Is Breast Always Really Best?

I really hate to show up here after months of silence and jump right into my predicament without any updates about how incredible life as a mother of two is, but it's also very busy so I must skip over all the flowery wonderfulness and get right to it.

I have a problem.

When Isaac was born I resolved to myself that I would not be a crazy breastfeeding nazi as I had been with Sawyer. After all the drama of his failure to thrive diagnosis and reflux, that mentality had definitely bitten me squarely in the butt.

This time around, I made sure to get Isaac familiar with a bottle around 3 weeks of age (at the recommendation of his pediatrician) and I even gave him formula a few times a week when we went on outings. Hey, let's face it... formula is just so much more convenient for on the go feedings especially when a demanding toddler is part of the picture.

All was going well until just before Isaac hit 2 months. At that point he started to revolt against the breast. He would sometimes drink for 4-5 minutes and then start choking and screaming. Sometimes he would start screaming the instant I attempted to get him to latch on. Of course, I was completely convinced that he, like his big brother, was suffering from silent reflux. In these instances he almost always willingly took a bottle, however, he take a bottle upright and I have just never mastered the art of breastfeeding in any position that did not include the baby lying down. This all still stayed true to my reflux diagnosis.

Around this same time Isaac started to have mucus in his stools. Every now and then. Not all the time. Then one day there were specks of blood in two separate diapers.... so I called the doctor.

The doctor pretty much dismissed my fears of silent reflux and said he believes that Isaac is just being lazy. The bottle is so much easier, why would he want to work so hard to breastfeed when he could simply have a bottle instead? He said he was sorry but that was just going to be a battle I was going to have to fight.

As far as the mucus and blood he said milk protein allergy. So he recommended a special kind of formula and told me to cut milk from my diet.

Now, it has been about a month since all of this has happened and here is how things are going now. Isaac pretty much refuses to breastfeed at all times except for his two earliest morning feedings. I have been trying to keep up with pumping, but it is extremely difficult to find the time to do so. As a result my supply has dropped in half. Therefore, most of the time Isaac gets half formula and half breastmilk.

I tried really hard this week (now that the craziness of the holidays and visitors is finally over) to push the breast at every feeding. It seemed to work out ok yesterday (I only had to give him a bottle at 2 feedings), but today he has been revolting again and in an extreme kind of way.

Now, to add to the complexity of all  of this, I have not done a brilliant job of cutting milk from my diet. The mucus in his stools only seems to have gotten worse (no more blood, though) and I was regularly incorporating foods into my diet that I belatedly realized incorporated milk in its ingredients (you would be completely SHOCKED to find all of the things that contain milk. pretty much everything from boxed rice to bread to taco seasoning and so on and so forth. It's ridiculous. I am pretty much a vegan right now!) Only in the past few days do I think I finally have a good handle on eliminating milk from my diet completely. Online I have read that it can take anywhere from 4-6 weeks to completely rid your body of the milk proteins.

In the meantime, this diet is SUCH A STRUGGLE (OMG I AM DESPERATE FOR A CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE, bread with butter, freaking mashed potatoes, a blueberry muffin, and on and on and on)! Pumping is taking a huge portion of the very teeny tiny bit of free time I have in the first place and my milk seems to be hurting Isaac more than it's helping at this point anyway... so I just keep asking myself. Why exactly am I doing this?

Why not just switch completely over to the hypo-allergenic formula and call it a day? Is breast still best when I can't seem to get my diet straight so that my baby isn't constantly suffering from mucusy diarrhea and he is completely against breastfeeding as it is.

ugh. My logical brain says just let it go, Sarah, and start him on the formula full time. But something. SOMETHING in myself is not letting me give up completely. Yes it's a complete and total struggle for every last drop of that breastmilk. Yes, I am desperate (you have no idea) for anything buttery or milky or chocolatey and I have no idea how I'm going to keep this up for MONTHS let alone his entire first year....

I just need... help! Advice. Thoughts. Comments. Whatever you can give me that might help. Please.

the grass is greener...

Have you ever been on your way to get a new haircut or style and suddenly decided that you are actually completely in love with your hair just the way it is?  If so, then maybe you can relate a little bit to how I'm feeling right now. (that happens to me every single time I ever get a haircut, btw. My husband says I have "the grass is greener syndrome". I don't argue).

2.5 weeks from my due date now.... and I'm kind of in denial. But everything in my life is just sooooo perfect right now. How can this MAJOR change be about to take place? I'm just not... ready.

