I'd be lying if I said that the transition from being cheerfully childless to motherhood has been a smooth one. My life is so radically different that is almost as if I woke up in an alternate universe.
I really loved the life I had before. I loved being able to pick up and go somewhere on a moment's notice. Loved the freedom to take a course or sit and write or stay up all night hanging out with friends. I had a few lovers, each unique and wonderful, each aware of each other and my love of them all. Even with death and dying in my family, such heavy subjects, I felt a lightness of being. I felt free from all the constraints I'd placed on myself over the years. I'd finally grown up and become fully me. And then my female best friend goaded me into recognizing that I'd fallen in love with M and accepting his invitation to move in with him. He supported me after my grandfather's death. We traveled. I supported him through a grueling start-up. We bought a house. And then I got pregnant out of the blue.
Yes, I miss my old life. I'm giving myself permission to miss it, and to come to terms with the changes and the challenges.
The loss of my independence has been the most difficult to adapt to. It would probably be easier if M and I had family closer by, or if I had more friends in the area, because I could call on them to spot me for things like doctor appointments or haircuts or shopping. As it is, I have to pack the Little Man up and bring him everywhere I go. It can be an ordeal even if it's just to go weed outside. I find it damned inconvenient that I can't just climb up onto a ladder to clear the gutters or empty the dishwasher or take a shower without having to make some sort of provision for my son, especially now that he is crawling around and has figured out how to open cabinets and drawers. And really, there's nothing relaxing about showering listening to a baby howl with displeasure because he's trapped in a walker or a bouncer or otherwise restricted in movement. At best, I get to shower every other day. Any longer than that and the smell of baby puke and sour milk and my own body gets to me.
I miss being able to focus on myself. Before I got pregnant, I was determined to get down to a normal weight range and I made good progress. In having a baby at my age I made a further commitment to being healthy and fit. I'm down 100 pounds in the past 2.5 years. I really want to drop another 30 pounds but I've hit a plateau and my visits to the gym are too infrequent. I try working out at home but the Little Man either wants to participate or wander off. It's rather difficult to monitor him while tying to make sure I don't pull a muscle or otherwise injure myself due to inattentiveness. My doctor says I've done amazingly well and I should focus on maintenance more than further weight loss. He says he's concerned that my focus on dropping more weight will become sabotaging if I get too discouraged. Meanwhile, I'm fighting this near-constant "I'm hungry" feeling that the doc says to feed with warm water. I'm almost chronically under-hydrated since I started breast-feeding, and even after my milk dried up I still struggle to drink enough water -- I'm just too busy playing mommy.
The changes that pregnancy and childbirth have wrought on my body have mostly been awful. My body still doesn't feel like it belongs to me. I often find myself walking funny because there is a cramp in my pelvic area, usually the hip-flexor muscle, I think. My ass aches when I get up after sitting for a while. My lower abdominal muscles, while never particularly strong, seem to resist my efforts to tone them up--from the waist down I feel gelatinous. I'm ok with the changes to my breasts and nipples. I actually like them more, with the weightloss and the changes from pregnancy and lactation -- they are less lumpy than they used to be, and I'm fortunate that I didn't experience mastitis or thrush. The acid reflux and the intestinal spasms have been agonizing. Since I'm not lactating anymore I switched from Tagamet to Prilosec and it's made a world of difference. Now there is occasional discomfort rather than a constant mid-level discomfort that ramped up to must-go-vomit-stomach-acid-now a few times a week, often a few times a day.
But before I sound too much like some whiny, ungrateful, unfit mother, I should say that I love my new life, too. I love the home I've made for the three of us. I'm happy here, even if I do miss my friends. I've got my patch of dirt to dig in and grow things. I am grateful that M's brilliant mind, which is what initially attracted me to him, is also attractive to so many companies here in Silicon Valley. He makes a good living and we try to live modestly on his income so we can still put money aside. Yes, I'm itching to take some courses and get myself marketable again so I can feel less dependent, but that will have to wait another year or so. I really enjoy his company and he enjoys mine. We talk to each other often, we snuggle when the baby's needs allow, and we both agree that having a baby together has made our bond deeper.
And our son! Wow, what an amazing little guy. Yes, he's teething right now and I really want to run screaming from the house after his nth meltdown, but he's got this wonderful smile and even when he's crying he tries to smile for me sometimes. He's developing so fast and he's becoming his own little person and even as I struggle not to create habits in him I'll regret later, I can't help but scoop him up and love on him. He has so much joy in him and I'm loving experiencing the world from his perspective. I'm experiencing an aspect of life that I'd never thought I would (parenthood) and while it's definitely a mixed bag, I've no regrets. I'm trying to be mindful of what I feed him, trying to keep his chemical-load to a minimum. I'm thinking about what stories I read him and what television programs he sees so I'm aware of what social and cultural norms are being passed on to him. I'm trying to create a safe space for him to grow into the person he wants to be --whatever that looks like. And seeing what a fine job some of my friends have done with their own children, I've got some good role-models and sources of of moral support.
Showing posts with label breastfeeding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label breastfeeding. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Today's one of those PJ days
It's official: I'm one of those new moms who spends the entire day wearing pajamas at least once a week. I do get to shower at least every other day though, and now that the Little Man can hold his head up and he's tall enough to be in his walker, I get to brush my teeth all in one go every day.
I'm extremely fortunate that Little Man is an easy baby. I'm hoping we will continue to be so, but I'm not counting on it. He wakes up all smiles in the morning and he's mostly a fuss-free baby for the rest of the day. That said, he's prone to what I call power-naps (under 30 mins) and is very alert and talkative, so I don't get much opportunity to nap during the day. However, I'm able to get a 4 to 5 hour stretch of uninterrupted sleep each night, which is a blessing.
I'm still pumping milk every 3.5 to 4 hours (except for that 5 hour stretch at night) and Little Man is still downing nearly 30 ounces of milk each day. Every once in a while I have to open a bottle of formula, but mostly, my supply is keeping up with his demand. I'm actually grateful that he isn't nursing. I miss the intimacy of it, but bottle-feeding is pretty convenient in that 1) someone else can spot me in feeding the baby on occasion, 2) I'm not getting mastitis and Little Man isn't getting thrush and 3) bottle-feeding takes less time than breast-feeding. Little Man didn't like my low-flow nipples -- he wanted his milk NOW -- which is why he refused to transition back to my breast. He'll down 4 ounces of milk in under 10 minutes, rather than 45 minutes, which means we both get to sleep sooner and I am not sore from having to hold him to my breast. Pumping is taking 5 to 10 minutes, and I'd still be pumping even if I he was on the tit, so, really, I'm getting back 30 minutes of my life 5 or 6 times a day. That's three hours. That's an eternity in new-mommy time.
