It was two weeks before my due date. I kept waking up all night to go pee like fifty billion times. I just had a TON of pressure. Daniel snoozed his alarm for work and as we were laying there I was like, hmmm… actually, these are contractions. Regular contractions.
I slapped Dan’s arm and was like “Hey, I keep having false labor contractions.” Haha, so let me go into this: when I had Jack he came a week late. So I FULLY expected to deliver much later. Like I was seriously looking into an elective induction if the baby was going to go longer than his due date. My mom had bought an airplane ticket to arrive ON his due date and then stay the next couple of weeks after. Soooo “denial” is going to be a strong theme here.
Because my mom wasn’t coming for another two weeks, I was majorly stressed out about who would watch Jack in the event I had to go to the hospital. My dad had GENEROUSLY offered to hop on a plane moments notice if it came to that but Hey Man… I had better been pretty dang sure I was in labor before telling my dad to drop everything and fly to Pheonix. So as you can imagine I was preggy stress crying about it. Dan talked me down. He texted my dad just letting him know what was going on and then I sent him to work, telling him that it was “probably nothing”.
I took a shower and ate breakfast *just in case*. I still wasn’t super convinced that they weren’t false contractions, so I decided to lay on my side for a minute to see if they would go away. They most certainly did not. They were ten minutes apart and every other one sucked worse than the last. I called my dad because I was about to have a friggin’ panic attack on whether I should tell him to fly to Arizona or not. He said he had already looked into flights. (He was obviously more convinced than me.) My dad told me to call the doctor to see what he thought. I was super unsure about doing that, because OBVIOUSLY the doctor would just say, “Yeah? How about wait until they are five minutes apart lasting one minute for a whole hour and then just go to the hospital. Why are you bothering me with this?”
I decided to call the doctor and waste his time anyways. At first I got the emergency answering service which I thought was really odd because it was past nine and that’s normal business hours. The conversation went like this:
RECEPTIONIST: And what’s the purpose of this call?
ME: I’ve been having contractions all morning. They’re ten minutes apart. I just want to know what the doctor thinks I should do.
RECEPTIONIST: Okay, but is this an emergency?
ME: … … Um, I’m in labor?
So they send the page out and my actual doctor’s office calls me back. I told them I was contracting every ten minutes and they countered with hey, go to the hospital. I was floored. They told me it was likely I was laboring during the night since I had pressure. My doctor was already at the hospital doing a surgery so they told me I might as well go in and get checked.
I called Daniel at work like Hey I know you’ve only been there for an hour but come home and drive me to the hospital. Then I called my dad and told him we would soon know whether it was real or not.
So we get all checked in. I’m totally calm and like whatever, not even in any pain or anything. I was totally sure I was only a one. I packed my bag SO half-a$$ed because I was like oh, they’re just sending me home anyways. Like I didn’t even pack underwear or a hairbrush. So when they told me I was at a three, I was like… wut?
Me: Am I having a kid today?
Nurse: Let’s just keep you for a while and see…
At 12:30 she came back in to check. I was still at a three which was like, oh good, send me home I want lunch I’m friggin starving. But she kinda hesitated and was like you know what let’s just have you walk around for like an hour and see what happens.
(I should also mention that we had Jack with us this whole time. He was such a good kid! I was really impressed with him. I thought that he would be somewhere between being bored or traumatized, but he was super excited to be out of the house and playing with Daddy.)
We were given the green light to walk around the hospital and I immediately waddled my fat butt down to the cafeteria. Look. When you are at the hospital in labor, they don’t let you eat anything for a long time… and that’s rough because I’m a pig. So oink, oink. That’s what I chose to do, okay! I was SUPER big and pregnant in nothing but my flimsy hospital gown and socks walking through the cafeteria trying to decide what I was going to eat. It’s fine, I’m sure everyone knew why I was there and that I didn’t have anything contagious. I mean, only my husband could have given them what I had. ANYWAY I chose to eat a fruit cup, because even though I was starving this labor thing was getting pretty real and I knew that things would get intense later that night.
But I was wrong. Not about the fruit cup, but about things getting intense much later. Things got intense RIGHT THEN, REALLY FAST and REEEEEALLY painful. The walking just like dropped him down or something I don’t know, because it hadn’t even been ten minutes out of triage before I was feeling like I was about to die.
We ate quickly and I could barely even make it back to the room. The labor was insane. When I was in labor with Jack, I was having contractions that lasted five minutes a piece instead of the conventional ONE. Well. Yeah. That was happening again. When the delivery nurse came in to transfer me she took one look at my face and walkie talkied for the anesthesiologist to meet us in the delivery room. Which I was super glad about… well sort of.