I will be much more ready on Monday when my mother-in-law arrives in town -- at which point I can stop having nightmares and overly dramatic worries about going into labor in the middle of the night and having to wake my peacefully slumbering toddler and dump him in a strange place for the evening while Mike and I rush off to go have his baby brother.

Should I feel bad that this worry/thought has overridden pretty much any newborn baby bliss kind of planning I likely should be feeling right now? I don't know. Just this week, I have had several conversations with people that have gone pretty much verbatim like this:

person: Oh, I bet you are SO READY to have that baby already
me: (sheepishly) yeah, kind of...
person: (silent, bewildered stare)
me: I am just hoping the baby will stay put a little longer... or at least until Monday
person: (not even trying to mask their shock/confusion over this very strange answer) WHY?
me: that's when my help arrives.
person: Oh. that makes sense. (as if to say - sort of, I guess, but you are kind of an alien for being the only person ever in the history in the world who is not completely desperate to meet your precious new little baby right this very instant!!!!!)

.....
end conversation.

I always feel like kind of a bad person when I admit out loud that actually, I really am not completely ready for this baby. I know things are different with #2. I know that when he finally does make his glorious appearance all those little details aren't going to matter to me one little smidgen and my world will start spinning in the very best kind of way. I know Sawyer will love his little baby brother  as much as Mike and I will and our world will be doubly blessed with two precious little guys. I know I know I know.

But at this very moment I just can't really wrap my brain around anything but the here and now.. and here and now life has gotten pretty great and pretty easy and Sawyer and I are in a pretty wonderful routine... and now I find myself heading to the "salon" for a "makeover" and I am just not too sure how it's going to go... and that my friends.. is a little bit scary.

I will Survive

Ever since I found out I was pregnant and that my two little ones were going to be a little less than two years apart in age, I have had many worries/concerns about the logistics of taking care of two little people so close in age.

Over the months, I have run into many people whose children were close in age, and I have always been sure to ask them how they managed it/how it has gone for them/what their struggles have been.  Almost without fail, people have given me a glazed over answer of, "Oh, it hasn't been too bad. (insert name here) is a great big (brother/sister)." and so on and so forth.

Every time I receive one of these answers, quite frankly, I have been pretty shocked.

Today, though? Today, I think I got the first real honest answer of bunch. Maybe it was because this particular mom has TWO boys (and let's face it - toddler boys are just a little bit more difficult to wrangle than toddler girls) or maybe it's because the little one is still very little, so her struggles continue to this day and/or are very fresh in her mind.  Whatever the reason, SHE gave voice to all of my worries. 

"It's been hard because *Caleb wants me to hold him a lot, and I just can't do it most of the time."
"Caleb has gotten extra needy of my attention."

"Just the logistics of going places with two little ones is daunting. I can't run after Caleb like before, so I have to trust him to stay near me/hold my hand/stay out of trouble/etc"

These are all my concerns. Rather than getting more independent since the beginning of my pregnancy, Sawyer has gotten much more needy. Especially at home. Especially when I'm busy doing something. When we are out and about he will still decide out of seemingly nowhere to dart off in a completely different direction and will not listen to voice commands to STOP. TURN AROUND. COME BACK. Forcing me to chase after him. If I want to get up or down the stairs in our house in less than 10 minutes, I really have to carry him. Sawyer likes to stop every few steps and take a seat or pick at an invisible speck of something he spies on the way. He tries to bring 10 toys up or down the steps with him. Basically, he's on Sawyer's time schedule which is fine and lovely, but oh-so-not-convenient when a newborn baby becomes part of the picture.

I know that I am going to figure out how to deal with all of these hurdles when the time comes. Sawyer will have to adapt more than even I want him to have to. But he will. And I will. We will get through it. Just as this mom has done. Clearly, she is doing alright since she was out of her house and at a play group by 10:15 am that morning with a 2.5 year old and a 5 month old in tow. She even had a matching outfit on, her hair combed nicely, and I do believe I spied a bit of make-up on her face as well.

She has managed and figured it out and is not as war-torn as I might have imagined. So maybe she could have told me, "Oh, it hasn't been so bad." But instead, she was completely honest, and for that, I am truly appreciative. This way, when I struggle and strain through those early days with two little ones, I will know that I am not the only one. That it really is tough, and I'm allowed to admit that it is and say it out loud. I won't feel the need to put on a happy face and pretend that it's all so much easier than I had anticipated. It will be what it will be, and what it will be is pretty freaking hard... but I will survive.

