Image courtesy of Jessica Marchetti Photography

My top 10 breastfeeding tips and tricks… things that worked for me.

1. Build a varied support network. It’s not enough to just plan to meet with the hospital lactation consultant before you come home. It’s not enough to just have a good friend or relative who’s breastfed. You need to have support on many levels, and you need to remember that a lot of the time the advice others give you will be greatly affected by their own, unique experience. Get second and third opinions. If you need a friend to encourage you to keep going, tell them that. Sometimes friends don’t know how to best support you, and may encourage you to quit. If what you really need is a cheerleader, tell them that.

2. Have a pump from day one. Even if you don’t plan on ever feeding your baby from a bottle, you need a pump. I didn’t have one when we brought Kendall home, and within a few weeks I had to explain to Scott what to buy at Target while I laid in bed with a 103 fever and my first round of mastitis. With Leyna, I had to pump an engorged breast before she would latch. You don’t have to have an expensive electric pump. A manual pump will do the trick, and you can usually get them for less than $30 or $40.

3. Stock up on one-handed, healthy snacks. You’re going to be spending the majority of your time sitting down with your baby. It’s really, really hard to find time to eat a proper meal. Get cheese-sticks, protein bars, have your partner make you some sliced fruit, or a quartered sandwich. Smoothies are another great option.

4. Don’t be afraid of teeth, BUT... Teething babies don’t always bite, but in my experience, it’s happened with both of mine. They’ve never drawn blood. It still hurts like hell, though. While the natural reaction may be to pull the baby away from your breast quickly, DON’T. Instead, hold them very close to you, smooshing their face to your breast. This should make them unlatch very quickly. (Obviously don’t hold them there very long.)

5. If you want your baby to take a bottle, don’t wait too long and keep it up. I guess this is conflicting advice, because I know some say you should wait 6-8 weeks before introducing any sort of artificial nipple, so do what works best for you and what you feel comfortable with. That said, Kendall took a bottle when he was very young because he had to. I had mastitis and needed the rest. Then we took a few months off, and he never took one after that. I wish we would have kept it up. It was very stressful not being able to leave him. With Leyna, we started bottles and pacifiers within the first couple weeks/days. The bottles were only every now and then, as a means to give me a break, but the pacifier was and still is a frequent thing for her… and I am completely, totally fine with that.

6. Nurse when and where and how YOU want.  If you want to nurse in public without a cover, ROCK ON. If you feel more comfortable covering up, go for it. If you would rather bring a bottle of pumped milk or nurse in your car, that’s totally your call. Don’t let anyone else make you feel bad about HOW you feed your baby. If you desire to nurse in public but are too nervous to jump into it, bring your baby and a good friend to a quiet park or bench to practice first. If you never find yourself comfortable enough to nurse in public without a cover, that’s fine! Don’t feel like you have to, but please don’t judge other moms who do. And please, never ever let anyone make you feel like you have to feed your baby in a bathroom… unless, I guess, you want to?

7. Know your rights. Breastfeeding in public, covered or not, is a legally protected right in most states. Go here to find out what your breastfeeding rights are, both in public and in the workplace, if that’s applicable.

8. Learn to nurse laying down as soon as you can. I know, I know, it’s scary laying down to nurse a newborn. They are so tiny, and what if you roll over them?! You won’t. Use safe co-sleeping practices, and even if you don’t ever fall asleep, you can still rest while laying down. It took me a couple months before I was comfortable doing this with my first. With my second, I was nursing her in the side-laying position in the hospital bed her first day of life (which felt much better than sitting up at the time).

9. Plan to keep the baby in your room for a few months. Oh, those nurseries are so fun to decorate, but, to me, they’re completely useless (or at least very expensive rooms to change diapers in) the first few months. Even if you don’t plan on co-sleeping, it will still be so helpful to keep the baby next to your bed in a Pack & Play or, even better, an attached Arm’s Reach Co-sleeper. Breastfed babies tend to wake more frequently at night (not always, though, and formula fed babies can wake frequently, too), and you’re not going to want to trek across the house to their beautiful nursery every time they wake.

10. Take care of yourself. All new moms need to do this, but if you’re breastfeeding, it’s really, really important you’re staying hydrated, eating enough and getting enough rest. If you start to get a fever or feel flu-ish, check your breasts immediately for hot-spots and hard lumps. It could be the beginning of mastitis, which will knock you on your ass SO. HARD. if you don’t catch it early. Call your doctor right away to see if you need antibiotics. In the meantime, hop in a hot shower and express your breast and massage the hard lump as much as you can stand. Drink a ton of water and get some rest.

Do you have anything you’d add?

By the time Kendall, my first, turned one, I had an end date in mind for our breastfeeding relationship. He had self-weaned down to 2 times a day at that point, and I was just… done. The 13.5 months that I breastfed him were a struggle at times, especially the first few months. I was very aware of every day that I breastfed him one day longer.

This time around, my experience has been much different. We had a small challenge at the beginning, getting Leyna to latch to my left breast was a battle the first few days. Once we moved beyond that, though, it was smooth sailing. Leyna, now a year old, still nurses 6 or more times a day (and night). She loves solids, she drinks cows milk, but she’s just not ready to give up nursing, and I haven’t felt the need to press the issue. 

So all that is to say I’ve breastfed for a combined total of nearly 26 months now, and I’m still going. I’ve been through a few struggles, and have learned a lot. Maybe you can learn something from me, too.

