Davis Stew Continued...

It's been three weeks since we started supplementing....and the stats are in.

It's working!!! Little D is finally gaining weight again. He has gained 2 pounds in the past three weeks! His growth chart isn't flat lining anymore - in fact...it's gone up in almost a 45 degree angle!

I'm one happy mommy. 

He is still ridiculously LONG. Somehow he grew another INCH bringing him to 28" long! So in length he is literally OFF THE CHARTS!!! His weight is in the whopping 16th percentile. 

The tech pulled up his growth charts and I said, "What's that one mean?" As I pointed to one where D is BELOW the charts, zero-ith (I have no idea how to say that...but you get the point) percentile. He informed me that it's the length to weight ratio...and considering his crazy length, he's underweight. 

Little D even took his shots like a champ! Caden loved watching since this time HE didn't have to get shots too. I'm super proud of D though, he cried for like 5 seconds and then was over it. He is WAY tougher than his big brother.

So there you go little buddy...long and skinny and pretty awesome in every way. Those genes clearly did not come from me. The long/skinny genes that is...clearly the awesome genes came straight from me.

Dear Lord, if we have a daughter next please bless her with the long and skinny genes too. Thanks, Kristina 

And That's 'Watts' She Said....

One Year Ago Today...

Yep...one year ago today I gave Andrew the biggest shock of his life when I told him that little man Davis was on his way. SO MUCH has changed in the past year, and despite the craziness that is our life right now - I couldn't be happier. 

I guess it's tradition now and June 11th can't be a forgettable day around here. First Andrew nearly died tonight. That sounds like an exaggeration, right? I swear, he nearly died. I was THIS close to calling 911 - or whatever the equivalent of that is here. I should probably figure that out. 

Side Note:  This wouldn't be the first time I almost called 911, two winters ago he decided to put Christmas lights on the house for me and Caden (it just wasn't the same to us without them - he was anti Christmas lights...we won). One small detail...he is afraid of heights. That's right, my helicopter pilot husband is AFRAID OF HEIGHTS. So...getting on the roof was a disaster, but he did it. Getting off...now that's something else;  he was freaking out. Shaking, ghost white, sick to his stomach, couldn't move, I could go on and on. I was yelling at him to just 'DO WHAT I SAY...YOU WILL MAKE IT DOWN!!!' I felt like a hero talking him through it - straight out of a movie - I have NO IDEA what the neighbors though! I had the phone in my hand, ready to call 911 to get him off of the roof...much like getting a scared kitten out of a tree. Poor baby. After A LOT of coaching and threats by me, he made his way on to the ladder. I'll never forget that day! (Needless to say, we didn't get Christmas lights this year...I'm pretty sure that was the first and last time.)

Anyways, back to how he almost died tonight. We were sitting down to eat some delicious stir fry, he takes a sip of water. The next thing I know; his hand is clamped over his mouth and he looks at me with panic in his eyes as he starts coughing, dry heaving, and spitting up water. At first I thought he just choked a little...then there was about 20 seconds of him hunched over and trying to breathe and not really being able to. I was totally in position to give him the Heimlich. I've never heard someone work so hard to try to breathe. I said, "Do I need to call 911...can you breathe?" he showed me with his hands that he could get a little oxygen...so I waited a few more seconds. Again...I was totally ready to call 911. He lived though. It was scary - maybe it doesn't sound that scary, but it was scary. 

He's not allowed to drink water anymore.

So...after that shit show of a dinner Mr. Davis gave us the best shit show yet! He actually gave it to Daddy. I think it was Andrew's punishment for almost dying tonight. I was doing the dishes and all I could hear was Andrew yell, "Kristina....." in a shaky, 'Oh My Gosh, I need you right now" voice. You know the voice. It always precedes something really, really bad.

I ran to the bedroom and saw this:

Yes, it is all over Andrew's hands...and the changing pad, and the onesie, and Davis's legs...and his feet...and pretty much everywhere EXCEPT the diaper. 

My reaction...obviously to laugh and grab my camera. Andrew always gets the good ones. Davis knows when to dish it out. I love that boy. 

I love how D looks so innocent...and really quite proud of himself! Who me? 

