Benjamin's first Thanksgiving has come and gone. The Christmas tree is up and decorated. Today I am officially off maternity leave and tomorrow I actually have to go into the office.

Wah!

Where did the time go?!

Benjamin was six weeks old on Thanksgiving day. He's growing so quickly! Nowadays he's all smiles and, occasionally, laughs. He has such a beautiful smile. It's wonderful to see.

One of his favorite things to do is to lie in his playpen and look at himself in the mirror. Same with his swing--he likes to gaze at himself in the mirrored surface that hangs above him there. He smiles and "talks" to the baby in the mirrors.

He's such a good baby. Rarely does he ever cry. In fact, the only time he actually cries is when he's eating and he's stopped to burp. If he's still hungry he gets completely offended at being stopped and lets out a wail, but otherwise he seldom voices any sounds of distress.

Last night he nearly slept through the night. I say nearly because had he slept in the place where he was put down (his bassinet), he'd have offically slept through, but because he woke up around 1:30 a.m. grousing until I put him in our bed I have to say that he nearly, but not quite, slept through. Beyond coming into my bed, though, he slept through until 5 a.m. He had a bottle at 10 p.m., was wrapped up and put into his bassinet around 10:30 p.m. and did not eat again until 5 a.m. I'm excited for him. And for me!

It's going to be so awful having to leave him tomorrow. I know, I might as well get used to it because come January I'll have to do it everyday, but still. . . I am not looking forward to any of it.

Someone is getting a little grouchy at the baby in the mirror now. I think I'll go rescue him!

It's 5:30 a.m.

Benjamin is swinging in his swing, hiccuping and staring at himself in the mirrored surface above him.

I took him out yesterday to Durham to have lunch with the group at the office. I hope that he hasn't picked up some bug--he seems to me to look a little "goopy" this a.m. His eyes are a little watery and when he was nursing earlier he sounded stuffy. Hopefully he's just sleepy. (I know I am!)

Speaking of nursing, I remain torn about the whole process. I'm still pumping for him, and supplementing with formula when I can't pump enough to keep up with him, but I've also, just this week, started trying to nurse him some. Monday it seemed that he was doing well with it: he nursed several times throughout the day and then slept soundly for hours afterwards. And Tuesday I tried the same tactic, but that evening after I nursed him he still took 5 ounces of expressed breast milk from the bottle, which indicated to me that something still isn't working. He's still not getting enough from me when he nurses. Although. . .throughout the night and in the early morning hours he seems to do just fine. So I don't know, I can't figure out what the deal is.

A part of me continues to be frustrated with it--the worrying, the pumping, the being unable to go for more than three hours at a time without either the baby or the pump, the logistical and strategic nightmare of trying to leave the house for any significant stretch of time and trying to determine how I'll feed him during that time--and wants to just stop altogether and go to formula because, in my mind, it's easiest and it will give me peace of mind that he's getting plenty of nutrients, all the time. But then I think about how we're going into flu season, how he is still so small and has a such an undeveloped immune system, and how good breast milk is for him in that regard, and then I feel so awful for even contemplating giving him formula when I have milk. Even if the process of getting it to him (i. e. pumping) is a pain in the ass sometimes.

Generally I get myself through this continual internal struggle by utilizing the AA tactic of "one day at a time." I tell myself that today I'll pump and nurse and I'll not to worry about what I'll do tomorrow. Tomorrow I might decide to go to formula and not pump and nurse, but today, I will do what it takes to continue to feed him breast milk.

It also helps when I remind myself that he's not going to be this small forever. That, in fact, this stage is going to be hard to remember very soon, because time flies and before I know it he's going to be all grown up, so I need to stop worrying so much and simply enjoy each and every fleeting moment of the here and now. And if it means spending some of that here and now time hooked up to a machine, pumping milk, well, I won't be doing it forever.