Kendall is 3.5 years old and Leyna is 1 year old.

People always ask me if I make straight cream, or milkshakes in these boobs. Whatever it is, I joke that I was a dairy cow in another life… the kind they use to make ice cream… ice cream that makes you very chubby.

Like this:

Wow. She’s going to HATE ME for this when she gets older. But I just can’t resist. The ankle chub?? I die.

Leyna is 11.5 months old, and all ad revenue generated from this post is going directly to her future-therapy fund. 

So when one of my 2 Milkstars shirts are clean, it’s likely I’ll reach for it to wear, especially if I plan to be out and about with the kids for a while. Milkstars sent me the Julian v-neck in purple and the Jenny scoop neck in gray right before Leyna was born. I’ve been wearing them since the day after we got home from the hospital.

These shirts don’t look like nursing tops. In fact, I expect I’ll wear them long after I’m actually done breastfeeding. What makes them work is a secret inside panel. You just lift up the shirt and under it is a full coverage panel in the exact same material and color, with cutouts to the left and right up top for the girls. Still confused? Milkstars explains how they work here.

Here’s what I love:

*The fabric is super soft and really stretchy.

*The quality is great. The stitching is solid and these shirts have great structure.

*The fit is really flattering. It’s not just like putting on a regular t-shirt. They hug me in the right spots.

Here’s what is a little less than perfect:

*They aren’t super long, but they are long enough. I have an average length torso and they hit me right at the hip. I’d LOVE if they were a couple inches longer. (It looks like there are a couple shirts that I don’t have that are longer, including the one I’m giving away today.)

*The fabric pills just a bit. It’s not terrible, and like I said, I’ve worn the heck out of them the last 6 months, so consider that.

*They really hug your curves. It’s a good thing and a bad thing. I found myself wearing the gray one more (size large) the first few months until I lost some of the baby belly. Now I’m comfortable in my medium, purple top. I would suggest ordering a size larger than your pre-pregnancy size for immediately after having your baby.

The shirts range from $54 to $60, they also offer a dress for $85 and pajamas for $79. Steep, I know. But, I would consider these quality investment pieces. I think they are neutral and robust enough to last you for many years, even beyond breastfeeding.

Milkstars just started selling a new shirt that I LOVE. I must make it mine! The Jolie is a little longer and can work even as a maternity top. And while I’ll have to wait a while to add it to my collection, one of you gets to win it! Up for grabs is one Jolie in black. You can choose from size S, M, L, or XL. This is open to US and Canada residents.

To enter, you must visit the Milkstars Shop and tell me in a comment below what your favorite piece is.

For additional entries, you can:

Follow me on Twitter- @BabyRabies
Follow Milkstars on Twitter- @Milkstars

Please leave a separate comment for each thing you do.

I’ll use Random.org to draw the winner Monday, July 25th.

Disclosure- Milkstars sent 2 tops to me in exchange for a review. All opinions are my own. I was not paid for this review.

**Entries now closed. Congrats to commenter #146, Katrina, as chosen by Random.org.**

I shoved my Hygeia Enjoye back in my already over stuffed tote bag and made my way to the Starbucks. Standing in line, I heard faint crying noises coming from my bag. Heads turned, eyes shifted. “Oh, it’s just my breast pump,” I smiled, making everyone in line all squirmy and uncomfortable. (The Enjoye has a feature where you can record your baby’s cries to help with let down.) It provided much fun and entertainment for me as it continued to randomly play throughout my wait in the terminal while people, I’m sure, wondered how and why I would be smuggling a baby on board.

While in flight, I had to lug my bag to the butt-crack sized closet known as the restroom on the plane to pump. One quarter turn of my head in there and I was glad I also had my small, manual pump with me. There wasn’t enough room in there for me to take my sweater off, let alone set up an electric pump. Plus, I didn’t even want to know what the passengers and flight attendants would think about the noises coming from within. I pumped out 5 ounces in about 5 minutes, then realized I didn’t bring a cap for the bottle I pumped into and left my storage bags in my checked baggage. I figured if I left the bottle attached to the pump, zipped tightly inside a cooler, and kept it in my bag upright, it wouldn’t be an issue.

Fast forward to baggage claim. I lean over, tote slung across my shoulder (now randomly playing airplane noises, which somehow recorded over my crying baby and, I’m pretty sure, don’t do anything for letdown), and I feel something wet on my arm. Hmmm… that’s strange. I double checked the cap on my water bottle and figured it was condensation.

However, upon further inspection once I arrived at the hotel, I discovered a full 2.5 ounces were missing from the bottle, the entire bottom of my bag was soaked with breastmilk, and I’m fairly certain at least an ounce of it leaked out into the overhead compartment without my knowledge. Let that be your PSA.

Always check the overhead cabin for breastmilk before laying your bag up there.

As I type this, I can smell the sour breastmilk wafting from my unpacked baggage. Excuse me… let me just go toss that in the wash real quick. ::gag::

I decided to just haul my handy, small manual pump with me out to Nintendo HQ the next day. Nintendo was a very super secret place where they didn’t allow us to take any photos (except in a very plain, devoid of anything super interesting room), and they required us to be escorted everywhere… even to the bathroom (with the CUTEST silhouette of the Princess outside the ladies room, which I totally wanted to take a picture of and Tweet, but I’m in no place to deal with a lawsuit).

The first time I went to pump, I felt I should warn my escort that my bathroom visit would be a while.

“I’m probably going to be at least 10 minutes,” I said.

