And the Battle Continues

Last week I wrote about my struggle with the pumping process and how to fit it into my daily life. Since then I’ve put myself on a very regimented schedule where I am pumping every three hours regardless of whether I’m at work or not. My pump goes everywhere with me!

The battle this week has not been fitting in my pumping sessions, but how much I’m producing each pump. I have watched for the last seven days as my supply has decreased fairly significantly. As I mentioned last week, L is now drinking 5oz bottles every 3.5 hours, so I truly need to be pumping a minimum of 25oz a day to meet his needs and continue to stash one bottle a day. Unfortunately this has become an almost impossible task. My morning pumps that used to yield anywhere from 8-10oz are now just barely hitting 6oz and those afternoon sessions are topping out at 2oz. I keep trying to remind myself that “every ounce counts,” but when those ounces don’t even add up to one full bottle it truly feels like a waste of time. I have found myself questioning whether I should either a) just give up or b) start supplementing formula in his daycare bottles … neither of which I truly want to do at this point.

L is only 12 weeks old tomorrow and in my heart I’m not quite ready to give up, but what more can I do? Well, let me tell you! If you ask the right people, the right questions you will be amazed at what you find out!

I recently joined a pumping support group on Facebook and it has been wonderful. It’s nice to know I’m not the only mommy out there going through these struggles. I mean I know I’m not but to be able to actually talk to other women that are is comforting. At first I was just a lurker, not participating in the discussion, just reading about others experiences and the types of things they did to get through it. I couldn’t believe the success some of them had with pumping – one woman has 1500oz in her freezer! Yes you read that correctly, one thousand five hundred ounces!! To say I’m jealous is an understatement. The difference is however, many of these women pump around the clock. They are waking two and three times a night to pump. I can’t make that commitment, and perhaps those makes me lazy or a bad mother, but remember I am getting up two and three times a night to breastfeed so adding in another 15-20 minutes of pumping on top of that would result in me never sleeping!

After being on the board for a few days I decided to post my first question. I asked the ladies two things: what is and how to know when you’re having a ‘let-down’ and how to increase my supply. The answers varied but a ‘let-down’ is basically when your boobies tell you “hey it’s time to express this milk” (http://www.breastmilkcounts.com/let-down-reflex.php). It was a sensation I’d felt many times but wasn’t sure what it was. Now I am able to listen to my body and know when it’s time to pump. Amazingly, I typically feel a ‘let-down’ coming on every 3.5 hours, right when the nugget should be eating!

The second question solicited so many different and varied responses. Water was of course the number one answer – basically drown yourself in water every day. The second most popular answer was oatmeal. I’ve already adopted both of these into my routine so I began looking at alternative answers.

After reading through what the women suggested and doing some back research of my own I have chosen to try the following:

1)  Fenugreek: The capsules I purchased are 610mg per and according to the label should be taken 2-3 times daily. This aligned with the women as they all said you need to take about 2,000mg a day to see a change.

2)  Mother’s Milk Tea: I have never been a tea drinker and after hearing what the ladies said about this particular kind I’m sure I’ll never be a tea drinker after either. According to what they all said this tea is “gross” and they have to chug it just to finish it. But many of them said they saw a significant increase in their supply.

3)  Lactation Cookies: What woman doesn’t love a good cookie? From the looks of the recipe it is basically an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie made with flaxseed & Brewer’s Yeast. I haven’t made them yet, but they are on the docket for this weekend.

 

For the next week I am going to document the exact amounts and times of my pumping sessions to see if there is any impact on my supply. If at the end of the week I do not see a noticeable change I will have to readdress my plans for future pumping/breastfeeding.  I do not even want to think about supplementing until L is at least 6 months old so I am praying that this works!

Keep your fingers crossed for me and in the meantime…

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Oh the Pump...

There are countless variables when you find out you’re pregnant beginning with your due date, to your child’s gender, to the kind of parent you hope to be. One thing I always knew beyond a shadow of a doubt was that I was going to breastfeed my child (God willing). Now, before I continue let me just say, I have absolutely nothing against mothers that don’t breastfeed, sometimes it’s just not an option for one reason or another.

