A Million Miles Away.

I just found this sitting in my drafts folder.  It’s old… I don’t know how old.  Xanga old.  But I read it, and it made me cry, and it’s still so true it hurts.

I wanted to share.  This is what it feels like to live a million miles away from your family.

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I cried myself to sleep last night.

It’s funny.  I sat here for almost 15 minutes looking at the entry screen, and wondering if I should write those words.  But nothing has changed.  This is what I would write if I didn’t know there were almost two hundred people reading it.  And this is what I will write now that I do.

“I’m homesick,” I told Brock.  He could tell that something was wrong.  I had been a little low all evening.

“Do you want to take a trip home?” he asked me, “Do you want to go before Christmas?”

Thoughts were running through my mind constantly, but one single message was being played loud and clear.  “It’s not that… it’s…” I allowed it all to blurt out at once, “…I just don’t feel like they even miss me.”

Those words seemed to break whatever was holding me back, and I couldn’t keep the tears from falling.  Brock held me, and ran his fingers through my hair while I exhausted myself with sobs.  He let me cry while quietly whispering, “They love you, Mandy.  They miss you.  They miss you every single day.”  Eventually the tears stopped, and my breathing slowed, and I felt a special sort of calm that can only be found after a storm.

“Do you feel better now?” Brock asked me.  My head seemed to nod on it’s own as I felt myself drift silently into sleep.

 

Isn’t it funny?  600 comments on a post about being lonely, people telling me that I just need to do this, or just need to find that and my life will be better.  Just look on the brighter side, you’ll get through this.  Yet still, sometimes, the sadness just overwhelms me.  And once I let it out, I go back to being fine.  I just miss them so much, is all.

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My mother responded with this:

To Mandy

So, you don’t tell your mother everything!  I had to find out about turkeys on Xanga!  That’s okay.  I don’t tell you everything either.  Like how proud I am of you, and how much I miss you .

That you make my day when I pick up the phone and you say hi mama.  How it breaks my heart to have to say “Mandy I can’t talk right now cause 5 people are clamoring for my attention” and to have to tell you to call back later.  I am like a seven year old waiting for Christmas about our vacation because I get to have you to myself for however long you can be with us in September.  I don’t have to share.  Except with your dad and that’s okay cause he misses you too!  Only he’ll tell you you still talk too much.  lol  And then if it happens that you can come home for Christmas I won’t mind sharing because I will have already had my selfish share.

I want to tell you about what happened last night.

A young lady about your age came into the hotel looking very upset and crying and asked me for a room.  I of course got her settled and then being a nosy mom, asked if there was anything I could do to help her and she said no thanks, I just need a bath and some pain killers and some sleep.  I told her to let me know if she got any worse and I would take her to the hospital.  Anyway an hour later the front desk called me and asked me to go to her room.  I went right away and she was burning with fever and crying obviously in alot of pain.

I took her right to the hospital and stayed with her while they examined her and admitted her and she kept saying “you don’t have to stay with me”  and I said, yes I do, because someday if something ever happened to my daughter I would want to know that there was someone out there who would care enough to help her.  THAT was firstmost in my thoughts.  This morning when I went back to the hospital to get her, the hug she gave me was almost like a hug from you.  She was diagnosed as having a severe kidney infection and was going to continue on her way home.

I think at times I do for other young people what I can’t do for you.  Be there to be a comfort and give a hug when someone needs one.  Still none of them can take away the loneliness that only goes when you are home.

I do love you, and miss you more

MOM

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I replied to her with this:

Mother…

Maybe go get some tissues.

It is a good thing we had that talk today about crying being a good thing. You made me cry and cry. Brock came over to hug me, and couldn’t figure out what was wrong. He kept asking me, “What is it? Is she mad at you? Is she sad at you? What did she say?” …but I was crying too hard to answer.

Why is it that sometimes we can’t say the things we mean to say until it gets to be too much to hold inside?

I miss you so much.  I miss you every day. I miss your cigarettes, and your coffee cups.  I miss putting away the dishes even though I hate it.  I’m crying right now, I miss it so much.  I miss talking about books, and watching movies, and sitting beside you on the couch.  I miss hearing you tell dad to go stuff it, and seeing him smirk when you turn your back.  I miss… mom, I miss everything. And it is so hard living without you.

I know you are proud of me… I am proud of me too. I just wish I could share it with you more than a phone call, some pictures, and an email.

I love you.   Tell dad I love him too.

Boys out.

Ronan and his best buddy Fox were playing in the yard.  I tried to capture a bit of their fun.

Ronan and a popsicle.

Fox and a popsicle!

Ronan and Fox's popsicle. UNWANTED SHARING! Hehe!

My two favorite girls. <3

Little feet at the water table.

I LOVE this family!!

CLOSEUP RUBY!

CLOSEUP RONAN!

CLOSEUP FOX! Also, that is the best Grape Goatee Ever.

Our boys FINALLY learning to share!

I love how they look in wonder at airplanes.

Always behind the camera, never in front. Me and my Roo.