WARNING!! If you are pregnant or planning to become pregnant, you may want to skip this section of the birth story and just start reading onwards from 5:30. Horror story ahead.
So here’s another comparison to my first labor and delivery: with Jack my epidural was AMAZING. I didn’t feel it at all. It worked perfectly. It was like the golden standard of epidurals, really. With Casey. Holy balls. This was the worst thing about the whole entire delivery and when I say horror story, look, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
By the time the anesthesiologist came in, I was in full blown labor. I had escalated from a 3cm dilation to a 5… IN HALF AN HOUR. Things were nuts! I was like hysterical. It was crazy. I mean, ME, I was crazy. Daniel had left to take Jack to a babysitter out in the parking lot and I was bawling out of control saying stuff like, “Please don’t do anything until my husband comes back. I want my husband, I’m so frightened. I just want my husband!” He came back in, but the hysteria didn’t go away. I felt delirious. Like, I felt like I wasn’t even myself and I was trapped in this painful body watching myself go bonkers. They were trying to give me specific advice on how to sit and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell right from left, the pain was just so overwhelming. I even remember yelling at the nurse, “I’m hurting so much that I can’t even comprehend what you’re telling me right now!”
They attempted to put the epidural in but it DIDN’T GO. I actually felt it stab me in the spine. Like I know what it feels like to have your spine STABBED from the INSIDE. It was a horrific pain… on top of an already horrific pain. Looking back, I don’t think that it was the doctor’s fault. I think it was because I was so out of it with the labor and like having a panic attack and stuff that I just couldn’t sit well enough for them to do it correctly.
It took 35 minutes for them to get my epidural in. They may not seem as bad as it is, so try to imagine this: You are having one of the most generally recognized worse pains in the world cramping your body for full minutes at a time and making you hysterical… while at the same time someone is behind you, literally stabbing you in the spine the same area where most of your nerve endings are. Okay, THAT is what it was for 35 FREAKING MINUTES. Like… an entire episode of The Office is 20 minutes. You could finish watching Diversity Day and I would STILL be getting poked with a needle on a hospital bed for ALMOST ANOTHER EPISODE MORE with tears dripping into my husband’s helpless arms.
But I will say this… Even with how painful that medieval spinal tap was… IT WAS STILL WORTH IT BY FAR. So I hope that tells you something about how hard it is to deliver a baby. And I also hope that you give your mother a phone call today.
After I got the epidural, things were calm, borderline boring. Jack was gone and well taken care of. My dad was on his way from the airport. Dan was working on projects, of course, because residents ARE SLAVES. If I had been delivering at his hospital, they probably would’ve made him do some rounds while he waited. Nothing too eventful happened here. I took a little video and hung out. I was basically paralyzed I was so numbed up, my back was still sore though.
At six or maybe even later, the doctor came in and broke my water. I was at a nine by then. The nurse said that they were going to wait until I could absolutely no longer take the pressure anymore and then they would have me push. She said it would be worth it to hold out as long as possible because then I would have to push less. So I just kinda sat there wondering if I was going to be able to feel it if a baby started coming out of me.
I felt the pressure pretty soon afterwards. They checked me, I was a ten. I remember the nurse said, “Yeah, there’s no more cervix.” Gnarly. I had the shakes so bad. They were like violent. I wasn’t hurting, but I was shivering like crazy.
MORE SEMI HORROR MOSTLY JUST GROSS DETAILS HERE. You can skip this paragraph too if you want. So I had to puke so bad. And this exact same thing happened when I was pushing with Jack. I was told that the before the baby comes out, his head rests on a nerve that makes you super nauseous. You don’t feel the pain of it because of the epidural, but the pressure wants to make you barf. Well I was trying so hard to hold in my DANG FRUIT CUP. And honestly, you know when you are trying not to throw up like you can’t even move or talk or breathe or anything. Finally, my nurse said, “Just go ahead and do it, it will help push the baby out anyways.” Hahaha! So I was like, yup, I’m there, and I let it all out. And she was freaking right, dude! I literally felt the baby get pushed down when I puked. You use the same muscles to throw up / push a baby out. ANYWHO. Not sure why I felt the need to include all that, but there you go. All the honest and disgusting details of birth.