He looked concerned.

“Oh, it’s just because I’m going to need to pump.”

He looked confused.

“Like, breastmilk, you know? I’m breastfeeding and-”

“Oh! Yeah. Fine. Okay,” he hurriedly cut me off with a “Whoa! TMI” look.

You’d think I just told him, “I’m going to go into the bathroom, expose my breasts, attach these suction cups the size of a cat’s head to my nipples and milk myself like a dairy cow,” all while miming the process.

But he was cute and nice and obviously not used to being around lactating women. It was funny.

Throughout the 2.5 days I was there, I pumped and saved 64 ounces. And on Saturday morning, minutes before my shuttle picked me up, I handed it off to a mother from Portland, visiting friends in Seattle. She plans to use it to supplement her own breastmilk supply for her 3 month old daughter (born on Leyna’s due date). She expressed her gratitude several times, offered to buy me coffee and gave me a big hug. It was an AMAZING feeling.

A week ago I wasn’t even thinking of donating my milk to anyone. I was struggling with the decision to bring it home with me on the plane or dump it. Neither option was one I was really comfortable with. I already had so much stuff I was lugging home with me, and the trip logistics were stressful enough. I didn’t want to deal with hauling it all home. But to dump it? Gah. No. That just couldn’t happen.

Then I posted this blog the day before I left. I knew women donate breastmilk, but didn’t think I had enough time to coordinate it, to fill out paperwork or get bloodwork done. A couple readers and Facebook fans pointed me to HM4HB (Human Milk 4 Human Babies). I posted on the Washington chapter’s Facebook page that I was willing to donate what I pumped if someone could pick it up from me at the hotel, and I had a reply within minutes. Easy peasy.

She didn’t ask that I have any medical tests done. It was very much an honor system. She asked if I had any illnesses, was on any medication or any special diets. I informed her I’d be having some adult beverages while there, and she was comfortable with that. Beyond that, there was no paperwork to fill out, no doctors to see, no tests to take.

Now, I’ll be honest and say I’m not sure I’d ever be comfortable feeding my children breastmilk from strangers (though I would consider breastmilk from women I know well), BUT I had no problem giving it, and I certainly don’t judge my recipient for using it. Just, for me, I’m not sure it’s something I’d feel comfortable with (and I know my husband wouldn’t). What about you?

Regardless, it felt like the right thing to do, and I’d rather it go to a family who needs it than to the Seattle sewer system.

I’ll be back tomorrow to share more details about my Seattle trip to Nintendo and how MIND BLOWING the new Nintendo 3DS (#SAMP) is, but I just had to share this story with you all today. It warmed my heart that rainy, cold and gray day.

Kendall is 2 years 11 months and Leyna is 3 months old

1. iPhone- I didn’t have an iPhone or any kind of smart phone with Kendall in the beginning. Oh, I didn’t know what I was missing! I remember begging Scott to set up a small TV in our bedroom after the first week because I needed *something* to do while I was up all night with him. I can’t even count how many late night infomercials I watched in those early months.

Now? I can read books, reply to emails, chat on Twitter, catch up on Facebook, and even blog all from my iPhone. Many days I don’t have time to crack open my laptop until naptime, but I can check in quickly on my phone throughout the day. Not to mention, I love that I have a camera and video camera with me at all times. Great for capturing those adorable and hilarious moments of life with a newborn and a toddler and sending them to distant family and friends. And the calendar and alerts features have saved me from having to remember all those doctor’s appointments.

2. A good pump- I didn’t pump much with Kendall because all I had was a manual pump, and it just didn’t work out for me. I’m really lucky nothing ever happened that would have made me rely on a freezer stash. This time around I have an AMAZING pump from Hygeia, and as a result, I have an ever-growing freezer stash of breastmilk.

Hygeia sent me the Enjoye electric double pump for free to review, and I started using it just a few days after we brought Leyna home. She refused to latch on to my left nipple after my milk came in, and I was fighting engorgement. Within 2 days I had 10 ounces in the freezer. This pump is SO efficient and SO easy to use, especially compared to the manual I dealt with with Kendall (no wonder I never wanted to use that thing!). I don’t know what I would have done without it. I always bust it out when I feel clogged ducts. So far, no full blown mastitis this time around!

A good pump is a necessity for any working mom who wishes to breastfeed, but even stay at home moms benefit from a pump. It’s always good to have an emergency freezer stash, and wonderful for that morning after the first night your baby sleeps longer than 4 hours and you think your breasts are about to explode.

The Hygeia Enjoye, unlike many other popular electric pumps, is a non-hospital grade breast pump registered with the FDA for multiple users. There is no risk of your milk coming in contact with anything a previous user’s milk touched if you get your own personal accessory set. It’s the “greenest” breast pump because it CAN be used by more than one mother, and when it comes to the end of it’s lifecycle, you can send it back to Hygeia and they will recycle it. As of this year, breast pumps and supplies are now tax deductible and you can use your flex savings account to get reimbursed for your purchase. So go get you a GOOD breast pump!

3. Bouncy Seat- We have quite a few baby apparatuses, and I babywear when I can, but the Fisher Price bouncy seat has seen the most use out of all of them. It’s where Kendall slept for a couple months and where Leyna now sleeps (propped up next to us inside her co-sleeper). It’s also lightweight, easy to move around the house, and a great place to lay baby outside the shower while you clean up, alternating scrubbing your hair and peeking out to check on them.

