The Last Time I Fed You

Dear Zoe,

You may not know it right now, but last night was the last time I fed you milk. It breaks my heart into a million pieces to think that we will never be that close, physically, again. As I sit here, tears streaming down my face, I have so many things I want to tell you about our nursing journey together.

During the first hour after you were born, you were nuzzled up to my breast and sucking away. You knew exactly what you needed to do, I don’t know how, but this is the miracle of birth, it all just comes together. I remember the nurse came to check to see how you were nursing and she had to remind me to make sure that you were able to breathe through your nose, one thing I had neglected to notice. However, I sorted ourselves out and you were able to breath and feed at the same time.

I didn’t know what I was doing at the beginning, should I feed both sides, how long should you feed, how much milk should be there, should I pump and feed you from a bottle, should my breasts have grown triple the size over night, how am I supposed to hold you, which positions to use? There were so many things that I didn’t know and all you need to know is that I did my best to figure out our “routine” and our own way of becoming master experts at breastfeeding.

The first 6 months were pretty easy, whenever you cried I would feed you and you were happy. We had no routine, I didn’t feel that it was necessary to watch the clock, like I said when you cried I fed you, no matter where we were or what we were doing. It worked out well.

The 6 month mark came around quite quickly and it was time to start introducing solids, which is when I started to panic a little, thinking about how this will affect milk supply. And it did, but apparently that was normal, I just hadn’t read that far into my book to know what happens. I was so focused on making the right food, the right consistency, the right way to use a spoon and of course the right way to save your life if you started to choke that I didn’t think so much about milk supply.

At around 8 months, I felt my milk supply was dwindling and that’s when I decided to hibernate for 4 days to get the milk flowing again. We spent 4 days in bed feeding every 2 hours and eating so many magical formulas that by the end of the 4 days I was bursting again. We did it together, without you I couldn’t have done it, and you were oh so patient with me as I made you drink and drink.

We spent the next few months continuing this back and forth from solids to milk and it worked out great. You got bigger and stronger and started to crawl and walk and before I knew it was your first birthday. Such a milestone, we made it one year together and that was always my goal and after one year I would stop feeding you and you would be free to go. However, I wasn’t ready and to be honest, neither were you. You would often come to me for some milk, so we continued.

In the last month, I have questioned myself about whether it was really necessary to keep feeding you your morning and night-time feeds. One part of me would think, “Why not, it’s so great for her immune system and if you have the milk and she still wants it just keep going”. Then there was the selfish part of me that was saying, “Just stop and let yourself be free. You can get your life and body back after two years with this baby”. And last night I decided it was the perfect time and the right time.

Weird to say the right time, as you had been fighting a virus for the past 2 days but listen to me, it was the perfect time. Unfortunately, you had missed your afternoon nap, due to our doctors appointment and I was trying to keep you awake as long as possible so that you could go to sleep around 6. But 5 pm hit and you didn’t want to wait any longer.

You stood by my legs, lifted your arms to me and whimpered so I would know you were hungry. I lifted you and tucked you under my right arm, lifted my shirt and off you suckled. I sat and watched you, looking at your perfect face and shiny hair, marvelling at the thought that I had made you. You were a part of me and I am a part of you. I also looked at how big you had grown and that you are no longer a helpless little baby anymore, and that soon you won’t need me for this. I quickly pushed this thought out of my head, because, you see, I didn’t want to accept that there will be a day that you won’t be lying in my arms and you won’t need me for milk.

I switched you to the left side. Again, I couldn’t stop looking at you. Your eyes were closed and I knew, that very soon, you were going to fall asleep in my arms. You kept nodding off and then coming back for more and eventually you were gone. You had stopped sucking but had stayed in that position. As I started adjust myself, your little mouth parted and instead of me you grabbed your thumb and in it went. We stayed like that for a little while. It was the most peaceful feeling I have ever experienced, your body curled up next to me, your cheeks were rosy red, like a painted doll, and your skin slightly glowing from the effort of feeding and from the warmth our bodies generated off each other. It was at that moment that I said that was the last time. I wanted that to be the moment I remembered from this experience. I didn’t want to give us a deadline, having an off switch would just stress me out. But this moment, at exactly 15 months old was going to be the last time I nurse you.

