Milk & Mountains

Not those types of mountains.....

   I'd liken nursing a babe to climbing Mount Everest. It's the challenge of your life, you don't hear of many people successfully completing it, and if you're not careful you could lose a body part. That last part might not be true, but it certainly feels like it's true for the first couple of weeks. Think 8 pound vampire with an appetite like no other.

  Fortunately there's no shortage of literature warning mothers of the perils of breastfeeding. No woman with curiosity and high speed internet can say she didn't know nursing a newborn would be taxing, both mentally and physically. More so mentally.

  But this entry isn't going to give you the gory details. I'll leave that to the other millions of bits about this subject on the world wide web. Of course, if you'd like to hear more details about my personal experience with this, feel free to message me and I'll tell you all about it.

 The purpose of this post is to tell you two things that you absolutely need to know if you're even going to attempt to nurse a baby.

(1) First and foremost, it is absolutely essential to have a cheerleader. Full disclosure, there is no way I would have made it this long without Anthony Bianchi. He has talked me down from the ledge of giving up and dragged me from anxiety-Hades so many times in the last 11 weeks. He has supported me, complimented me, and encouraged me every single day. I've heard comments from others such as, "You've given him a great start. You can switch to formula now.", "It shouldn't be this hard on you", and "Formula fed babies grow up to be as great as breastfed babies." While all statements may be true, we made a commitment to our child while he was still in the womb that we would give him the best start we could, come hell or high water. And there's been both. (Seriously, our apartment flooded the other week. It was grand.) For every one of these statements I hear, it takes five cheers from Anthony to bring me from the brink of switching to formula. Anthony's role is just as important as mine when it comes to nursing. So, mothers, if you're going to climb that mountain, make sure you have a partner to catch you when you feel like you can't go on. Because no matter how determined and committed you are, that time will come--more than once.

(2) The doody will hit the fan when your milk comes in. For me it was Day Four. There was nothing in the handbook for Day Four. Anthony and I both agreed that we have to get the word out for this Dooms Day. Our sweet baby turned into, well let's just say he was unpleasant, when that new milk hit his tummy. He was inconsolable. He wailed and he flailed for 24 hours straight until he got acclimated to his new food source. Just be prepared.

  With these two pieces of intel, I want you to know that I have nothing but respect for any mother who chooses to feed her newborn formula from the start. I have nothing against formula. After all, I never had a drop of breast milk and I turned out okay. It was simply our choice to breastfeed for the first few months of August's life, but there will come a day when I give up the ghost and hand Enfamil my debit card.

Birth Story Part 2

  Okay, so where were we? Oh yes, we made it to the hospital after having to drive back roads due to the phantom train.

  After all my threats tied to missing my window for an epidural, Anthony--smart man that he is--drops me off at the ER. I waddle in, gnashing my teeth and clenching my fists as I battle the increasing contractions while waiting on two thugs to empty their massive collection of cell phones out of their pockets. I tried to be patient, I really did. To no avail. I finally asked the security guard if I had to wait in line since I was in major labor. He--smart man that he is--let me bypass America's Most Wanted and check in.

  Contractions were awful. I mean truly and utterly awful. I thought those little twinges of pain I was experiencing back in Tallassee were uncomfortable. The ones at the hospital meant business. Once we got settled into the room I asked the nurse when I could get an epidural. I'm fairly certain she forgot about me because it was HOURS before I got one. Keep in mind I came to that dang hospital 3 cm dilated, 75% effaced, +1 baby position, and experiencing contractions for almost 3 hours. It finally got to the point where I begged for the epidural. (I have plenty to say about that nurse, but I will keep it to myself.) Fortunately, the original nurse's shift ended and we were assigned a pro. Seriously, if you give birth at Baptist East in Montgomery, Alabama then be sure to ask if Dawn is working. She's an angel in scrubs.

  Things got a lot better after the epidural. I'd been in labor all night long, Anthony and I had gotten 0 hours of sleep, and I was gearing up for the workout of my life. Ironically when I was in the worst shape of my life. With the epidural came sweet rest. We were able to get a little bit of shut-eye in between nurse and family visits.

   I had been worried about how the actual delivery part being too much for me. It usually takes about 2-3 hours of pushing for first time moms, and I wasn't sure I'd have the stamina for all of that. Dawn told me it'd only take twenty minutes; I thought she was being highly optimistic. Fortunately, she meant what she said once the time came. I pushed for twenty minutes, with Anthony cheering me on and helping the nurses, and our sweet August arrived.

   I was so blessed to have an easy and smooth delivery. August was safe and healthy, and Anthony and I were officially parents. It was surreal to have him in my arms. It was....I don't even know the word for it...to see him in Anthony's arms. It was perfect. Heartbreakingly perfect.

  We stayed that way, a family of three, for about thirty minutes before inviting grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins into the room to meet the newest addition to the family.

  We were in the hospital for the customary time and received lots of visits from family and friends. It was wonderful and we were grateful.

I would imagine this was taken after the epidural, 

as I doubt I would have been able to even fake a smile before receiving one.

Anthony anxiously waiting for August's arrival

in his embroidered scrubs, his first Father's Day gift.