What else? The quest to start baby-proofing has begun now that little man is starting to squirm around on his belly. The first thing to tackle is the home entertainment unit. I've had nightmares about the baby teething on the wires and drooling into all those electronics with their pretty lights. After months of searching I found a TV console that will hold the DVR, the PS3, the Wii, the Nintendo, the home theater PC, the gigabit switch, the Denon receiver, and all associated handsets and remotes. It's supposed to be delivered next week, as is the new Klipsch speaker that will just fit into the cabinet drawer specially designed to house center channel speakers. I'm looking forward to all the wires disappearing. I've worked hard at ignoring them for over a year now. The irony is that we have a data closet with a NAS server and all the equipment for the internet and TV services in it, and we completely wired the house with ethernet, cable, and TV in every room -- but we've still got wires everywhere in the family room. Go figure ;)
We're in the process of re-financing the house because rates have dropped so low. It's a bit of a hassle, but a point is a point and that adds up to tens of thousands of dollars over the long run. The good news is that the house was appraised at 15% higher than what we bought it for 18 months ago, so we've gotten great value for all of the improvements we've done. We've got just one more. We're replacing the 30+ year old perimeter fence next month and then we're done for a while. M promised :)
The GERD situation is slowly improving. The upper GI test didn't show anything unusual other than slower-than-usual movement through the esophagus due to edema -- the stomach acid has caused a fair amount of irritation and swelling. It's still weird to me that I didn't experience heartburn during the pregnancy but I'm getting it now. All that weird post-pregnancy body-change stuff.
It looks like the little guy is waking up from his nap, so it's time to end this post. Thanks for reading.
I'm extremely fortunate that Little Man is an easy baby. I'm hoping we will continue to be so, but I'm not counting on it. He wakes up all smiles in the morning and he's mostly a fuss-free baby for the rest of the day. That said, he's prone to what I call power-naps (under 30 mins) and is very alert and talkative, so I don't get much opportunity to nap during the day. However, I'm able to get a 4 to 5 hour stretch of uninterrupted sleep each night, which is a blessing.
I'm still pumping milk every 3.5 to 4 hours (except for that 5 hour stretch at night) and Little Man is still downing nearly 30 ounces of milk each day. Every once in a while I have to open a bottle of formula, but mostly, my supply is keeping up with his demand. I'm actually grateful that he isn't nursing. I miss the intimacy of it, but bottle-feeding is pretty convenient in that 1) someone else can spot me in feeding the baby on occasion, 2) I'm not getting mastitis and Little Man isn't getting thrush and 3) bottle-feeding takes less time than breast-feeding. Little Man didn't like my low-flow nipples -- he wanted his milk NOW -- which is why he refused to transition back to my breast. He'll down 4 ounces of milk in under 10 minutes, rather than 45 minutes, which means we both get to sleep sooner and I am not sore from having to hold him to my breast. Pumping is taking 5 to 10 minutes, and I'd still be pumping even if I he was on the tit, so, really, I'm getting back 30 minutes of my life 5 or 6 times a day. That's three hours. That's an eternity in new-mommy time.
What else? The quest to start baby-proofing has begun now that little man is starting to squirm around on his belly. The first thing to tackle is the home entertainment unit. I've had nightmares about the baby teething on the wires and drooling into all those electronics with their pretty lights. After months of searching I found a TV console that will hold the DVR, the PS3, the Wii, the Nintendo, the home theater PC, the gigabit switch, the Denon receiver, and all associated handsets and remotes. It's supposed to be delivered next week, as is the new Klipsch speaker that will just fit into the cabinet drawer specially designed to house center channel speakers. I'm looking forward to all the wires disappearing. I've worked hard at ignoring them for over a year now. The irony is that we have a data closet with a NAS server and all the equipment for the internet and TV services in it, and we completely wired the house with ethernet, cable, and TV in every room -- but we've still got wires everywhere in the family room. Go figure ;)
We're in the process of re-financing the house because rates have dropped so low. It's a bit of a hassle, but a point is a point and that adds up to tens of thousands of dollars over the long run. The good news is that the house was appraised at 15% higher than what we bought it for 18 months ago, so we've gotten great value for all of the improvements we've done. We've got just one more. We're replacing the 30+ year old perimeter fence next month and then we're done for a while. M promised :)
The GERD situation is slowly improving. The upper GI test didn't show anything unusual other than slower-than-usual movement through the esophagus due to edema -- the stomach acid has caused a fair amount of irritation and swelling. It's still weird to me that I didn't experience heartburn during the pregnancy but I'm getting it now. All that weird post-pregnancy body-change stuff.
It looks like the little guy is waking up from his nap, so it's time to end this post. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Miscellany
My mornings used to be my own. I used to have a few hours to myself between the time I awakened and the time M woke up. Not any more. Though I don't mind, most days, because I wake up to a smiling baby boy. When he sees me looking at him he lights up with a big toothless grin. Sometimes he even coos. It's impossible to mind waking up to that :)
Little Man seems to be done with his growth spurt and I'm able to keep up with him milk supply-wise. I haven't needed to supplement with formula for a couple of weeks, and I've actually been able to freeze about 3 ounces of breastmilk a day. He is looking more and more like his father now, and he's growing into his (my) nose. In addition to inheriting my nose and feet, he seems to have gotten my light-sensitive eyes, poor thing.
He handled being passed around to a dozen different people pretty well at the party this weekend. M and I both were concerned that he might be overwhelmed by all the attention and handling, but he seemed to enjoy it. We might have an extrovert on our hands, instead of an introvert, like us. The jury is still out on handedness. I hope Little Man is a lefty like us just so it is easier for us to teach him to write and whatnot. I remember how difficult things were for me given that my parents were both right handed. M actually does a lot of things right-handed because that was the only way he could learn from right-handers, whereas my paternal grandfather was a leftie and taught me how to hold my pencil and fork, etc, and my mother fought the schools to keep me left-handed. My father's family has a strong left-handed streak, and a lot of people in the older generations stammer when they speak as a result of being 'thwarted' and forced to become right-handed, my father included.
Yesterday a friend of mine from Portland had a layover at SFO so I got a chance to see her and her daughter. We talked about the need to find a woman friend or two with infants to provide support and commiseration -- and my somewhat misogynistic tendencies. My misogyny is surprising to people who know that I attended a women's college and have dated women -- until I clarify. I don't dislike women -- I dislike the lowest-common denominator level that so many women sink to. Having gone to college with over 3000 brilliant women, I know what women can be -- and it annoys me no end to see what women resign themselves to being. I'm just not good at relating to a lot of the concerns that occupy so many women: I'm not into appearances, so swapping stories on clothes shopping, makeup and hair styling flat out bore me. I'm not a wanter. I despise shopping in general and conspicuous consumption in particular. I prefer simplicity and an uncluttered life. I'd rather have a meaningful conversation about what's going on in the world than gossip about movie stars and neighbors. And I don't play the woman-games -- I don't do the passive-aggressive competitor-co-dependent friendships most women seem to perpetuate with each other. I'm animus-dominant, and while I've definitely given my anima room to grow this past decade, I accept that I'm always going to prefer the company of men or masculine-minded women. Thus, finding women I can connect with is difficult enough without adding criteria like new-mom and over-Forty. But I'm not giving up :)
On this 'unintentional mother' blog I've mostly avoided mentioning the things that occupy my thoughts that seem unrelated to the topic. But politics and the environment and technology impact today and tomorrow -- they impact the world my son will inherit. M and I are looking at buying an electric car and putting solar panels up on the house. We're trying to reduce the amount of waste we produce by reducing consumption. We're following the breakthroughs in battery technology and alternative energy. And medicine. It would be lovely if my son came of age in an era in which a cancer diagnosis was not a tragedy, and diseases like malaria and cholera are no longer endemic to Third World. I have hopes that we'll revolutionize education so that young people will be able to learn and retain what they need to in order to take over for the technology priesthood and further the interests of humanity by evolving their thinking. I have hopes, but there are days when the omens and portents point to a dark future and a dying planet, and even my eternal optimism and sunny nature are no match for it. I have a dread that one day that my son will tell me he wishes he'd never been born into such a mess of a world. So I'm doing what I can to make it a better place, bit by bit, neighbor by neighbor, street by street. I'm Being Love, but I know I can try harder. I know I have to. There is too much at stake.