So they get me ready to push. They basically had to hoist my BUM LEGS into the stirrups because I was so dead down there. I did three sets of pushing during contractions. (For your information, in between contractions is hilariously awkward. I was sitting there all spread eagle while my doctor stands at my hooha, hands on his hips talking about “how he knew I would beat the gal in nine because it’s my second time.” It’s all casual and every day for them. For me, it’s all naked and life-changing and this big medical trauma.)
That was a tangent. Hi! Okay, back to Casey.
Three sets of pushing and he was out. POP! It was like ten minutes of pushing. Maybe five. With Jack I remembered sobbing and being SO melodramatic and yelling, “My son! My son!”. With Casey, I was still in so much shock at his early arrival that I just stared at him with a stupid look on my face, feeling super confused at how the whole day went.
He was so pink and had lots of hair and chubby cheeks. He is this easy-going lovey-bug! And I couldn’t be more thrilled to have him as an addition to our family.
Sweet baby comes this month! Aaaah! In the past few weeks, I went from scared to peacefully accepting to REALLY excited! Not that the anxiety has gone totally away. With Daniel’s medical residency, being far away from family and navigating a clingy toddler, doubling my number of kids will definitely be a challenge but I’m just ready for it all. Ready to fall in love all over again.
Anyways, in honor of it being his birth month (well, month of his due date) here is the exact moment I found out he existed! Enjoy!
PS. Yes, I know this is 2018, but I’m a freaking grandma and I don’t know how to hold my phone horizontal when taking video.
Had an ultrasound of our new little boy the other day. He was moving a lot (per his norm) and even got the hiccups which was kind of fun to see.
He’s big. Which I kind of figured because I was really ballooning out but not gaining any weight. They told me that I’m measuring at 28 weeks and he’s in the 65th percentile for size. To which I was like, cool… I’m not even 28 weeks yet…
SOOOOOOOOOOOOO that’s going to come out of me in a few months.
But everything looks good. Everything is super healthy and going well! They were able to get some pretty detailed pictures so I wanted a chance to show them off:
Seeing my little boy’s face for kind of the first time made me tear up. (Although everything makes me tear up when I’m pregnant haha) With everything that has been going on, I haven’t really been able to spend a lot of attention on this new little one. (Middle child, much?) But getting caught up on ultrasound and seeing him so clearly, it made me feel really excited to meet him!
Hey, did you fall for the clickbait? Good for you! Curiosity is one of the most powerful traits of humanity. So just by clicking on this proves how naturally intelligent you are. Also you’re looking super good lately. Did you do something with your hair?
If you haven’t already scrolled down to find out the gender, you can. It’s intertwined with some funny stories and sappy stuff, which you’re welcome to read if you have the time.
Basically, I didn’t want to announce the gender until it was a FOR SURE thing. I was told my first born was a girl. Definitely a girl, the doctor said, 100% sure. So I immediately went to announce it the best way that I know… with some really lengthy written prose of course!
I wrote this super flowery Facebook post about how hard it is to be a girl and live up to society’s unrealistic standards. Everyone loved it. And shared it and everything.
And then I go to my next ultrasound.
Technician: Did you want to find out the gender?
Me: Oh, we already know it’s a girl.
Technician: Are you sure?
So then I had to go and retract my announcement like the over-eager failure that I am. Cool. That wasn’t embarrassing at all. We cut our losses and went out to Dickey’s to celebrate. THANK YOU, INTERNET! I’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK! *drops mic*
Soooo anyone about to do one of those fancy reveal parties? Learn from my mistake!
But this time we are very sure, pretty convinced, saw a lil’ somethin’ somethin’ on the ultrasound, almost positive that we are having…
So since it’s official that I will be very much a “boy mom”. I wrote a different sappy prose, this time addressed to my two darling boys.
You have come into this world two (devastatingly handsome, probably) white boys. With this comes a lot of privileges, but a lot of pressures and responsibilities. The world will expect that you try to make yourself a superhero… but what I’m telling you is that the world doesn’t know what a real superhero is.
A real superhero doesn’t have this perfect beach body. He cares less about what others think of him and more about how he thinks of others. A real superhero doesn’t have to throw the last punch. He turns the other cheek. A real superhero doesn’t always have to get the girl in the end. He respects her as a sincere friend (even when that girl is really cute and you kinda lowkey wish you were more than friends). A real superhero doesn’t wear a mask. He isn’t afraid to be himself, and have emotions and be a REAL PERSON. A real superhero doesn’t have unbelievable super strength. Sometimes he gets up in the morning and faces the battles that people don’t talk about… and it’s okay. He’s still a hero.