And speaking of here and now, he's falling asleep again. And he's so, so, so, so, sooooo darned cute doing it, too. Arms stretched out, fingers occasionally popping up, as though he's waving at someone in his dreams. Making little sleep noises around his pacifier. I just want to eat him up, he's so beautiful!

I think, though, that what I'll do instead is try to catch a little shut eye here on the couch while he's napping.

Before I forget, Benjamin is smiling. Has been for almost a week now. He doesn't do it regularly, but I do believe it's definitely a social smile versus just some random facial twitch because when he does it he is looking at me and it's generally in response to something silly I'm saying to him.

Oh, and he is batting at his hanging toy that hangs over his playpen. Donald has this on video. While it does seem awfully early for this, it's happened too often to just be an accident.

We took Benjamin in today for his one month well-baby check and he was declared the epitome of well-baby.

He weighed in at 10 lbs 14.5 ounces, surpassing his birth-weight. This makes his mommy ever so happy!

Speaking of weight gain. . .and eating. . . I have rented a hospital-grade pump to try and help increase my milk production during the day. But I can't really tell that it's a whole lot better than the electric pump I own. But I'll keep using it, at least for a month (which is the increment of time that one rents these things) and see how it goes.

I've really come to grips a lot more now with the whole breastfeeding--or lack thereof--issue. Bottom line is that Benjamin likes bottles. He likes boobies, too, but not for eating, only for comfort (unless it's the middle of the night and he's super hungry--he nurses fine then). So if he likes bottles, bottles he'll get. And I'll try my best to give him as much breast milk as I can in his bottle, but if the day comes that I can't do it anymore, it'll be OK. I have given him breast milk for his first month of life, which is a month longer than many woman do it, so every additional month--or day, or week--I can do it is great but I won't beat myself up about it if I can't do any longer.

So, let's see, what else?

I went to see a movie with William last week. We saw American Gangster. Donald stayed home with Benjamin. It was nice to get out and just be with William.

Donald is wonderful with Benjamin. And it's so nice having a child with someone who wants to be actively involved with the child.

All in all, I'm feeling much, much more settled and better overall. The hormones are under control, the feeding issues are gone, and there aren't any other health-related problems with either the baby or me.

Now I just wish I could devise a way to never have to go back to work, yet continue to bring home the same amount of money!

So between all the formula and expressed breast milk supplements, Benjamin managed to gain enough weight at his Thursday weigh-in that we no longer have to go in for additional weigh-ins. Yay!!

Of course now I am faced with the dilemma of how best to provide him with nutrition. Can I go back to exclusively breastfeeding? Or will that result in a weight loss again?

What I've done today, and what I suppose I'll have to continue doing, is a combination of nursing, syringe supplements, expressed milk in a bottle, and formula in a bottle.

For example, this a.m. I nursed him exclusively through the night and again at 7 a.m. But at 10 a.m. I had Donald give him a bottle of formula. He took all four ounces! Then around 12:30 p.m. I nursed him again. At 3 p.m. I nursed him but I also, at the same time, gave him a syringe of breast milk. At 6 p.m. (or whenever he next seems hungry) I'll let Donald give him a bottle of expressed milk and I'll pump while he's doing that. Next time I'll nurse him again and then also let Donald either give him the breast milk I manage to pump at 6:00, or I'll have him give him a bottle of formula.

I'm not sure where this is going to lead eventually. Will I continue to be able to pump and do this quasi-nursing thing, or will it one day come down to where he's doing more formula than anything? I'll just have to play it all by ear, I guess.

Truth be told, there's a certain amount of. . .what's the word? relief? to bottle feeding. I know exactly how much is going into his little belly at a given time. Also, I'm afforded a little more freedom in that I can let others feed him. Of course, I feel guilty even saying that, because it's not as though I want to be away from him or anything, but there is a sense of, again, relief in knowing that I am not it when it comes to being able to provide sustenance for him.

Anyway. . .

