the glorious life of being a dairy cow, I mean.. a breastfeeding, pumping mama.

I've been back at work three weeks now, which means I spend most of my time at work pumping away, then on weekends I get to cuddle up to Avi and nurse her. Most people dream about breastfeeding baby one day, and I did too, however there are aspects of being a breastfeeding now pumping mama that I didn't expect, you know the glorious part that includes wet shirts and engorged boobies.

In the beginning, like 30 seconds after birth, you learn how to latch your baby on, then you experience the burning pain that is your virgin nipples slowly being destroyed by that precious little baby. Combine that with your uterus cramping like you're giving birth again and you're off to a good start! No worries, the uterine cramping will help shrink it down to size again and your nipples will become tough old lady nips.

Finally all your milk comes in a few weeks post partum and you're getting the hang of nursing. Some people feel they have low milk supply so they do all sorts of magic to get their supply up. Things like certain teas and wheat beer and supplements. I did some of that mainly because I panicked that I could be someone with low supply (no reasoning behind this, just crazies), so I did all the witch craft but didn't necessarily noticed a change in supply. Flash forward to 10 weeks post-partum when we took a vacation to Arizona. I had a few mojito drinks the night we got in. The next day was leak central. I'm talking about (leave this page if you don't want graphic details of my boobies...) a continuous stream coming out of one boob. I was trying to nurse, but Avi was both too full and also choking on the fire hose I was trying to feed her with. I had to lean over the bed just so all that milk didn't soak the sheets... it just poured and poured onto the floor while husband watched in horror.

I mean... the kid is right there and she still couldn't help this hot mess.

Yup, those fantastic huge boobs that got me so many free drinks in my early twenties were now something of a horror show. It's like you want to look away in disgust but at the same time there I am laying on the bed with a passed out milk coma baby, one ginormous boob dangling over the bed and a stream of liquid gold flooding the floor of the hotel room. It doesn't get sexier than this. I couldn't figure out the culprit, it was the worst I've ever experienced. Every day on that vacation I was a walking wet t-shirt contest, party of 1. I pumped and I nursed and I still leaked. Meeting up with a friend for brunch, I thankfully wore a patterned dress, because by the end of our brunch my dress was soaked down to my waist. DOWN. TO. MY. WAIST.

Didn't get the pump on fast enough and boobies got excited

Every time I leave the house I have to wonder if I'm going to leak. I have to wear patterned shirts, bring extra shirts and stuff my bra with pads. I mean, come on! I have to put pads in my bra! FAIL. I wake up in the morning with soaking sheets and comforters. I'm a mess. My child looks at me with disgust. I try and force feed her my boob and fatty tuna even gets sick of it, just smiles and mocks me as milk runs down my boob. So much waste.

Leaking at work is always fun. Mistake with no pattern shirt.

So aside from all my leaky problems, I also look forward to wearing the sexy bras that allow me to nurse... said no one ever. I am basically living in my great grandma's bra from the flapper era. This thing hoists these milk jugs up to my shoulders and also has a nice pull down slot to easily nurse. I love how there are balconette nursing bras that you can actually buy. Yeah, hi, I have like size H milk sacks, I don't need to be forcing cleavage. I'm pretty sure if I were to wear a balconette or low cut nursing bra, these babies would just cut free and then I'd have to worry about leaking and my huge tits ripping out of my bra, no thanks, I'll wear my great grannies bra. Also, when you're nursing or pumping you can't wear the cute things of pre-pregnancy. No more dresses unless they're nursing dresses, or unless you're comfortable taking off your dress to nurse. That may get tricky. You constantly have to think about your outfit because if you throw on something from your cute days, you'll find yourself screwed without access to your boobers.