Plus, we’ve found our babies love to be bounced to sleep. As I type this, Leyna is in her bouncy seat on the floor in front of me napping while I gently bounce her with my feet. There are several designs to choose from. You don’t need anything too fancy, and the lighter, the better.

4. Moby Wrap- A lot of times, babies just want to be held, they want to be close to you. If you want to get anything done (dishes, makeup, going to the bathroom), you’ll have a lot more luck keeping baby close and being semi-productive with one of these. It’s simplicity was intimidating to me at first. It’s just a long piece of fabric you have to learn to wrap and tie a certain way, but once I figured it out, it was a breeze. Both babies loved being snuggled next to me in it. It’s also the only way I can go grocery shopping with both kids. Kendall sits in the front of the cart and Leyna snuggles in the Moby. When Kendall had colic, I could get him to calm many times by putting him in it and going for a bouncy walk outside. Sure, I looked a little silly, but it quieted the screams.

5. Flatfolds as Burp Cloths – All babies spit up, some a lot more than others. We’ve been pretty lucky that neither Kendall nor Leyna have been really messy in this department, but we still use the heck out of these Gerber cloths. They are technically old-fashioned cloth diapers, though I think they work much better as burp cloths and all around baby cleanup cloths. I keep a couple in my diaper bag, and we always have one floating around the living room. They do work as an extra diaper in a pinch, also great for cleaning up blowouts and blowing snotty noses. Down the road, they’ll make great house cleaning rags.

6. White Noise- When I met with Dr. Harvey Karp last week he told me a new study showed that babies who are swaddled and listen to white noise at night sleep on average an extra hour longer. An extra hour  of sleep with a newborn is pretty close to winning the lottery. White noise was great for Kendall when colic was at it’s peak. We even kept CDs (similar to this one) of vacuum and hair dryer noises in both cars. But even beyond colic, he still sleeps with white noise every night from his Homemedics Lullaby Sound Spa. Since we still have the monitor on in his room and Leyna sleeps with us, we all end up listening to the same noises all night.

7. Swaddling Blankets- I’m a believer of the 4th trimester theory, that babies aren’t really *ready* for the world when they are born. I learned all about this in Dr. Harvey Karp’s Happiest Baby On The Block book. We found once we started swaddling Kendall, he calmed much quicker and slept longer. We didn’t hesitate to start this with Leyna. We swaddled her in these sweet Aden & Anais muslin blankets at first (love that they are lightweight!), and quickly moved her into the Miracle Blanket when she got a little bigger and stronger. I like to say the Miracle Blanket is woven threads of baby tranquilizers.

8. Primo EuroBath- We went through 4 different containers to bathe Kendall in, never really loving any of them. The first was a baby sling, which made me cringe. Maybe we were using it wrong, but all it seemed to do was hold his naked wet body up and out of the water. Didn’t look comfortable at all, and seemed incredibly cold. This time around a friend got the Primo EuroBath tub for us and I LOVE it. You use one side for tiny babies, then switch it  around and sit older babies in the other side. For newborns, you can fill it just enough to let them be slightly submerged, and it keeps them in place in a reclined position. You can use it on a countertop, but we just keep ours in the kid’s tub.

9. Boppy-  I use this primarily as a breastfeeding pillow, and while I’ll admit there are more supportive pillows for newborn breastfeeding (like the My Brest Friend), this is still my favorite over all. First of all, the Boppy is easy to use, no straps to deal with. It’s also multi-purpose. It’s great for tummy time, comfy for new moms to sit on when healing after delivery, and it makes an excellent neck pillow while traveling in the car. Make sure you get an extra cover for yours. I find I’m always washing mine.

10. Cloth Diapers- We’re cloth diapering a newborn for a 2nd time, and the love is still there. Again, we’re using Kissaluvs size 0 fitteds with Thirsties covers primarily. I’m sorry to say Sunshine Diapers no longer offers the Kissaluvs Newborn Rental package (epic sad!), but you can buy them used from places like DiaperSwappers, or buy your own new stash and sell them or loan them out when you’re done. I also tried a Fuzzi Bunz XS pocket diaper (sent to me for review at no cost) and quickly fell in love with it. They are more expensive than the fitted diapers, but very convenient and trim. I think they make a great addition to a newborn cloth diaper stash.

Of course, every baby and family is different, and what works great for me and mine may not be a good fit for you. These are just 10 things that make *my* life easier. Do you agree or disagree with any of them? Have any to add? I’d love to make this post a great go-to resource for expecting readers, so feel free to chime in in the comments!

Also, I’ve been working on an Amazon store and all the Amazon product affiliate links above go back to my store. You can find much more than my Newborn Essentials there, so give it a browse. Each product is one I’d feel confident recommending to anyone. I’ll add more to it as I have time. I should note if you purchase through those links, I get a tiny little percent.

Disclosure- Some of the products included in my Newborn Essentials list were sent to me for free to review. They truly earned their spot on this list, and I wasn’t paid to include anything.

Kendall is 2 years, 10 months and Leyna is 2 months old

Not. TRUE.

I was so blindsided by what followed Kendall’s birth that I feel like the days/weeks after I had him were far more traumatizing than the pain of delivering without an epidural. The Pitocin in the thigh, nearly passing out, the catheter, the blood, the stitches, the rash, the mastitis, the chunks of flesh falling off my bleeding nipples… NOBODY WARNED ME ABOUT THAT SHIT.