He's awake again. I won't be able to type much more right now, I'm guessing. (Donald had his vasectomy today and is couch-bound for the remainder of the day and Benjamin, if I had to guess, will want to eat again soon.)

In the meantime, in other, more fun news Benjamin seems to have a birthmark on the right side of his head, above his ear. He also makes loud grunting sounds that lead me to refer to him as "Franken-baby." He has a perfectly round head with a covering of peachy-fuzzy hair. Because of that I sometimes call him "my fuzzy cantaloupe head." (I also call him "moon-pie head" sometimes, simply because of the roundness of his little dome.)

Oh well, time to heat a bottle of breast milk I do believe!

I haven't written in a few days. Mainly because I was under the (mistaken) impression that all was well and there just wasn't much to write about. Ha! I shoulda known better!

We have just returned from yet another trip to the doctor's office (it's simply a miracle that he hasn't caught some awful cold from all the waiting rooms he's been in during his three weeks on the outside now) where we have learned that not only did he not gain weight since his visit last Thursday, he actually has lost a 1/2 ounce.

Donald says not to worry, that a 1/2 ounce is nothing. But it is something. . .it means he hasn't gained anything and in nearly five days he should have gained weight, not lost it.

So the doc's LC gave me this syringe with a little tube that I'm supposed to run down into his mouth while he nurses that will provide him with formula supplementation. I'm to do this every other time we nurse today and then at least four times tomorrow, then it's back to the doc on Thursday for another weight check.

I'm not sure what to do on Thursday if he has gained weight. Do I continue to supplement with the formula? I would assume, since it would seem that it was the formula and not my breastmilk that caused him to gain. But if that's the case, why keep trying to breastfeed? What's the point if he's not nursing enough to gain weight?

Grrrrrr. I'm so frustrated. And worried. Why won't he gain weight? Why is he having trouble nursing? Why doesn't he poop? Why, why, why?

As for me, I'm feeling much more human.

Benjamin's lovely nighttime schedule is allowing me to get a goodly amount of sleep. I have lost almost all of my baby weight (still have about 20 lbs I want to lose, but I had that before I got pregnant). I can wear all of my rings now, even my engagement ring. And I'm wearing a pair of my "regular" jeans. Granted they are made with stretchy material in them, but still, they're ON and that's what counts!

Yesterday Benjamin was two weeks old.

We went to the pediatrician's at 9 a.m. for his two week check up. He's gained weight well since his last visit, so no more grief from the doc or the LC there about supplements or anything else. He had not, as of our visit, pooped in five days, so we were concerned about that and the doc said we could try a 1/2 of a glycerin suppository, but lo and behold last night he did the deed all on his own. We were ecstatic! Now if he'll just do that a little more often than once every five days. . .

Yesterday afternoon we went back to the urologists for his circumcision follow up. Everything looked good there.

On the way home from that appointment he got extremely fussy in the car. We stopped so I could nurse him, and he calmed down, but as soon as we got back on our way, he started fussing again. I ended up hovering over him so he could nurse while being strapped in his car seat. Not the most comfortable of nursing positions.

So during the day we still don't have a schedule of any sort worked out. Sometimes he goes for three hours without nursing, sometimes he gets all worked up and I'm nursing him every hour or hour and 1/2. I still worry about supply and still think sometimes that going to a bottle would be better--at least then I'd have numbers to go by--but I'm trying to stick with it a few more weeks to see how things pan out. By the time he's a month to a month and 1/2 I figure that we should start seeing more of a pattern to his nursing habits and if, at that point, it still seems as though I can't go more than a few minutes between nursing him, I may decide to switch to bottles.

Nights, on the other hand, are going rather well (knock on wood). I nurse him around 10 p.m. and then Donald gives him a couple of ounces in a bottle of either expressed milk (if I've been able to pump during the day) or formula. Makes him full as a tick and he sleeps for at least four or five hours. In fact, this a.m. he probably would have slept longer had I not gotten him up and sort of forced him to nurse while in bed with me.