Now, I feel this great big shift, like the world moved a little. I feel a sense of grief, which is probably why I don’t feel great today, suffering from an achy body and temperature. It is an emptiness I am going to have to fill and with your help we are going to find new ways to bond and be together.

Just always remember that you can jump into my arms whenever you wish. Don’t think I gave up on you by stopping, see it as a new beginning to becoming a bigger and stronger person. You are the funniest, strongest most beautiful little person out there and I am so proud of you for growing up so wonderfully. You have mastered independence by going to kindergarten without a fuss. You cried for the first 10 minutes of the first day and that was it. You go to kindergarten with the biggest heart and with so much passion and love for everyone. When your teachers tell me about your day and what you did, I just explode with pride. When you cheer me on during our running or cycling trainings, my heart skips a beat, because you support me as much as we support you.

From this day on, we will both find other ways to love and cherish one another. It will give us more time to hug and kiss and tell each other how much we love each other. We can spend more time talking and more time dressing up and more time watching Spongebob Squarepants. Time hasn’t stopped and it will only get faster, however, we can enjoy more things together this way. I did it for you, like I always have and always will.

I love you, baby girl.

Mummy xxx

 

 

Mummy Hangover Day

Most of us have been there, waking up with a heavy head. You slowly peel open one eye, morning is here, the sun is too bright. Makeup smeared all over your face and your hair is dishevelled. Your mouth is dry and fluffy and belly full with the big mac you don’t remember munching on before making the trip back home. You have two options, one stay in bed and try to sleep off the headache or you crawl out of bed, taking duvet and pillow to the couch.  With curtains drawn and tea and chocolate in hand, you waste the day watching movies, wishing the pain to fade.

No, this is not me today, but there are days, which I call the Mummy hangover day. This is the kind of day where I wake up, even if I feel like I never went to bed, and think we don’t need to do ANYTHING today.

Beat Fatigue – Stay in Bed.

Zoe and I had one already this week, and I think today is going to be another. It is not like me to want to stay in the house, in my pyjamas all day, but it seems like we are heading that way again. Normally, we go for very long walks, we go shopping or meet with some friends. But there are times, when we need a break, and this week we need two.

There is nothing that compares to shutting the blinds, closing the windows and just turning myself off. I think of everyone else getting on with their lives, going to work, or shopping or whatever it is that people do all day, and I am in my pyjamas without a care in the world. Perfection. Everyone needs these kind of days, to slow down and to just rest every muscle and brain cell in their bodies.
Monday, both Zoe and I, woke up, had our breakfasts and went straight back to sleep. You couldn’t stop our heavy eyes from shutting. We were all cosy together, her lying on top of me breathing soundly, warming my body with hers. Her arms draped over my sides, she knows not to cling because she knows she is safe and doesn’t need to worry, her mummy will hold her. There was no sound in the house, just the faint hum of cars and buses passing by the closed windows.

After awhile, like a sloth, I crawl out of bed, and decide this is the day that I can finally catch up on my Grey’s Anatomy. I only have a few episodes left until the end of the season. I grab a cup of tea and some biscuits, very English I know, and lie down on the couch and watch. Wow, and what a tear joker it was but a great remedy for a Mummy hangover day. But it wasn’t enough, I needed more, so I find a movie, sit back and relax.