Now, looking back, and after experiencing things the 2nd time around, I have to think that maybe my experience was a little on the extreme side the 1st time (and I’m so sorry if I scared the living hell out of you). That said, it wasn’t all rosy and baby powder scented diapers of puppies and bunnies this time, either.

Each time I’ve pushed out a baby, my mind has rejoiced momentarily that the “pain is over.” And then, minutes later, I’m reminded it’s not. Sure the pain level has decreased, but it’s not over. First, there was the delivering of the enormous placenta I was carrying around that was, apparently, about the size of my baby.

Then, though I only had a small 1st degree tear this time, I still had to have stitches, meaning I had to endure several shots of local anesthetic to the part of my body I wish to not be touched for the next year. And then? That doesn’t completely numb the area, just dulls it slightly, leaving me still able to feel the sensation of the thread and needle weaving in and out of my delicate and already battered nether regions.

On the bright side, I didn’t bleed nearly as much after having Leyna as I did Kendall. There was no need for the shot of Pitocin to the thigh, and I didn’t pass out on my way to the toilet, either. I did, however, leave a lovely, murderous looking trail from the bed to the bathroom, which I nearly slipped on.

Oh, a side note, the poop I left in the toilet while in labor (have you read my birth story yet?), was still there after I had Leyna and I saw Scott silently slink over to the bathroom and flush it. I think it was really bothering him that it was still sitting there, in all it’s nasty germiness. What a gentleman.

I was really nervous about my first pee. I sat on the toilet, again in front of the whole room, and wished with all my might that I would pee. Y’all, that catheter I had to have after Kendall was the WORST part about childbirth last time. I was more afraid of that than pushing. And as the urine started to trickle out, I shouted from my throne to every soul in the room, “I’M PEEING!! YES!! I’M PEEING!” I was met by many congratulations and my nurse even made a call up to my recovery nurse to share the good news. I don’t think anyone was looking forward to the catheter possibility.

By the time I got to my room to recover, I was, honestly, feeling pretty good. In fact, Scott and I sat there and looked at each other like, “that was way too easy.”

And then… the cramps started.

Cramps as painful as the most painful menstrual cramps that once sent me to the ER and many times sent me home early from work. Maybe worse. Definitely worse than the cramps I experienced last time as I breastfed Kendall (they come when you’re breastfeeding because it makes your uterus contract… so I’m told).  Cramps so bad I hunched over and cried many times, all while trying to perfect my newborn’s latch.

The good news is I was was given a lovely cocktail of narcotics to dull the pain, which I dutifully took each time I was up for another dose. This girl may push babies out with no pain meds, but I sure as hell want them after I deliver.

We came home 24 hours after having Leyna, and I was all kinds of hormonal and crazy by then. As we pulled up to the house, I saw the neighbor kids running amok across our yard. I could see them peering into the Jeep. I KNEW they were going to pounce on us and ask to see the baby the minute we opened the doors.

“Your mission is to keep those punk-ass kids AWAY from me and AWAY from my baby. I’m not kidding, Scott. I’m going to kick them in the teeth. Do NOT let them near me. Do NOT let them talk to me, and so help me, DO NOT LET THEM TOUCH MY BABY.”

I think it took a good week for my hormones to level off.

In the meantime, just as I thought breastfeeding was going really well this time around (minus the standard nipple pain that comes from a Hoover attached to tender breasts for 20 out of 24 hours suddenly), Leyna suddenly decided to absolutely refuse to latch on my bitch-ass, giant, malformed left nipple. Tears fell from my eyes and landed on her sweet little head as I struggled for up to 30 minutes to just get her to latch. Just PLEASE LATCH. Oh God, I did NOT want to have latch issues. We battled for 48 hours and I’m happy to report I WON. I mean, the conditions do have to be just so. She has to be positioned just right. The boob can’t be too full or too empty. I have to squeeze it and start it for her. She doesn’t want to work for it at all, but I finally got her to latch and we’ve been good to go ever since.

The upside to all of this is my nipples look nothing like they did with Kendall this far out. No scabs. No blood. No chunks of flesh falling off. Okay, so she’s picky, but at least she’s kind. So breastfeeding is definitely a win this time around.

And then the rash returned. Oh yes, remember my lovely crotch rot? Just a few days out of the hospital and it erupted all over my butt, thighs and everything in between. AGAIN.

Confession- Like an IDIOT, I didn’t stock up on pads before I went into labor. I came home with the hospital pads, and they ran out sooner than I expected… in the middle of the night. What did I have left? Oh, only the ALWAYS PADS OF EVIL AND DOOM from my last postpartum experience that gave me contact dermatitis. But I didn’t think it would be that  big of a deal. I would only need to wear one for a few hours before we could get out to the store.

Flash forward to the end of the day, and I’ve got another raging, itching, burning, red, bumpy rash all over the parts I wish not to be touched. My name is Jill, and I’m a dumbass.

Or am I… because shortly after, after I quickly switched to Kotex pads, continuing for many, many days after that, I began to see this rash spread up my stomach, inside my stretch marks, and down my legs, behind my knees and even on my calves. Last time it didn’t spread, that I can remember. Contact dermatitis is just supposed to erupt where the skin actually comes in contact with the irritant. Those pads may have been big, but they certainly didn’t touch my knees.

I consulted Dr. Twitter and Dr. Google (since it was a weekend and I couldn’t consult my midwife until Monday), and the diagnosis ranged anywhere from PUPPPS to an allergy to my husband’s DNA in the placenta and amniotic fluid. <<< No, really. That was a for real issue.