So while that part is going well, I still don't see how people who have small children manage this (breastfeeding in the beginning). Lizzie and William are older and certainly less demanding (most times) than toddlers and I still feel as though I'm being unfair to them by being constantly tied down to nursing. I'm already stressing out about how I'm going to manage attending Lizzie's cheer leading awards stuff. That's where bottle feeding would be nice. And again, the numbers on the bottle would indicate exactly how much he's eating so I wouldn't wonder whether or not he's getting enough.

Oh well, we'll just have to see how it goes.

(True confessions: There's also some selfish motivation for wanting to continue nursing--it does burn calories and helps with weight loss.)

Right now we have to get ready to go over to Willa's. We're going to be there with her while she puts her cat down. Sad stuff. But I couldn't see letting her go it alone. Hopefully Benjamin's belly will cooperate with this effort.

Today was appointment day.

Mine at 11:00 a.m. in Chapel Hill (everything was fine--oh, and Benjamin had his hearing test and that, too, was fine), and then a consultation with a urologist in Cary at 2:30 p.m. for Donald (vasectomy!).

Benjamin more or less slept through the entire day, strapped in his carseat. In between the appointments we stopped at Regency Park so I could nurse him midday and then we had lunch at some icky coffee shop in MacGregor Village.

As far as nursing goes in general, Benjamin nursed last night around 10:00 and then Donald gave him the ounce and 1/2 of breastmilk I had pumped earlier, which he quickly downed. He slept until 2:40 a.m., at which time I got up, nursed him on the left (he went to sleep almost immediatley), changed his diaper, nursed him on the right (again, almost immediatley to sleep), and we went back to bed. He awoke again around. . .5? I put him in bed with me and nursed on one side, and we both fell back asleep until 7ish, when I rolled over and let him nurse on the other side. We slept that time until 9:00 a.m.

I suppose I need to stop putting him in bed with me, but it's soooo nice to be able to sleep. We'll see how it goes this a.m.

I had Donald give him a bottle of formula after our 9:00 a.m. nursing session this a.m. and he drank about an ounce and 1/2 and seemed very contented afterwards. I haven't done any further supplementing today, but will have Donald give him a bottle at his next feeding tonight, which should be around 10 p.m. I would have pumped today, but we were gone so much it was impossible.

Otherwise, what's going on? Let's see. . .

Benjamin's head control is improving. Amazingly so. He can hold it up and look around when on his tummy. And when I hold him in a sitting position to burp him, he holds his head steady then for quite some time.

Oh, and he is a very vocal baby. Lots of grunts, squeaks, and other noises, all the time. Lots of funny faces, too, to go with the noises. I need to get some video of him doing his thing. I wonder if this is an indication of how he'll be when he's older?

Tomorrow we have another visit scheduled with Cindi, the LC. This is all re: the fact that Benjamin didn't gain weight between his doctor visits. It will be interesting to see what her scales show. I personally think he's doing OK. . .but we'll see.

More tomorrow. . .

(This is something I posted on trianglemommies.com that I wanted to save here. Several mommies posted to add some pretty important points to it, but this is just my original post.)

If I wrote etiquette books. . .

This is what I would have to say about visiting new mommies and babies (granted at this moment I'm grumpy and sleep deprived, but I think that this will hold true even after I get some sleep--if that day ever occurs!):

1. Never, ever, ever show up uninvited. Also, never call and simply announce that you are coming. Unless you have been invited by the new mom herself, stay home.

2. Never call the house phone. It cannot be put on vibrate. Call the cell phone. If you don't get an answer or a call back, don't be offended. If the new mom does answer, don't try to talk to her about your problems. In fact, don't keep her on the phone for any reason, no matter what it is. Ask if you can come over, if she says yes, hang up. Ditto if she says no (except before you hang up, be sure to say that you completely understand and you hope she gets some rest).

