An abundance of liquid gold.

Warning - this blog post will be about my breasts and the adventures of my "milk machines".

I am one of the lucky ones. I've never had a problem with milk supply, and my baby has been a great latcher and feeder. I am not trying to gloat, I'm not trying to show off. It is just a fact. I am lucky.

My body started producing colostrum from about 6 1/2 months into my pregnancy, which was a huge shock (imagine seeing a golden yellow fluid seep from your nipples in the shower, wtf!), but this is normal for some, apparently so for me!

My milk came in while I was in the hospital (although i had a longer stay - 5 days). My baby was jaundiced so was in the humidy crib for 2days. During that time they want you to feed every 2 hours and top up with a bottle of expressed milk, at least 20mls. The midwife asked me if I knew how to express manually, I said no, so she offered to show me. She had a little syringe ready to suck up any little drops to milk to give to my baby, and much to her surprise a stream of milk came out (much like milking a cow). She then went and got one of the electronic pumps and said to go for my life. I expresses 60mls then and there. Yep, I was a good supplier.

Ever since that first week I've been fine with supply. The only problems I've had with baby latching, was if my breasts were too full, and I've have to express some first so that she could latch. I think my supply has made her a lazy feeder, as she barely has to look at me and my milk will come shooting out. So much so, that at one of my mothers group meetings, in a cafe, I almost shot one of the other mums with the force of my milk after bub a had unattached herself. If there had been anyone at the table behind us, they would have had some extra milk with their coffee (no word of a lie!).

I don't have the experience of hearing a baby cry and feeling my milk come in, unlike many other mothers. Even my own baby crying doesn't do that for me. But once she gives my nipple one or two good sucks, it come with an almighty gush!

Also a hot shower will make my milk come in. I remember showering and talking to my husband who was holding our baby (the beginning of the end - never again showering on my own) and the look of surprise on his face as I started spontaneously squirting the shower screen with a steady flow of milk. I couldn't help but giggle at how ridiculous it was! I must admit, because of this type of flow, I have done the milk equivalent of "writing your name in the sand" across the shower screen, couldn't help myself, and I kinda get why boys attempt to pee their names.

Needless to say, when my poor husband and I have some "us time" the bra stays on and the "girls" are left alone - by his choice.

I feel so bad for mothers that can't breast feed, either due to no milk supply, or a baby that can't latch. I can't even begin to comprehend the pure frustration when the milk letdown doesn't happen. I understand why bottle feeding is an option, or sometimes the only option. So although I'm a huge advocate for breast feeding, I will never make a mother feel bad for not doing so. It works for me, in fact it was easy from the start, so I never had to struggle with that decision.

Boobie power (and may the milk fairies be kind).

Cry like a baby

I am an overindulgent mother.

I don't like to hear my child cry.

If she cries, I go to her and "make it better".

Mind you, she is all of 5 months old. I'm of the belief that at this age she is crying for a reason, and that it's my job to figure out what that reason is and to make it better for her. I'm sure this viewpoint will change, I'm sure very soon I'll be sick of it all and just let her cry it out, but right now I'm happy being "that mother" that "spoils" her child.

Except that I don't think that it is spoiling her. How can removing negativities from her her little life be spoiling? Surely at the ripe old age of 5 months old, she's not yet learnt to manipulate in such a way. Surely she is crying out of a basic need or want - I'm hungry, I'm tired, my nappy needs changing, I'm bored.

There are times that she will cry and I will make her wait, if I'm in the middle of cooking, load of washing etc and I can see that she's fine. But I talk to her, reassure her that mummy is here, I won't be long. Surely if she receives the positive message that "someone is there for me when I need them" it will make for a well adjusted child?

However, this is not to say that letting a child cry at times isn't valuable too. Sometimes a child will reach the point of no return in their crying, and it just has to run its course. A prime example of this is the "cry it out" method of getting children to self settle to sleep, but I just think that for me and my baby, 5 months is too young to start this.

So yes, I am an overindulgent mother, and proud of it!