When you stand up for someone, you’re a superhero. When you embrace your uniqueness, you’re a superhero. And when you understand your weaknesses, you’re a superhero.
And no matter what, you will always be a superhero to me. So you can just go ahead and trash what the world thinks.
But hey! You don’t have to be a boy or a girl to want a SUPER EPIC PARTY. If you’re looking to throw an event to top all other events, let me point you in the right direction. Epic Party Events brings an unforgettable experience right to your front door. They have a trailer that hosts 8 4k TV’s and 15 Game consoles. Not to mention photo booths, virtual reality, and yard games.
Hey, so it’s been a million years. Did you miss me? I basically ended up scrapping March, because my morning sickness was soooo harsh that I couldn’t even look at a non blue-light computer screen for more than 45 minutes without puking. I went from the best productivity of my entire writing life to the lyrics of “Lump” real quick.
Oh yeah, but did you catch that? I’M PREGNANT Y’ALL! BABY NUMBER TWO IS DUE IN OCTOBER!
That’s only the first announcement.
I knew 2018 would be crazy. I sensed its scent like a lion crouching in the savannah grass. I just didn’t know it would be this crazy.
Don’t get me wrong, the baby was in no way an accident, but it still was a surprise. I had been having some health issues with my ovaries and infertility runs in my family. In fact, I was scheduled to check my egg supply and some other things when bam! Turns out I’m more than fine.
I can’t think of a clever transition into the next big piece of news, so I’ll just blurt it out instead. WE’RE MOVING TO ARIZONA Y’ALL!
Dan is graduating pharmacy school in May aaaaaaand he got offered a residency position at a Banner hospital in Mesa.
I thought that I would be really scared to move far away, but it turns out that I’m actually really excited. And I can tell that I’m really excited because I do what I always do whenever I have a new adventure, or a book project, or a crush or something… which is bite my lip on baited breath waiting for someone to bring up “the thing”.
Plus not to mention the awesome job opportunities that will be available to my post-resident-doctor-husband.
Things are good. And exciting. And also terrifying… but like a rollercoaster terrifying where you still want to ride it. I don’t know, it’s great! But it will be even better when I’m not a lump sitting alone in a boggy marsh. Now excuse me while I go toss up my lunch. 😷
PS Check out this weird Easter Egg from the photo I used for our Christmas cards…
My resolution for 2018 has been to “try not to automatically assume the worst thing is going to happen”. And to start out the new year we really put my fears to the test by taking our 18-month-old on a very ambitious vacation.
It’s hard. Maybe it’s a mother bear thing, because eventually you train yourself to predict what will happen with your child. “Don’t play near that table, you’re going to knock your teeth out. Don’t sit on the sofa like that, you are going to fall backwards. Everyone hide all phones and remotes or we’re about to have a meltdown.” As our vacation drew near all I could think about were my disastrous predictions. But you know what? Overall, I will say that my negative expectations were very much proven wrong.
THURSDAY: SHIPPING OFF (AS IT WERE)
Expectation: Jack will throw a HUGE tantrum on the plane and it will be a miserable two hours.
Reality: Jack did fine on the plane. Everything else went wrong.
Seriously. Jack on the plane, total angel. Trying to get on the plane. PBBBBBBBTTTTTTTHPPPPPPPPT! (In case you couldn’t tell that was me blowing a raspberry with my thumb pointed down) Our boarding pass didn’t print. Security was backed up. My baby food tested positive for bomb material for some reason. (TF!?) The amount of freaking money we spent on a Taxi, I was like, really? Why don’t you just float us across the pacific then for that kind of room and board.
Finally, we made it onto the ship and met up with family. Then I could focus on the SINGLE BIGGEST FEAR of the trip…
Expectation: Jack wont sleep a wink in his stranger danger porta crib.
Reality: Jack slept so deep that he might have slipped into several comas. I’m not sure
When we went camping to witness the Solar Eclipse… it was a nightmare, okay. We had to take turns sleeping in the car to actually get our child to stop screaming at least. This time, zonked. He didn’t care. He didn’t even wake up through the several announcements and alarms leading up to the mandatory safety meeting. Neither did Dan. The two would’ve gone down with the ship, still synchronize snoring in the cabin.
Turned out, not even a marching band could wake this child. He slept through lights being turned on, he slept through us talking and laughing at normal volume. He even slept through the Disneyland fireworks show which sounded like a full on air raid TBH.
Expectation: We won’t be able to see much of Mexico and have to come back early so Jack can nap on the ship.