Before I know it I hear the keys jingling in the door and someone comes home. We get a few odd looks and a sarcastic sly comment, “Oh, you guys were busy today then”. Yes, I am sorry, I may not have to get up to go to work everyday, but this new Mummy job is quite tiring sometimes. Actually, I am not sorry, we are tired and needed rest, end of story. But this remark did not go down too well when there was no food for dinner. In my relaxing mode I may have slightly forgotten to cook any food. But, if I look closely, very closely, I did see a hint of sympathy flash over his face when he saw the effort it took to lift my aching body off the couch. Before I knew it, the daddy/chef was in the kitchen cooking up a storm. I succeeded, it was truly a magical day.

And really, that is all I needed, one whole day to do literally nothing, and my batteries were recharged and I was ready to conquer the world again. Today, I think I may be pushing the limits when I say I need another day. But, the food is already cooked, so no problem there, just another day to recharge. Perhaps this is the calm before the storm, as the weekend is shaping up to be pretty hectic. We are ending this week with the Budapest half marathon, which is scary and exciting. It won’t be the full marathon just the relay, so I will only be running 10km. But those 10 km represent the 10 weeks that I have had my little, sweet and beautiful baby girl in my arms. and what a journey it has been.

 

 

 

World Travellers

I would classify myself as a very competent and seasoned traveller. I have lived abroad since I was 4 years old, travelling the world from homes to vacations. I know the ins and outs of airport procedures and don’t mind the sitting and the waiting.

When I was younger, my family, 4 children and Mum and Dad, would march along the floors, quickly trying to find the gate so that we could camp out until boarding time, unless we were lucky enough to make it into a lounge. Big brother dawdling at the back of our clan, most likely playing on his gameboy or blasting out some kind of music, me, carrying my backpack full of Barbies and one important Spot, younger sister, running to keep up the pace most likely on the verge of cryingbecause her little legs couldn’t keep up the pace mile after mile of airport corridors. Mum pushing the pushchair with baby and hundreds of bags hanging off the handles and Dad gripping tightly to all passports, tickets and visas making sure to get his family to the gate without  incident.

As we trekked along, there are of course the looks from all the other worldly passengers. Most looking at our family like we were a circus show. Others thanking their lucky stars we have passed their gate and not catching their flight. Others praying and wishing has hard as they could that they we walk straight on by. And then there was, of course, the very unlucky few who saw us approach and wonder what they did to deserve us on their 13 hour flight. There eyes would scan to see if they could see where on this jumbo jetwe were sitting.

We were the typical travelling family. We took advantage of the baggage allowance and I am sure that most of the time we exceeded on that. Mother and father trying to keep their children as occupied aspossibly possible. Children opening their bags, dumping toy after toy on the floor, a foreshadow of what is bound to be a lost toy. And then there was the constant moaning of hunger, tiredness and of course a general sense of being fed up of herding.

Once on the plane, there was the inevitable fight over which person got to sit by the window or who would sit with who. We were often separated due to the fact that we were such a big family that they couldn’t sit us all together. Mum was not happy with this arrangement, which would cause a few more disagreements. There was always bound to be one broken TV or someone had a faulty chair. This was something we just had to deal with and if we were lucky Dad would sacrifice his seat to keep the peace.

It was always plain sailing after take off. We managed to keep ourselves occupied with games and movies for 13 hours. We slept great too unless you were the baby who managed to cry the entire flight. Dad and Mum took it in turns to walk up and down the aisle trying to soothe their baby. On one occasion the baby screaming that she just had to get off the plane mid-air.

Now, it is my turn to be the mum. My turn to hide my panic and fear as we travel for the first time together. My turn to pack and check the bags. My turn to make sure everyone is happy and content. And my turn to have heads staring at my family as everyone glares at the newborn baby  praying and wishing this baby does not cry the entire flight. I cannot say what Miss Zoe is going to be like or what her reaction is going to be when flying. All I have up my sleeve, literally, is milk and hoping this is going to be enough to keep her calm and collected.

 

The Nurse Said What?