3. If you have been invited over, unless you are planning to clean the kitchen, do laundry, or complete some other much needed household task, DO NOT STAY for longer than 10 minutes. If you do, in fact, help out around the house, do so quietly and plan to leave directly afterwards.

4. Bring food. Preferably casseroles or other things that are quick and easy to heat and eat.

5. If you do bring food, bring it such that you can leave it. Do not, under any circumstances, assume that the new mom and dad will want to eat with you while you're there.

6. Do NOT bring children under the age of five.

7. If you must bring children under the age of five, make sure to bring your S.O. and that you have worked out beforehand who is to supervise the child, as it is not cool to let him/her run freely throughout the new mom's house, thus stressing her out even more than she already is. Also, it is absolutely critical that you adhere to the 10 minute rule in this case! (Which unfortunately my friends did not do, staying for nearly two hours while their three year old ran amok.)

Yep, just when I thought things were going well, what do I do? I haul Benjamin off to the pediatrician's office to get his weight. Assuming, of course, the entire time that he's gained tons and that we are finally going to be pronounced completely healthy and normal. But naturally, that doesn't happen. Instead I find out that he's exactly the same weight, 9.85, that he was as the last time he was there (the 16th, six days ago now) and I get stuck with Dr. Personality (first name is No), who asked me numerous times, in spite of getting the exact same response from me each time, whether or not my milk was in and if Benjamin was eating at least every three hours (answers: yes and yes).

Something else to worry about. . .

Yesterday was a good day and things seem to be ironing themselves out in general.

Benjamin is nursing a lot better and being fussy a lot less. I'm getting some sleep (he slept from ~10:15 p.m. until 2:50 a.m. and I was able to get to sleep around 11 p.m.. When he woke up at 2:50 a.m. I was awake for about an hour, I guess, but then we all went back to sleep and slept until 6 something, at that point I nursed him in bed and then we slept until 9 a.m., so all totaled I got something like 9 hours of sleep!)

He is not, unfortunately, a big fan of his swing, as my other two were. He'll hang out in it for awhile, but it's not the continued source of soothing that it was to William and Elizabeth. Benjamin would much rather be held. Of course, then if you're holding him, he'd like to be nursed, too. But that's OK, this too shall pass I know. In the meantime, the daytime hours are a bit challenging, as I can't just hold and nurse constantly.

I have ordered a DVD and book entitled Happiest Baby on the Block that the mommies on the Triangle forum recommended. Supposedly it contains a lot of good ideas on helping babies help soothe themselves. Wish it would hurry and get here!

We don't have anything on today's agenda except to go to the pediatrician's office for a weight check on their scales. According to Cindi's scales, he'd actually lost a bit of weight, but I'm hoping that was just a difference in scales. We'll see this afternoon.

The rest of this week we have appts everyday. Tomorrow is Chapel Hill for me and Cary Urology for Donald (vasectomy time!). Wednesday I have an appt to talk to a Coast Guard recruiter with William and then Lizzie has an orthodontist appt. Thursday we follow up with Raleigh Urology on Benjamin's circumcision. Friday he has his two week check up.

*Whew*

It's going to be one of THOSE weeks!

But at least I have some sleep this time, and the weather looks like it'll be nice.

Benjamin's feeding times for the day (beginning Saturday, 20 October):

3:15 am: nursed
6:00 am: nursed
9:10 am: nursed
10:00 am: 2 oz. of formula
11:30 am: nursed
2:30 p.m.: nursed
4:00: nursed
5:15: nursed
8:15: nursed
*9:35: nursed
12:00 a.m.: nursed
2:00 a.m.: nursed
5:00 a.m.: nursed
8:20 a.m.: nursed
9:35 a.m.: nursed
10:40 a.m.: nursed

2:35 p.m.: nursed


*The 9:35 p.m. feeding was basically a continuation of the 8:15 session. When I nursed him at 8:15 we stopped for a diaper change, nursed some more, then stopped to put his clothes and his swaddle blanket on, then nursed. He finally stopped nursing around 10:15 and slept then until midnight.