Reality: We got to do a day excursion and Jack napped on the go.
See, I told you about the sleeping thing.
We got to do some street shopping and see ‘La Bufadora’, which is like the Old Faithful of the Mexican coastline. “Really?” No, not really at all actually, but still. AND THE TACOS OMG! If you are wondering whether I purchased a very expensive cruise ticket just for Mexican tacos… then you clearly have never had authentic Mexican tacos. Good day, sir. I SAID GOOD DAY.
SATURDAY: A CHOPPY DAY AT SEA
Expectation: It will be rough keeping Jack entertained.
Reality: It was rough keeping Jack from having fun.
All this kid wanted to do was run around. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Lapping the length of the ship over and over. Up, up, up and down, down, dooooooownnn each and every staircase he could find. He had to explore every single inch of the ship. The Casino, the smoking areas, fire station units, stranger’s cabins. I swear, Jack’s dream vacation would be to go to a giant enclosed football stadium, have someone wind up the key in his back and spend the week doing endurance training. It was hard to get him to SIT DOWN. Or you know, step away from the toddler-sized gaps in the railing on the upper deck.
SUNDAY: TAR PITS, HOLLYWOOD, LOTS OF DRIVING
Expectation: We will be twiddling our thumbs all day.
Reality: We did tons of fun stuff. It turned out to be one of my favorite days.
We had nothing planned for this day, other than we knew we would do something with my husband’s side of the family (with whom we shared the cruise with) and then something with my side of the family later on (with whom we were to share Disneyland with). But none of us, really had any plans in mind. So we ended up hanging around Hollywood.
AND IT WAS AWESOME.
Okay, so I had never been to the tar pits before. We ended up spur of the moment going there… I turned into a nine year old boy. I just REALLY needed to see something sink into that tar. So I peer pressured [bullied] my husband until he threw a big rock in there AND IT WAS SO CEWL OMG LIKE SOMETHING STRAIGHT OUT OF AN ODDLY SATISFYING COMPILATION ON THE YOUTUBES!
Afterwards we all had a nice uplifting Sabbath lunch at Hard Rock Cafe. Somehow my baby slept through like 40 minutes of concert-level music. (Why do I worry about things?) He of course later woke up to get in on rocking out. –Hard Rock Cafe is kinda like my thang. So I was very hyper and talkative [annoying?]–
Hard Rock Cafe also happened to be neighbors with Grauman’s Chinese Theater, so we stopped there too because eh, why not?
Expectation: Jack wont be able to do much.
Reality: There was so much for Jack to ride that we didn’t even get to all of it.
Someone once told me that there isn’t a lot for babies to do at Disneyland, but THAT AIN’T TRUE! I think it’s easier to name the rides that babies CAN’T go on than the ones that they can. I can’t say the same for California Adventures but at the OG uhhhh YEAH! It’s a family place for a reason.
Pluuuuus Grandma and Grandpa took Jack back to the hotel for his afternoon nap. While Dan and I got to ride all the big people rides. Yeah, whassup Indiana Jones and the Temple of the Forbidden Eye. Space Mountain I’m looking at you, sailor. It was the best date ever.
NUMBER ONE TAKE AWAY ADVICE FOR PARENTS WANTING TO BRING TODDLERS ON VACATION: Bring other adults with you. Seriously, it was a relief both on the cruise and at the amusement-park-designed-specifically-for-parents-to-enjoy-with-their-children-but-maybe-he-enjoyed-his-nap-tho-shuttup.
TUESDAY: DISNEY BEFORE THE TREK HOME
Expectation: Disneyland would be rained out and half closed.
Reality: It was ABSOLUTELY the most darling and wonderful Disney day.
The days we went to Disneyland were the days California decided to flood.
We were gearing up for our underwater Disneyland tour, when guess what? It turned out to be a perfectly sunny day. (And the crowds were frightened away too) Walked on to every ride, had a marvelous time. And OH NOT TO MENTION. Jack just happened to meet his hero after riding the Winnie the Pooh ride a few times in a row.
Let’s play a game, who is more excited to meet Pooh. Jack or Mom?
It was a lovely trip and here’s my takeaway… That scary thing you’re thinking of doing? Look, you should just do it. It’s likely that your expectation of an EPIC FAIL may actually be just an expectation and nothing more.
I think I felt less sexy in my post partum body then when I was pregnant. Seeing that weird little pooch hanging down there… I felt like I was still pregnant only now with a deflated basketball.
Here are four different things that I did, that seemed to help A LOT that year after I gave birth.