Yesterday, (as in over a week ago,takes a long time to write a post these days) Zoe had her 1 month check up. I was excited to go and tell the nurse and the doctor about all of her developments. Of course, there were a few issues that had to be checked and we have been given special creams and lotions, as well as specialist doctor appointments. But, for me, I was excited to show and tell all of her milestones, which comes with a sigh of relief when your a new mother and you want your baby to be on track.

One of my biggest worries, as a first time mum, was tackling the whole breastfeeding drama. I would say th

at Zoe and I haven’t had much trouble in this department. I read book after book, article after article and watched hundreds of videos before she was born. I was determined that we were going to start off strong and that I was ready for all the bumps in the road. And it worked.

Zoe, just like any baby, knows exactly when she needs to eat. I will say that day feeds are completely different from night-time feeds. I have no idea why this is, the books don’t seem to have much information on the vast contrast between these two times of day. During the day, Zoe is a lot more calm and tends to just cry a little to let me know she is hungry. The evening is a totally different story.

From around 9pm, she becomes very aggressive and very loud when she knows its time for her to eat. Her cries ring out through my ears, her tongue shakes in her mouth, her hands clench into tight fists and her body trembles. I grab her and tuck her under my arm. In my effort to open my shirt, which clearly is not quick enough for her, she starts to kick, punch and scratch me. I have to admit that it really hurts, A LOT. There comes a moment when she senses that the food is “ready” and she starts sniffing like a little bunny, just an aggressive one. I hear this sniff-sniff, her lips open, getting ready for the kill, she clamps down hard and starts suckling. Every time she does this she is stopped in her tracks and she starts spluttering all over me. In her eagerness to get her food she sucks too hard, causing gallons and gallons of milk to come squirting out, like a raging water slide. And again, she starts crying from shock and she starts hitting and kicking again. After a few seconds she grabs on one more time and she is happy, at least on the most part. There have been a few times when she stops in the middle, cries a little and then continues.

There is very little explanation for this. One theory is that milk supply, in the evening, is more fatty and contains more calories and is therefore a little different. But I don’t know if this has much effect on flow or on taste, and in my opinion it does not. So, despite this major activity session, feeding has been pretty good for us. She does seem to eat a lot and for the last couple of weeks I have been feeding her for 30 mins about every 2-3 hours. I was under the impression that this was OK.  But I was told otherwise yesterday.

When Zoe was born she weighed 2.98kg/ 6.5lb and yesterday she weighed 4.21kg/9.3lb. I do realise that is quite a big leap in 4 and a half weeks. However, I didn’t think that it would be a problem that my baby grew a lot. The nurse thinks otherwise and has advised me to cut back on feeding time and how often. WHAT????????? Do I really put my baby on a diet already?

I was more than shocked to hear this, I don’t know why, but I thought we would have been given high praise for achieving such great progress. Because believe me, it is not easy getting the hang of this whole breastfeeding stuff, waking several times in the middle of the night, having a baby literally hang off my body 24/7. I feel like a cow processing  milk for the 5,000. I also thought that it is not a good idea to give a baby a schedule before 2 or 3 months. And believe me this baby has no schedule with feeding, or anything else, there is no such thing with a newborn. But now, I have to feed Zoe every 4 hours for 15-20 minutes. If you saw my little baby she isn’t even fat, she hasn’t got any of those little baby rolls, her belly is not swollen, she just has the chunkiest cheeks you have ever seen.

Well, the last 24 hours (and over the last week or so) have been a little difficult, to say the least. The screams have been gut wrenching, and trying to keep a newborn baby occupied in between feeds is not an easy task. We have started at 2.5 hours and going to 3 and so and on and so forth. I refuse to just let my baby cry and of course when she cries hysterically I feed her. But it is a hard decision to make to know when she is hungry or crying just because.

