We survived yesterday. Okay, what I mean is, I survived yesterday. Jackson, it seems, could care less. He had a great morning, got some quality booby time, got his fancypants changed (and by that I mean, his diaper and a fresh pair of footie pajamas), cooed happily on my bed while I put on some "in front of other people" clothes, and gurgled all the way to the school. He was grinning like a dummy when I left him there, while I was holding back tears until I was locked in my car. I did not want to drive away. But I did. I ran some errands before coming back home to start my first official day of work. I needed distraction. Walking past the baby aisles at le Target was not what I had in mind. More tears. More woe. I channeled all that misery into effort, mostly mindless and menial tasks. And now my office is the Cleanest Place on Earth.
And now for a whole lotta TMI. If you're a boob-man kind of girl, read on. If not, skip this post brought to you by the letters OW.
I had my first experience with pumping all day yesterday. Um. How did I not realize that the breast shield flanges might be too small? How did this escape my attention, even with only 1-2 pumping sessions a day until recently? Because OW GODDAMMIT. Nipple trauma, y'all, it's no joke. I ordered two larger sizes to try, and await my amazonian delivery with bated breath. And sore nips.
I also didn't pump nearly the volume I'd hoped for all my effort, which worries me. I have a meager stash in the freezer (started with 100 ounces and using some every day this week....) and need to at least make enough for the next day, if not enough to freeze some extra. Not happening right now. I'm pumping every 2-2.5 hours regardless of how much I get to try and get my supply up, so I need to stick with this plan for a couple more days to see if it worked. If not, I dunno. I don't want to use formula and worry about potential digestive issues. And I just don't want to, anyway, for general reasons. I should be able to do this, dammit. Of course, one unpleasant side effect of my increase in pumping lately, if the two are related, is that since I started pumping 2-3 times or more per day, nursing has become painful, mostly on one side. I may have caused a harder let-down reflex to occur, in turn causing the Milk Monster to nom-nom my nipple to clamp down on the flow. Yikes. Think about it. Just, yikes. I had a clogged duct that was on its way to mastitis a couple of weeks ago (Merry Christmas! Love, your dickhead ducts xoxo) and had to pump and nurse like mad to get rid of a milk blister and then empty the duct(s). Since then, ol' lefty has not been the same. I can empty after nursing or pumping, but the nipple still feels terrible. So you can imagine how good Jackson's nom-noms feel on said booby. Gah. Until my shiny new super-sized flanges arrive later this week (I could not justify spending twice the amount the things cost for expedited shipping, although maybe this would have been a great time for an exception), I am trying to turn down the suction and just pump longer. I got the same volume this morning doing it that way as before when was I cranking up the motor to move things along.
My nipples, they weep. Woe is them.
And, side note: the pumping volume thing makes me curious. If pumping all day is representative of how much milk the little guy is getting each time I nurse (as I'm pumping more or less on his usual nursing schedule, getting anywhere from 2-5 ounces total each time), and yet he is taking full 5-oz bottles on the same schedule, what gives? Was he starving before and too polite to say anything? Or is he being a little piggy with the bottles? Huh?
And as for how I'm feeling today about the whole letting-someone-else-care-for-my-son situation? Still tears this morning. But I feel better about it overall. He was happy and playful when I picked him up yesterday. He nursed and napped in my arms while I rocked him and told him I love him. Then KB came home, we played with him, and forced a little Torture Time, er, Tummy Time, on him until it was time for bed. He slept pretty well last night and woke up happy again. So I guess it's successful so far. I'm hoping each day will bring more confidence and less sadness when I drop him off.
But for now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to more mind-numbing work-related drivel and also (and more importantly) counting down the hours until I pick up my little monkey.