Cautiously Optimistic...

If you're wondering if this post is going to be about my boobs...it....definitely is.

I am thinking I should re-name this blog, Becky's Boobs...or Tales of my ta-tas or something equally as quippy and witty.

Anyways. Back to business. I saw my best friend again today (the lactation consultant). If I haven't told you before (I have. I know it.)--she's awesome. I had a mini-breakdown after the last time I was there because my precious boy had lost 3.5 ounces, which made me have a heart attack (in my mind).

So, Randy and I spent the weekend pretty scared. I don't know that there is anything more terrifying than not knowing whether you are feeding your child enough. AND my boobs can't make up their minds about whether they want to produce (1) too much milk or (2) too little milk. Hey boobs--MAKE UP YOUR MIND!

So, we (Finn & I) made our way back to the lactation consultant (I feel like I should tell you her name, since we're best friends and all, and I talk about her more than I talk about my own child...it's Lavawn). I got Finn undressed, had another mini-heart attack (in my mind) and put him on the scale--he was (drumroll please...) 9 lb 9 oz (between 9-10 oz). That means he gained 4 ounces over the course of the weekend, which is exactly what he is supposed to gain...YES!!!!!!!!

As far as my boobs go, I still have a slightly clogged duct in old lefty that we're hoping clears itself up, I still have a few more days of antibiotic, and I am still hoping that I can continue pumping enough for him when I go back to work next week. We shall see.

So, it is still challenging, but I feel like I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Jorie says that things get easier around 6 weeks, that's only 2 more weeks, and it is definitely getting better. Keep your fingers crossed that it CONTINUES to get better.

Do you ever feel like "all I ever talk about is my boobs?"....no? Just me?

Yep, there is even MORE to this story. Can you even believe it? Good news--it IS getting better (pain-wise at least).

So, after the ultrasound/mammogram debacle, they put me on a different antibiotic for my crazy nipple that was basically falling off (I kind of wish I could post a picture of it, but I won't because that's weird...but I do have one). The good news, the green poop that Finn was having appears to have been due to antibiotic #1, because it is gone now and is back to yellow (BONUS!).

Bad news, because of the two infections that I have had in the past few weeks, my oversupply has suddenly turned into UNDER-supply. My sweet little boy has lost about 3.5 oz. This makes me really sad and really upset. He looks hungry all the time, and it makes me go a little bit crazy...honestly, I don't know if he's really hungry or not, because he calms down. It could be gas, it could be 1,000 other things...but, in my mind...he is hungry all the time.

So, now I am taking two supplements (Blessed Thistle and Fenugreek) to increase my milk supply. That's right the milk supply that caused several clogged ducts, two infections, and the crazy day when they thought I had an absess...that milk supply is now depleted to an under-supply. FML.

We are trying really hard to up my supply now, pumping and supplements and such. I haven't had to give him any formula...yet. I really hope I don't have to. We have another appointment on Monday, and then his 1 month doctor's appointment on Tuesday. So, that will determine what we do from there.

Honestly, I almost think that this is worse than the excruciating pain of the sore nipples and breast infections, because those didn't affect my little one. This does, and it's bullshit.

Hopefully, we will start to see some weight gain by Monday, and then he will keep gaining weight and we will finally be on the same page. (PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!)

If not, I really think we might have to supplement formula...and that will suck, but it'll be okay. Hopefully, if we have to do that, we can still do formula along with breastmilk and eventually I'll have enough milk for him.

Stupid boobs. Make up your damn mind.

Boob saga...

The drama with my boobs continues...no, it's not getting better.

So, the infection was in my right breast, on Sunday my left breast started hurting terribly. This is the one where Finn always has trouble on, there was also a lump in this one as well, which means another clogged duct. So, I called the lactation consultant and made another appointment for yesterday.