Little Man seems to be done with his growth spurt and I'm able to keep up with him milk supply-wise. I haven't needed to supplement with formula for a couple of weeks, and I've actually been able to freeze about 3 ounces of breastmilk a day. He is looking more and more like his father now, and he's growing into his (my) nose. In addition to inheriting my nose and feet, he seems to have gotten my light-sensitive eyes, poor thing.
He handled being passed around to a dozen different people pretty well at the party this weekend. M and I both were concerned that he might be overwhelmed by all the attention and handling, but he seemed to enjoy it. We might have an extrovert on our hands, instead of an introvert, like us. The jury is still out on handedness. I hope Little Man is a lefty like us just so it is easier for us to teach him to write and whatnot. I remember how difficult things were for me given that my parents were both right handed. M actually does a lot of things right-handed because that was the only way he could learn from right-handers, whereas my paternal grandfather was a leftie and taught me how to hold my pencil and fork, etc, and my mother fought the schools to keep me left-handed. My father's family has a strong left-handed streak, and a lot of people in the older generations stammer when they speak as a result of being 'thwarted' and forced to become right-handed, my father included.
Yesterday a friend of mine from Portland had a layover at SFO so I got a chance to see her and her daughter. We talked about the need to find a woman friend or two with infants to provide support and commiseration -- and my somewhat misogynistic tendencies. My misogyny is surprising to people who know that I attended a women's college and have dated women -- until I clarify. I don't dislike women -- I dislike the lowest-common denominator level that so many women sink to. Having gone to college with over 3000 brilliant women, I know what women can be -- and it annoys me no end to see what women resign themselves to being. I'm just not good at relating to a lot of the concerns that occupy so many women: I'm not into appearances, so swapping stories on clothes shopping, makeup and hair styling flat out bore me. I'm not a wanter. I despise shopping in general and conspicuous consumption in particular. I prefer simplicity and an uncluttered life. I'd rather have a meaningful conversation about what's going on in the world than gossip about movie stars and neighbors. And I don't play the woman-games -- I don't do the passive-aggressive competitor-co-dependent friendships most women seem to perpetuate with each other. I'm animus-dominant, and while I've definitely given my anima room to grow this past decade, I accept that I'm always going to prefer the company of men or masculine-minded women. Thus, finding women I can connect with is difficult enough without adding criteria like new-mom and over-Forty. But I'm not giving up :)
On this 'unintentional mother' blog I've mostly avoided mentioning the things that occupy my thoughts that seem unrelated to the topic. But politics and the environment and technology impact today and tomorrow -- they impact the world my son will inherit. M and I are looking at buying an electric car and putting solar panels up on the house. We're trying to reduce the amount of waste we produce by reducing consumption. We're following the breakthroughs in battery technology and alternative energy. And medicine. It would be lovely if my son came of age in an era in which a cancer diagnosis was not a tragedy, and diseases like malaria and cholera are no longer endemic to Third World. I have hopes that we'll revolutionize education so that young people will be able to learn and retain what they need to in order to take over for the technology priesthood and further the interests of humanity by evolving their thinking. I have hopes, but there are days when the omens and portents point to a dark future and a dying planet, and even my eternal optimism and sunny nature are no match for it. I have a dread that one day that my son will tell me he wishes he'd never been born into such a mess of a world. So I'm doing what I can to make it a better place, bit by bit, neighbor by neighbor, street by street. I'm Being Love, but I know I can try harder. I know I have to. There is too much at stake.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
He's a charmer
Little Man is really developing a sunny personality. He's almost always smiling and cooing when he's awake. I'm finding him more interesting now that he's more interactive. Newborns are time-intensive, but monotonous, to care for. He seems to respond well to strangers -- and strangers to him. We were at Home Depot at 6am yesterday (what else is open at 6am?) scouting out plants (I picked up an arabian jasmine and a kaffir lily, both in bloom) and I was surprised by how many men were charmed by him.
In a couple of hours Little Man will be meeting his great aunties on his father's side of the family. M is looking forward to showing them the house and all the work we've done on it the past year. Hopefully they'll be able to see past the patches of messiness here and there. I didn't get a chance to tackle the floors like I wanted to -- I spent most of my free time the past two days cleaning up a mess the older cat made on the hardwood floor in the office. Grr. Any way, M is certain The Aunts are going to fall in love with Little Man. It will be interesting to see how it all goes.
Still no go on the nursing front. I've given up. We picked up a double-breast pump on Craig's List and I'm feeding him breastmilk via bottle. I do miss the way breastfeeding feels -- it's incredibly intimate and pleasurable and an amazing bonding experience.
Now that I'm pretty much recovered from childbirth (I still haves some lingering stiffness in the pelvic region) I'm feeling restless. When I'm not exhausted, that is :) There are things I want to do, and with the baby, they're just not an option anymore. No more writer's groups, Ruby Tuesday geek girl meetups, college alumnae meetings, photography expeditions, or visits to the gym. Not during the day, anyway. Little Man is still too young to leave with his father for more than 30 minutes or so. He seems to have this radar that wakes him up when I leave the house without him, and then he gets a little agitated when The Mama doesn't appear. When he's a little older, I'll have to look for meaningful social opportunities that involve other mothers and infants/toddlers -- something that is rather outside my experience. As an unintentional mother, I've never found babies all that interesting, and I confess that the conversations between my previously childless self and parents of young children were only marginally more interesting than their little kids. I'm definitely feeling the pressure of a paradigm shift.
In the meantime, I've been exploring the neighborhood on foot with an eye for future activities. There is a Shaolin Cultural Center a few blocks away that teaches a few of the forms of wushu (Chinese martial arts) as well as Mandarin language and culture. They offer classes for kids starting at age 4. There is also a kuk sool won school here in town, and the Buddhist temple nearby offers tai chi, hula, and bon odori dance practice. I also found out they have a Cub Scouts troop there, but given the recent decision by the organization to formally exclude gay boys and leaders, I doubt the Little Man will be a member. I've also found a Safari Run playland a few blocks away, in addition to the Junior Gym and the Kumon learning center over on B Street. The Martin Luther King Center offers lots of family activities, including swimming classes in the summer, and there are lots of parks in walking distance. All-in-all, this is a good neighborhood to raise a family in. That wasn't what I had in mind when I first noticed the house for sale -- I was more interested in walkability / proximity to Downtown and cultural diversity -- but it is going to work out well since I'm not going to be car-dependent and trapped in the suburbs.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Breast v. Bottle -- and 6 weeks of heartburn
Little Man isn't nursing. He doesn't want to nurse. He's made it abundantly clear that he finds nursing too much work / too frustrating compared to bottle-feeding. I've seen the lactation consultant three times and I've got nipple shields and gravity-feed mini-tubing, and he's fine with them as long as he gets his milk straight away -- if there are any delays or kinks he pitches a fit. I'm trying to decide if messing with all this paraphernalia in hopes of getting him back on the breast is worth it. Admittedly, pumping 30oz of milk a day is a hassle, and the thought needing to pump for a couple of years is unexciting to say the least. The need to have a bottle ready in the wee hours, instead of just popping a nipple in his mouth so we can both get back to sleep, is disappointing. On the other hand, we're avoiding thrush and some of the other problems that go with nursing, and given my extreme sensitivity, that is something to be very happy about. In my observation, children that have been nursed for several months tend to be very secure -- they don't suffer from separation anxiety, etc -- so I've been trying to hold Little Man the way I would if he was nursing, rather than just propping him up and popping a bottle in his mouth (which I admit to doing sometimes).
