Life after fenugreek

It's hard to say how my supply is doing. Kai isn't nursing so much during the day now that he's older, so he does most of his breastfeeding overnight. These past few days, he's been waking up and completely draining each breast* without falling asleep, which means I am not getting a full, uninterrupted nights sleep. I have thus begun to describe myself using a mash-up word I saw on FB the other day: irritired. I am extremely irritired lately.

Still, I don't know that the milkathons are because he's not getting enough milk. He's also not had a decent bowel movement in a few days. Some small, dryish poos, but nothing substantial. So he could just be constipated. (He's recently upped his solid food intake considerably, so a little constipation is to be expected.) We've loaded him with prune juice, so we'll see if that helps. If not, I'll go get some coconut water or something to see if I can't kickstart the boob juice without fenugreek. Or maybe power pumping would help. I hope it doesn't come to that, though...I hate pumping.

Anyway. On the topic of breastfeeding, I saw this great article about extended BFing. (Short answer: No. But read the article...it's fascinating.) Now I am more determined to keep nursing Kai, until he's ready to quit. The comfort and security it brings is worth all the pain and inconvenience in the world.

Just forgive me if I'm a bit irritired from time to time. I'm growing a boy here.

*By "drained," I mean he's nursed until the flow slows down, at which point he starts "milking" the nipple with his gums to try stimulating the flow. It bloody hurts, and is impossible to sleep through. It's usually my cue to switch him to the other breast. He used to fall asleep after draining both breasts, but not this week. This week he has just kept milking both breasts until I take them away, at which point he decides it's play time and smacks his sister in the head.

Looks like it's the fenugreek

I took fenugreek for the first time in a week Sunday night, and woke up Monday with a mild case of hives. So I am going to take another break from it and see if they go away. If so, I will have some fenugreek capsules and mother's milk tea to give away in addition to the brewer's yeast.

Yes, I'm getting rid of the brewer's yeast. My body cannot deal with that stuff. And as I've proven in the past week, I can finally muster up enough milk to feed Kai without it -- probably because he's eating more solids. Which means there is no point putting myself through all the side effects.

It just figures with the fenugreek, though. I have 4-5 unopened boxes of mother's milk tea and two unopened bottles of fenugreek capsules, plus an open package of each. And the only jar I could find of the brewer's yeast is HUGE. Some mama is about to hit the galactagogue motherlode.

I'm relieved, though, that the trigger wasn't any of the suspect foods. Dairy, wheat, eggs...any one of those would seriously affect my diet. And chocolate? Sure, I could live without it, but what's the point of dessert if it's not chocolate?

I suppose that if I had to be allergic to something, fenugreek is the least painful choice. I'm just glad I didn't develop this allergy until Kai was firmly on solid food. Makes my job a lot easier!

Itchy scratchy

My allergist decided against testing for food allergies right now. Which I'm fine with; I wasn't really looking forward to that, and I'm not sure what they could give me if they triggered an allergic reaction during testing.

By the same token, though, I still don't know what caused my reaction last Friday, so I am still afraid to eat.

I'm also itchy. The rash has abated considerably, and applications of Vanicream and hydrocortisone cream are keeping the itching in check, but it's not gone. I'm taking Benadryl when it gets unbearable; so far I have not noticed any ill effects on my supply, but Kai seems to be kind of spacey after I take it, so I'm not taking any more than I have to.

I'll be checking back in with my allergist Friday, and treatment will proceed from there. I can say I am extra motivated to resume shots now; it's kind of a pain to have to drive out there every week, but being sick is more of a pain.

In the meantime, I'm concentrating on cleaning my house and (slowly, carefully) testing the suspect foods to see if I react again.

Maybe I AM my breasts

Before I got pregnant with Anya, I wasn't even sure I was going to breastfeed. My nipples have always been problematic; if I wear the wrong bra, they bleed. Was I really going to try to feed a baby with them? What if she made them bleed? My baby would be drinking blood. While I have always enjoyed vampire stories, I didn't relish the thought of raising one.

