Lance says I stopped listening after I had Beckham.
He said I agree with everything as if I am listening...
But I'm not.
He told me there was a dead body in the road, just to test his theory.
He says I shook my head in agreement,
although I never heard him.
Calm, happy, not anxious or depressed.
But so tired.
I got 2 naps yesterday.
Lance cleaned while I napped.
I'm not the type of person who can sit while others work.
But yesterday, I sat.
Actually Lance has done all of the house work these last few weeks.
I supplemented Beckham last night with formula.
To be honest, I had to give him an ounce or so of formula the last 3 nights, and it kills me to admit that.
(not that formula is a bad thing... it is just not part of my plan. Our family plan.)
I heard Lance say, "there you go Buddy, that's the good stuff."
I know he was just making small talk with Beckham, but it hurt me to my core.
I secretly slipped away to the bathroom to sulk.
(or maybe I wailed)
Lance caught me and reassured me that I was doing a good job.
He's my biggest supporter, he knows the benefits to breastfeeding,
and truly didn't mean to hurt my feelings.
But I felt like such a failure.
Breastfeeding is kind of my niche.
I'm your go-to-girl in this area.
Seriously, I love it.
I love to educate myself about it...
I love to help others who are having a hard time with it.
But this time it is me.
He has plenty of milk throughout the day...
but recently he wants to nurse 3-4 hours straight at night, starting at like 7 or 8 pm.
By that final hour, I am out of milk but he is still rooting and grunting and fussing like he's starving.
Finally I give in.
And go to a bottle.
Most women are doing this on their own by now.
Its rare to get a full month off as a man.
God bless those women who don't have help.
God bless those women who's husband's don't do what mine does for me...
not just around the house, or with Maddox, but by supporting me when hormones (or lack of sleep) have done me in.
Speaking of Maddox.
He's doing worlds better.
Nope, we are no where near there...
Still killing for that attention.
But he's better.
He can't stop throwing crap into the air.
Not at Beckham... but near him.
Which makes me crazy.
(more crazy than I care to admit)
He loves his baby brother...
He kisses him (so much that there's almost always residue in B's hair from Maddox's mouth), and loves to hold him...
But he still is starving for some spotlight.
I was put back on blood pressure medication last week at my appointment.
She started me on Labetalol 100mg twice a day. (a low dose.)
But I am still having headaches every day and its still not down to normal,
I'm not a betting girl, but if I were--
I bet this will be an adjustment process just like last time.
Also, last week, Beckham had his 2 week appointment (2 days before his 2 week mark.)
He was still under his birth weight.
We expect them to lose (especially breast fed babies)
but they should gain 1/2 oz -1 oz per day and be back to birth weight by 2 weeks.
He was still 3oz shy. (but still had 2 days to go)
Dr. Guthrie told me that I didn't have to supplement (yet)
but I needed to feed him 10-12 times a day and come next week for a weight check.
I was upset.
I headed off to my Mother's Day get away in Lake Murray, Oklahoma...
And went in with a plan.
I increased my fluid intake, I increased my calorie intake and I tried to rest.
Beckham is going through an obvious growth spurt because he is eating non-stop.
Last night he slept a 5 hour stretch...
I woke him up because I was in pain!!
I made us some homemade donuts...
and Maddox went a little crazy with our sprinkles!
(he loves to be the little chef!)
Afterwards, we headed into Fort Worth for my husband to pick up my 'pushing present'...
A Kori Green stamped necklace!!
And I love it!
(I am already throwing out ideas for my next charms!)
From there we went to the dreaded weight check.
I would be lieing if I didn't say that I was a nervous wreck.
I almost didn't even want to go in-- terrified she may say my body is not producing enough for him.
But I knew I had to.
I set myself up for the worst news...
And I was wrong!
My baby boy gained 10 ounces in 6 days!!!
Also today, I was given these cookies from our doctors for nurse's week!
A nice pat on the back...
and Maddox promised he would share with me! ;)
From there, Lance, Handy Manny and I (he wore that crayon like that all day today) met my mom at Braums for some icecream!
And then we finally made it home.
I sat down to nurse...
And began thinking about how blessed I am.
How happy I am to know that despite these deflated boobies-- they are doing their job and my baby is growing.
I am doing it.
Thankful that I "got in the good baby line" again, since Beckham is just not a fusser.
We thought Maddox was the easiest baby... and though he slept better-- Beckham is so quiet!
I was remembering how Dr. Deem told me that nurture trumps nature and wondering how true that was.
Could I really pat myself on the back for his demeanor?
I might try!
How blessed I am to be married to this man who cheers me on when I need it and believes in me. Always.
But incredibly joyful.
And then I saw this.
Quite the metaphor...
God is good.