I've been having problems with heartburn since we got home from the hospital -- even acid reflux and night coughing -- which is completely foreign to me. I've got (had) an iron stomach and now quite a lot of food isn't agreeing with me (yogurt, most dairy, sometimes eggs, most meats, fruits, juices, coffee, breads, etc). I've had to go buy protein drinks and protein bars to try to keep my intake up because I'm dropping 3 to 4 pounds a week and I'm concerned about the impact on my breastmilk supply. Even pumping ~30oz a day I'm having to supplement with 4 to 8 oz of formula a day for the past week. I'm hoping it's just because of the 5-6 week growth spurt I've heard about. I'm on a 14-day course of Prilosec to see if that eliminates the heartburn problem. Meanwhile I'm enjoying eating low-acid foods (like ice cream). I'll take any calories I can get right now.
Little Man's father went back to work today. I liked having him at home -- I really enjoy his company -- but it will be good to get into a routine during the week. Starting Monday.
Monday, July 2, 2012
One Month Old
Little Man has been with us a month now, and wow, what a month!
It's amazing how quickly M and I have adapted our lives to the extreme changes that come with having a baby around 24/7. And amazing how much we haven't had to change.
Dining out, for now anyway, is still feasible. So is going to the movies. Sleep has become a luxury, though I know I'm getting more than a lot of new parents do. Little Man sleeps for a 4 hour stretch most nights. Keeping up with the house-work is a little more challenging, especially while M is home on paternity leave. Let's just say that he is getting a LOT more sleep than I am, often until nearly noon, and as a courtesy I avoid doing things like running the vacuum and other appliances until he is awake. At which point the noise bothers him. Ah well. A couple more weeks and he'll be back at work. And then all the family on his side will be coming to visit.
I'm finding that there are conveniences to bottle-feeding Little Man, but for the most part, I'm trying not to regret giving him the bottle, since he no longer wants to latch on to my breast. Too much work to get that milk, I think. I'm pumping about 30 ounces of milk a day and he's drinking nearly all of it, the little glutton. He's gained two pounds his first month of life, so he's less wrinkled. His cheeks are looking chubby and his thighs are filling-out, but he does not yet exhibit the rolls of fat that are characteristic of breast-fed babies.
He's less of a baby-blob than I thought he'd be. Past experiences with other infants lead me to believe that he'd mostly sleep when he wasn't eating, but Little Man is often alert and active for hours at a time. He surprised me on our first night with his ability to lift his head and shoulders, and as each day goes by, he gets stronger and stronger. He uses his hands to grip my clothes and uses his little legs to push himself as he climbs up my torso to reposition himself. Sometimes he likes being low on my belly, while at others, he wants to rest his forehead against my collarbone. He's also learning to mimic facial expressions. M has taught him how to stick out his tongue and make fish-lips. He's also starting to smile more and make noises, starting to experiment with his voice.
He's often enraptured by his father. M has a wonderful voice, and Little Man will turn to look at him, his eyes wide. M often unbuttons his shirts and puts the baby on his chest, especially when Little Man is being fussy and nothing I do settles him down. It's a heart-warming picture -- father and son enjoying a skin-on-skin interlude.
My body is mostly back to normal. The swelling in my feet is gone, and the tingling in my fingers, as well. The bulk of the bleeding stopped around day 20, and the lochia has been very light since then, though I've noticed a little bit of spotting again, the past couple of days. I've been walking a mile+ most days, some of them pushing Little Man in his pram, others wearing him in the Baby Bjorn. After half a mile of carrying him, it's definitely more of a workout. I've resumed most of my normal activities with the exception of heavy-lifting and other forms of exercise that put strain on the abdominal area. I don't want any hernias or other complications from over-exerting. So painting and power tools and gardening, yes, but no resistance-band training yet.
Motherhood seems to agree with me. My neighbors have commented that I seem to have un-aged a decade or two. Looking in the mirror, I do notice that something is different. I'm 44 and I have no wrinkles. Very little gray hair. My skin looks great (must be all that coco butter cream I'm slathering on after I shower) and the odd blemishes that appeared during pregnancy have completely cleared up. Breastfeeding is taking a fair amount of weight off of me, so much in fact that I'm meeting with a dietician/nutritionist today to see what I can do about that. I don't mind dropping a pound a week, but 4 pounds a week is just too fast, and I'm worried about endangering my milk supply. As it is, I've pulled sorted through the bin of 'someday' clothes in my closet, only to realize that I've dropped two to three dress sizes since last summer and there is very little that fits properly. Washing everything in hot water and drying on high has helped shrink some stuff up, and while I can still wear a lot of my shirts with my breasts ballooned to DD/F territory, even the smallest skirts and pants in my closet hang down around my hips. I suppose I'm going to have to bite the bullet and do some clothes shopping some day soon. Grr. I hate shopping.
I admit to being a bit tired, and on the rare night that Little Man is fussy, I struggle under the pall of exhaustion and irritability. I've awakened M a couple of times and handed the baby over to him when I'm at wit's end, though I try not to. M functions on 8 hours of sleep but needs 10. Less than 10 hours, or interrupted sleep, and he ends up with a headache all day, so I take care of the baby every night. M often takes over when he gets up, so I can nap for a few hours. I am already longing for the day that Little Man can speak his needs so it is easier to meet them.
Little Man is adorable when he's sleeping, and when he snuggles up against me and his breath puffs against my skin, all is right in the world. Everything slows down. Time simultaneously stops and flies. My world narrows down to the confines of our home and the peace and love that exists within it. And I think that is as it should be. Yes. It is as it should be.
It's amazing how quickly M and I have adapted our lives to the extreme changes that come with having a baby around 24/7. And amazing how much we haven't had to change.
Dining out, for now anyway, is still feasible. So is going to the movies. Sleep has become a luxury, though I know I'm getting more than a lot of new parents do. Little Man sleeps for a 4 hour stretch most nights. Keeping up with the house-work is a little more challenging, especially while M is home on paternity leave. Let's just say that he is getting a LOT more sleep than I am, often until nearly noon, and as a courtesy I avoid doing things like running the vacuum and other appliances until he is awake. At which point the noise bothers him. Ah well. A couple more weeks and he'll be back at work. And then all the family on his side will be coming to visit.