Brian and I have joked many times about me breastfeeding because “why spend money when the milk is free?” but the truth is I wanted to breastfeed because I truly feel that it is the best thing for Lucas. The American Association of Pediatrics has done countless studies of the effects of breast milk in infants and their mothers which only further solidified my desire to breastfeed. Knowing that I am supplying my son with the perfect nutritionally balance ddiet is something that is so important to me. It’s a mix of everything his little body needs to grow strong and healthy and has all the antibodies from me to help fight infections and sickness. It’s formulated for him so it just wasn’t an option for me to use formula.  But all joking aside, the price of formula adds up quickly and with the rising costs of just about everything else in our world, it’s nice not having that added burden on my wallet!

Just before Lucas was born I was reading my friend Mandy’s blog about her struggle with breastfeeding. Her blog is about as honest as they come, and after reading what she went through I was nervous that perhaps I’d have the same experience. While she ultimately wanted to breastfeed, she just knew it wasn’t going to be possible for her and as devastated as she was she has taken it all in stride. I admire her strength!  

Luckily from the moment L was born, we’ve had a very easy go of it. He immediately latched correctly, luckily for me since not one nurse offered to help me out, and ate like a champ! Since then we’ve only gotten better at it. I no longer need the Boppy and in fact am able to walk around while breastfeeding! Lucas can find his way to me in the pitch dark (which helps with the 3am feedings) and he is able to eat without hurting me – yet! I have yet to master feeding him in public however, but I think that’s more due to my insecurities about how people still view public breastfeeding. In the beginning we were averaging a feeding every 1.5 hours and it would last no longer than 3-4 minutes. I made, and continue to make, a conscious effort to feed from both sides each time which for me is more about comfort than anything else. Now that Lucas is 10 weeks old we are averaging a feeding every 3-3.5 hours that last more than 15 minutes. My little man truly loves to eat!

During the first six weeks of my maternity leave I breastfed him exclusively. I was unable to order my breast pump until 5 days after L was born, and then it took almost two weeks to receive it. When it arrived I have to admit I was terrified of it. I had heard so many stories of the pain it causes, especially if you are pumping and breastfeeding at the same time. I also began to get anxiety about pumping when I returned to work. In speaking with friends of mine that pumped I began panicking when I realized I didn’t have a “stash” ready in the freezer for him. What if I wasn’t able to get that much each session and needed extra? One of my friends told me she went back to work with TWO WEEKS worth of frozen breast milk … at 4oz every 3 hours for two weeks she would need to have 448oz stashed away! Are you freaking kidding me? Knowing I only had three weeks left of my maternity leave I knew I had to start pumping ASAP.

I definitely struggled in the beginning with the pump. There were times that I would cry and want to break the machine. Not because it hurt but because I wasn’t getting ANYTHING out of it – I was lucky if I was getting an ounce from each side. At that rate I knew I’d never have enough to send with him to daycare. I reached out to the two people I trust the most when I have questions about these sorts of things – my sister and my friend Jami. They both said many of the same things – water, water, water and lots of protein. They both also said they found eating oatmeal helped maintain their supply. I immediately went out and bought a BPA free Contigo and stocked up on oatmeal. I’ve always been a big protein eater from my bodybuilding days so that wasn’t a struggle. I almost instantly saw an increase in my supply. Sarah also mentioned that I should pump before I fed Lucas instead of after. She said she did that with C and it was easier to let him take longer to eat than it was to pump endlessly after he emptied her out!

After talking to them I began pumping in the morning before his 8am feeding and again at night before his 8pm feeding, but was only getting about 3-4oz total each time. Meaning I was stashing two bottles a day if I was lucky. But there were times when I would only get 2oz and other times when I would get 6oz. It’s definitely frustrating. By the time I went back to work I had one week’s worth of daycare bottles frozen for a total of fifteen 4oz bags. I figured he’d have three bottles a day at daycare and then I would breastfeed at night. I felt comfortable with that amount as back up. I also knew that when I went back to work, I’d be pumping at least two times during the day and was aiming for three so whatever I pumped would replace his bottles at daycare the next day so hopefully I wouldn’t have to touch my stash too often.

