the long haul.

so i lost my shit in the kitchen today, in front of my toddler, after a long and trying morning of trying to nurse a baby who was clearly not going to have any, despite more than 24 hours without food.  yelling. swearing, sobbing.  it was not pretty.  this has been an ugly week all around, and its frankly not sustainable.  so after a last ditch visit to an LC - who was very nice, but mostly just said I'm sorry - I have decided that I need to protect myself, not to mention poor Althea, from the fallout.  since it appears, on day 9, as though we are in this for the long haul, i need to make a plan that I can live with, and offering Iliana the breast all day long is not it.  in a lot of ways this feels like giving up, and that hurts my heart, but it's what i need to do at this point to maintain myself...my inner landscape is in shambles right now and i'm not prepared to keep it up.
so from here on out, i'm just going to offer the breast first thing in the morning, and at bedtime.  if she decides to come back, that will be great.  i'll keep pumping, but only to the point that it doesn't interfere with the rest of our lives...morning, nap and after bed.  if she needs more than that, she can have some formula or goat milk or something...we'll look into it.  this is my plan.  just having a plan feels a little bit better.  except for the part where i feel like i'm giving up.  that part feels shittier.

one thing that the LC we talked to today said that really made sense to me was that part of the reason that nursing strikes are so devastating is that they are the first time- as a parent- that you are confronted with the fact that all you can do, in your relationship with your child, is one sided.  you can be there.  you can say, i'm here for you, i love you, i'll always be here for you.  and they can say no. i don't care.  fuck off.  and there's NOTHING you can do about it, except repeat:  i'm here for you, i love you, i'll always be here for you.

additional thoughts.

parenting, in my experience, is one long string of second guessing yourself.  no one really knows what is the 'best' way to do any of it, so you more or less go along, doing the best you can, and hoping that you're not irreversibly fucking your kid up.  say your kid won't pick up their toys: do you power struggle about it? just pick the damn things up?  pick them up and throw them out?  or say they are fussing in their bed.  do you go in right away?  do you sleep with them?  do you let them fuss a little bit and THEN go in?  do you let them scream it out? there are like 87,456  options and NO ONE CAN TELL YOU WHAT IS BEST. it's highly alarming, to say the least.

 for me, up to this point, the only exception to this has been breastfeeding.  the ONE thing i could do for my kid where i was like, hey. i got this.  i am definitely doing it right.  boobs solve 100% of a baby's problems.  and, bonus points, it's super super good for them, and i could eat as much cake as i wanted and not get fat.  now, it's broke.  the only thing that i never questioned about my parenting has a goddamn flat tire, or dead battery, or something.  it doesn't work anymore.  and now i have to worry about the baby's diet.  i hate this.

additionally i am starting to get angry.  when i spend 25 minutes pumping, and 10 minutes cleaning all the stupid tiny pump parts, and then the baby STILL NEEDS TO EAT, so then i spend 15 minutes giving her a damn bottle, i'm like this is the SAME thing that comes out of my boobs.  only with approximatelly 17 times more labor.  and its making me mad.

these are my thoughts on day 7.

the hardest thing...

My darling, darling baby.  5 days ago you woke up at 6:30 and I blearily carried you out into the living room, plunked down on the couch, and latched you onto my full breast.  I remember you fussing a bit, and then settling down to business, just as you had approximately every 3 hours since the day you were born, 9 months ago.  If I had known it was going to be the last time, I would have paid more attention.  I would have been smelling your hair, and stroking your cheek, and savoring every second of what is beyond a doubt the most intense, emotional, beautiful relationship I have ever known: the one between a nursing pair.  But I didn't know.  Would never have guessed.  So I can't remember whether your eyes were open, or shut.  I can't remember if you were patting my chest, or pulling my hair.  I don't. remember.

Since then I have tried every thing I can think of...ridiculous, far fetched, long shots in the dark.  I'm not ready for you to be done.  You're supposed to be my baby still, and this?  this feels like you're breaking up with me.  I'm like a love-sick 15 year old...all I do is cry and eat way too much ice-cream.
I cried when your big sister weaned herself.  at twice your age.  gradually, over the course of 2 entire months.  But you?  You came at me out of nowhere with this. blindsided me. as if someone who previously had done nothing but kiss me suddenly and without warning punched me in the gut, knocking all the wind out of my body and leaving me gasping for breath, wondering what the hell just happened.  I told your papa, it feels like someone died.