Then there's the painful side that can happen. The other night I woke up with terrible pain in my right boob. I could feel it was slightly lumpy and when Avi would nurse there was a burning pain that radiated into my armpit. It just took my breath away, and not in a good way. I knew it probably was a plugged milk duct. I wanted to avoid nursing cause it hurt so bad, but also knew that was the worst idea. The throbbing pain kept me up most of the night, so by 6am I decided I needed to get in the hot shower to massage this fat blob out of my boob. At this point my milk most likely turned into butter, which clogged my ducts. No, don't worry that's not actually a thing... I don't think. Avi was starting to wake at that point so I had to set her in her vibratey chair in front of the shower. Like a zombie I stood in that shower massaging my boob and could see her screaming for boobies, however my shower is pretty sound proof so I just sat in there. Sorry kid, mom needs a break. My boob is on fire and I want to die.After a day of nursing through the pain, it's better. Ahh the things we do.

On the possible bright side of things, is the insatiable appetite. I didn't notice it the last few months but think it's in full gear now. We had friends over for a weekend and we gorged ourselves on all sorts of bad delicious treats. I noticed the problem when 3 out of 4 of us were full to the point of wanting to vomit. The odd man out? This girl. I was confused. I was still hungry and everyone wanted to barf? Crap.

The weirdest thing about breast milk for me is that I hoard it. I don't know why. I can't explain it. But if I have leftover milk I freeze it to create a frozen stash for I don't know, a rainy day? I mean I'm producing breast milk from my breast but I still feel the need to create a frozen collection of milk. I don't want to waste a drop of this liquid gold. Like I'm crazy obsessed with it. I rush home after work with the thought that if I get there fast enough, Avi doesn't need the last bottle, therefore I can just nurse her and save the bottle for later or freeze it. I am like a doomsday prepper with my breast milk (ugh that doesn't even make sense). I want to create the largest stock pile and give very detailed instructions for the use of the milk and then I want to supervise the people using it to make sure there is no waste. You think I'm kidding? I've gone batshit crazy about this milk and I'm not really sure why. I get so geeked out excited when I pump a lot at work. Like it consumes my mind for awhile, and then it's time to pump again and I see if I can get as much or more the second time. Like a dumb competition with myself and my boobs. Man that's crazy. So crazy that I've taken pictures of the milk I've pumped. You wouldn't take pictures of a glass of cows milk and be like "oh man, poured myself a glass of milk today!" No.

All of the craziness and messiness is totally worth it though. My fatty tuna baby is fat and roly from all the milk that I make straight from my body.

That's pretty cool.

I made this!

Post-partum. We don't talk about it enough.

Some people feel amazing after having a baby and they are filled with joy and unicorns and puppies, but I think those people are liars or zombies. There's way more to the post-partum world that no one really seems to talk about, except me, because I like to be chatty about taboo subjects. I want to preface this by saying I don't have a history of depression or any other mental illness (no husband, this is not a place to insert joke here.) This is based off my experience with my breastfed baby in the first few weeks to months. Your journey may be different. There may be pieces of my journey that you can relate to or maybe not at all.

When you leave the hospital, it's surreal. You get in the car with this little human and just go home. Just like that. You left for the hospital with a smaller family and then return with a new member of the family, who's going to stay for 18+ years, and who you have to love and care for forever. That hits you like a brick wall. You walk into your house and it's all different. What now? In the hospital you had nurses taking care of you and the baby. You had food trays delivered. You didn't have any real responsibilities, but then you get home and you are on your own. Sure you may have family or friend support, but this is really on you now.

It's all blissful and exciting until your exhaustion hits and the baby starts crying and you start nursing and your nipples scream for a break and your mind screams for sleep. Your stomach screams for food. Panic sets in.

The days are easiest. Something happens when the sun sets and it's dark. It's like sadness and desperation roll in. You're hoping for sleep, but know sleep is not about to come. This smooshy nugget needs you. Your partner will want to help but you'll soon realize that there's not much they can do. This baby wants your breast. They want your touch and your scent. They need you and only you right now. It's a lot of overwhelming pressure.