Somehow in the process he even got it on his arms, and hands...back...it just kept spreading! D got another bath tonight. It was necessary. Oh..and one more thing...I HATE formula poo - it's so much worse than the innocent breastmilk poo. Seriously, I was gagging from it. Tonight was SO our night.

It's these moments that make me SO thankful for when Andrew is around. 

(Though really, I think I could have handled this situation so much better...does D really make that big of a mess or does Andrew spread it around in his attempts to figure out what to do? I had that boy cleaned in no time! Maybe Andrew is really to blame here.)

In summary, thank you Davis. Thank you for your surprise one year ago, and your big surprise tonight; life would be so dull without you. 

That's as good as it gets from Bahrain today. OH...and our lease is set to sign on the 19th!! Household goods have arrived from the states (ahead of time, thank you God) and will be moved in on the 20th!!! 

9 more days people!!!

9 more days and I will be set free of this hotel room!

and That's 'Watts' She Said....

Davis Stew....

It's definitely not the most accurate way to weigh our bouncing baby boy, but I had to get creative

This picture makes me smile. It's adorable - what's better than a baby in a pot? At the same time, this picture makes me kind of sad...see it really represents our breastfeeding struggles... 

FAIR WARNING: Some readers may wish to look at the cute pictures and move on. Still reading?You've been warned.

I have a love/hate relationship with breastfeeding. I had a breast reduction in 2003. I don't regret it - AT ALL - but as you can imagine it has made breastfeeding much more difficult for me than for your average mama. My surgeon warned me that it might impair my ability to nurse, but at 19, who cares?! I just wanted to fit into regular size clothes and not have people STARE at me all the time. We're talking GINORMOUS. 

Back to the point...I was shocked when I was able to nurse sweet baby Caden 5 years ago. I thought it was going okay and I just had a really calm and good baby. He had gained his birth weight back and was on track. Somewhere along the way - it just stopped working. Maybe it was stress, nutrition, who knows. All I know is that I went to the doctor with my best friend/big sister, Stephanie aka: lactation queen, and our pediatrician said, "when babies are this hungry...they don't cry"

Those words killed me. We started supplementing that day and within a week he was exclusively bottle fed. I hated that he came into this world via c-section due to preeclampsia, and then didn't get the  "Breast is Best" experience either. It was a tough time. 

I was determined to make this time better. 

I armed myself with a doula, a midwife, and a great support group, and got my all natural VBAC (more on that crazy story later). I read books about BFAR (breastfeeding after a reduction) and prepared myself to make it work better this time. 

AND IT DID!!!

Davis shocked me by gaining back all of his birth weight plus some by one week. BUT, I became OBSESSED. I weighed him daily, sometimes more than once a day. I was going crazy. I was constantly analyzing every wet and dirty diaper. What color, how much, how often, I was LOSING.MY.MIND. My midwife put me on restriction. I was only allowed to weigh him once a week and TRUST in the process. That helped me calm down for a little while and we were doing great.

I didn't mind nursing AROUND THE CLOCK - as long as he gaining - I was happy. Quick shout out to my awesome supportive husband. He literally spoon fed me many meals in the first few weeks while I was nursing. He was constantly reassuring me and encouraging me to stick with it. As he put it, "Your job is to nurse Davis, I'll handle everything else." And, he did. He is the best.

At the same time, I felt that this put a lot of pressure on my to do it perfectly. I might be a little bit Type A, so I couldn't stand the thought that it might not be perfect and easy. In my head I imagined I would be glowing and smiling, and easily nursing in public without anyone even noticing, Davis would get a nice full belly within 15 minutes and then we would be on with our day. 

NOT.THE.REALITY.

Reality: every time I nurse I start getting a hot flash. Now I realize how miserable my mom has been for the past 10 years. Yuck. I'm a total shit show when it comes to nursing in public. Trying to get Davis settled, trying to get comfortable, trying not to flash anyone too much, having Davis nurse for 40 minutes at a time. We did it, but it was a PRODUCTION. 

Breastfeeding is hard!!!