There will come a day when another pregnant mother will see me out of the house at a decent hour, with two little ones in tow, my hair washed and brushed and a little bit of make-up on my face. And when she asks me how I've managed I will be sure to tell her the whole truth... and hopefully she will find comfort in the knowledge that though it has been tough I have survived just as she will.

Decorating

The craziness of last month is almost a distant memory. We somehow managed to do everything on that wild to-do list and keep our sanity in tact at the same time.

We are mostly settled now in our new place. I had some nagging fears that I might regret moving, but I have to say... I am nothing but thrilled. We really love this house (even though it will likely only be "ours" for a short time), and I am amazed by how quickly it started to feel like home.

Now that we're settling, I'm getting the itch to decorate and make it mine. With 3.5 months until the expected arrival of the newest member of our family, I am realizing time is going to fly so have started to obsess about giving the new little guy his own space.

While he won't get his own room, (he'll be sharing with the guest room) this new house does have a big enough guest room that it can comfortably fit a queen sized bed, end tables, the baby's crib, dresser, and even rocking chair if I choose to put it in there. I just recently decided this little guy should have his own crib from the start. While Sawyer slept in our bedroom until he was 6 months old, I did usually put him down in the crib in his bedroom for naptimes, and I attribute his seamless transition to the crib at night to the fact that he was no stranger to that crib.

On more of a budget this time around, I started whispering in my sister's ear that they need to get their 2-year-old into a toddler bed by October so that I can score a free crib. I think it's do-able. It will be getting the crib to South Carolina that might be a bit more challenging.

In the meantime, My sister and mom acquired a dresser from a yard sale that my  mom will be re-finishing and/or painting as per my request when I figure out exactly what I want, and a nursery glider. (I didn't have any sort of rocking chair when Sawyer was young and to this day sometimes still wish I had one. I have often found myself in his room at night literally mimicking the motions of a rocking chair with my body!).

That just leaves decorating.
I fell in love with all of the prints I found on this etsy site, but in the end settled with these four prints:

For the final version, she is going to make the picture of the motorcycle landscape also. The theme of the room will be "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles"

and above the baby's crib will be this word art.

Overall, I'm pretty excited. I was feeling sad for the new little man that he would have to share a room, but now I think his half of the room is going to be super awesome, and I am a little jealous. :)

I will try to post pics when the room comes together a little bit. Until then...

crazy

I must be completely out of my mind. This is what the next few days and weeks of my life are looking like:

Tomorrow: Pre-Move-out-Inspection of our house on base

YES! We are moving! But not to Parris Island. :( Even after my magnificent letter AND Mike's commanding officer getting involved the housing people would not budge. We found what we think will be a very awesome house for an incredible deal OFF base, closer to Mike's work.. and we're pretty excited.

Friday, June 15:
OB appointment for me
Movers arrive to move our BIG stuff to the new house

Saturday, June 16:
Mike works half a day
We spend the rest of the day hauling our closet items and smaller items to the new house

Sunday, June 17:
Mike and person who is buying the chain link fence in our yard will take it down
I will work on unpacking the new house/hanging stuff on the walls/packing up what will hopefully be the last of what is in our house on base.

Monday, June 18: The owner of the new house will be in town to do an inspection to make note of any damage/wear and tear made to the house by the previous tenants. (yes, things are happening a little out of order here, but we military are flexible and this is the only way everything would work out right.)

Tuesday, June 19: Sawyer's 18 month appointment
Finish unpacking/hanging & decorating/ generally trying to make the house look decent

Wednesday June 20: Sawyer and I fly to DC for 2 weeks of visiting family/attending my friend's bridal shower

----
June 20-July 1 = hopefully very relaxing

July 2:
Sawyer and I arrive in Charleston, SC by plane.
Mike's FAMILY arrives to our home earlier that day.

Yes. I have to be completely unpacked/have my house in decent order before I leave on June 20 because we have company on the very day I get back.

July 6: Mike's family leaves

July 7: Final inspection of our house on base (which means I have to find time somewhere in the midst of all this to clean the house on base. me thinks I will probably be hiring a cleaning company.)

I must be completely nuts.

Planning a Move?

In the end, we didn't really make a decision about this, and in not making a decision, we decided by default to plow ahead and see what fate will have in store for us. I can't give you an exact, logical reason... we're just not ready to give up on this just yet.

In the meantime, we've set our sights on a more shorterm goal. We might be getting our wish and moving to Parris Island. Mike met with, called, tried his damndest to be annoying and bug them about getting us a house, and in the end it was to no avail. Finally, I called myself and was given the distinct impression that we were very last priority to get a house on Parris Island, and if we didn't do something about it, we would never move there.