Maybe I could start feeling better if I gave up.  Said, OK, I guess she's done, and went with that.  I could acclimate to the new normal.  But I don't really believe that's what you want.  So I'm struggling here, baby.  Struggling, day after day (and maybe 5 days doesn't seem so long, to you.  but its been en eternity already) to believe that you are coming back to me.  To keep offering, even when you keep biting.  To keep pumping, even when you are crying for me to hold you instead and Althea is tearing apart the kitchen.  To keep hope alive.  I'm not ready to give it up quite yet.  But its the hardest thing.

basically, my kid never shuts up.

food/ eating words:
queso   cheese
pizza
pasta
tenedor
cuchara
cuchillo
plato
vaso
taza
frutas
rico
fresas  strawberries
arandanos  blueberries
manzana  apple
naranja
toronja
banana
tomates
pollo
arroz
frijoles
avena
bunnies
galletas  crackers
"cacayoni" (macaroni)
yogur
helado
mango
higo
vitamina
trail mix
arvejas
comer
acabas  all gone
silla   chair
mesa
sucio  dirty
limpia
lava  wash
sed  thirsty
hambre  hungry
refrigerador
piso
mojado
babero  bib
cocina  kitchen

body parts:

cabeza   head
ojos  eyes
nariz  nose
orejas
cejas
lengua
boca
dientes
mejillas
barba
barbilla
cuello
panza
pecho
espalda
manos  hands
dedos
un~as
piernas
pies  foot
pelo hair
cabeza head

animals:
gato  kitty
perro  doggy
pez  fish
conejo
raton
vaca
caballo
cabra  goat
oveja
chancho  piggie
pato
pajaro
buho
cuervo
gallina
pollito
leon
tigre
puma
girafa
tortuga
foca
ballena
delfin
pulpo
tiburon
pinguino
loro
mariquita
rana
morsa

outdoor words:
parque  park
afuera  outside
frio   cold
arbol
calle
carro
truck
bus
carrito
tobogan
escalera
columpio  swings
sol
luna
estrellas

action words:
arriba  up
abajo  down
corre
gateando
bailar
dibujar
pintar
leer  read

toys:
baby
biberon
puzzles
bloques
pinturas
tiza
musica
libros  books
tren
manta  blanket
canasta
comidas
cortar
juguetes toys

clothes:
quitar  off
poner
camisa
pantalones
calcetines  sock
zapatos   shoes
botas
babylegs (HA)
sueter
chamarra
gorra  hat
bufanda
guantes  mittens
gafas  glasses
lentes
pan~alito  diaper

other:
ban~o
burbujas
cuidado
da vuelta
jump
198 words that i can think of off the top of my head.

songs:
twinkle twinkle
rock a bye
are you sleeping
row row row your boat
skip to my lou
abcs

so. many. words.

just for fun, a list of all the words Althea said to me this morning, between 5:30 and 9:30 am.

pizza
I have it
huevo
helado
yogur
silla
hambre
pulpo
caja
outside
push
dientes
chancho
vaca
ombligo
book
rana
thea
fen
lulu
shhhhhh
cansada
ba~no
giggle
gato
window
suave
thank you
oyes
ayuda
baby
se acabo'
button
banano
su'eter
calcetin
estrellas
luna
bye-bye
cafe
buho
eyes
fish
avena
gorra
no
si
ok
ojos
zip
gracias
manta
binkie
abre
leche
mas
more
sucio
bloques
i see you
agua
crema
piso
all gone
sala
julie
cama
phone
arriba
peek a boo

70.  in about 4 hours.  blabber mouth.

this blog is your baby book.

sorry sweetie, but this is it.
so i wanted to record that you took your first steps today.  one two three, from holding onto me you let go and walked right over to your little train table.
3 days shy of your first birthday.  so when later, i can't remember when, i will have this record of it.  providing the internet still exists.
congrats peanut.

communication!

Althea can sign the following things:
more
milk
all done
water

but the one she loves the most is 'milk'.  and she does NOT mean in a sippy cup, just so we are clear.  she means 'get your boobies out mama, get them out'.  And she does it in the most sincere way, looking into my eyes, squeezing her little fist oh-so-deliberately, like 'look at me, i can tell you what i want.  i want your boobies.'.
and i want to teach her that communicating is good, and that signing (and talking) are a way to tell others what you want, without shrieking.
however.
by my estimate, Althea signed 'milk' to me AT LEAST 50 times today.  she is drunk with the power of the milk sign.  "you mean, anytime i squeeze my little fist, mama will let me nurse?!?!?!  FAN.TAS.TIC!"

help me.  help my poor, sad, nipples.  why did I think this was a good idea?  we probably should not have taught her to communicate.