I'm finding that there are conveniences to bottle-feeding Little Man, but for the most part, I'm trying not to regret giving him the bottle, since he no longer wants to latch on to my breast. Too much work to get that milk, I think. I'm pumping about 30 ounces of milk a day and he's drinking nearly all of it, the little glutton. He's gained two pounds his first month of life, so he's less wrinkled. His cheeks are looking chubby and his thighs are filling-out, but he does not yet exhibit the rolls of fat that are characteristic of breast-fed babies.
He's less of a baby-blob than I thought he'd be. Past experiences with other infants lead me to believe that he'd mostly sleep when he wasn't eating, but Little Man is often alert and active for hours at a time. He surprised me on our first night with his ability to lift his head and shoulders, and as each day goes by, he gets stronger and stronger. He uses his hands to grip my clothes and uses his little legs to push himself as he climbs up my torso to reposition himself. Sometimes he likes being low on my belly, while at others, he wants to rest his forehead against my collarbone. He's also learning to mimic facial expressions. M has taught him how to stick out his tongue and make fish-lips. He's also starting to smile more and make noises, starting to experiment with his voice.
He's often enraptured by his father. M has a wonderful voice, and Little Man will turn to look at him, his eyes wide. M often unbuttons his shirts and puts the baby on his chest, especially when Little Man is being fussy and nothing I do settles him down. It's a heart-warming picture -- father and son enjoying a skin-on-skin interlude.
My body is mostly back to normal. The swelling in my feet is gone, and the tingling in my fingers, as well. The bulk of the bleeding stopped around day 20, and the lochia has been very light since then, though I've noticed a little bit of spotting again, the past couple of days. I've been walking a mile+ most days, some of them pushing Little Man in his pram, others wearing him in the Baby Bjorn. After half a mile of carrying him, it's definitely more of a workout. I've resumed most of my normal activities with the exception of heavy-lifting and other forms of exercise that put strain on the abdominal area. I don't want any hernias or other complications from over-exerting. So painting and power tools and gardening, yes, but no resistance-band training yet.
Motherhood seems to agree with me. My neighbors have commented that I seem to have un-aged a decade or two. Looking in the mirror, I do notice that something is different. I'm 44 and I have no wrinkles. Very little gray hair. My skin looks great (must be all that coco butter cream I'm slathering on after I shower) and the odd blemishes that appeared during pregnancy have completely cleared up. Breastfeeding is taking a fair amount of weight off of me, so much in fact that I'm meeting with a dietician/nutritionist today to see what I can do about that. I don't mind dropping a pound a week, but 4 pounds a week is just too fast, and I'm worried about endangering my milk supply. As it is, I've pulled sorted through the bin of 'someday' clothes in my closet, only to realize that I've dropped two to three dress sizes since last summer and there is very little that fits properly. Washing everything in hot water and drying on high has helped shrink some stuff up, and while I can still wear a lot of my shirts with my breasts ballooned to DD/F territory, even the smallest skirts and pants in my closet hang down around my hips. I suppose I'm going to have to bite the bullet and do some clothes shopping some day soon. Grr. I hate shopping.
I admit to being a bit tired, and on the rare night that Little Man is fussy, I struggle under the pall of exhaustion and irritability. I've awakened M a couple of times and handed the baby over to him when I'm at wit's end, though I try not to. M functions on 8 hours of sleep but needs 10. Less than 10 hours, or interrupted sleep, and he ends up with a headache all day, so I take care of the baby every night. M often takes over when he gets up, so I can nap for a few hours. I am already longing for the day that Little Man can speak his needs so it is easier to meet them.
Little Man is adorable when he's sleeping, and when he snuggles up against me and his breath puffs against my skin, all is right in the world. Everything slows down. Time simultaneously stops and flies. My world narrows down to the confines of our home and the peace and love that exists within it. And I think that is as it should be. Yes. It is as it should be.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Celebratory Wine
The wine itself was worth the 12-year wait. It poured from the bottle a deep blood red color -- a color you'd expect from a wine made with cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc, and merlot grapes. The nose was complex, as was the taste. I'm not the type of person who intentionally singles out different scents or flavors from wines -- my feeling is that when you are preoccupied analyzing a wine (or a book, or painting, or anything similarly complex) you lessen the experience of the whole. In this case, the whole was a luscious, smooth red wine with very little astringency -- most of the tannin was aged out of it.
We drank it when we got home from a Moroccan restaurant. The wine was a good finish after a sweet meal (lamb with honey and almonds). The baby fared pretty well through all the music and belly-dancing, and was completely limp when we got home. I limited myself to one glass, to minimize the mount of alcohol that passed through to my breastmilk. It is interesting to note that even though he's no longer in utero, what I do with/to my body is still dictated by his needs -- and will be for another year or two.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Life with baby, week two.
So far Daddy M and I are adapting fairly easily to the changes that
Little Man is bringing to our lives. It's good that his father has
several weeks of paternity leave because it gives them time to bond. I
love settling Little Man on his father's bare chest and watching him
relax into his father's warmth, arms limp and hanging down along Daddy's
ribs. They nap well together, now that M is learning how to relax with
the baby on his chest. He's been great about stepping in to help with
baby-related stuff when I find myself trying to juggle too many things at once.
Being a mother is a comfortable role for me. I wear it well. It's definitely not a role I ever intended to take on, but it suits me all the same. My life has changed significantly, but not beyond recognition. I value tranquility and contemplation, and while there is certainly less of both in my life these days, nursing Little Man does create opportunities for meditative moments. These little time-outs are restorative. They also enhance the bonding process and force me to slow down. There is very little going on in my world that can't wait until a baby finishes nursing, I've discovered.
We are blessed with an easy baby. Little Man rarely cries or fusses, and in the past two weeks I've learned to read him well enough to know when he's gassy and needs burping, when he needs a diaper change, when he's hungry, and when he wants snuggling. He's got a great smile that he shares liberally with us, and each day he's more alert for longer stretches of time. I carry or wear him around the house and outside when I'm puttering in the garden. He's such a quiet little guy that we've taken him to a few restaurants and even to a movie without incident. Our proximity to downtown means we can walk to dinner or the movies pushing him along in the pram, and when he's older the nearby city parks are going to be very easy to visit.
I am blessed with the ability to be fully functional on 4 to 6 hours of patchwork sleep. It's hereditary, I think. My sisters were the same way, as was my mother. I am also blessed that Little Man only wakes up once a night for a feeding. I usually feed him at 11pm, again at 3am-ish, and then when we wakes up again sometime between 6 and 8 am, depending on how long it took him to get back to sleep from his middle-of-the-night milk-a-thon. He's drinking 3 and sometimes even 4 ounces at a time now, which is why he's sleeping for longer stretches than a lot of other newborns.
He started out rather small, at 7 pounds 1 ounce, and after losing 9 ounces on colostrum-only, was 7 pounds 9 ounces on Day 12. He's getting about 1/2 a liter of breastmilk a day (18 ounces), which accounts for his weight increase. And some of my weight loss, I'm sure. I'm glad I made the effort to exercise and keep my weight down during the pregnancy, because my energy-level bounced back up to near-normal within a few days after the baby was born. Seriously. I was cleaning house, doing laundry, gardening, baking, and taking care of the baby with just Daddy M's help (my step-mother had to go home the morning after I came home from the hospital) by Day 4. Apparently this quick a recovery isn't common, but I attribute it partially to my hardy Scottish and German peasant heritage (I'm built for baby-making) and partially to my efforts to stay active and keep my weight gain to a minimum so my body isn't burdened with the exhausting task of moving a lot of surplus weight around in addition to keeping up with the demands of a newborn. As it is, I'm looking forward to the soreness and bleeding to end so I can get to work firming up my lower body. I feel loose and jello-y in my abdomen and hips, and trying to walk at my usual pace still causes pelvic discomfort.