I never found out what caused the rash this time around. My midwife called in a steroid pack for me that Monday after I delivered and it seemed to clear up about 95% of the rash within a few days. Next time, I’m just going to assume this is going to happen to me and be on the lookout.

It’s 2 weeks out now, and I *think* the worst has passed. All in all, it hasn’t been that bad this time around, at least when I compare it to recovery with Kendall. I was up walking around much faster this time, the weight seems to be coming off faster this time, breastfeeding is 80% less painful.

So doesn’t that give you all hope?! Hopefully, it at least doesn’t scare you nearly as much as my 1st Rest of The Story did.

Kendall is 2 1/3 and Leyna is 2 weeks.

It seems I’ve always been in this in-between classification of “mom”. On the one hand, I can come off pretty crunchy. I cloth diaper, have been known to wear my baby, made all his baby food and breastfed for 13 months. On the other hand, I Ferberized, can’t stand co-sleeping (for us, not judging others who can make it work), and lost all desire to practice extended breastfeeding by the time Kendall turned a year old because I just wanted/needed my body back.

And really, when it comes to breastfeeding I always seem to find myself in a weird spot, too. I believe in the good that comes from breastfeeding, and I believe this country short changes women by not supporting them enough (lack of maternity leave, formula samples showing up in your mailbox multiple times a month, a culture that looks upon breastfeeding as “gross” and something to hide). I believe we should be able to freely nurse in public without or with a cover (and I don’t think a woman who *chooses* to wear a cover should have to worry about what sort of political message she’s sending by CHOOSING to cover up for her own comfort) and not be met with the glares of strangers or security guards at Target telling us we have to leave. I wish every mom would really give breastfeeding some serious thought before deciding if it will work for her or not, and that she could have the education, resources and support going into it to help her be successful. That she would know that it is NOT EASY. Not for many, at least… certainly not at first. You are not failing if it’s hard or if it hurts.

And because of how I feel about breastfeeding, I did want to shout “Right on!” when I read parts of Gina’s post yesterday “When It Comes to Breastfeeding, We Can’t Handle The Truth”. She hit on so many of the things I feel strongly about, including this:

Is it easy to make this milk?  No, not always — but neither was bringing that baby into the world and your body did a fine job of that.  Think about that.  Think hard. Your body created an entire human being inside from nothing more than the joining of two single cells.  Your body is a miracle worker. So what leads you to believe that, after creating a whole person with organs and tissue and a beating heart, that your body would call it quits when it came time to feeding this thing?

I was really open about how hard and painful breastfeeding was for me in the beginning. Make no mistake, it was not fun. I cried and I cussed and I threw tubes of lanolin across the room nearly every time Kendall latched for the first 8 weeks. In an attempt to give my nipples and myself a break, I tried to pump. It was utterly (haha) depressing how little milk my enormously engorged boobs were able to produce after 30 minutes of pumping. And when the two back to back mastitis infections that followed seemed to come each time after I pumped, I ditched the damn thing for a while and figured the temporary pain of breastfeeding was better than a constant fight with mastitis.

But here’s the thing I always remind myself – Even though it was NOT easy for me, I had such a tremendous support system surrounding me. My #1 champion was my husband, and my mom was a close second. I recall calling Scott at work one sleep deprived night, screaming at him, bawling my eyes out (I just came down with my 2nd round of mastitis), telling him, “I’m done! I quit!” and eyeing the sample cans of formula that I’d received in the mail. He listened to me cry, to my frustrations, he soothed me and calmed me and validated me. And then he encouraged me. He praised me for all my hard work so far, and he talked me down from a cliff of desperation. I was SO LUCKY to have that support from him.

My inability to pump continued, and after I got a 3rd, yes THIRD, round of mastitis after pumping, and after fighting to the point of frustrated tears to get Kendall to take a bottle, which he absolutely refused, I realized that I would just have to exclusively nurse him from the breast. I would have to be there for every single feeding. There was no way around it. Honestly? I didn’t mind because after 8 weeks that’s when breastfeeding became wonderful for us… for me. That’s when I was SO GLAD I stuck it out. That’s also when I thanked my lucky stars I was able to stay home with him for the next year. I’ve always said that I if  had to go back to work after having Kendall, I’m really, really not so sure breastfeeding would have worked out for us for very long.

And I know it’s not all about luck, because as I’ve already stated, I had to work HARD for it. But, I didn’t go through every challenge a breastfeeding mom has ever faced. My son latched (even if like a wolverine) and he ate and ate and ate, and he gained weight. Boy, did he gain weight! And I never felt like I was failing at feeding him.

So, while part of me was really cheering Gina on for many of the points she was making, another part of me was thinking about my friend Mandy and her blog post “Let’s Just Feed Them, Shall We?”

I read Mandy’s story of how she really struggled with breastfeeding, how she really, really TRIED. And my heart broke for her when I read this:

MONTHS spent riddled with guilt every time i fed her a bottle. every time i saw another mother breastfeeding. i would hide the formula under things in my cart. feel awful when the checker would scan it. tell myself i was costing our family money because of my inability to make milk.

I champion for breastfeeding rights when I can. I’m proud of breastfeeding Kendall for 13 months, and I really feel like so many women in this country aren’t receiving the right amount of information and support when it comes to breastfeeding. But, at the same time, I know there ARE women who can’t make it work no matter how hard they try, for many valid reasons, and I really can’t fault them for choosing their own sanity over a long, hard battle that they still may not end up winning. I also respect that there are women who ARE educated on the benefits of breastfeeding and they still make the choice to formula feed, again, for many valid reasons.