So Cindi (Freeman is her last name) has come and gone.

And I'm feeling so much better about things. (Well, at least breastfeeding things--I'm still feeling a little weepy in general, but Donald has gone off to fetch the prescription of Zoloft that the Birth Center called in last night so hopefully I'll start feeling better all the way around here soon.)

Cindi was so gentle and kind and patient and she LISTENED to me. And best of all, she said that she thought things looked really good. That we both, Benjamin and I, seemed to be performing our individual parts well with regards to nursing.

Bottom line, though, is that I need to build up my milk supply and the best way to do that is to nurse. So what she has recommended for today is a "baby/breastfeeding honeymoon" of sorts: Stay in bed, lots of skin to skin contact, lots of nursing. And if tonight he does his "I'm still hungry" thing, give him a supplemental bottle of either expressed milk (providing I pump some today) or formula. (I'm so glad she said that--I was afraid that she'd be a breastfeeding nazi, as many LCs are, and would say "NO BOTTLE FOR YOU!" and would make me feel really badly about the bottles he's already had, but she isn't/didn't and instead was really cool about being flexible.)

So I'm going to do the stay in bed thing (with lots of sunshine and lights so that I don't get depressed) and see what happens.

Whatever happens, right now I feel better, and that's nice.

Maybe I will get through this!

Last night was great.

Around 10:30 I had nursed Benjamin for, all totaled, over an hour, but he was still hungry, or acted that way, at any rate. So I had Donald give him roughly two ounces of breast milk I'd pumped earlier. He downed all of that and went to sleep.

And he slept until 3 a.m.!

At 3 a.m. I got him up, nursed on one side, had Donald change his diaper, nursed on the other side, laid him back down and he slept until. . .6? Ish.

At that point I got him up, put him in bed with us and nursed him on both sides again.

He slept until 9:10!

But then. . .

I nursed him on the left side. I had Donald change him. I nursed him on the right side. He just played on that side, never really nursed well. But he acted as though he was done, so I put him in his swing so that I could eat something for breakfast. He immediately began to scream. And nothing made him feel any better. Not the swing, not Donald holding him, not being burped. So I did it. I broke down.

I gave him a bottle of formula. (Well, I gave Donald the bottle of formula to give him.)

Two entire ounces he ate.

And now he is, seemingly, contented.

He's swinging in his swing, not asleep, eyes wide open, in fact, no pacifier, just hanging out. No screaming.

I don't understand what's going on. Either I don't have the milk or he isn't latching on correctly or maybe he has had enough of a bottle that he really isn't interested in working at the breast anymore. I just don't know. The midwives at the Birth Center have said that Hispanic babies are switched back and forth from breast to bottle from the start and don't seem to have any issues, so maybe it won't be a big deal with him either.

But I feel like such a. . .failure.

I want to breastfeed, I really do, but at the same time I don't want to be a human pacifier, and more importantly, I don't want him to be hungry.

I'll be very interested in what the lactation consultant has to say today. I hope she can help. I know that formula isn't going to kill him, but I mean, sheesh. . .nothing else has gone right--I didn't have the birth experience I'd hoped for, he had the whole bilirubin issue and we were out of the house everyday his first week of life to take him to someone who would stab his foot--at the very least I'd like for breastfeeding to work out.

P.S. Note to self: I opened the can of formula today, Saturday, 20 October. The can says to discard any unused powder in a month.

Benjamin is now eight days old.

Today has been a good day, compared with the past few.

I slept last night for probably. . .six? hours. Not straight, but total. Not too shabby.