I went to the consultant. She felt around, watched me feed him...AGAIN, and then called in the nurse practitioner. They decided that they thought it was an absess. How do they treat an absess? They have to do surgery and remove it. Yeah...that's right. So, I started crying in the room, like a crazy fool. She gave me a hug (I love her), she told me that I'm a trooper and then proceeded to tell me that she'll never tell me to stop breastfeeding, so if I want to be done, I have to let her know. I didn't know what to say. I know that it's the best thing for him, and I'm really trying, but I don't know what to do. Then, she said I needed to have an ultrasound, and she made me call and schedule it right then (did I mention, I love her....no, seriously I do).

I had to drive directly to the ultrasound place, with a crying baby in the car (he fell asleep pretty quickly) freaking out that they were going to have to do a surgery on my breast. That would suck.

I get there, I check in, they tell me that I need to have both a mammogram and an ultrasound. FML. By the way, the baby can't come with me into the mammogram because of the radiation. I am BY MYSELF.

Nurse: No problem, we'll find someone to watch him.
me: !?!?!?!?!?
Nurse: We've done it 1000 times
Me: (in my head--WHAT THE FUCK!? I DON'T KNOW YOU!!!! I DON'T WANT YOU TO WATCH MY BABY)

So I call Randy and he says "Should I call BEtty" I reply "I don't know how long it'll take, I could be done by the time she gets here" He calls her anyways, and she's awesome so she comes. My poor baby Finn, he just slept the whole time, and he would have been fine, BUT I still don't want some random people watching my beautiful baby. He's so cute they would probably steal him...at least I know where Betty lives if she tried to steal him :)

I then got a mammogram. Mammograms are painful when your boobs already feel like they are going to fall off, and you leak all over the machinery. It sucked. I cried again.

Then, I went in for the ultrasound. Can I also tell you that when I woke up, it did not occur to me that I would be showing 1 million more people my boobs today, so I didn't shave my armpits. That is gross. Seriously.

So, good news...it's not an absess. Bad news...that means it's an infection of some sort; either bacterial or anti-fungal. So we're trying a new antibiotic and seeing what happens. Are you jealous of my life right now?

Also--Finn is ultra-cranky right now. This is ALSO due to my crazy boobs. He's gassy, and crabby, and his belly hurts. And it's horrible to watch. I hate it. I feel like a failure.

Perspective

So, I am a closet-stalker. One of my friends told me about the blog of a woman that I know, she's not one of my best friends, but I know her. Yesterday, during a night-time feeding I started reading her blog. I have been reading her blog ever since. This particular woman went through a painful miscarriage. I won't tell you her story, because it's not my story to tell.

Suffice it to say that I've spent many hours, holding my precious son in my arms, reading the story of her loss and the two years since her loss. Yesterday was a rough day, Randy has strep throat, Finn and I are working on block feeding, which is incredibly stressful; I didn't get anything done all day because of crying, lack of sleep and numerous other obstacles. So, I was feeling very 'poor-me' throughout the day.

I'm not anymore.

I sometimes cannot believe how lucky I am. Randy and I got pregnant within a week of trying, we had a healthy pregnancy, we have this beautiful, healthy son who is everything I could ever want in my life. And now, I have this reminder that is truly a gift. Reading that blog reminded me that life is precious, and sometimes what we are complaining about is what we truly wanted. Though I would love a full 8 hours of sleep, I am beyond blessed that my baby boy is healthy and wants to eat every 3-4 hours.

I wish I was more articulate in my writing in a first-draft (I'm not, and I don't do any planning because this is for me, and no one else). I wish I could express my gratitude for what I've been given, but I am so happy that I have this gift in my life. Finn has his cranky moments, but I wouldn't even trade the crabby moments for anything different.

Life is Wonderful.

Seriously...

...today is awful.

Finn cried all through the night last night. I only slept from 3-7, that's the only sleep I've gotten the last 24 hours.

Breastfeeding sucks...I legitimately hate it. I have oversupply, or so the lactation consultant says. I am not sold on it, because my little man seems to be hungry right after eating. So, I'm supposed to be feeding him every 3 hours, which worked fabulously the first day, and horrendously today. I also had to pump today, and I was only able to pump about 1.5 ounces, which means that I need to call and ask about that. Life sucks.

Randy is sick. He has strep throat. That. sucks. It means that I was looking forward to some help tonight, and I will not get any. Randy will not touch the baby for the next 24 hours, at least. Seriously, I could cry just thinking about it.