The last week of my maternity leave I struggled the most with my supply. I just couldn’t understand why I wasn’t getting enough even though I was drinking tons of water and eating a balanced diet full of protein. It was disheartening. Poor Brian got the brunt of it. I would get so upset and feel like I was failing as a mother. I would take it out on him and it wasn’t fair – he had nothing to do with it. Anyone that has tried to pump can tell you it’s not easy. Eventually I started doing some research of my own. I read about the different sorts of pumps, the type of diet I should be eating, the times of day I should be pumping to get the most out of it and the one thing that kept coming up was the actual pump itself. The kind of pump you have can definitely impact your experience. Per Obamacare most insurance companies will supply you a breast-pump for free, the brand depends on your insurance. Unfortunately for me my insurance only allowed me to get an Ameda Purely Yours. From the beginning it was awful, I could only pump from one side at a time (doubling the length of time it took to pump) because it wasn’t powerful enough to do both. And even then I needed to put it on max suction (ouch) to make it work. It didn’t come with any kind of carrying bag and the flanges were too big for me. All of that added up to a really difficult start to my pumping experience. I reached out once again to some of my mommy friends and family asking which pumps they had and what their experience had been. Time and time again the responses were “MedelaPump in Style” and “FANTASTIC” … When I talked to my cousin and told her of my struggles she mentioned that she had a spare Medela that I could borrow if I wanted! I practically cried at the offer. I immediately accepted and can’t even begin to describe the difference it made. Since then my experience has been dramatically different. It takes me 15 minutes max to pump, I can use the mid-suction setting and the flanges are a perfect fit. It has literally changed my attitude about it. As much as pumping is still time consuming and can be frustrating having a pump that works makes it all worth it.

I started a new job on November 4^th and because of that it’s a challenge to get in three sessions a day. My job is very demanding (which is great) so I’m lucky if I can sneak out twice. Although for the last week, I’ve been pumping on my lunch break too so that’s been helpful. In the mornings I average about 8-10oz per session and the afternoon I’m typically getting about 4-6oz. L’s pediatrician told me yesterday that she’d like to see him eating 5oz every 3.5 hours now, so I realistically need to be pumping 15-20oz per day to keep up with his daycare needs. Luckily I work in a very supportive environment! If you add up the time it takes to set up the pump, the actual session and then clean up, it is about 30 minutes for each 15 minutes pump, broken down over the three sessions I’m looking at an hour and a half away from my desk each day. I’ve had to compensate by eating lunch at my computer so I’m not away for too long. If I didn’t have an understanding boss, I could see where it might be difficult to continue pumping.

What’s funny is, over the last three weeks I have become very creative in my pumping sessions – I have literally pumped just about everywhere… at home, at the office, my mother’s house, many a public bathrooms, in the car and most recently I’ve learned the art of pumping while driving! Thank god for the hands-free pumping bra and the V9 car attachment (thank you once again Sarah & Jami)! They really do think of everything! J

I have set an ultimate goal of breastfeeding for one year. But within that am setting smaller goals – the first was to get through maternity leave (check), then to three months (almost check), then we’ll aim for six months, then nine, then a year – hopefully all will go according to plan, but if it doesn’t I’m comforted in knowing that with each passing day that he’s eating breast-milk exclusively I’m doing what is best for my son.

My Poor Baby

As a mother there is nothing harder than seeing your child in pain. Wishing you could take it away or be the one to endure it, but knowing you can’t is probably one of the most difficult things to navigate.

When I was 38  weeks pregnant, I took a tumble down some stairs and ended up needing “trauma monitoring” to ensure that all was still well with Lucas. Luckily things were still on track and there was no trauma to the placenta or the baby. During the exam however, the technician noticed that Lucas’ left kidney was enlarged. Through further review by the doctor they determined that Lucas had hydronephrosis. The doctor assured me that while it was considered to be a severe case,  it wasn’t anything to be worried about, but that Lucas would require an ultrasound at two weeks to see if there was any change.

When his follow up appointment showed that he did in fact still have a severe case, we were scheduled for testing at Children’s Hospital on October 3^rd. This first round of testing was so the doctor could monitor the flow of his urine through his kidneys. When we arrived we headed into radiology for the test. The room was cold and dark with a huge CT scanning machine. The nurse came in and explained the procedure to us. Lucas was then put into a johnny and laid on the table. The nursing assistant held him down while the doctor inserted a catheter. I couldn’t help but sob as I watched my baby squirm and  cry in discomfort. There was nothing I could do. For the next hour I held his hands and whispered in his ear that everything would be okay. No matter how upset or scared I was, I needed to reassure my son that all was ok.