 

 

 

I Give Up.

This is a really, really hard post for me to write.

Part of me doesn’t want to write it, but instead keep it secret and act like everything is okay.

I can’t keep on like this.

I took Ruby across the country to a specialist, advanced in his field to remedy a problem. He fixed her mouth, but he did not fix our problem.

My heart is broken.

Ruby still doesn’t like to nurse. She still gets angry, upset, frustrated. Only now, it’s because she doesn’t want the deep latch she is capable of. She wants the breast to sit in her mouth like a bottle nipple.

I can’t keep fighting her.

She uses both of her hands and pushes the breast away from her. She arches her back. She pulls as hard as she can until she is just sucking on the tip – then, and only then is she happy.

The pain is unbearable.

When I hold her hands down at her sides so she can’t pull, she screams. When I cuddle her close so she can’t arch back, she jerks her head off of the breast. When I move forward and reduce the space between us, she cries and stops nursing.

She doesn’t want the breast.

It has taken me a long time to come to this point. I have gone through a lot of hard work and heartbreak to get here. But I don’t want either of us to be miserable any longer. I haven’t cried all my tears yet, and each time I give her a bottle instead, more will fall. She is still my sweet baby girl, and I am still her mama. But nursing will simply no longer be a part of our relationship.

It hurts so badly.

I don’t want to give up. I want to believe it will get better, and she will suddenly realize she likes to nurse, and we will both be happy and nothing will hurt. I’ve been trying to believe it for four months. I don’t know how to believe any more. I don’t know what is wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it.

I’m tired.

I’m hurt.

I just want to enjoy my baby.

Starting today, I’m going to pump milk for my daughter. I will continue to pump until there is no milk left. I will pump for as long as she wants milk, and make sure she is always satisfied.

But I give up.

We will no longer nurse.

 

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Maxillary Labial Frenum and Tongue Tie

When I think of a ‘whirlwind vacation’, I imagine jetting off to Paris for a romantic weekend.

Jetting off ANYWHERE is not relaxing or romantic at all.

I flew with Ruby to Albany, New York yesterday… and here’s why:

Ruby and I have had nursing troubles for ages, and there didn’t seem to be any real solution beyond just muscling through. She had been ‘checked’ for tongue tie at birth and I was told she was fine. She was ‘checked’ again by a lactation consultant and again by my pediatrician who all pronounced her ‘normal’. Several weeks ago, I read an article on “maxillary labial frenum” tie on Facebook, and it got my wheels turning. I checked Ruby’s upper lip. It looked like this:

Ruby's Maxillary Labial Frenum

I was sure the moment I saw it that it was tied. My little wheels kept right on squeaking. I tweeted about it. I had a bunch of responses, but one person in particular (and I can’t remember who) sent me to www.kiddsteeth.com, where I started reading article after article. I knew it, this was our problem, and Ruby need to be ‘fixed’.

I began talking with Brock about getting Ruby’s lip tie separated, and brought it up with our pediatrician. I knew many people flew to Albany, NY to see Dr. Kotlow because of his experience and his methods of laser separation WITHOUT the use of anesthesia, and we were prepared to do so as well. My pediatrician talked me into getting a consult with a plastic surgeon before I considered flying. When they called to schedule my appointment, the earliest they could get us in for a consult was June 22nd. I called Dr. Kotlow’s office and asked how soon they could get us in – to see if it would be worth our time going that route. I was asked, “Would you like to come in tomorrow?”

That sort of cemented it for me. I looked into flights to Albany, and there was a non-stop option. Brock’s dad, Ted, help me plan out the flights, the tickets were bought… and it all happened to work out. We were going. The very next day.

That night, I slept well but woke at 6am and couldn’t go back to sleep. I got up and showered, got dressed and myself all ready. I re-packed the diaper bag and picked out an outfit for Ruby. I cleaned. I ate. I changed the car seats so Brock would have a seat for Ronan while I was gone. I sat. I tweeted. I got really, really bored. It was 9am and NO ONE else was awake. I finally woke Brock up so I would have some company.

Ruby eventually woke a little after 9:30, and I bathed her and dressed her. She was in a great mood and I was excited for our day. We loaded into the car – me, Ruby, and my trusty Ergo – and it was off to the airport. After parking and checking in, we were really on our way.

Mommy and Ruby - Ready to GO!

Security took us mere seconds to get through. In the Charlotte airport, I wasn’t asked to take Ruby out of the Ergo, but instead was given a quick pat-down. We arrived at our gate and patiently waited. Ruby was handing out smiles left and right! I stood near the counter so I could be sure to hear if they called my name, and I could see on the monitor how many passengers had checked in, how many seats were left. We were flying stand-by, and all we needed was ONE seat to get on the plane! I watched as person after person walked down the jet-way, and I felt myself getting more and more nervous. My hands started shaking, and I was a little sweaty. There were at least 4 other people still ‘sitting’, so I assumed they were also stand-by. By my counting, there was only going to be one extra seat. After the last person boarded, I nervously walked up to the counter and said who I was, and that we were waiting for a seat on the plane. I had mentally prepared my sob story, and how I was taking my poor, sweet baby for surgery… but the gate agent picked up a boarding pass that was sitting next to him, scanned it, smiled at me and said, “Enjoy your flight!”