The wait to find out what he looks like isn't over yet. Infants are so plastic. So far it looks like Little Man has my nose. I wish he'd gotten his father's lovely grecian nose instead of my snub nose. I think he's got his father's mouth and eyes. Not sure about the chin yet. It's a pointy chin right now. If it had a hint of a cleft or a dimple I'd say he'd gotten mine, but time will tell. He definitely got my ears, which I got from my father's side of the family. His hair is brown and straight right now, but I know that newborn hair often falls out and grows in quite different. I was born with dark hair that fell out and grew in straight and blonde, and then when I hit puberty it turned dark and curly. Everyone comments on the perfect shape of his head. So far it looks like he's got his father's slender build rather than my sturdier one. Hopefully that means he'll have his father's grace, because I have very little. Without a doubt he's got my feet -- I'd know those long, almost prehensile toes anywhere :)
Being a mother is a comfortable role for me. I wear it well. It's definitely not a role I ever intended to take on, but it suits me all the same. My life has changed significantly, but not beyond recognition. I value tranquility and contemplation, and while there is certainly less of both in my life these days, nursing Little Man does create opportunities for meditative moments. These little time-outs are restorative. They also enhance the bonding process and force me to slow down. There is very little going on in my world that can't wait until a baby finishes nursing, I've discovered.
We are blessed with an easy baby. Little Man rarely cries or fusses, and in the past two weeks I've learned to read him well enough to know when he's gassy and needs burping, when he needs a diaper change, when he's hungry, and when he wants snuggling. He's got a great smile that he shares liberally with us, and each day he's more alert for longer stretches of time. I carry or wear him around the house and outside when I'm puttering in the garden. He's such a quiet little guy that we've taken him to a few restaurants and even to a movie without incident. Our proximity to downtown means we can walk to dinner or the movies pushing him along in the pram, and when he's older the nearby city parks are going to be very easy to visit.
I am blessed with the ability to be fully functional on 4 to 6 hours of patchwork sleep. It's hereditary, I think. My sisters were the same way, as was my mother. I am also blessed that Little Man only wakes up once a night for a feeding. I usually feed him at 11pm, again at 3am-ish, and then when we wakes up again sometime between 6 and 8 am, depending on how long it took him to get back to sleep from his middle-of-the-night milk-a-thon. He's drinking 3 and sometimes even 4 ounces at a time now, which is why he's sleeping for longer stretches than a lot of other newborns.
He started out rather small, at 7 pounds 1 ounce, and after losing 9 ounces on colostrum-only, was 7 pounds 9 ounces on Day 12. He's getting about 1/2 a liter of breastmilk a day (18 ounces), which accounts for his weight increase. And some of my weight loss, I'm sure. I'm glad I made the effort to exercise and keep my weight down during the pregnancy, because my energy-level bounced back up to near-normal within a few days after the baby was born. Seriously. I was cleaning house, doing laundry, gardening, baking, and taking care of the baby with just Daddy M's help (my step-mother had to go home the morning after I came home from the hospital) by Day 4. Apparently this quick a recovery isn't common, but I attribute it partially to my hardy Scottish and German peasant heritage (I'm built for baby-making) and partially to my efforts to stay active and keep my weight gain to a minimum so my body isn't burdened with the exhausting task of moving a lot of surplus weight around in addition to keeping up with the demands of a newborn. As it is, I'm looking forward to the soreness and bleeding to end so I can get to work firming up my lower body. I feel loose and jello-y in my abdomen and hips, and trying to walk at my usual pace still causes pelvic discomfort.
The wait to find out what he looks like isn't over yet. Infants are so plastic. So far it looks like Little Man has my nose. I wish he'd gotten his father's lovely grecian nose instead of my snub nose. I think he's got his father's mouth and eyes. Not sure about the chin yet. It's a pointy chin right now. If it had a hint of a cleft or a dimple I'd say he'd gotten mine, but time will tell. He definitely got my ears, which I got from my father's side of the family. His hair is brown and straight right now, but I know that newborn hair often falls out and grows in quite different. I was born with dark hair that fell out and grew in straight and blonde, and then when I hit puberty it turned dark and curly. Everyone comments on the perfect shape of his head. So far it looks like he's got his father's slender build rather than my sturdier one. Hopefully that means he'll have his father's grace, because I have very little. Without a doubt he's got my feet -- I'd know those long, almost prehensile toes anywhere :)
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Little Man's First Week
This first week with our newborn has been challenging. Little Man is jaundiced, but improving. At full-term birth he was 7lbs 1oz but within 3 days he lost 9oz -- about 8% of his original weight. It was tough to see him losing weight on the colostrum he was drawing from my breasts, and when I was told it could take 5 days for my milk to come in, I felt real fear for him. I started drinking Mother's Milk tea and visualizing breasts full of milk during my meditative moments. When my milk came in I was ecstatic, and the blissed-out expression on Little Man's face as he fell asleep with a full belly of milk is one I will always remember.
Our next challenge to face was bowel movements. After 5 days he stopped passing the meconium (which I call toxic waste) and stopped passing anything at all. After 24 hours I called the advice line. They recommended I stimulate his bottom with petroleum jelly and breastfeed him longer and more often, so I did. After 48 hours I was at the pediatric clinic, where they tested his bilirubin (up but not at danger level), took his temperature with a generously lubed anal thermometer, and observed me breastfeeding him to make sure he was drawing enough milk. He was a very aggressive latcher, and I'm producing lots of milk, but the lactation nurse recommended that we supplement the breastfeeding with an additional 2oz of expressed milk every 2.5 to 3 hours. Five feedings later we got what we were looking for, thankfully, but with an undesired side-effect: nipple confusion. He won't latch on anymore, I think because it's so much easier to get milk from a bottle's nipple. So, once we've got his weight up and his bilirubin down, I'll start the battle to get him back on the breast. Thankfully, Kaiser Permanente is strongly committed to breastfeeding because it makes for healthier, happier babies, so I'm getting lots of support from the lactation consultants on staff.
Speaking of Kaiser Permanente, I've got to say that I'm really impressed with this foundation as a health care provider and insurer. My prenatal care was excellent. There was no stinginess when it came to making sure that the baby and I were as healthy as possible, and with all the ultrasounds, fetal non-stress tests, dozens of doctor's appointments, specialist visits, lab tests, etc, I only made one (yes one!) $10 co-pay. My only expenses were my medications and nutritional supplements, and gasoline for all the to-and-fro. The birth experience was great, too. The Redwood City birthing center is staffed with midwives in addition to nurses and doctors, which is why I chose it. It was a very caring environment and the staff all did a great job of keeping me in the loop and educating me so I could make informed choices about how to progress with the laboring and delivery processes. I ended up with two hospital stay co-pays of $100 each. Knowing that I didn't have to worry about minimum deductibles and residual fees made the pregnancy much less stressful than it otherwise could have been.