After the test was over we met with Dr. Diamond, Lucas’ urologist who informed us that while the urine was traveling through his kidney there appeared to be a blockage somewhere along the way. He told us that in most cases these early blockages work themselves out in time with the growth of the baby. Hydronephrosis is much more common in little boys as their penis can become kinked in uetero causing a blockage, additionally he told us it could very well be that he just has a “baggy” kidney and the urine was getting stuck in the folds. In both cases he would be fine. He went on to tell us that there could potentially be a large problem, if the blockage was severe enough, if there was urine reflux back into the kidney or if he was losing functionality. Given that Lucas was just a month old the doctor wanted to give it another four weeks to see if any growth would help resolve the problem. We were given a prescription for amoxicillin to prevent any sort of infection while we waited for our next follow up.

On November 1^st we went back to Children’s Hospital for more extensive testing. The first test they performed on him was called a MAG3 test. The inserted a radioactive isotope into his blood stream through an IV. Watching the nurse try to find a vein on my son’s tiny little hands was heartbreaking. I couldn’t even watch when she finally found one and inserted the needle. The isotope can be seen on a neuclear reading machine. During this fifteen minute portion they watch the flow of the isotope to determine where the blockage is and how severe it might be. The results of this determine whether or not his case warrants further testing. We were assure by the nurse that roughly 95% of these tests come back requiring more information. Sure enough Lucas needed the next portion. For the next 45 minutes a substance known as Lasix travels through his system to his kidneys and basically causes them to contract and force out any remaining urine. How long it takes for this process to complete shows how severe his case truly is. When this process was complete we were once again sent to meet with Dr. Diamond to hear his results.

Dr. Diamond told us we had good news and bad news. The good news being that so far Lucas’ kidneys are functioning right near the 50/50 split they are supposed to. His right kidney has 54% functionality and his left has 46% so at this point there is no worry about kidney failure. The bad news is the ideal amount of time for a kidney to empty on Lasix is between 5-10 minutes. Anything over 15 minutes is considered abnormal and anything over 20 is serious. It took Lucas’ kidney 38 minutes to empty. Given that result Dr. Diamond told us that more than likely he will need surgery to remove whatever is causing the blockage. Because he is so little the rest of his organs haven’t matured to where they should be to safely receive anesthesia we need to wait another 6 months. During that time Lucas will continue to be on an antibiotic. At the end of the six months, in May, we will go back to Children’s again and re-do the MAG3 and Lasix testing. If, at that time the results are the same, or God forbid worse; or he’s lost more than 10% of his kidney function we will need to schedule him for surgery. While there is still a chance he could outgrow it, Dr. Diamond did not seem hopeful that would be the case. Brian asked him how serious of a surgery it is and we were told that it’s a “pretty significant” surgery and that it would require an incision (no lapriscopic option) and a fairly lengthy recovery. The last thing any mother wants to hear or think about is her baby needing surgery.

While these visits and tests were traumatic to me (I know to some that may seem over the top) I know Lucas will never remember them. I also know it could be worse. I can’t tell you how many families we saw that day with their far sicker children. I thank my lucky stars that this is all we are dealing with. Over the next six months we have been instructed to keep our eye on him, to watch for any signs of pain to the stomach when touched, a fever over 100.4 and/or any other “unusual” activity. So far, our little guy has been his happy, silly self and we couldn’t ask for any more!!

How has it been 10 years?

On a day like this 10 years ago you could easily find me holed up in my bedroom at my grandmother’s house staring out the window at the swing in the backyard. I could stare at that swing forever. To an outsider it wasn’t anything spectacular – in fact it was just two heavy duty chains attached by eye hooks to a couple two by fours that had been nailed or glued or screwed together  and spray painted John Deere green (his favorite color after gold). But to us that swing was everything. It was anchored between two huge pine trees smack in the middle of the yard. You could swing as high and as fast as you wanted on that swing, and that’s just what we did. That swing represented every weekend of our childhoods, pumping and pushing each other higher and higher as he stood there laughing and watching. There was a patch of dirt beneath that swing that developed a divot that just got deeper and deeper with each passing  year. My sisters and I would sit on that swing and spin in circles until the chains were as tight as they could go, then we’d pick up our feet and squeal as the chains unfurled.