#1: I bought a new bra!
Looking at pictures of myself and my new body… all I could see was an orangutan.
And I honestly thought that it was because I was fat. But you know what? One day I tried on a new bra at the store and ba-bye orangutan shape. No kidding. I went from slouchy beanbag to curvy and feminine in one second. Pregnancy, breastfeeding, all of it! It changes your girls. And when you give them a new support, you give them new life. It works! I’m serious!
#2: I started taking my baby on walks.
I knew I had to get active. But how? Now you have a tiny little person that you can’t tote to the gym. And plus I hate working out, so there’s that. I secretly tried to learn the dance from the “Hideaway” music video… and threw out my back. (Not actually a joke) So after that point I was like… I have a stroller, let’s stroll.
I LOVED IT! And so did Jack! It was so nice to get out and about. Super non-intensive. And every walk was a little adventure!
#3: I gave up soda.
This one hurt.
I am the queen of soda. I have a serious Mormon drinking problem. But I knew that if I actually wanted to lose any baby weight I had to trade in my sugary crutch. After I gave up soda, I lost 10 lbs in two months. So it’s always good to re-examine what small things are holding you back and decide what you can try to give up.
#4: I gave it time.
This is the answer you don’t want to hear, but it really is true. Getting back to your old body takes time. You grew a human inside of you! You’re amazing! Don’t tell yourself that you’re not amazing just because your body is normalizing after giving someone life! Give yourself time. It will happen.
TMI warning: In this post I will be talking about my anatomy. Probably a lot. So if you are uncomfortable with reading about that I suggest you skip this one. Here, I’ll sum it up for you: I wasn’t physically able to feed my baby without a bottle, but I ended up being okay with it.
You’re still good with reading? Okay… ’cause I’m about to talk about my boobies… Last chance.
Well here’s something you probably didn’t want to know about me. I have inverted nipples. Yep. #noshame If you don’t know what that is, you’re probably imagining a couple of funnels. Thankfully that’s not what it is. It just means that my nipples are completely flush to my breasts. Which, aesthetically I’m cool with but was hell when I tried to breastfeed my newborn. I mean, poor thing, honestly. That would be like trying to drink out of a bowling ball.
Those first few nights at the hospital really sucked. Really. Every two hours I would have a WHOLE TEAM of nurses forcing my screaming baby onto my chest. To make things worse, he had a tongue tie. The doctor had to cut the skin under his tongue in hopes that he would be able to latch easier. He didn’t.
It was all a bit of a traumatic experience for me as a new mom. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the resources because I had MORE THAN ENOUGH. Too much probably. I had two separate lactation experts, one gave me a fake plastic nipple and an IV drip to supplement with formula. That was its own nightmare. Using the supplement system was a two man job. My husband would have to help me assemble and hang it all up. It took us forever. And then it wouldn’t stay suctioned cupped to my boob because there wasn’t anything for it to hold onto. I would be COVERED in formula by the end. It was such a mess.
I tried to pump milk to give him, but I couldn’t get enough out. I even remember spoon feeding him milk. Finally, I was like… look… I’m already “supplementing” with formula, I might as well switch to fully formula bottle feeding.
When I made the switch it was such a peaceful and calming thing. It was wonderful. I loved it. His weight and height shot up like crazy! He was fed and I felt like a successful mom.
If you too are struggling with breastfeeding, know that whatever you decide IT IS OKAY! I truly believe that every mother should raise their child in their own beautiful way.
Here are some reasons why I loved bottle feeding, if you are considering switching:
1. Daddy was now a part of that bonding experience.
It was so nice being able to have my husband feed the baby every now and then. We could take shifts during those long nights and I could actually sleep! I got breaks every now and then and my husband LOVED feeding the baby.
2. I knew exactly how much my son was eating.
When the pediatrician asked how much he was eating I replied without missing a beat. 4 oz every 2 hours. I really liked this aspect of bottle feeding because it helped me keep a better schedule.
3. My body was my own again.
I feel a bit ungrateful mentioning this reason, but it’s true. When you’re pregnant you are always worried about what you’re eating or doing. That doesn’t stop after you’ve had the baby and you’re breastfeeding. I remember feeling a sense of relief when I gave up breastfeeding! I could eat spicy foods again! Yay!
Trying to make the right choices as a mother is SO HARD and SO guilt-inducing. Be kind to those mommas out there because I promise they already worry that they’re not doing enough for their child.
You are. You are the right mom that your child needs. I promise.