I remember a few days after being discharged from the hospital, I was sitting in my rocking chair in my pristine nursery feeding my new baby. It was bedtime, or what bedtime used to be. I was exhausted. I was nursing every 30 minutes around the clock. I couldn't catch a break. My nipples hated me. I was beyond exhausted. The tears started coming. They wouldn't stop. I remember thinking, "I don't want this baby. I want my life back. I want to travel. I want to sleep when I want. I can't do this. I don't want this. I don't want to breastfeed. I'm not ready for a baby." It was one of the most awful thoughts to have. I didn't expect to ever feel that way. No one prepared me to feel that way. Sure they tell you you'll be emotional and cry easier, but I didn't expect to not want my baby. It was a planned pregnancy after all, all I ever wanted was a baby... until that moment. To look down at that brand new innocent baby and think that you don't want her. That made me cry more. There was nothing my husband could do. I just had to get through this point. And I did. It took a few days, but I started slowly seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. A glimmer of normalcy. A glimmer of sleep and spaced out feedings. I continued my breastfeeding journey and just reached our 3 month "nurse-aversary."

Having a baby is life changing, everyone will tell you. It doesn't mean much until you live it. I just wished I knew a little more of what to expect. It's more than not going to fancy restaurants for awhile. It's more than having to get a babysitter. It changes your marriage, your relationships, your partnerships with the people you love. It can change it for the better or for worse, but it will change it. Your marriage or relationship will be harder at first. You have to find your new normal, your new pattern of life with the three of you. It will take awhile because the first couple of months you're consumed with figuring out the baby. Just getting out of the house is daunting. DAUNTING.

Men and women see things differently when it comes to new babies. You will have different opinions. You will have different roles. Men tend to bond differently with newborns than women do, and sometimes it takes longer for them to bond. It may be difficult to stomach at first, but they will slowly adapt and find their parenting style. My husband didn't bond with Avi like I did, and it took him a little bit. In my emotional state, to me it meant he didn't love her. It was hard to see him not fawn over her like I did. Men sometimes just aren't that way. I thought we would react the same. Show our love the same. It's not always the case. I have to remember, I carried her in my womb, delivered her from my body, nurse her from the milk my body makes. My bond with my daughter will always be different from my husbands, but that does not mean he loves her less. This aspect is just difficult to get through and understand when you're so consumed with emotions and hormones and just the newness of the situation. Know everything will play out. Everyone will find their parenting style, their role, their place in the family. There's plenty of love to go around. Love multiplies, it does not divide.

For me, it was critical to find a new mama support group. I needed to get out of the house. To be with people who were also exhausted, overwhelmed, insecure about nursing. I needed to find others like me. I went to a moms group for 6 weeks. I look back and cannot believe how much we all grew. The biggest change I see in all of us is our confidence. Confidence as parents, as new moms. Confidence in not just nursing, but nursing in front of people. Confidence in getting out of the house and getting somewhere on time. Knowing that shit happens. You baby will cry in public. They will actually scream. Your boobs may leak, you may sweat, but you will be okay. People will notice less than you think, they may actually be relieved to know that they aren't the only ones. Tomorrow is another day. Everyone will forget the small stuff.

 Once you get the hang of life with a new baby, you may laugh at the small things you used to stress about. You'll feel like you've come so far, and you have! Now is the time to work on your personal relationships. Make time for yourself without the baby. Do it now because it will be harder if you wait. Take small steps. Go for a walk while someone watches the baby. You will realize you can be without your baby. You can clear your mind, get some rest, some fresh air. Enjoy a pastry, or coffee. You will be a better parent for those small moments you make for yourself. 

My best advice is finding support. Finding a new moms group, a breastfeeding group. Something that connects you with others in your situation. If the sadness is hard to get through, or you can't function from day to day, seek help. Know that others are in your boat. You are not alone. At 3am when you're feeding or rocking your baby, know you are not the only one. There are other tired mamas rocking and nursing their new babies in a dark room. You will get through it.

Avi is 12 weeks, and it seems like yesterday we brought her home, yet when I think about those sleepless desperate nights, it seems like years. I have come so far as a new mom and still have a ways to go. Everyday I learn something about her, about myself, about my husband. I learn about our new life as a family of 3. It's always an evolving and changing process.

Take a breath. Relax. Give yourself a break. You can do this.

airplanes, babies, and poopstains. How to travel with the little nugget.

