Browsing Tag

formula milk

pregnancy, the breast things in life are free

I (heart) my boobs

I just gotta state for the record that I’ve got TERRIFIC boobs. I didn’t say terrific-looking boobs so you can stop staring, thank you very much. They’re terrifically productive, and they’ve come a long way from the days of being nice-but-completely-useless. Not only have they matched the demand of my milk drinking machine, they have stepped up and far exceeded expectations by producing way more than needed. I’m up to 8 bottles of extras so I can go out galavanting for a whole day without worrying that she will starve to death.

I have waited for this day for so long that all I could do this morning was to open my fridge door and admire the milk bottles all lined up neatly in a row.

milk-bottles

Now that I’ve officially joined the league of milkmaids all around the world and I can heave a sigh of relief because it means I’m not a bad mother, I’ve gotta say that society these days are not kind to breasts. I mean, you don’t see any other body parts coming under such intense scrutiny, like “Oh, your little pinky can’t fit into your ear canal? That’s terrible and you’re now less of a human being.” Or “OMG your nose isn’t producing enough mucus? Maybe you should get a nose job.”

The moment i got preggers, it seemed the whole world was interested in my boobs. I had lactation consultants manhandling them and complete strangers asking if you was successful at breastfeeding. Even the old lady who lives next door had a detailed and mildly inappropriate conversation about them when she walked past and saw me expressing milk. Ok see, where I grew up, my breasts are no one else’s business but mine and NOBODY talks about them, much less touch them.

While I was stuck at the hospital for 27 hours, I was bombarded with tacky posters of how BREASTFEEDING IS THE ONLY WAY and the evil formula was going to make my baby self-destruct. Except that I already have a baby who survived on formula milk and he seems to be doing fine (fine being relative because he likes to eat dirt a lot, which might not be the case had I given him breast milk). But even then, I felt terribly guilty all the time for not being able to breastfeed him, like I was shortchanging him or something.

And the husband will tell you that I went through a completely irrational phase of blaming *everything* on formula. He catches a cold, it’s because of formula. Can’t sleep, formula. Can’t eat, also formula. For a while, I was beating myself up everyday for not feeding him the all-powerful breast milk.

It used to really get to me, especially when folks who found out I didn’t breastfeed him gave this sympathetic-but-it’s-all-your-fault look and proceeded to berate me on the benefits of breast milk. It took every ounce of my self control and then some to not stab them and feed them their own guts. I KNOW BREAST IS BEST (the person who came up with that cheesy line should be beheaded by the Dear Leader himself), but there was a time when they were broken and refused to work.

So you can understand why I’m so proud of the fact that they’re fixed and no longer spoilt. And why I’ve got to shout it from the rooftops, so everyone will stop asking me if I’m breastfeeding, and going on and on about why it’s the elixir of life.

PS. I know I said breast/boobs 12 times in this post and if you’re conservative about that sort of thing, BREAST BREAST BREAST BREAST BREAST.  For good measure.

motherhood

Got Milk!

milk

In a series of unrelated events over the past few days, my breastfeeding attempts have taken a whole new turn.

1. THERE IS MILK!

With Kirsten in the hospital for phototherapy treatment for 3 days, I’ve been faithfully drinking the nasty papaya fish soup which smells like a shoal of rotten fish that’s left to decay for a month. At first, everyone thought it was an exaggeration, until I offered $5 to the husband to try it. Suffice to say, the puke-inducing look totally made my day.

I’ve slso been expressing milk every 3 hours (even at night, which is a huge sacrifice). Yesterday, the milk finally decided to come in and even though I’ve only got 5 ml after 30 mins, it was enough reason for me to do a victory dance.

2. Kirsten has become a milk drinking machine.

I don’t know what it is about my kids and food, but they can sure eat a lot. I’ve come to terms with the fact that Tru is insatiable, but I wasn’t prepared that my baby girl would be one cute little  eating machine that would beat him hands down.

During the 3 days she was in the hospital, she’s been consuming 100 ml every 3 hours. When Tru was her age, he could barely finish 40 ml. Scary, I know.

3. The first successful latch on

After many tries and a lot of crying, I finally managed to get Kirsten to latch on. I lasted about 15 minutes per side before she got really agitated. Couldn’t really blame her since I’m producing less than 10% of her feeding requirements.

So right now the plan is to feed her directly from the breast for as long as I can and then supplement with formula. At this point, she still needs another 80 ml of formula to fill her little tummy. Hopefully at some point, I’ll be able to completely eliminate the bottle.

One step at a time.