Then hormones happened. One evening in my third trimester, I suddenly began daydreaming about breastfeeding my baby. The thought came out of nowhere, and would not let up. The mere thought of nursing my newborn filled me with warmth and happiness. Instinct really is amazing. (Let it be known that I was also pretty jazzed about changing poopy diapers. That one passed quickly.)

My poor body, though, just didn't have enough mojo to make milk after Anya was born. She took to nursing beautifully, and I cherished that time with her, but within a week it was clear that my milk was not coming in. (Well, it wasn't clear at the time. Having successfully breastfed, I can now tell you that I never produced more than trace amounts of milk for Anya.)

I was devastated. Not because I thought formula was so bad (though it is certainly not the "easy" route), but because I wanted so desperately to nurse my daughter. It made her so happy. It was easy. It was natural. And it just wasn't happening. Fenugreek, blessed thistle, Reglan (twice), power pumping...nothing helped. 

I fought. I mourned. I moved on.

When I got pregnant again, I was determined to do everything I could to ensure I could breastfeed my son. Before I got pregnant, I put on weight to bump my BMI up to 18 (mostly to help prevent miscarriages, but it also helped me breastfeed). Throughout my pregnancy, I read up on breastfeeding -- anything I could get my hands on, which was frustratingly little. The whole time I was in the hospital, I pestered the nurses to check to make sure that I had milk and that he was getting enough of it. 

Three days after Kai joined us in the world, the Milk Fairy came. I did not have nursing bras or pajamas that would contain those things. (Thankfully, they deflated a bit after a few days.)

"Ah," I thought. "This is how it's supposed to go." 

While I have fought with a precarious supply (Kai came close to being labeled Failure to Thrive during his early checkups, and even now is a bit on the slim side for his age and height), and am currently dealing with teething and distraction during our nursing sessions, for the most part nursing has been a breeze. We all get plenty of sleep. Don't have to mess with bottles, bottle warmers, formula containers, or pacifiers. And I feel he and I have such a connection because of our nursing relationship -- even more than I have with his sister.  

But my experience with breastfeeding is about more than just feeding my baby. I have learned so much about sexism and body shaming and the strange myths that persist about sex and parenthood and sin. I have learned how shamefully little many medical professionals and the public at large know about this most basic bodily function. I have been on the receiving end of snide comments and leers, while showing less skin than I do in a bathing suit. 

But I have also been supported by total strangers, both in person and online. Through Facebook and Instagram, I have discovered a whole community of women bound together by our determination to normalize breastfeeding. And I have become infinitely more comfortable in my own skin. I, who just a few short years ago was ashamed if my bra strap was showing, am now an avid public breastfeeder -- and no, I don't use a cover or a baby carrier, or wear a bunch of shirts. You'll see more cleavage on the front of any Victoria's Secret store. At least my boobs are out for a good reason.

I can't really give a comprehensive list of places I have breastfed, because I do it without a second thought now. But here's a short list:

• Doctor's waiting rooms
• Restaurants (Chili's, Newks, Subway, Longhorn, Red Robin, Milano's, Sonic, Cracker Barrel)
• Stores (Kohl's, Target, Walmart, Kroger, Whole Foods, Walgreen's, Lenscrafters)
• Several parks and playgrounds
• Front yards (mine, my parents', my in-law's)
• Fairs (Delta Fair, Munford Celebrate, July 4th fireworks)
• Social gatherings (a birthday party, a company Christmas party, a funeral)
• Assorted parking lots, including a particularly seedy gas station and a church I do not attend (during services)
• Various tweet-worthy feeds (an earthquake, a lunar eclipse)

Pretty much anywhere I've gone with my baby, I've fed him. At first, I was shy and awkward about it. Even now I get a pang sometimes, like when I nursed him while sitting in a chair in front of the mall-facing windows of Lenscrafters on one of the busiest days of the year. But ultimately, I'm more concerned with feeding my child than drawing the attention of strangers. 