There is of course the little matter of colic. I have come to realise that this could have made an appearance on our little girl. The crying comes in constant waves at the moment. Come food or not whenever she is awake she seems to cry. Nothing seems to calm her and we have tried a lot of remedies to try and soothe and comfort her. Could it be trouble tummy or just because, we don’t really know. I am on a dairy free, caffeine free, tomato free diet, which seems to have helped her tummy to some level but not fully. I feel it is a bit of waiting game at the moment and hopefully something that will pass over time, sooner rather than later. I don’t know how many more midnight walks and drives we can take. But we are determined to win this battle.

Life With a Newborn

Well, first of all, I have to say that I did not expect to see so much change in a newborn in such a short space of time. When ever I heard someone say that babies grow so fast, I really did not think it would be like this. Zoé is no longer a teeny tiny 2.98kg newborn, she has already grown to a 3.4kg baby. I am, of course, proud of her and I for all the hard work with the feeding but I already miss her skinny arms and legs  and pocket-size hands and feet. Day by day I see a change in her, which is awesome, but a little part of me pines for day 1 again.

Zoé seems to be a very happy and content little baby. She wakes up everyday hungry and raring to get the day started. She eats and then she wants a nice little play for a couple of hours before passing out. Most late afternoons and evenings she is up and enjoying family time, which includes bath and food and a little playing. For a week now, she sleeps from 10 pm to 1 am feeds for an hour and then goes back to sleep until 5 or 6 am. This has been a welcome surprise and hasn’t been as tough as I was expecting.

There have been very few screaming and crying episodes from Zoé. There have been a couple of times when she cried  during or after having a bath and after her morning feed when I am having my breakfast. This morning, we had our first hysterical incident, which I managed to calm down with swaddling. I was more than surprised that after 2 hours of on/off crying I wrapped her up and within in 2 minutes she was settled. I am not jumping for joy just yet, it could be a fluke or just luck, but it did work this morning and swaddling will be the first thing I turn to when it happens again.

It has been extremely uncomfortable trying to do anything in the heat. I think it is unusually hot, temperatures reaching 40 degrees celsius, and for a newborn it really is not the best. Last week we managed to go out during the day, but this week we are just staying inside during the day. It is terrifying when I see her little red face from the heat or hold her sweaty little head. So, our Air Con is blasting out cold air 24/7, we even camped out in the living room one night, as this room is the coolest. But, she seems quite happy and if she wasn’t I am sure she would be crying to let us know that she was uncomfortable. However, almost everyday we go outside in the evening to get some fresh air and see the world.

I am not sure what Zoe feels about me taking all these pictures of her. But I just can’t help myself. Naturally, I think she is the most beautiful baby and the perfect baby. I also want to treasure ever moment of her life and to document her growth. I do know that the silly little posing pictures I take are more for me than for her and just for fun. I just love dressing her up and putting her into those cute little positions.

As for me, I have already lost 9 kg with one and a half to go. I don’t think I will lose that 1 kilo when I am breastfeeding as I think that it is probably milk. I have been amazed at how quickly my stomach has gone down. My body is not back to where it was, but my stomach is gone. It actually looks like a deflated balloon, which really is not pretty and something I cannot wait to sort out.  I am back in my normal clothes again, which is making me feel more like myself again, so no more black and blues for awhile. I have been walking everyday, a few power walking trips with Nelson or going out in the evenings with Zoe. I have also been doing some light stomach exercises, not crunches, just some pelvic floor exercises combined with abdominal muscle “joining” (not sure what to call them) exercises. I cannot do much more at this point until my stitches come out and I have been given the green light from the doctor.

I thought I would be more tired than I am right now. Zoe is a really great sleeper and I manage to get 3 hours straight before her first feed in the night and then another 3 or 4 hours before we wake up in the morning. So, it is quite OK for the moment. One thing I have had to change is my morning routine. I must change and feed her before I can think about myself. So, that means I am not ready for the day before 10 am, which is quite a big difference from my normal 5 am routine. We are embracing all these changes and loving every minute.