What else? I'm retaining more water now than I did during my pregnancy. My feet and ankles look pillowy. The past couple of days I've been wrapping them in compression bandages and elevating them, and it does help -- they look better than they used to, but some of the swelling comes back within an hour or so of removing them. I'm still feeling bloated and flabby, and very sore/tender from the waist down, but that is to be expected. Even so, it appears I lost a dress size or two during the pregnancy. I had to dig deep into my closet to find a pair of pants to wear that don't hang off of me, and most of my skirts are way too loose. It will be interesting to see what my weight is now, and what my dress size is once I've firmed up.
Daddy M is being great. He never fails to step-up when I ask him for something. He's taking time out each day to do a skin-on-skin snuggle with his son, and helps with the supplemental feedings. We had a couple of emotional flare-ups the day after my parents went home, mainly because I was in pain and tired and feeling overwhelmed, but since then, my emotional state has been balanced and my body is handling the pain/discomfort better as I'm adjusting to the new sleep schedule and feeling less tired.
Almost time to wake Little Man for his next feeding! I think I'm going to hop into the shower while I can.
Our next challenge to face was bowel movements. After 5 days he stopped passing the meconium (which I call toxic waste) and stopped passing anything at all. After 24 hours I called the advice line. They recommended I stimulate his bottom with petroleum jelly and breastfeed him longer and more often, so I did. After 48 hours I was at the pediatric clinic, where they tested his bilirubin (up but not at danger level), took his temperature with a generously lubed anal thermometer, and observed me breastfeeding him to make sure he was drawing enough milk. He was a very aggressive latcher, and I'm producing lots of milk, but the lactation nurse recommended that we supplement the breastfeeding with an additional 2oz of expressed milk every 2.5 to 3 hours. Five feedings later we got what we were looking for, thankfully, but with an undesired side-effect: nipple confusion. He won't latch on anymore, I think because it's so much easier to get milk from a bottle's nipple. So, once we've got his weight up and his bilirubin down, I'll start the battle to get him back on the breast. Thankfully, Kaiser Permanente is strongly committed to breastfeeding because it makes for healthier, happier babies, so I'm getting lots of support from the lactation consultants on staff.
Speaking of Kaiser Permanente, I've got to say that I'm really impressed with this foundation as a health care provider and insurer. My prenatal care was excellent. There was no stinginess when it came to making sure that the baby and I were as healthy as possible, and with all the ultrasounds, fetal non-stress tests, dozens of doctor's appointments, specialist visits, lab tests, etc, I only made one (yes one!) $10 co-pay. My only expenses were my medications and nutritional supplements, and gasoline for all the to-and-fro. The birth experience was great, too. The Redwood City birthing center is staffed with midwives in addition to nurses and doctors, which is why I chose it. It was a very caring environment and the staff all did a great job of keeping me in the loop and educating me so I could make informed choices about how to progress with the laboring and delivery processes. I ended up with two hospital stay co-pays of $100 each. Knowing that I didn't have to worry about minimum deductibles and residual fees made the pregnancy much less stressful than it otherwise could have been.
What else? I'm retaining more water now than I did during my pregnancy. My feet and ankles look pillowy. The past couple of days I've been wrapping them in compression bandages and elevating them, and it does help -- they look better than they used to, but some of the swelling comes back within an hour or so of removing them. I'm still feeling bloated and flabby, and very sore/tender from the waist down, but that is to be expected. Even so, it appears I lost a dress size or two during the pregnancy. I had to dig deep into my closet to find a pair of pants to wear that don't hang off of me, and most of my skirts are way too loose. It will be interesting to see what my weight is now, and what my dress size is once I've firmed up.
Daddy M is being great. He never fails to step-up when I ask him for something. He's taking time out each day to do a skin-on-skin snuggle with his son, and helps with the supplemental feedings. We had a couple of emotional flare-ups the day after my parents went home, mainly because I was in pain and tired and feeling overwhelmed, but since then, my emotional state has been balanced and my body is handling the pain/discomfort better as I'm adjusting to the new sleep schedule and feeling less tired.
Almost time to wake Little Man for his next feeding! I think I'm going to hop into the shower while I can.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Got extreme nipple pain?
Welcome to the world of nipple vasospasm and/or Raynaud's of the nipple.
I am writing this as a public service, because I thought I was being a whimp about nipple pain and losing my mind, and I think there are more women out there like me than the medical community realizes.
Note: It appears that the anti-hypertensive drug Labetolol can cause extreme nipple pain as a side-effect. A lot of women experiencing hypertension during pregnancy are put on this drug. See my comment below dated 11/01/2016 for NIH and journal articles.
When we are pregnant and nursing (breastfeeding), women are told to expect a certain amount of breast-related discomfort. When we complain about extreme pain, we are sometimes diagnosed with mastitis. If treatment for mastitis fails, then we're told it's probably a fungal infection, like thrush. If treatment for fungal infection doesn't relieve the pain, mothers are told to grin and bear it, or give up breastfeeding. Thousands of women choose to suffer through agony because they know that breastfeeding is what is best for their children. Thousands more give up on breastfeeding entirely, feeling inadequate as mothers and unsupported by their physicians. I recently learned that nipple vasospasm, and particularly Raynaud's of the nipple, are leading causes of breastfeeding failure -- and no one knows about it.
Really. I first started experiencing it at about 5 months in to my pregnancy, when I started taking Labetalol for hypertension. I finally spoke of the throbbing, burning pain, I was told some women experienced that as their milk came in, and that it would fade. I knew that this level of intense pain just couldn't be 'normal', so I started researching online. It took me several hours of digging to turn up the information on Raynaud's/vasospasm of the nipple. My OB had never heard of it. She talked to another OB and that doctor told her she'd had a few patiednts with it over the years, but it was rare. I was referred to a lactation consultant who said my symptoms were characteristic of Raynaud's and recommended a medication(nifedipine) that I can't take while I'm pregnant. I have to wait until I'm breastfeeding. Meanwhile, I suffer.
What are the symptoms of Raynaud's or vasospasm of the nipple?
1-Extreme burning pain, the kind of nipple-on-fire pain that has you crying hysterically, wakes you up at night, doesn't respond to Tylenol, and makes you wish you could take drugs, drink alcohol, or knock your head against a wall until you find oblivion.
2-Extremely hard, puckered nipples and areolae, as if you'd been exposed to intense cold.
3-A blanching (whitening) of the tips of the nipples.
4-The areolae turn a very dark reddish, purplish, or bluish hue.
5-The edges of the aureolae sometimes turn a bright, angry red.
6-The pain lasts anywhere from just minutes, to over an hour.
If these symptoms are triggered by exposure to cold, it is called Raynaud's, otherwise, it is called nipple vasospasm. Whatever they call it, it is maddeningly painful.
I've tried Tylenol, sunburn gels, nipple ointments and numbing sprays, my hairdryer, warm washcloths, etc. The only thing that helps is a long, hot shower. The problem is, being pregnant, my tolerance for long, hot showers is pretty low. The other night I got out of the shower after 20 minutes, still with pain but bearable, and crawled into bed. 90 minutes later I was awake again. It took 30 minutes in a hot shower, with me feeling lightheaded and my knees about to buckle, before the horrid fucking pain abated.
