Last week I was swanning around like Lady Bountiful. I was an overflowing fountain, so abundantly blessed with milk that I was ready to provide for children other than my own. My son’s cheeks are so resplendent, he is ripe like a berry. I had a moral obligation to share. I was feeling pretty good about myself.
And suddenly, rapidly, my supply started to bottom out.
In the course of five days I went from reliably banking 14 ounces each day at work to barely squeaking out 6. At the same time, Alden graduated from eating 9 or 10 ounces while I was at work to guzzling down about 15. You can guess what I see happening in my freezer.
I’m drinking enough water to irrigate Atlanta. I brought my pump home this weekend so I can sneak in a few sessions between feedings. I will nurse that baby if he so much as glances chestward. We’ve also started him on a little bit of rice cereal each day. So far it’s not enough to make a dent in his appetite, but I want him to have time to adjust comfortably.
A few things to note: [If you don’t want to see my flowery language morph into something more clinical, now is the time to skip to the next post.]
1. I might have a mild case of thrush. It’s not clear. There’s no visible evidence. But I’ve got a bit of discomfort on one side that may be an indicator. I’m asking my local drugstore to order some gentian violet, just in case.
2. It’s been a little stressful around life these days. I’m sure I don’t need to say more.
3. There are some hormonal changes going on. I’ve been breaking out a little bit. I haven’t gotten my period back yet, but am starting to wonder if I will soon.
I want to nurse this baby for a minimum of one year. Any and all thoughts and suggestions are welcome.
jaysaint 