But on that day as I stared out the window I knew the magic of that swing was gone. He had taken it with him and we’d never be able to find it again. He had been our hero, our friend, one of the greatest men I’ve ever known … he was our Buppa. And he was just gone. How were we supposed to wake up in that house every morning without seeing his face or hearing him shuffle through the kitchen on his way to the microwave? How could we be expected to play in the basement knowing he wasn’t in his office or his workshop puttering away? How would we ever be able to use that swing again without missing him? The answers were years in the making – even now five years after my grandmother has sold that house I find myself wishing for those weekends back, if only just to hear his voice one more time.

When Buppa was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease I had only heard of it in passing. At the time I didn’t understand exactly what was going to happen to him and to us. My parents explained that Bup would slowly lose his memory and eventually we would lose him. Back then they called it the five year disease – but our Buppa lived another 10! He was always stubborn that way. Tell him he couldn’t do something and he’d prove you wrong. After he’d been diagnosed our family continued to live our lives the way we always had, we went skiing and golfing and spent summers in New Hampshire. We celebrated birthdays and holidays and traveled as a family. Buppa knew what was happening to him, he began to leave himself notes around the house reminding him to take his glasses and wallet when he left and he drew himself a map for the steering wheel of his car so he knew how to get to the corner store and back. It wasn’t until the weekend that he got lost that we realized things were a lot further along than we’d thought. He had gone to the store to pick up some milk and when he didn’t return my mother began to panic. My father went out to drive the neighborhood to see if he could find Buppa but when that turned up nothing we called the police. Eventually Buppa found his way home to us, but it was then that we knew his days of driving – and ultimately independence were over. And for him, being the man he was, this might as well have been a death sentence.

Slowly but surely over the next few years we watched as the man we once knew disappeared from us in every way imaginable. He could no longer ski or build intricate projects in his workshop. His golf game suffered and his hands began to shake. He was easily frustrated and often angry when he couldn’t remember the littlest detail. But despite it all he loved us and we him. He was truly a man that could never be replaced.

So when the call came in late October of 2003 that “he didn’t have much longer” I dropped everything to be there. I was living in Vermont at the time attending UVM and was in the midst of mid-terms. I jumped in my car and drove straight through – breaking speed limits as I drove down 89 through Vermont onto 95 in Massachusetts and then 84 into Connecticut – over 6 hours without stopping just to be by his side.

When I arrived, my entire family had descended on my grandmother’s home. Buppa was in a hospital bed in the sunroom surrounded by his five children. My mother and her two brothers were, in reality, his step-children, but to him there was no distinction – they were his in every sense of the word. They held hands and cried, told stories of his life and when he would open those deep, knowing eyes they’d smile and he’d smile right back. There were so many of us there, I can’t even remember how many – we took turns sitting by his bedside, remembering the man he was to us. We each had our private moments with him to tell him how much we loved him and be able to say goodbye.

I remember when it was my turn, I sat staring at the face of a man who God had put into our lives as our cornerstone. He was in essence our anchor – keeping our crazy blended family together. I wondered what life was going to be like once he was gone, I thought about the fact that he’d never see me graduate from college, get married or start my own family. I reached out and took his wrinkled hand in mine and when I did he opened his eyes. As tears streamed down my face I told him I loved him. He looked back at me, smiled and said “I love you too”… those words had never meant so much.

Just a few hours later we all gathered around his bed and held hands one last time. My uncle said a prayer for Buppa and for us. And as we stood there together God called him home. He took one final breath and he left us. In that moment we knew we would never be the same.

 

Now, ten years later as we celebrate his life I realize that statement is more true than I could ever have imagined. In the years since his death our blended family has gone our separate ways. We no longer see my mother’s step-brothers, and while we stay in contact with their children our holidays are no longer spent together and those ski trips and summers in New Hampshire have long since ceased. I have graduated from college, married an amazing man and just gave birth to my first child. All the things I knew he would miss. In my heart I know he’d be proud of my degree, he’d love my husband and Lucas would be the light of his life. But despite knowing these things, there isn’t a day that goes by that I wouldn’t give anything to have him here for just one more minute. I want him to SEE the woman I’ve become and I want to hear his voice just once say he’s proud of me. I think for the rest of my life I’ll miss him. Whether it’s  the sound of his feet shuffling down the hall, the way he taught me how to ski “correctly”, or the way he’d dance the Charleston… my life wouldn’t be what it is had he never been a part of it so for that I’m grateful.

I’ll see him again someday; that I know but until then … Rest Easy Bup! We love you more than you’ll ever know!

 

July 7, 1917 - November 1, 2003