is about to have a psychotic break and is worried for his own safety and my mother's and step-dads and is also concerned about my kids and would like me to keep them "away" from him. I can't do that. I don't leave my kids alone with my brother, but my dad has a point. If my brother snaps (which he has done in the past, more than once) I could be in serious trouble. My brother is 350+lbs and when he snaps he is not "there". He and my father ended up going through a sliding glass door last time. And one time my brother completely tore apart my mothers wooden bed with his bare hands. How do I handle this?
And we are back to my anger. I am angry because I do not have a "normal" family. I have a brother where i have to worry about if he's about to "snap" and how I keep myself and my children safe. I have a mother who I never measured up to as daughter material. She wants this emotional bond between us that she has always forced upon me and has only resulted in me pulling further away. She didn't speak to me for a few days because I didn't want her to be around when I delivered Daniel, I wanted to call her. She also proceded to call me an ungrateful bitch to my brother. Anyway...Happy Mothers Day.