I had, last night, decided that I might just call this whole breastfeeding thing quits. But I called a lactation consultant today; Cindi somebody (can't remember her last name), who was recommended on the Triangle Mommies forum. She seems, on the phone at least, both knowledgeable and nice. Sympathetic to the plight of new mommies. She's coming here to the house tomorrow to do an assessment. This'll cost money, but if she can help me feel better about the whole breast feeding thing, it's money well spent. And I've decided to give it three months. If I can nurse him for at least three months then I won't let myself feel guilty for stopping. If at three months things are going smoothly, I might consider giving it another three months so that he'll have been nursed for six months total. Almost all of the studies I've read about the benefits of breastfeeding use six months as the time frame of the study. But if at three months I'm still having issues and it seems that we would both be better served by bottles of formula, that's what I'll do.

Other than the breastfeeding thing, though, I wish I could make myself feel better in general. I am trying so hard to be upbeat and optimistic, but this depression lies just beneath the surface and it takes just the tiniest scratch to bring it bubbling up. I can be feeling fine, then wham! it'll hit me.

Today the "thing"that has me depressed is the loss of freedom. I think back to a mere week and a half ago, when I was lying on the couch, reading a book, doing what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it. Or a month ago, when Donald and I spent the evening all by ourselves in a bed and breakfast, no demands on us at all. And yes, of course I thought about all of this when I decided to get pregnant and I was perfectly aware of what sort of sacrifice of time, emotion, etc. having a baby would mean. . .but that doesn't change the fact that right this moment I'm a tad resentful. And OF COURSE I feel guilty as hell for even feeling that resentment. So there you go, today's problems: resentment and guilt.

And those are just the most recent bit of neuroses to strike me. Add it to the ongoing feeling of inadequacy, the constant worry over things I can't change, and the overwhelming anxiety I have about the future (both near and distant--e.g. from having to go back to work to Donald's health) and what you have is someone who feels completely out of control and lost. And I can't get it to stop!

Far out. Just typing about all of this has gotten me all teary and morose feeling.

God, what is WRONG with me?? I want OFF this ride!!

Maybe I will go on Zoloft!

In the meantime, thank FSM for Donald. If he weren't here I think I'd have seriously lost it by now.

This depression comes over me in waves. I can feel it coming, taking over my entire countenance. I know it's hormonally driven, but knowing that doesn't make it better.

It's not been a bad day, either, all things considered. (Which further proves that it's a hormone thing.)

Benjamin was circumcised today. And while we were waiting in the doctor's office for the doctor to perform the procedure, his (Benjamin's, not the doctor's) umbilical stump fell off. So he left two pieces of himself in Raleigh Pediatric Urology.

But on another note, I have what appears to be a malfunctioning breast. My right breast doesn't seem to be producing milk for some reason.

Going to go look it up and see what I can find. The What to Expect the First Year book addresses it and suggests that I've just preferred the other breast for some reason, but then it also says something about occasionally the infant will reject a breast with a malignancy. Naturally this is what I've focused on.

It's official: I am a milk machine. And that's it. A human milk production facility.

Oh, and Benjamin won't sleep. Not on his own, in his own space, for any length of time that would allow me to sleep, anyway. But boy, haul him out to the van, strap him in his car seat, lug him out of his car seat, put him in his stroller and take him to a middle school football game complete with yelling and screaming and he sleeps. . .well, like a baby.

Meanwhile, I've been reduced to a milk-producing, sleep-deprived, hormonal zombie.

But at least tonight I'm not a crying milk-producing, sleep-deprived, hormonal zombie. Not yet anyway. The night, though, is young. But I'm trying hard to maintain. Donald helps me. He is such a wonderful husband. If not for him then I seriously think I'd have to give consideration to checking into Dorothea Dix, or the equivalent thereof.

