Thursday, November 18, 2010

Multi-variable Calculus

Pumping output has been crap this week. On Tuesday, maybe 5 ounces, but the other days? Laughably bad.

Let's make a list of possible reasons:

  1. I thought it'd be nice to try the pump I own instead of the rental pump, just to see if I got the same results.  
  2. Second week on WW plan, so maybe the calorie restriction isn't helping?
  3. She's been eating more solids lately and last night, I'm pretty sure she slept from about 7:30 straight through until 4:45 with only a quick snack around 10pm. That's the first time that's happened in . . . 
  4. Or the fabulous all of the above + it's all in my head!  Yes, stress, right?  I'm psyching myself out with the personal pump because The Hospital Grade Pump Is Better.  Or because I'm thinking to hard about everything. I'm worried about there being enough milk so there's not enough milk.
Are there ANY other biological processes that get so much "it's in your head" diagnosing?  Drives me nuts.

When I left for work this morning there was only about 12 ounces frozen. I produced a mere 2 or so ounces yesterday so when I get home, there will be only 8 or 9 ounces frozen. After 5 pumps so far today? 2 ounces. Which means another frozen bag will go tomorrow. So I'll be down to 4 ounces frozen.

Four ounces frozen? That means no wedding fun in SF for me in a few weeks.  My mom says the baby will survive a supplementary formula bottle for the evening.  She's right, the baby will survive. However, NOT THE POINT.  Yeah, I just text-yelled at my mom on-line. Sorry, mom. You know I love you.  But if supplementing were something I wanted to do, I sure as eff wouldn't have been putting myself through the pumping gauntlet I've been going through since mid June.  And if I'm now having supply issues along with pumping issues, one bottle COULD have real consequences to my nursing future.

Tomorrow I'll bring the hospital pump back and if it gets more out, I'm going to cragislist this effing pump-in-style to help pay for the other pump's rental.

Sometimes I do dream of formula feeding.  But we're almost at 9 months. That's just 3 months from the one-year mark.  If I can make it till then, I'll have accomplished . . . something. I don't know what, exactly. I don't think you'll be able to pick my kid out of a line-up at her first birthday party as a clearly and obviously breastfed kid.  But while 2010 brought great change to my life in the form of a spectacular little girl, she's the high point in a field of failure.  A sea of missed, or biffed, opportunity.  A year of lost goals.  Maybe I can do this one thing.  It's not a big deal, but it's the only deal I have going right now and for the foreseeable future.

Fuck, that's depressing. 

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