I would include a REAL photo with this post, but it would not be a pretty one. Just me in my cotton pajamas, bags under my eyes, pasty skin, looking like a sleep deprived mother of a cluster-feeding, breastfed infant that isn’t on any sort of schedule yet. [Thank God for church friends bringing meals and homeschooling which allows for naps.] However, I don’t think a photo of me at this juncture would win me any additional blog traffic, nor do I want anyone using it to blackmail me one day. Wouldn’t want my little dude to feel guilty for torturing his mama one day, either… in case he happened in here to read my blog.
So instead, I’m sharing this calf that I photographed last October… and the story of how I’m feeling quite a lot like a cow lately.
I managed to get the baby to take the breast again after we had to supplement formula due to late milk arrival and his being a large baby that was getting jaundice and dehydrating in the first week. He was preferring the bottle (lazy little bugger), but the nipple shields that Medela makes sufficiently tricked him back to breastfeeding. Now that he’s breastfeeding, though, he seems to want a Jersey Cow rather than me. I just don’t have five boobs, and that is about how many he needs for one feeding.
I’m taking milk-making herbs… drinking water… eating good… but I just can’t seem to keep up. Either that, or he’s using me as a living pacifier?
I do know this… he isn’t up to birth-weight yet (originally 9 lbs, 4 oz). His pediatrician told me yesterday that he’s at 8 lbs and 9 oz. Up just a few ounces since last week. He left the hospital at 8 lbs, 7 oz. You would have thought that he would have gained a pound by the amount of milk he “seems” to be getting from his ‘mama cow’.
I was curious to know how much milk I am producing now that I haven’t been pumping. I was told to not pump so that he could “regulate me”. So tonight, I popped the booby that he doesn’t prefer in to the pump and filled a bottle with 1.5 ounces in about 12 minutes. Hmmm. So does that mean that he’s getting 1.5 ounces each time he drinks from one side? If so, the boy should be ALL KINDS OF FAT. Shoot – after dinner he must have had the equivalent of six boobs before he went to bed.
Either breast milk is the leanest and meanest food on planet earth (allowing you to gorge on a whim without any caloric consequences whatsoever), or something is amiss.
Any of you milk mamas out there want to give me some lactation advice?
This mama heifer is plum wore out.