I find it so hard to walk the line sometimes between supporting breastfeeding and possibly making formula feeding moms feel guilty. Catherine at Her Bad Mother wrote a great post called “Shame And The Mom: A Boob Story” in which she said something that resonates with me still:

But we should be careful, should we not, that when we fight the shaming of nursing mothers, we don’t, in the process, shame mothers who don’t nurse? How do we do that? How do we make this, always, about choice, without giving up ground in promoting the nursing choice…

I’ve been trying to answer that question for myself ever since.

I know that a large part of the breastfeeding issue is the lack of education to allow moms to make an informed choice about breastfeeding, but there are moms who are informed and who have tried and choose to not do it… for many valid reasons.

And while I’m frustrated with the companies getting in the way of the breastfeeding mom, the cultural beliefs that stifle the breastfeeding mom, and many other barricades that make it harder than it should be on the breastfeeding mom, I’m certainly not meaning to guilt the formula feeding mom.

Please know, I’m not at all trying to pit these two inspirational bloggers against each other by writing this, because I think they both come at this issue from different sides, with different reasons, and I think they do a DAMN good job at it. I think they make a difference and lend valuable voices to a discussion that is important. I am proud to call them friends and celebrate their points of view and personal experiences, and I hope they both still love and respect me for the fence-sitter I am.

Kendall is 23 months old.

The girls were at their peak of disparity by the time I fully weaned Kendall, looking very much like fried eggs and everything like I was afraid they would become. I was happy to see over the summer that they started to get a little mass back in them, a little more fluff. I was hopeful they would continue to….uh… puff back up as time went by, but I think it’s safe to say we’ve reached a stand still. They may not resemble fried eggs so much anymore, but they aren’t the fun bags they used to be either. They are smaller and… shiftier (?) than they were in their glory days. It’s kind of like they just exploded, got really fat, did a lot of yo yo dieting, and then had gastric bypass. The loose skin, the stretchmarks… it’s all very “Trash Can of Skin”-ish.

I saw a commercial today for a “Bra Makeover” at a nearby mall. I think I shall save up and seek out their assistance. Not a single bra of mine fits correctly, and by correctly I mean not a single bra I own works miracles and defies gravity. This commercial looked like it had some that might do just that… for a price.  It’s probably one of those places that will have no bras under $150, but that’s only a fraction of the price of a boob job, so that’s a steal, no? Not that I’m against boob jobs. I just don’t see the point until the baby factory is officially shut down for eternity.  And when that day comes, hopefully not too far in the future, I will get something done. Oh, yes, I will.

I am actually really quite interested in this procedure I heard about in a radio news program last week. I don’t know why it has taken plastic surgeons this long to perfect such a technique. Seems pretty obvious to me that this is a BRILLIANT solution, and had I gone to school to be a plastic surgeon this would have been my Capstone project, my thesis… or whatever. They take fat from your belly and/or thighs and… GET THIS… they fill your boobs up with it. Wham, BAM, thank you surgeon! You get a boob job and a flatter stomach all at the same time. It’s genius.

Really, the point of this post is the old gals ain’t what they used to be, I’m sorry to report. And even though I saw this coming two years ago, I’m still saddened by it. I’m still mourning their loss.

::pours a 40 out for my once awesome rack::

Kendall is 18 months and 3 days old (Oh, and at his 18 month appointment today, he showed off his awesome new trick – bashing his head against the wall super hard on purpose. Awesome. Scared the shit out of the nurse.)

As has been said by many a blogger before me more eloquently, all it does is divide us and pit us against each other at a time in our lives when what we really need the most is to rally, to get through this together, to sing each other’s praises, to drink wine together and say, “great job raising a kid who will probably not become a mass murderer.”

I’m not innocent. I get pangs of defensiveness every time I read someones opinion on how they could never just “sit around the house all day” and wouldn’t want to send the message to their kids that it’s okay to “waste” a college education by choosing not to work.  I’ve also had to stifle my own judgements from time to time on many issues that I feel personally passionate about (which I’m not going to get into for fear of negating the whole purpose of this post).

I’ve struggled from day one with my own decisions.  I am constantly questioning myself.  Am I doing what’s best? Is the grass really greener? Is this what’s right for us? And, through much self exploration, I’ve learned that it’s my own insecurities, my own inner doubt, that makes me defensive when something I choose for me and my family is not something that works for someone else.  I recognize that and move on and try to make a conscious effort to not let other’s life choices make me feel like less of a mom or even more of one, for that matter, because, really people, none of this shit matters 20, 30, 50 years from now.

Let’s stop with all the mommy war bullshit and focus. FOCUS. Our goal, no matter how we get there, is to raise a future society of fewer assholes.  Really, that’s what it boils down to.  I don’t care if you have a nanny, take your kid to daycare or stay at home as long as they don’t grow up to scam me out of my entire life savings in a Ponzi scheme.  I don’t care if they are formula fed or breastfed, as long as they, 60 years from now when I am nursing a broken hip, will hold the door open for me at the grocery store and offer to help me out to my car.  I don’t care if they went to public or private school or learned all they needed to know while discovering the great outdoors with no structured classroom curriculum, as long as they will be kind, generous, respectful people who not only are not murderers and/or rapists, but also do some good. I don’t care if you gave birth to them in a pool of mineral water, scented with lavendar while you orgasmed upon their exit, as long as they don’t set up a meth lab next door and kill my dogs when their house blows up.

