So baby number two has arrived. And, boy, was I gung-ho about nursing my little bundle. As you might have read, it didn't quite work out last time with baby number one. So this time around I was ready.
During pregnancy I weaned myself off of caffeine and pop because I thought it contributed to the reflux and colic I experienced with Sammy.
I was very aware of my postpartum feelings and was prepared to treat postpartum depression.
I had wrapped my mind around nursing on demand and that babies take a LONG TIME to feed, especially when they're itty bitty.
I was ready to get up during the middle of the night to take care of my little nursling.
And then he arrived. And when he let out his little cries I scooped him up and fed him. And fed him. And fed him.
I drank buckets and buckets of water.
I felt like I was doing everything right.
And at his check ups he was doing great...staying at a steady 35th percentile for weight, weighing in at 11 pounds at his 2 month appointment.
And yet... (you knew it was coming...)
I started realizing my little lovey wasn't really feeling any heavier. He was happy enough (like night and day from baby number one.) He seemed to pee enough and his razor sharp finger nails were growing like thorny weeds. ...but he just wasn't feeling any heavier. So we got on the scale together and he came out to be 11.5 pounds at three and a half months. I called the doctor for a weight check.
At the weight check we found out that the baby, my sweet little lump, had gained a whopping ONE OUNCE in a month and a half. 1oz. One 16th of a pound. (Just to let you know, "typical babies" at this age gain about an ounce a DAY!) So instead of being 11.5, he was 11.06 pounds.
Despite doing everything "right" we had to make a change.
After hours of feeling guilty, crying, feeling angry, feeling frustrating, and completely baffled, our decision right now is to supplement with frozen and donated milk along with infant formula. So I nurse my sweet babe, then feed my toddler some peanut butter, and then mix up a bottle of half and half. He gulps it down and though I grieve slightly, it's also a joyous feeling seeing him being full!
And guess what, ya'll? My baby who was eating at 7:30pm, 11:30pm, 3am, and 7:30am, got a bottle after his 7:30 and 11:30 feedings and slept until 6am, nursed and went down again until 8:30am!!! And his mama got sleep too and I feel so much better today.
So while I still believe the slogan "breast is best," I also remember that just because it's best doesn't mean that formula is the worst thing for your family. Plus, a sleep deprived grumpy mama is not "best" either. It's funny (strange) how I had to learn this with baby number 1 and then re-learn it with baby number two. But this time around, I did everything right and got the same result...so I'm making peace with that.