Which is how it should be.

I had some breastfeeding photos taken recently, to commemorate this time in my life. I have no intention of stopping until he is ready, but I also have no idea when that will be, so I feel the need to capture the moments while I can. Of the final shots, this one is my favorite, even though he's not actually breastfeeding in it. I feel like it really captures our personalities and our bond.

Photo by the lovely Cassie Fox, www.whitedoewoman.com.

I knew that breastfeeding my son would alter the childcare experience, but I didn't expect it to change me as a person. It has, though. It's changed how I see other women, other mothers. Changed how I think about my own body. I never realized how much my perceptions were filtered through the sexualization of the female body until I stopped thinking of my breasts as sexual objects. One simple change has sent ripples through my entire world view, like waves of dominoes. I could not possibly cover all of the implications in a single blog post.

Having my daughter has taught me about being a mother, but nursing my son has taught me about being a woman. 

Edit: I just saw this video on FB, and absolutely love it. And Alyssa Milano. "I'd whip 'em out right here." THIS.

One size does not fit all

Contrary to the heading above, this is not about clothing. See, I told you I suck at titles.

No, this is about advice. I have tried to steer clear of railing at the advice heaped upon me (and every other parent alive) through various outlets because it's been done to death. I'm in the throes of it, and I bore myself mid-rant.

However, I would like to make a small exception for brewer's yeast.

I've mentioned my supply issues. (Yes, Lactation Hotline Lady, I have supply issues. Really. Relaxing and drinking more water and pumping on a schedule are not magic bullets.) I was trucking along pretty good on my OMG Oatmeal diet, though, until the Great Stomach Plague hit. I've recovered physically, and don't appear as...deflated, but I'm still not up to where I was. I'm pretty much doing all I can, food and supplement wise, to increase my supply; the only thing I do not consume on a regular basis is brewer's yeast. So this weekend, I made lactation cookies.

Normally, I shun lactation cookies. Because they're cookies, and who needs that much sugar? But I just can't do brewer's yeast in juice or oatmeal; mixing it with massive amounts of sweetener is the only way I can stomach it. Cookies it is. Two dozen cookies.

I'm not sure I can eat them.

They taste okay. If you like beer in your oatmeal cookies, which I do not. But I am a big girl -- I can deal. They don't make me gag like brewer's yeast in juice, at any rate.

But the side effects. Oh, my. Migraines and diarrhea and gas and nausea. It's a hangover. I feel like I drank the beer itself. With very little excess milk to show for my pain.

That's just not fair. I should at least be milked up.

Much as I hate to waste food, I am seriously considering chucking those cookies. I just don't think I can face feeling hungover for the next 2 to 4 weeks.

And I'm going to start taking these "universal truths" with a grain of salt. What works for other people does not necessarily work for me.

Rebuilding my supply

My milk supply really took a hit while we were in IL. My normal galactagogue schedule looks like this:

• 5ish cups of Mother's Milk tea throughout the day
• Morning oatmeal (2 servings) with 1 T of flax seed meal and 1 T of nutritional yeast
• Cheerios or oat bread for lunch
• Almonds for snacks
• 5 fenugreek capsules at breakfast, lunch, and bedtime
• 2 T brewer's yeast if needed

Our local store was out of fenugreek before we left, so while I was gone, my routine dwindled to

• 3ish cups of Mother's Milk tea throughout the day
• Morning oatmeal (1-1.5 servings) with sliced almonds on top

I came home making dribbles where I used to make spurts. I have never had an oversupply, but I can (with help) make enough to fill Kai's belly. After a few nights of nonstop nursing, though, I realized I needed to step up my game. So brewer's yeast is back on the menu for a while.