Due to Chicago's hellish unrelenting winter, hubs and I decided to pack up our family and head for Arizona for 5 days for a HOT escape. We are big travelers, but this time was different because we had to account for a baby. Avi was just under 3 months when we decided to trek to the west for some sun.

What up Miss Thighs

How the hell do you pack and travel, especially air travel with a baby? Well here's some tips of what we found:

1. We bought a cheapo piece of crap, however new and meets regulations car seat. We needed to rent a car in Arizona and would need some sort of contraption to put nugget in, and I didn't want the airlines to throw around my $200+ car seat. I've also heard mixed reviews about rental car car seats, and didn't feel like dealing with that at 10:30pm when we got into Phoenix.So we bought one from Kohl's that did the job just fine. It's hideous with light pink and grey flowers, but is better than letting Avi roll around in the backseat. At least that's what I'm told.

We checked the car seat at the front desk of the airlines so we wouldn't have to lug it through the airport. Make sure you read the manual before hand so you have a good idea of how to quickly install in rental car. This seat came with a base, which we used, however some car seats you don't need a base and can attach with lap belt. 

2. I raved about my UPPAbaby umbrella stroller in my last entry. This stroller is the cat's pajamas. So glad we decided to get it. You can choose to check it right away with the airline or you can gate check it for free depending on if you want to use it through security, which brings me to my next point.

3. wear your baby through security. I put Avi in my Tula carrier (which is amazing by the way), it's a soft structured carrier easy to get on and off and then you don't have to putz with anything in the security line. If you have them in a stroller,  you'll have to take them out, which might be fine for a toddler who should be walking anyways, but I wasn't about to wake up my 3 month old. No thanks, we'll just walk on through.

On the plane, some flight attendants will require you to take the baby out of the carrier for takeoff and landing, which doesn't make sense to me as to why you'd want the baby to become a projectile if shit's heading south, but whatever Avi needed to eat then anyways.

4. Speaking of take off and landing, feed your babe during those times, either by boob or bottle, or if it's not eating time, use a paci. Those are the times that most affect their ears but if they're doing the suck/swallow motion, they won't notice, which means happy non-screaming baby and happy neighbors. I have pretty much lost the small amount of modesty I had, so my milk bags were out and about during flight. Those teeny planes do not have enough room for you to fidget with a boobcover, but I think those things are annoying anyways.

5. The biggest thing is you will feel like a disorganized wreck because of all the crap this teeny human needs. To minimize this feeling, be as organized as you can. I had a small wristlet that I put about 6 diapers in, a small pouch of wipes, a small changing pad, hand sanitizer and lip balm. This way when you need to change you can grab one thing right away, or if you need to change in the airplane bathroom, which we didn't, you don't need to try and carry a bunch of things, only a wristlet.

6. Babies, at least my baby, loves to poop at the most inconvenient times. Avi was asleep in the Tula carrier and we were grabbing food quickly before boarding when I heard and felt a rumble. I was sorry to find this was a juicy up the back blowout. I found a family changing room, which is nice because it's a private room with large changing space so the hubs could come in and help out. So this brings me to my point of having an emergency outfit for when your kid wants to crap themselves. Our one carry-on besides the kid was a backpack, so in the side pocket I stuffed footed onesies so I didn't have to deal with pants or socks. One piece. Don't make this hard.

7. Now what to do with my juicy pooped on onesie? Right. Walk back to the food court to find a bag of some sort to stuff it in until we land. Made a mental note to pack plastic baggies for next time. They will come in handy for any wet clothes and can be put in the wristlet for easy access. See how we are becoming more organized as we move along?!

8. So I over packed outfits for Avi, but she's a girl and I'm a girl and we need options for what to wear. So I packed the girl some options, but I guess a few too many. I had about 3 per day for 5 days, so about 15 outfits plus 3 pajamas. We used more in the realm of 8 outfits. But if you have a kid that likes to crap their pants more than my kid, well then you'll need more than1 outfit a day.

Traveling is so stressful...