This is rough. I just want to know if I am feeding him enough. Is he fussy because he's hungry? Or because he's gassy? What the hell is going on.

Did I mention I hate...with a passion...breastfeeding. It's way too hard and confusing.

My crazy breasts

I think that I could write an entire book about how insane my boobs have been during this pregnancy.

During pregnancy my boobs grew...a lot. Like, I was a 34B before (and by the way completely content with that...I am not someone who wished I had bigger boobs, I didn't really care); during pregnancy a 36 C...that's giant to me, and I hated it. They just kept growing and it made me want to jump off a bridge, or so I thought.

Since I've given birth...I didn't even think it was possible...but they have gotten even bigger. The bra I am wearing right at this moment is a 38D. No, that's not a typo--a D. Are you kidding me? Let me tell you right now, this bra is a bit tight. TIGHT!?!??! That's bullshit. I want to cut them off and throw them off a bridge instead of jumping off of it myself. They are seriously all National Geographic floppy and I hate them.

Well, if the giant-ness of the boobs wasn't enough craziness, on Saturday I realized that I had...a breast INFECTION. Yeah, that's right...the pain doesn't stop with childbirth. This is one of the worst pains I have had in my entire life. First, it feels like you have the flu; fever, chills, achiness. Second, your breasts feel like they are on fire, like literally hot to the touch. Third, they hurt like hell. Like, if you touch them, at all, in any way, it hurts terribly. And, if you're breastfeeding, you touch them A LOT, as does your baby. Yeah, so it's been a rough few days. My boobs are feeling better, not great yet, but better. I had to call the on-call doctor at my OB-GYN to get an antibiotic and directions for how to deal with the crazy pain. THankfully, she called in a prescription for me, and it was a good thing she did because my fever spiked to 101 degrees on Saturday night.

The saga continues tomorrow when I have to go to the lactation consultant for a consultation on how I'm breastfeeding. I suck.

I hate my stupid boobs.

The Little Man's Entrance into the world...

Ecstatic and over-the-top excited to announce the birth of our son, Finn Harper Hoyle, born at 7:57 P.M. on January 31, 2011. He weighed in at 8 lb 13 oz and 21" long, and he is gorgeous. I know, I know I am biased, but honestly--he is gorgeous.

Now, while we are very excited about his presence--his entrance into the world could have been much less exciting to us. We started dealing with contractions on Friday night...that's right Friday! That is not a typo. I was in what they call prodromal labor. Prodromal labor is what they used to call false labor. That's right this is not even pre-labor. It's just pure hell. It is literally contractions that are approximately 10-20 minutes apart for undetermined amounts of time. Most people who have this type of labor have contractions for a few hours, and then they stop. Well, I am not one of those people. I was in "false labor" for about 52 hours. Also, I didn't sleep well on Thursday, so lets add that in. I don't know if you're aware, but you can't sleep for just 10 minutes and get good sleep. On top of this, when I laid down, my contractions got worse--more painful, closer together, etc. So, I did not sleep...at all for all of that time. Finally, on Sunday night I decided I wasn't going to time them anymore, because it is just too annoying. So, I took a bath (doctor's orders), took 2 Tylenol P.M. (Doctor's orders) and tried to go to sleep. That worked for...oh wait, yeah about 10 minutes until I had a contraction. So, then I'm all drugged up, and up all night. Around 12-1 am, I think that the contractions are getting worse, and closer together. So I start timing them--they were between 1-4 cm apart and I started to lose blood (if that bothers you...it only gets more graphic from here so be prepared) and I call my doula, and my midwife. They both say--go to the hospital. YES! I have never been so happy to be told "go to the hospital" in my life. Why? Because that may mean that they will make this crap STOP! At that point, all I wanted was SLEEP!

Randy runs around like a crazy man for a few minutes getting things situated, while I...have some more contractions. We drove the hospital around 2:00 am Monday morning (are you counting...that's a long time). We were both excited, and completely nervous that they would send us home. That would have been my nightmare.

