It’s been a while, eh? I have so much knocking around in my head that I need to vent. Let me just do a little list so I can refer back to it when I ramble off on some tangent.
- Milk Supply
- Baby Blues
- Stomach & Boob Woes
OK, let’s start with milk supply. I’ve been wondering if my supply has been faltering a little because Bode has been waking up more during the night. By more I mean, it seems like more because once he slept through the night…actually twice. And for a while he was kind of waking up once in the middle of the night and then again right around the time we get up for the day. Last night I fed him at 1am (when I went to bed,) he woke up at 2am, then again around 4:45am and again around 8am. He fell back asleep without much fuss on his own at 8am because I just stayed in bed. Then I got him up for the day around 9am. I also think some of the depression funk I’ve been feeling might be related to the milk supply changing since I had the weaning blues big time with Dagny. I also think going to yoga is affecting supply because sometimes I miss a feeding from being gone for several hours at a clip, but I don’t always make it up by pumping. Have I mentioned how much I hate pumping? I HATE IT.
So yeah, I’ve been in a bit of a funk for a few days and I’ve been totally clueless as to why. I’m a pretty self-aware little cookie and usually I know exactly what’s bothering me. I was thinking maybe I was finally getting my period again but there are no other signs and I really hope I’m not getting it because it’s one of the few rewards of breastfeeding dammit. Anyway, the last time felt like this was when I weaned Dagny and finally went cold turkey on everything. Hopefully my supply isn’t totally shot. I don’t think it is, but this is probably a wake up call to be more diligent about pumping if I’m going to be regularly missing feedings, which I will. Or I guess I could just try to get past the guilt of switching to formula earlier than planned. WAY earlier than planned. I wanted to make it to at least 6 months, we’re currently at 3 months.
Oh and yoga. Now that we’re living way out in New Ken, my drive to yoga is now a commute. It’s actually not really that much more driving time but I don’t like to cut things too close. I hate coming in late and I was late tonight by about 10 minutes because I stopped at mumblemcdonaldsmumble on the way. So yeah, it’s about to get real. My current plan is twice a week, attending 2 sessions back to back on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’d really like to get 3 days a week in so I might go to one of the weekend sessions but that’s a big might. There’s also a session on Monday mornings that I really want to attend but the 7am start time would be a huge challenge. So tonight there was a beautiful young woman in there with the kind of body I could only dream of having. During some demos of different poses and adjustments her tummy and the tummy of our instructor was exposed ever so slightly. But it was enough to see that neither of them have any indication of having carried a baby to term. Now that doesn’t mean they haven’t, because I know some women’s tummies survive pregnancy unscathed. But it made me really sad and self conscious. When I gaze upon a beautiful tummy, and then see mine shortly thereafter it seems so much uglier than when I haven’t seen a smooth skinned tummy in a while. And for a moment I let myself mourn the passing of my formerly beautiful tummy and then I kick myself for having taken it for granted for so long. Then I tell myself to shut up and suck it up.
Which leads me to my next point. Plastic surgery. I’m not going to lie. I’m vain. Vain enough to seriously consider and most likely someday endure a procedure. I watched a lot of video diaries on YouTube of women who went through tummy tucks. It became very clear to me that I could have a completely tight, stretch-mark free tummy with a full tuck. However, then I would have a huge scar around the front of my waist. I saw several scars on YouTube and honestly I find them very creepy. I seriously think of Frankenstein. On top of that, when I asked myself if I really wanted to take away the evidence of my pregnancies, I felt a bit sad. Even though I think my tummy is kind of ugly now, I don’t really want to get rid of it like that. I feel like it’s a part of my children. Something that connects me to them. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m not sure whether I will ever be able to go through with a tummy tuck for that reason. And there’s the whole Frankenstein thing too. My boobs on the other hand, do not hold the same sense of sentimentality for some reason. I personally find it odd that I am sentimental about my tummy but not my boobs what with the breastfeeding and supposed closeness that it creates between mom and baby. Breastfeeding is more than anything else, stressful for me. I don’t feel any closer while nursing than I do when my sleeping babies let out a little sigh of contentment all nestled up in my neck. I felt sad when I weaned Dagny but I think a lot of it was hormones and just the general sadness all of us parents feel about our kiddos growing up. So when I look at my busted up boobs, it’s really easy to imagine myself getting them “freshened up.” They have massive deep stretch marks underneath and they resemble pancakes more than citrus fruits these days. I am talking about stretch marks that actually give me the willies. Like the thin skin could break open at any moment. There’s also the fact that they hang even lower now that a second child is using them for their God-given purpose. I believe a breast lift would remove a lot of the stretch marks and give me back some of my long lost perk. I have no designs on getting them enlarged. In fact, I can’t wait until they shrink back down after I wean Bodacious. They get in the way, they giggle around when move too fast, they cause cleavage no matter how conservative the neckline. And I feel like I look thinner when my boobs are their normal size. I have no problem with their diminutive nature, I just want the perk back. It remains to be seen whether I can overcome my fear of general anesthesia to get it. Not to mention convince my James that it’s worth the money, when he (God bless him) is totally content with my body the way it is. I honestly wish I was as happy with my body as he is.
Also, this is totally unrelated but I wanted to document that tonight was witness to the sweetest mom moment I’ve had in a long time. I came home from being gone for a good 4 hours between the commuting and yoga. Before I even left, Dagny was being pretty clingy. I told her when she gets bigger I will take her with me to yoga if she can be good. Then I got ready and came to give her a last hug goodbye and she kept saying “with me” because she wanted to go with me. It just tugged at my heartstrings like you wouldn’t believe. I really do hope someday she will want to go with me and that she will love it as much as I do. Then when I came home she ran over to me and said “mama hold joo” and just kept saying it whenever I tried to put her down. She almost had a meltdown when I had to trade off with James so I could feed Bode. She just clung to me and didn’t want to be without me. I loved every second of it! It’s so rare that Dagny wants to snuggle with me. Even when we do goodnights, she will randomly kiss me on whatever part of my face is closest to her mouth without even looking but she will put her hands on the sides of James’s head and pepper his lips with several baby kisses. It’s terribly sweet but her affections are more often bestowed upon Dada. We also do a “Dagny sandwich” before bed now where we hug and she gets squeezed between us. After that she likes to put one hand behind each of our heads and push them together so James and me kiss on the mouth. It’s hilarious and we always crack up. I’m determined to catch in on video soon! Finally we give her a kiss sandwich where we each kiss one side of her face at the same time and gently smoosh her head between the kisses. And then it’s goodnight, which I bid you now.