Man, I hate this stuff. Tastes godawful, and gives me a hangover to boot. (All of the headache, queasiness, and gas of drinking beer, without the buzz! What's not to love?) I see now why women put it in sugary cookies. But I am slowly (slowly) losing weight, and don't want to mess that up by adding insanely caloric cookies to my daily ritual.

So I will deal. And hope that my boobs get back to normal soon.

I have a GP again!

I am so glad I went to the doctor for this. I used to go to this same doctor years ago, but stopped because he was no longer convenient to where I lived. I think now I will drive however long it takes to keep going back to this guy. He's nice. His whole staff is nice. And unlike so many medical professionals I've seen in recent years, I feel like he really heard me.

I told him what I'd been through up to that point, and he whipped out his phone. ("My surrogate brain," he said. Ah...a kindred spirit.) We talked through the options, and he told me which one he felt was best based on Kai's age and our circumstances. Unlike the other recommendations I got, I feel good about this one.

And the words "neti pot" were not uttered once. I like this man.

He is extremely supportive of my breastfeeding. He told me he believes breastfed babies are much healthier, so he is going to do everything in his power to help me continue. I have no intention of stopping anytime soon, so I need that kind of doctor. I can't say I am too impressed by the lactation consultants I've dealt with; the one on the hotline didn't seem to know what I was talking about when I told her what I was prescribed (bit of a red flag there), and the one from the hospital never called me back. (The hospital LCs are notoriously hard to get in touch with; aside from the time I was actually in the hospital, I've only managed to speak with one on one occasion.) I much prefer having a doctor that takes into account all of my needs. Some of us don't make enough milk for a freezer stash.

Best of all, I think we all had a positive experience during my doctor visit. Which is good, because we may need a doctor closer to home for the kids. (Right now we drive them to a pediatrician an hour away.) And R may need a doctor at some point. We've been minor med patients thus far, but it'd be nice to have a GP.

I hope we all get well soon. October is my favorite month; I don't want to miss it!

The darkness before dawn

Last night, I went to bed early -- early for me early. So it was no real surprise when my eyes popped open long before dawn.

As is my nature, as I woke fully, I began to fret. When I went to the doctor for my sinus infection, I explained that I am breastfeeding and have some supply issues. She took extra care in prescribing medications as a result. And I felt good about those medications until I got home and Googled them. The antibiotic, while basically considered safe, is of the group which the nurse at my OB/GYN's office told me not to take. The decongestant can kill my supply -- and it's the 24-hour variety, so it's not like I can take one pill and stop if things look iffy. Nobody can quite agree on the nasal spray.

I still hadn't heard from the hospital lactation consultant I called, so I decided to wait and ask her. But she didn't call until the end of her work day, and I missed her call. She is going to call again today. In the meantime, I tossed my questions out to the lovely people in my local breastfeeding group on FB. Answers were still mixed, but one woman suggested I call the Tennessee Breastfeeding hotline. It's 24/7; why wait?

The woman I spoke to was very nice, but she scared the crap out of me. The antibiotic, she says, can stain Kai's teeth. She was less concerned about my milk supply drying up (Compression! Water! Relax!), but the medication was worrisome. She suggested some alternates I can ask the pharmacist about, but really I should just drink my own breast milk and get a neti pot.

I have a neti pot story, but I won't get into that now.

I did, however, pump and drink 3 ounces of breast milk. I still feel like crap. But just to be on the safe side, I pumped 3 more ounces this morning and gave it to Anya. And took some brewer's yeast with the lactation oatmeal concoction I eat for breakfast, so I can pump again later and drink some myself.

I never did pick up my meds. I don't know if I should take them, or the substitutes the LC suggested, or just suffer and hope the infection clears up on its own. My choice can literally affect the rest of Kai's life, and I am paralyzed by indecision.

This is the mindset I am in when Anya awakens from a nightmare.