We got to the hospital, got all checked in, met our doula (Louise--more about her later), and waited to be checked. Very nervous about this process, because I had been to the doctor on Friday morning, and was only 80% effaced and maybe a centimeter dilated. GOOD NEWS--I was 3-4 centimeters dilated, 90% effaced. They decided they were keeping us, and we were having a baby. My contractions did pretty well for a while, and I got to 5 cm; then, they slowed down again (not stopped, they never stopped). So, through a discussion with the midwife, nurse and doula--we decided to start Pitocin, which was scary because it wasn't in our birth plan. BUT, we are flexible people and do what we're told.

Well, Pitocin did it's job and it did it very quickly. My contractions were 1-3 minutes apart for the rest of the day. It was AWFUL. I mean just terrible, excruciating pain. Randy asked me to describe it, and all I could think of is someone squeezing the muscles in your body until they felt like they were going to pass out. This process lasted ALL DAY...and I literally mean that. We finally started to push around 4. It was the worst pain of my life, and the worst hours of my entire life.

Now, before I go on I would like to tell all of you women who I know who either (1) are pregnant or (2) going to ever be pregnant again...GET A DOULA! Honestly, the people who got me through the day were Louise, Randy and the nurses. Number 1 on that list is Louise. She was awesome. She told me exactly what to do, helped me so much, I absolutely love her. She had another birth going on the same day, and she had to leave us for a short amount of time. When she came back, I literally cried and said to her "Please don't leave me again!" and she didn't. If you're even pondering doing it naturally (no judgment if you're not--believe me, I understand), you NEED a doula. Yes, they are expensive but they are the best money you could possibly spend. Jessica, is the back-up doula that Louise called when she had to leave us for a little while, she was also AMAZING, and then stayed with us through the rest of the birth...just because. We weren't paying her, we didn't necessarily "need" her, but she stayed with us. Also--the nurses at St. Anthony hospital are absolutely amazing...and I loved LOVED every one of them (some specific ones if you want to know specific names). I can't believe how great everyone has been throughout the entire process, and I cannot rave enough about Louise especially.

Now, there is absolutely no way that I could have gotten through the transition phase of labor (7-10 cm) without these support people. That was the worst part, and it sucked terribly. Finally, we got to the point where I wanted to push. Now, before I start this, I want to tell you that this is what Randy has called "The most traumatic experience of his life"--not specifically the pushing stage, but the entire day. Pushing for normal people lasts 1-2 hours or so. Not me, apparently I don't like to do anything the easy way. So, we started pushing...if you notice the time that he was delivered, we pushed for about 4 hours. It sucked. Then, after four hours they had to use the vacuum to extract him, also not in our birth plan. They also had called down the anesthesiologist in case we had to do a C-section. It was a crazy time. Randy said that this is when I handled my pain the best--during the pushing stage, which is crazy to me.

Then, after trying with the vacuum 3-4 times, Finn finally made his entrance into the world. And we didn't hear him cry. That is terrifying. We kept saying "Is he okay?" and no one would answer us. They would say things like "he looks pink!" Well, I don't know what that means. They cut his cord (also, not in the birth plan) and took him away immediately. We didn't get to hold him, I didn't even get to see him. They took him away and brought him to the nursery, where they had to call the neo-natologist to come in and observe him. Also terrifying. It was heartbreaking to have to leave him. The doctor came in and told us that they were monitoring his vitals, and there was a moment where we thought he may even be having seizure activity, which is the most terrifying thing ever.

This is about the time that Randy lost it, and I couldn't really do anything. Randy is so awesome, and wonderful, and I know he would have rather been the one in all the pain, and it was terrifying for him to have to give up control.

After monitoring him for a few hours (said the doctor who came in out of the goodness of his heart from home to monitor him for 12 hours) the doctor was positive enough to leave him for the night, which was a blessing.

So, that was it. The story of Finn's birth (with a lot of gory details including...pooping on the table, blood leaking on the floor, Randy almost passing out, and other disgusting things...left out). He is absolutely beautiful, and we just got to hold him. He is perfect and he is fearfully and wonderfully made.