So you're in the hospital . . . *warning*

This will be graphic. I recommend not reading this if you are pregnant as it may scare you.

My labour was LONG! Officially on paper, it was only 19 hours, but I was contracting heavily from the moment my waters broke, about 36 hours before bubba was born.

Let me start by saying that I had wanted a natural labour, with no drugs - maybe gas only. I wanted my baby to be placed on my chest as soon as she was born and for her cord to stay intact with the placenta until it had stopped pulsing. None of these things happened.

I was at home, resting my heavily pregnant and swollen body, when I felt a little trickle and some dampness "down there". I sure as heck had not peed myself, but didn't think it could really be my waters breaking as I'd been told throughout my pregnancy that I had excess amniotic fluid. So I called the hospital as I'd been advised to, and they said to go in to check.

Off we went to the hospital where my waters broke. It was like a river breaking it's banks! I gushed and gushed and gushed so much that the bed they had me lying on was soaked to the point of dripping onto the floor. I was mortified, but at the same time glad. We had just bought a new bed and mattress, and the towel I had been sleeping on at home "just in case" would have done nothing to save our comfortable new bed!
Now let me tell you that your "waters" are nothing like water at all. It is a slimy, thickish consistency and not at all pleasant! Anyway...

I was sent home after flooding the place, and told to come in at 6.45am the next morning for an induction if nothing started happening ( mind you I had been having contractions 3 minutes apart and lasting 1 minute at this stage). So we went home, told hubby to get some sleep, while I did some laundry and had a stinking hot shower.

Fast forward about 3-4 hours and we were back at the hospital as my contractions were pretty painful at this stage, it was about 4am. We were admitted and taken to a birthing suite where they told me to get comfortable and rest, Ha! You try resting when your lower back and abdomen spasms every 3 minutes!

Luke warm showers (the water does not get hot at the hospital - had I known this I would have stayed home and in our shower for longer) on my hands and knees, or leant over a chair worked for a while, but I started to get scared that I wouldn't be able to take the pain and that I was only 1cm dilated. Thankfully I was more like 3-4cm at that stage. This is when I asked for some gas. It tasted disgusting, made me light headed and feeling drunk, but it did the trick for a while. Just breathe deeply when you feel a contraction coming and it all goes away... That's what they said anyway.

After a while I then laboured next to the bed, cushions under my knees and chest on the bed, buck naked this whole time with midwives and doctors coming and going. When people tell you that you leave your dignity at the door when you give birth, they sure as hell aren't wrong!

Enter midwife number 2 (sorta) who said to me "you can take this pain, look at all your tattoos, you should be fine". She didn't come back in after that, whether I said something or gave her a look I don't know, but I had no patience for her!

The next midwife (proper number 2as the previous one lasted 5 minutes) was better, she helped move me into better positions, and assured me that my baby would be born on her shift due to how well I was progressing. At this point I was given the Pethadine shot as well as the gas.

Her shift ended and enter the next midwife ( who was my favorite during labour). She was also convinced that my baby would be born during her shift as I was progressing so well (I was about 6-7cm at this stage).

And then the progression slowed down. In fact it stopped. Baby's heartbeat was fine, but there was no more movement in the "down and out" direction. They called a doctor in, who much to my dismay, thrust her entire hand into my vagina to feel my cervix and my baby's progression. Have you ever seen a vet show where the veterinarian puts their hand up into the cows bits to pull out the calf? That's how I felt. And bless her, she's trying to tell me what's she's doing, and I'm doing all I can to not tell her to shut up and get her damn hand out of me during my contractions!
During this stage I finally asked for an epidural. I had been labouring with intense contractions for well over 20 hours and needed sleep.

The anesthetist arrived and told me to sit up and hunch over so that he could administer the needle. Apparently I told him that it was impossible, could he not see the size of my belly? Lol, I don't recall that at all!

