A Little Routine, A Little Not-So

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June 23, 2007 at 12:31 am

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Today was a study in contrasts. I resumed a bit of the routine, welcoming my parents back late this evening from their week-long Alaskan cruise and visiting with my brother who had the day off from work.

The not-so-routine included Justin having taken off from work today (he had hoped to fly, but the weather was not amenable to that) and seeing my first movie at a theatre since I was roughly 8 months pregnant. Seeing a movie when you’re exclusively breastfeeding is a little challenging, even if you aren’t comfortable nursing in public (which I sadly am not, even though it is my right to do so discreetly.) In our case, a movie date means leaving Sara with Grandma and Grandpa Moore for about 3 hours, accompanied by multiple bottles of frozen breastmilk, instructions on how to thaw it, and gentle admonitions to not thaw too many bottles, else some will invariably be wasted because the milk cannot be refrozen. It also means physical discomfort because the lactating mother’s body is used to feeding her little one at certain frequency, and when that milk isn’t removed from the breast through nursing or pumping it leads to painful engorgement. So, I literally cannot be away from Sara or a breastpump for more than about 3 hours without physical ramifications, and if you don’t remove that milk your body takes it as a sign to reduce your milk supply.

(Lactation is really an amazing biological process, and has really made me appreciate just how adapted women’s bodies are to growing and sustaining a child from conception to toddlerhood.)

I’m not a major milk producer by any means, so pumped breastmilk is sort of like liquid gold around here. I’m convinced the saying about “crying over spilled milk” had nothing to do with cow’s milk, and was in fact coined by a lactating female who’d just spilled her precious breastmilk, rendering it useless.

Anyway, we took Sara to Justin’s parents’ house near our home after a bit of a panic trying to find jumper cables to rescue my brother stranded about 20+ minutes from us (couldn’t find them; I think I must have left them in my old 1992 Toyota Corolla when we sold it.)

We arrived at Grandma and Grandpa Moore’s house harried and with just enough time to show them everything we had brought that they might need, including the three 4 oz. bottles of frozen breastmilk… better to have too much food than too little!

It takes me a full day of multiple pumping sessions in between nursing Sara to get just 4 oz. of breastmilk, so you can imagine how nutty one might be at the prospect of using up three 4 oz. bottles of mother’s milk just to see a feature length movie. Thankfully, Sara only required one bottle while we were at the movie, and she was a wonderful baby as always. It did feel good to share a feature length movie with Justin again after all this time (appropriately, we saw “Knocked Up!”) but it was also very good getting back and seeing Sara again. We missed her over the 3 hours we were away, and both sung our praises that I am able to stay home with her so we haven’t had to endure the awkward transition to daycare for a newborn.

I’m a little punchy since Sara and I got home quite late from welcoming Mom and Dad back home. It’s 1:32 AM and I’ll re-read this tomorrow and see if any of it even makes sense!

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Archives from One Year Ago —

2 Comments

June 24, 2007

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It would take a ‘mom’ to ponder the ““crying over spilled milk” colloquialism? Very interesting.

June 24, 2007

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I’m sure it has its basis in something far more pedestrian than even breastfeeding, but the saying definitely has a new meaning to me now that I am a mother and am, for now, the sole human being responsible for ensuring our daughter receives the nutrition she requires this first year of her life. My goal is to breastfeed her for 1 year, though I won’t beat myself up if it’s “only” 6 months. However, things are going so well I think we’ll have no problem reaching 1 year, at which time Sara will be well entrenched into eating (soft) solid foods.

Ask me again how I feel about the goal once she cuts her first tooth, though. I’m a realist, not a saint.

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