I don't understand, either. I wasn't like this with Lizzie. Perhaps I was a bit with William. . .I do recall going to the pediatrician's office one day with my breasts bound in an Ace bandage because I just couldn't take it anymore. Fortunately they were able to talk me down and I resumed breast feeding. But I was 18 then. It was understandable that I should have a hard time coping. I'm not 18 anymore. I've done this twice already. I made my living taking care of not one baby but five of them at a time in child care nurseries. So what in the hell is going on here? Why am I struggling so much?

I don't get it.

And I feel so guilty.

I've contemplated bottle feeding.

I know! How awful!

He needs breastmilk. And I have breastmilk.

If only he'd SLEEP.

I nurse him. He sleeps. I lie him down. He sleeps for ten minutes at a time. Then he wiggles. Startles. Cries. I nurse him. It's a vicious circle.

Currently he's in his swing. Moaning. Working up to a cry.

I just nursed him an hour ago.

I guess I'll nurse him again.

I'm serious about the bottle thing.

But I'd feel so damned guilty. . .


P.S. His bilirubin level went down even farther today, from 13.8 the day before yesterday to 13.2 today. And he pooped today. He hadn't pooped in over 24 hours and I was getting a little wigged out. But he pooped today, so I'm happy. (Bet there aren't many occasions in life where one gets to write such a sentence. Thank FSM.)

I can't stop crying.



Today (Tuesday) wasn't a bad day, really. Benjamin actually slept pretty well last night and was doing great this a.m. But tonight, for some reason, he won't sleep. By himself, that is. He sleeps great if I'm nursing him or otherwise holding him, but as soon as I lie him down he starts wiggling and crying. He won't sit in the swing either. It's going to be one of those nights.



In the meantime, I have a low grade fever and everything in the world is wrong.

Benjamin is four days old today. (As days go, it's a good one so far. He's slept. He's eaten. He's "played" with me. Hopefully tonight will be a good night, too. Last night wasn't much fun, he was colicky.)

The past three days have been a total blur. Which I always assumed they would be, but in this case, they've not just been a blur of new baby, but a blur of doctor visits and near-hospital admittance.

Benjamin has blood group incompatibility jaundice.

I'm blood type O+. Benjamin is type A. We're not compatible. I have produced antibodies that are inside of his little body, attacking his red blood cells.

I did not mean to do this.

He's being treated here at home with a "biliblanket," a light-emitting device that he wears on his back constantly. The day before yesterday his levels had increased by nearly 5 points. Between Saturday and Sunday they'd only increased by one point. We have to go have his blood drawn daily to determine how things are going. I'm hoping that they tell me today it's going down. But I don't want to get my hopes up too high. While he is eating frequently and is well-lighted, he's just not eliminating waste as he should be. He hasn't had a dirty diaper in over 24 hours. And last night he obviously had tummy troubles, as he was a very colicky baby there for a few hours.

So now I'm worried about the inner workings of his little abdomen.

Worry, worry, worry. That seems to be my new M.O.

That's the other thing. . .I'm so hormonal and weepy. I'm sick with worry--about the baby, of course, but also about just anything and everything, too, it seems.

There hasn't been one day since his birth that I haven't broken down in tears. And I'm not weepy over the whole jaundice/poop issue--which if I'm going to cry you'd think that would be enough to keep me busy--I'm all emotional over things that I can't control at all.

For instance, this a.m. in the shower I started crying because William is going to visit UNC-W this weekend. That means he's going to be leaving soon. That means I'm losing a child. That means that Lizzie is growing up. She's nearly 13. She'll soon be changing, becoming a teenager. Leaving me. This means that Donald is getting older. He's 62 already. We've been together for 10 years and they've gone by in a flash. What's going to happen in another 10 years? I'm going to blink and he'll be 72. What will he be like then? What biologically does he have festering under the surface that I can't see that might take him away from me? From Benjamin? I don't want him to leave me. Leave us. And I know, I know, I know. I can't stop time. And worrying about all the things to come and the what ifs means that I'm not engaging and enjoying in the here and now. I know all this. And still I cry.

God, I'm a mess.