I've experienced this for 5 nights running. I'm exhausted. I'm cranky. I'm dreading breastfeeding. As I emptied my dishwasher this morning, I was actually tempted by steak knives: I contemplated sawing off my nipples.
Several causes and treatments of nipple vasospasm are hypothesized. Causes could be too much caffeine, not enough B6 vitamins, exposure to cold, etc etc. Treatments recommended are heat, avoidance of vasocontrictors like caffeine and nicotine, ingesting vasodilators like nitrates, alcoholic beverages, niacin, and certain herbs. Based on the feedback I've been getting from other women, hypertensive meds, particularly Labetalol, may be causing this.
Ibuprofen helps some women, and Nifedipine usually works within days, and requires no more than 6 weeks at a low dosage to prevent recurrance. So the literature says.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do, especially on those nights when the pain outlasts my endurance of hot showers. Perhaps a bit of alcohol. This late in my pregnancy I'm not turning to ibuprofen and I'm not very tolerant of NSAIDs anyway. I might hit my doc up for prescription-strength topical lidocaine or procaine. Or maybe I'll get lucky and it will just disappear. I just know that I can't take another 23 days of this.
I hope that my research helps other women out there who are going crazy with nipple pain.
http://www.nbci.ca/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=52:vasospasm-and-raynauds-phenomenon&catid=5:information&Itemid=17
http://www.llli.org/nb/nbjulaug99p120.html
PostScript:
I was at my doctor's office for a routine fetal monitoring when this hit again. I sat in the chair and cried silently until the RN came in to check the tape and saw me. My pain tolerance is legendary so she was shocked. She asked what was going on. I showed her my breasts. Dark purplish aureolae and nipples, with the tips a shocking grayish white. She went and grabbed my OB. She examined me, gave me lidocaine cream and hot towels but they didn't make much difference. She asked me if anything helped. I defiantly told her about 1/2 ounce of scotch or Bailey's Irish Cream worked within a few minutes and I figured such a small amount wasn't going to affect the baby. She said I was right. She said that the stress hormones I was pumping out due to that level of pain was much worse for the baby than a small amount of alcohol. So now I've got doctor's orders to drink next time I have one of these vasospasms. Whee!
I am writing this as a public service, because I thought I was being a whimp about nipple pain and losing my mind, and I think there are more women out there like me than the medical community realizes.
Note: It appears that the anti-hypertensive drug Labetolol can cause extreme nipple pain as a side-effect. A lot of women experiencing hypertension during pregnancy are put on this drug. See my comment below dated 11/01/2016 for NIH and journal articles.
When we are pregnant and nursing (breastfeeding), women are told to expect a certain amount of breast-related discomfort. When we complain about extreme pain, we are sometimes diagnosed with mastitis. If treatment for mastitis fails, then we're told it's probably a fungal infection, like thrush. If treatment for fungal infection doesn't relieve the pain, mothers are told to grin and bear it, or give up breastfeeding. Thousands of women choose to suffer through agony because they know that breastfeeding is what is best for their children. Thousands more give up on breastfeeding entirely, feeling inadequate as mothers and unsupported by their physicians. I recently learned that nipple vasospasm, and particularly Raynaud's of the nipple, are leading causes of breastfeeding failure -- and no one knows about it.
Really. I first started experiencing it at about 5 months in to my pregnancy, when I started taking Labetalol for hypertension. I finally spoke of the throbbing, burning pain, I was told some women experienced that as their milk came in, and that it would fade. I knew that this level of intense pain just couldn't be 'normal', so I started researching online. It took me several hours of digging to turn up the information on Raynaud's/vasospasm of the nipple. My OB had never heard of it. She talked to another OB and that doctor told her she'd had a few patiednts with it over the years, but it was rare. I was referred to a lactation consultant who said my symptoms were characteristic of Raynaud's and recommended a medication(nifedipine) that I can't take while I'm pregnant. I have to wait until I'm breastfeeding. Meanwhile, I suffer.
What are the symptoms of Raynaud's or vasospasm of the nipple?
1-Extreme burning pain, the kind of nipple-on-fire pain that has you crying hysterically, wakes you up at night, doesn't respond to Tylenol, and makes you wish you could take drugs, drink alcohol, or knock your head against a wall until you find oblivion.
2-Extremely hard, puckered nipples and areolae, as if you'd been exposed to intense cold.
3-A blanching (whitening) of the tips of the nipples.
4-The areolae turn a very dark reddish, purplish, or bluish hue.
5-The edges of the aureolae sometimes turn a bright, angry red.
6-The pain lasts anywhere from just minutes, to over an hour.
If these symptoms are triggered by exposure to cold, it is called Raynaud's, otherwise, it is called nipple vasospasm. Whatever they call it, it is maddeningly painful.
I've tried Tylenol, sunburn gels, nipple ointments and numbing sprays, my hairdryer, warm washcloths, etc. The only thing that helps is a long, hot shower. The problem is, being pregnant, my tolerance for long, hot showers is pretty low. The other night I got out of the shower after 20 minutes, still with pain but bearable, and crawled into bed. 90 minutes later I was awake again. It took 30 minutes in a hot shower, with me feeling lightheaded and my knees about to buckle, before the horrid fucking pain abated.
I've experienced this for 5 nights running. I'm exhausted. I'm cranky. I'm dreading breastfeeding. As I emptied my dishwasher this morning, I was actually tempted by steak knives: I contemplated sawing off my nipples.
Several causes and treatments of nipple vasospasm are hypothesized. Causes could be too much caffeine, not enough B6 vitamins, exposure to cold, etc etc. Treatments recommended are heat, avoidance of vasocontrictors like caffeine and nicotine, ingesting vasodilators like nitrates, alcoholic beverages, niacin, and certain herbs. Based on the feedback I've been getting from other women, hypertensive meds, particularly Labetalol, may be causing this.
Ibuprofen helps some women, and Nifedipine usually works within days, and requires no more than 6 weeks at a low dosage to prevent recurrance. So the literature says.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do, especially on those nights when the pain outlasts my endurance of hot showers. Perhaps a bit of alcohol. This late in my pregnancy I'm not turning to ibuprofen and I'm not very tolerant of NSAIDs anyway. I might hit my doc up for prescription-strength topical lidocaine or procaine. Or maybe I'll get lucky and it will just disappear. I just know that I can't take another 23 days of this.
I hope that my research helps other women out there who are going crazy with nipple pain.
http://www.nbci.ca/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=52:vasospasm-and-raynauds-phenomenon&catid=5:information&Itemid=17
http://www.llli.org/nb/nbjulaug99p120.html
PostScript:
I was at my doctor's office for a routine fetal monitoring when this hit again. I sat in the chair and cried silently until the RN came in to check the tape and saw me. My pain tolerance is legendary so she was shocked. She asked what was going on. I showed her my breasts. Dark purplish aureolae and nipples, with the tips a shocking grayish white. She went and grabbed my OB. She examined me, gave me lidocaine cream and hot towels but they didn't make much difference. She asked me if anything helped. I defiantly told her about 1/2 ounce of scotch or Bailey's Irish Cream worked within a few minutes and I figured such a small amount wasn't going to affect the baby. She said I was right. She said that the stress hormones I was pumping out due to that level of pain was much worse for the baby than a small amount of alcohol. So now I've got doctor's orders to drink next time I have one of these vasospasms. Whee!
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