Yesterday was a day that described me so perfectly. I had this horrible case of indecision. I couldn't even blog yesterday because I was so ill with this one choice I am having to make. I still am not 100% positive what my decision is (its about 90 vs 10) at this point. I'm having terrible time with it. So I just decided to blog about it. This morning I logged in and got this comment:
Ummm... you need to post again. ;)
August 3, 2010 9:40 AM
So here goes nothing.
Being any type of caregiver has been proven to be SO DIFFICULT. So difficult, in fact, that it is making me feel sick.
At Everett's 1 month visit the Dr. asked "how opposed are you to supplement feeding?"
I was kind-of shocked that he worded the sentence so sensitively because I was all for it. I had zero opposition in feeding my child formula. After all, he had only gained 10 ounces in 6 weeks and he was always starving. So I was sent home with some formula. That night when my water balloons were like the Sahara desert and my child was dying of thirst, we fixed him a bottle and he ate, and ate, and ate. He was so so so hungry and was Mr. happy pants with his (finally) full tummy.
Then the next morning all he wanted was to re-live his night before... never to have to work so hard for his food again.
I felt like I was doing the right thing by giving him another bottle. Out of curiosity I decided to see just how much my water balloons were holding. To say the least, I was like the middle school C team compared to the high school varsity. Poor Everett had been so thirsty and I was like the Dixie cup when he needed a two liter.
This is when I felt I was being the #1 mom by at least feeding my child.
All through out my pregnancy I had read that nursing your child was the absolute best thing for them. So that's what I did until I discovered he was running on empty. But then Mrs. indecision moved in.... and set up camp. Round and round we went: breast milk vs formula.
Knowledge is power...right? So I did all the research I could, and of course I want my baby to have natures best. So I decided I would pump out what I could and put it in a bottle for him. It worked until I couldn't keep up. Everett ended up getting formula most of the time. Within a few days his cheeks chunked right up and I was happy he was at least getting enough.
Then I was upset because my over sized milkers were broke. Why did I even have these thing anyways. They're like the school buses that don't work when other mom's have high performance little sports cars.
I was determined to get them fixed. But my mechanic (Everett) was not interested in these old, rusty, broke down school buses anymore..... but if he was to fix them, it would cost me. I was willing to pay the price. For an entire week, Everett and I worked on nursing again. Mr. Everett cried and cried and cried.
At this point I was curious if starving + a little breast milk was any better than a full tummy of formula.
Formula kicked Mrs. indecision out and all was well.... for a day.
Just like a bad habit, Mrs. Indecision weaseled her way back into my life. I didn't want to feel like the bad, lazy, selfish mom who couldn't feed her baby. So all of yesterday I spent researching how to make more milk, how to get my baby to nurse again, if formula was really all that bad, pros and cons....
When it came down to it, I had two choices. I could get a super pump and pump for 20 minutes every 2 hours around the clock, build up my milk supply, and bottle feed him (because he REFUSES to nurse).... or I could feed him formula.
I stood up for myself and made up my mind. I was going to feed Everett formula. I felt that I could give my baby more love and attention by feeding him formula instead of spending hours and hours hooked up to a machine.
I even called the hospital and talked with a lactation consultant. I told her that my baby has no interest in nursing and I am only pumping about 2 tablespoons every two hours. In the end, she mentioned that if I was happy bottle feeding him then I should just continue to do that.
It felt so good to have finally made my decision.
Then he pooped. It was green... with a little yellow and smelled like death. I'm devastated.