Lately, Anya and I have been having bad dreams. Mine are...my god, I don't even know where to begin. Odd. Mine are odd. I understand the basis behind most of them, but I still wake up going "What the...?" Anya's are simpler. Hers are about loss and abandonment. She dreams often of her grandmother dying. ("Mimi went to sleep and wouldn't wake up," she says.) She also dreams that I go to work and never return. (Who needs to lift weights when you have guilt like this?) Last night was a Mimi dream.

"You have a bad dream too, Mama?" a little voice asked in the darkness. This is how I learn I am not the only one awake.

"No, baby. Did you?"

"Yeah."

I pulled her close and kissed her hair. I told her I am sorry she had a bad dream. That Mimi is just fine, and we will see her at lunch. I told her how lucky I am to have such a sweet little girl, who loves so fiercely and worries about the health and happiness of the people in her life. She snuggled against me and smiled that sweet little smile I first saw the day she was born, as I cuddled her close to my breast.

"I love you so much, baby," I told her.

She sighed. "Me, too, Mommy. I love you, too."

Eventually, her breathing slowed. She was asleep once more.

I never did get back to sleep. Instead, I spent the pre-dawn hours nestled between my children, their little heads nuzzling me as they slept.

Not at all sorry I missed sleep for that.

I am not my nipples

Well, actually, right now I kinda am. My life revolves around them: How accessible they are, if there is anything coming out of them, if there is presently a baby attached to one of them. I eat oats not just for breakfast, but several times a day. I drink gallons of lactation tea, take fenugreek and prenatal vitamins. I don't take any other medications, either because they would interfere with my tenuous lactation or because they could be transmitted through the milk to my child. (I do not consume so much as an Altoid for fear of rocking the milk production boat.) I wear only v necks, tank tops/camis, and shirts that button or zip; crew necks are for another year. My bras all have escape hatches; I spent close to $100 on each of them, because I am a weird size even among the lactating. I rarely leave home without my child, and only go on short outings even when he is with me, making sure I plan for breastfeeding stops and drink refills. I don't go anywhere I can't breastfeed.

To my son, the universe is not heliocentric, but areolacentric. And thus my life has become focused on my nipples.

I'm wanting to move this blog over to WordPress, but the current name is taken there. I'm kind of tired of it anyway, so I don't mind the renaming; I just don't know what to rename it. I want something that reflects me. Not just my status as a mom, but who I am overall. Problem is, I don't quite know how to sum that up. Especially now, when I feel like I am hardly more than a walking nipple.

Hello, growth spurt

I have been working on several projects, big and small, since my last post -- but mostly I have been breastfeeding. My stormy boy is going through one heck of a growth spurt. The other day, I nursed him every half hour for 24 hours straight. I started taking fenugreek just to keep up.

I'm nursing right now, in fact. Even though he just ate 20 minutes ago.

The human body is amazing. I can nurse him for hours, then pump til I am dry; all it takes to start the flow anew is one squawk from him. I was at the dentist yesterday, and the hygienist asked what my kids' names were. I told her, and bam! -- instant pins-and-needles boobs. Just saying their names.

I love breastfeeding, though. No bottles to lug around; no bottle warmer to fumble with at 4 a.m. Even pumping isn't so bad now that I have the right gear: an electric pump (thanks, Obama!), steam bags, milk storage bags, and a spare set of pump parts. All I need to keep things rolling once I start work again is a pumping bra; working from home means I can multitask, and multitask I shall.

All this milk production seriously wears on you -- that's what people fail to mention. I've been sleeping crazy long hours as a result. But I think dehydration might be a factor. I put a glass of water at my bedside last night, which I drank immediately upon waking today. Today was the first day all week I did not nap, so perhaps I am on to something here. I hope so; in a few weeks, there will be no more naps.

Man, I do not want to go back to work. Not yet. I am enjoying this time with my kids too much. Oh, well.

Anyway, now that I am getting a handle on the little man's appetite, there will be more posts in the days to come.