I am so not like my big sister the Milk Goddess. She can feed an entire village. I swear. She even once squirted me with her breastmilk from ACROSS THE ROOM!!! I had no idea that was possible. We're talking long range missile status. Not to mention the time we asked her if she could get it under her armpit and squirt someone behind her...she tried. It was epic. She nurses and you don't even notice. She's holding a conversation with you and before you know it she's nursed her baby and finished. No nip-slips, no production, no cover. It's magic. I'm not like my mom either....she had milk to spare. In fact she once baked a cake with breastmilk when she couldn't get to the store in the middle of the night! Are you kidding me. I sit at the breast pump for hours for a single ounce!!!

So, easy to say that lactation doesn't come easy to me. But I was determined. Breast is best, NO ONE can dispute that, and by God I was going to make it happen. Even if it meant spending 12 hours a day sitting on my ass nursing. There is nothing like nursing your newborn. I was loving it, I was doing it, Davis and I had made it work. So sweet, so loving, so nurturing - and so beneficial for mommy and baby.

Well, something happened to us after 8 weeks. I don't know, maybe it was the move around the world and all of the accompanying stress, maybe it was my lack of sleep, maybe it was just my post-reduction body, but I just knew that Davis wasn't gaining weight like he should have been anymore. Our 12 hours a day of nursing increased, and increased, and increased. There were evenings where nursing on demand meant nursing for 3 hours straight, Thank God Caden is so easy - I was tied to little Davis. While he seemed content and happy, I just knew this wasn't normal. I was going crazy and he was always hungry.

Our long and skinny boy kept getting longer and longer...I kept waiting for the adorable baby fat, but it never came. He should have been so much chubbier from all of our nursing. First I hired a lactation consultant. She thought he looked great, but a little skinny. Her suggestion was to start taking a drug to increase my supply. I'm pretty much anti-drugs, so this wasn't a real option for me. 

Next I made an appointment with the Pediatric RN on base to get her opinion and to weigh sweet Davis. Our little one had only gained half a pound in the past 5 weeks. The good news is that he gained, just not enough. She also agreed that Davis looks great, he's developmentally advanced, happy, and LONG (still 97th percentile, and now almost 27" long) but skinny. 

So bottom line...now we are supplementing. Nursing followed by 2-4 ounces of formula. Call me crazy, but I would rather introduce formula than start taking a drug that has some pretty wicked side effects. Honestly, I had a gut feeling it would come to this. At first I felt horrible that I can't provide him with what he needs, but now I am at peace with it (most of the time). The ultimate goal is his health. As much as I want to be that perfect picture of the attachment parent - I'm not, and it makes me sad, but I just have to accept that I can't be perfect. 

Now here we are 5 days later...and we are still nursing successfully, and supplementing. Through the night he only nurses, and during the day he has between 8 and 12 ounces of formula total. AND...I'm back to obsessively weighing him since our kitchen scale just arrived at our hotel. Which brings me back to the picture above. Our boy has gained almost 2 pounds already - according to our makeshift scale - and he is even happier, and definitely WAY MORE content between feedings.

Before we started supplementing I was feeding him almost every hour, now he has been going 3-4 hours between feedings. I feel like I have my life back. It's wonderful...and at the same time I hate that I feel happy about this. I guess I'm on a roller coaster of feeling grateful that he is gaining weight and has become much easier to handle, and then feeling guilty for being happy about this. I'm sure so many nursing purists will be appalled that I am giving him formula...but I was losing my sanity...and now I can shower and do dishes and play a game with Caden and breathe a little easier. 

So...I may not be the best mommy for giving our boy formula; but he's growing, and I'm happier, and he's happier. Shouldn't that be what it's all about? There is just so much judgement out there and so much pressure to do the right thing. Breastfeeding vs. formula, co-sleeping vs. sleep training, cry-it out vs. anti cry-it-out, pacifier vs. no pacifier; the list goes on and on. Ultimately we all just have to do our best, and support each other...even if our 'best' is so totally different from someone else's. My best includes supplementing, and I'm coming to terms with that. In the meantime maybe just maybe I need to not put so much pressure on myself to be perfect...after all, I did produce these two boys and they are pretty awesome.

**AND I'm pretty sure Caden had peed his pants in this picture...yep, we can't win them all**
Oh well...even more fitting.
Mother of the Year.