So I wrote a letter. Which my mom revised. Brilliantly, I might add. She made the focus of the letter that our desire to be on Parris Island is really a safety concern for Michael. His long hours have him drivng on dark, winding roads at ridiculous hours of the day and night on very little sleep. The letter advocated that series commanders and drill instructors be given first priority for base housing on Parris Island due to their work hours. Of course, also mentioned in the letter was our initial hardship with the fleas and how we had been told that our house had been "recently renovated" with "all new flooring throughout the house". Both of these proved to be untrue. It's true that some houses in this neighborhood had been recently renovated with brand new flooring, but our house is far from one of them.

Mike sent his Commanding Officer a copy of it before we sent it out -- to see if he would like to be CC'd. He didn't, but he said to "fire away" and even recommended that we send it to the CO of the Air Station here as he is the one, apparently, with the power to make changes in policy for the housing.

It was sent. And we waited. And waited. And just when I shrugged my shoulders and thought, "Oh well. At least we tried." Mike came home from work and said his CO wanted to see him about the "housing letter.", but when Mike had gone to see him he was at the Airstation. The next day, Mike finally caught up with the CO who said our letter had made quite an impression on the CO of the airstation. Mike and his CO are scheduled to have a meeting with the head of housing next week.

Small victory. I think.

Of course, last night I lay awake in bed for several hours mentally planning our "move". The idea of boxes and everything having to be re-organized and re-placed in a new home had me reeling. I think it will be very worth it in the end, though, if they do in fact give us our wish and give us a house on the Island. No, I don't have any grand ideas that the cool kids will suddenly welcome me in their midst once I am living in their "hood", but having Mike so close by will be completely priceless... especially with the little baby on the way. I can't tell you how many times I have felt completely helpless here, stuck alone with my sick baby (or my sick self) with Michael stuck on Parris Island and not able to come by to help me out at all.

Crossing my fingers and praying this scheduled meeting next week goes our way, and if it does... praying that the move doesn't take the last bits of sanity I have left.

The Dawn of a New Age in Parenting

This weekend I had a bit of an eye-opening experience. I saw my little "angel" through the eyes of others... and it left me a little uneasy. Generally, when I take Sawyer places, I almost always leave all swelled up with pride in my amazing little man. This weekend, that was not exactly the case.

First of all, you should know that we went somewhere that was not child-proofed and had lots of stairs (which we do not have at our house so that means it's a complete novelty for Sawyer). There were also a lot of people packed into a small space AND there was a baby girl about 11-months-old.

When we arrived, Mike and I took our places. He was stationed on one end of the room and I was stationed on the other. For the first 45 minutes Sawyer literally ran from one end of the room to the other. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Stopping only briefly to take the magnets and pictures off of the refrigerator, venture into the laundry room and zone immediately in on the ax that was in there, try to climb the stairs repeatedly, make himself comfortable in the master bedroom, grab at the food on people's plates, and make the little baby cry.

What? Yes. The other things? Those are completely expected and boy-age-appropriate, I would say. Admittedly, I think the kid-less couples were watching Sawyer's boundless energy and thinking, "Maybe I'm not ready for kids just yet" and the couples with kids were thinking, "I'm really glad that's not MY kid." But he wasn't being bad. He was just being... a toddler who does, in fact, have boundless amounts of energy and curiousity.

It was when he stepped on the 11-month-old's hand and made her cry. (Not on purpose, of course, but who wants to be the parent responsible for the kid responsible for making a baby cry? Not I.).... or when he actually took her toy phone and threw it AT her (right after I told him, "don't throw that") and made her cry again... that's when I started to feel a little uneasy.

I'm used to Sawyer being the little one you need to watch out for... not the big one who needs to be careful around the little one.

It appears we have entered a new dawn of parenting, folks. Discipline is starting to rear its ugly head, and I am at a complete loss. While I'm certain that Sawyer does indeed know what the word "no" means, he rarely, if ever listens. To be quite honest, most of the time when I tell him no, he smiles and does it again. I tell him no again. He does it again. I pull him away from said thing he isn't supposed to be doing/touching/whatever, he waits until I put my guard down and runs back to do it again. My guess is this is all pretty normal toddler behavior, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't shake my confidence just a tad.

Darn. Just when I had mastered the feeding/sleeping/clothing/taking care of basic needs bit of parenthood, now I have to add a new talent to my resume? Enforcer of rules. Teacher of proper behavior.
Wish me luck.

My Wild Man