Blah, blah, blah, epidural in and bring on about 2 hours of sleep. At this point the doctor returns, again puts her entire hand inside me (that shouldn't even be possible!) and tells me that if I don't progress further within the hour I'll have to have a Caesarian. My heart dropped. All this work only to be told that. I yelled out that I didn't want a Caesarian and she gave me more time to progress.

During this my 4th midwife had arrived and was very supportive. She helped me relax (somewhat) and told me that i could do this. I fell asleep for a while and woke as the epidural was wearing off. The midwife told me that I could continue to allow it to wear off to feel when to push, or I could dose up. I decided to let it ware off a little. But that bastard of a thing didn't ware off, it straight up cut out. There I was, no pain then BAM! more pain than you could imagine. I pushed and pushed and pushed for dear life. I pushed so much I was vomiting, I was determined to push this baby out. But after pushing for what seemed like hours, the midwife called the dr in again, my baby was stuck.

Thankfully I had pushed her to the point where a Caesarian was no longer possible, but I still had to go to theatre to pull her out. The readministered the epidural (thank god!) and wheeled me away.

The rest is kinda blurry, they put a screen up so that I couldn't see below my chest, they put my legs in stirrups, and they used the ventouse to try to suck my baby out. It didn't work, instead it lifted some of the skin from my poor baby's head. So they then used the forceps, which caused scrapes on her temple and under her ear, but got her out! I remember seeing them lift my purple baby away from me and onto the crib with a group of doctors and nurses around her. I remember calling out "why isn't she crying?" and then seeing these little hands stretch upwards from the crib. It took a whole 2 minutes for her to cry.

I don't remember birthing the placenta, I don't really remember them stitching me up, I remember them holding a tightly wrapped baby to me, and then being wheeled away to recovery. I remember trying to stay awake in recovery so that I could see my baby, but it was about 2hours before I did. Luckily my husband got to have that bonding time with our healthy baby.

My labour was traumatic for me, I still, almost 5 months later, have nightmares about it.

But I wouldn't change a thing.

Regrets so far

In my child's tiny life (all 4 1/2 months of it) I'm sure I've made plenty of mistakes. Some I've realised straight away, and some I'll look back on in 5,10,15 years and wonder how my child survived.

I am a cloth nappy using, breast feeding, co-sleeping, amber teething necklace wearing, boogie picking, finger licking then face wiping, vaccinating, attachment mother. (and I'd like to think I'm a MILF too)

She plays on a mat on the floor that does not get disinfected after every use.

She showers with me everyday, and sometimes swallows some of the unsterile shower water during her squeals of delight.

Her toys don't get sterilized after every play time, or at all, just thrown in the washing machine if they get too grubby.

And I certainly don't disinfect my hands all day (I don't carry hand sanitizer or have any in my house - I believe in good old soap and water).

In my child's short life she's had one cold - which turned out to be teething and not a cold at all.

She's had one small stomach bug that lasted less than 12 hours.

So although she may not live in the most sterile environment, she's a healthy little bugger and I don't regret my decisions so far!

Don't regret the things that you've done for your child, when you do them with your child's best interest at heart. We can only do so much.

:)

Breast feeding in public

So, I breast feed in public.

I don't cover up, but I also don't flaunt my now D cup breasts either.

I've had ladies tell me that if there isn't a "parents room" around, that they will go into a toilet stall, put the lid down and feed there baby in there.

I could never, EVER do that. I have, what I call, an orgasmic eater. When my baby is being fed she is very agreeable. She sighs, she grunts and even make an "ah-huh" sound while feeding. If I locked myself in a toilet stall to feed her, people would wonder what on earth is going on, and would assume it was two consenting adults! I'd rather save myself, and others, from that embarrassment.

On not covering up - my baby is also nosey. If I even try to cover her head she fights an almighty fight to get that cover off. It brings more attention trying to use it than it would without it.

I've been fortunate enough to not have been asked to cover up or go elsewhere. I can assure you though, that if I was, I would have some pretty feisty words to reply with.

I don't care if you breast feed or bottle feed. I care that we should be able to feed our babies when they are hungry.