Raising a productive member of society is a tall order. I am overwhelmed by the task nearly every day.  We’ve got plenty of battles ahead of us to be caught up fighting each other.  Now is the time when we need to be strategizing, having covert meetings, speaking in code, drawing maps in lemon juice.  Now is the time when we need to put on the same colors.  Now is the time when we all need to come to the same side of the line.

Kendall is 2 days shy of 14 months old

 It was not pretty. It was not enjoyable. I did not sit there, lovingly looking into my baby’s eyes while feeling a deeper connection with him and creating some sort of magical bond. I practiced deep breathing and counted down the seconds until he had his fill. Then I started to dread the next feeding, only two hours away.  In fact, sometimes I wonder if Kendall would have been less fussy if I was in less pain and willing to breastfeed more frequently. But, I NEEDED that two hour break to heal and recover.  

This isn’t painting a very good picture of breastfeeding, I know.  And, I know that all you breastfeeding enthusiasts out there are reading this thinking of what a bad image I’m sending and all the things that I was obviously doing wrong to justify the first 8 weeks of breastfeeding hell.  However, that was my honest reality.  It was terrible.

Now, with all that being said, can you believe that I actually stuck it out and made it over 1 year and 2 weeks exclusively breastfeeding?!  That’s right.  Not only did we survive the first two awful months, but we stuck it out and found our groove (and Kendall’s teeth found their groove in my numbed nipples).  My breasts turned into calloused bags of steel, and I was a regular old milk making machine. It is believed that I may have been a dairy cow in another life.

My best friend said to me not too long ago, “Can you believe you made it a year? I remember talking to you when you would say that there was no way in hell you were continuing much longer.” It brought to mind all those memories of the late nights, the pain, the cans of formula samples sitting in the kitchen, staring at me.  The temptation to just give up.  But, I didn’t.  With the amazing support of so many people, including some of you crazy bitches, I pushed through, and after 2 long months, it seemed to magically get better.  Much better. So I figured I had worked so hard to survive all that, I might as well stick with it for the long haul.

While it started out as one of the most challenging things I have ever done in my life, it became one of the most natural and rewarding.  Not only did it get easy, but it was free! And I didn’t have to wash bottles! And I could do it while sleeping! Heck, I could do it anywhere at anytime, which was perfect since my son has about as much patience as I do. I did start to experience the bonding that people talk about around the time Kendall was two months old, and it sure did help melt away that baby weight (cuz, let me tell you, the lack of exercise and excessive Dr. Pepper consumption should have turned me into Jabba the Hutt).

I was blessed that I had no supply issues.  If anything, I had TOO MUCH milk, as I would often squirt anyone and anything in my path and spent the first ten months rarely without a bra and nursing pads on. (For those not familiar with my Blockbuster leakage story, click here.) I was also very lucky that I could breastfeed on demand since I spent all day, every day with Kendall.  I’m not so sure I would have been as successful if those two factors were different, especially since I detest pumping.  In fact, I’ve sworn it off altogether because it always leads to a case of mastitis (something I’ve dealt with three times).

As we approached Kendall’s first birthday, I began to think about weaning.  I was teetering on the fence, thinking of trying to push for two years, but my body was tired… I was tired.  As shallow and selfish as this may sound, a weekend at the river with the girls for a bachelorette party in June was what tipped me over the edge.  That was it.  I had to be done by the time he was 13 months.

Now, I make this decision sound all simple and final, and of course, it wasn’t.  It was colored with guilt and many shades of gray.  Maybe I could just keep up nursing at night? Maybe I could pump while I’m at the river? What if this is traumatizing for him?  He’s such a boob-aholic! I’m being selfish.. or am I? No.  You’ve done what you set out to do.  You’re done.  It’s okay to be done.  But is he done?

After many internal conversations, and a very sloooooow weaning process that started at 11 months, we are officially weaned. I began by introducing whole cow’s milk in the sippy once a day, gradually dropped daytime sessions by the time he was one, dropped morning sessions the week after, and quit night time nursing the beginning of this week.  Throughout it all, I stuck with the “don’t offer, but don’t refuse” method and it worked wonderfully.  Surprisingly, my big guy, who I thought would just fall apart without nursing before each nap and going to sleep at night, was just as content to rock for a few minutes in the chair while cuddling a soft new bamboo blanket his grandpa got him for his birthday.  As with many things on this crazy parenthood path, it seemed to be much harder on me than it was on him.

Toward the end, I found myself thinking, “Wow. You have become that mother.  That mother that will be sad when this is done.  How did this happen?  You are such a sucker.  It’s just a boob.  It’s just food.  He’s still your baby.  He still loves you.”  Of course, deep down, I know it’s more than food from a boob.  It was an awful, wonderful thing we survived and experienced.  It was a moment in time, and I’ll never get it back. But, the guilt is slowly fading, although, I wish I could say the same for the size of my engorged breasts.  While not super painful, it is a tad irritating and a little too pornstar-esque for my liking, but I’m assured they will start to deflate into the glorious fried eggs they should be in no time.

So there you have it, my tribute to breastfeeding.  Painful, uncomfortable, hard, turned beautiful, natural, easy, perfect breastfeeding. Cheers.

*Note- for a deeper look at my battle with breastfeeding, be sure to check out all the hyperlinks I’ve included.

Kendall is 1 year, 3 weeks and 1 day old