We were on the plane!

Nursing... on a plane!

While on the plane, I began chatting with the lady sitting beside me. I told her I was planning on nursing Ruby while on the flight, and she was very pleased! She told me that she had breastfed all three of her children, the youngest of which is now 47. We had a lovely conversation about breastfeeding and how it would be wonderful to see more women doing so, more normality and less derision. Ruby smiled and smiled at her. I think it made her day. She became Ruby’s honorary airplane grandma, and held her so I could have a bathroom break.

Ruby and her new friend.

After landing in Albany, I hopped in a cab that was waiting curb-side at the terminal. I told the driver the address, and we were on our way. Nerves had really started to to kick in, and I was starting to feel scared about putting my tiny, sweet baby through surgery. We arrived at the dentist’s office, and it looked like a repurposed house. I wish I had taken a picture of it. But as soon as we walked in, it became apparent that this place was in the business of kids. There were sweet, lovely, colorful signs every where… there was even a carousel in the waiting room! Dr. Kotlow has been a pediatric dentist for so many years, his patients are referred to as “Kotlow’s Kids.”

Kotlow's Kids - 20 minutes early!

I filled out mountains of paperwork, and Dr. Kotlow came in and introduced himself. He asked to examine Ruby, and laid her down between us with her bottom in my lap, and her head on his knees. The man is incredibly professional, and incredibly proficient. He pulled Ruby’s lip up harder than I ever have, and it immediately became apparent how tied her lip really was. He then forced his fingers and thumbs in her mouth and pulled her tongue up as far as he could, and showed me how tight her lingual frenulum was. I had no idea how significantly tongue tied she was, but he described it as a “very severe tie”. Ruby wasn’t bothered in the least by all of this, and he handed her back to me so I could watch a video about the procedure. While the video was very informative, and showed exactly how the procedure is done (using clips of actual procedures) my heart was racing. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go through with it.

Dr. Kotlow came back, asked me if I had any questions, and said, “Ok! Let’s get this done!”

He held his hands out to Ruby, and I hesitantly placed her in his arms. With very confident, assured hands, he carried her away.

I was suddenly very alone with her paci and my tears.

Seeing this picture still makes me cry.

I strained and strained my ears to hear her screams of torture. I convinced myself that it was awful, and my poor baby was going to be scarred for life. I prepared myself to sit in suspense for the duration of this exhaustive procedure. Moments later, and I am not exaggerating, but mere MINUTES later, I heard her whimpers coming back down the hall. My shock was washed away with relief at seeing my baby with tears down both cheeks, but quite obviously fine. He said the procedure went smoothly, and commented that she was a VERY good yeller. He showed me her incisions, and it didn’t seem to bother Ruby at all. I suspected that she was crying simply because she had been restrained and not at all because she was in pain. He said he would leave the room and allow me to nurse to see if I noticed a difference.

Boy, did I notice a difference.

It was as though I was nursing a different baby. It was as though our problems had melted away. It was as though she was nursing the way she was meant to all along. I cried, and I cried – happy tears. I felt justified, vindicated… but most of all, just thankful. My fears of picking up and flying across several states for a problem that may have been all in my head just melted away.

Dr. Kotlow returned and could tell from my face that things had improved. I thanked him profusely and we went over our “discharge” instructions. He showed me how to stretch her incisions so that they wouldn’t heal back together. We discussed what normal healing would look like. He pointed out potential problems to look for and gave me his cell phone number. He told me I could call or email him any time with any questions or concerns. He then apologized that we came such a very long way for such a very short visit, and I assured him that it was incredibly, unbelievably worth it.

Happy it's all over.

We cabbed our way back to the airport and over-exhausted Ruby fell asleep as I was waiting in line to check-in. I walked to security, and put my things on the conveyor belt, assuming that I would be allowed through with Ruby in the Ergo as I was in Charlotte.

Wrong.

They insisted I take her out of the Ergo and put in on the conveyor to go through the x-ray. I questioned it, told them I hadn’t been required to take her out at our previous airport, and was informed that it was “regulations” and that the rules were the same everywhere. Let me just say this – airport security, and all your pompous crap is just power tripping. Anyways.

I had lunch at a cute little salad bar, and watched as leagues and leagues of people went to McDonalds next door instead of opting for soup, salad or sandwhich. I laughed and moved on to our gate. We waited almost two hours for our flight home, and I was given a seat before we even started boarding. The flight wasn’t even close to full, and my last anxiety faded away. We had survived the trip, we simply had to survive the flight and we’d be home free.

Ruby was fussy on the flight, and unable to fall asleep. She comfort nursed more on that single airplane ride than she ever had before, and I think both of us found it relaxing. I can already tell that she finds nursing to be less frustrating than ever before. Near Charlotte, when we started making our descent for landing, I strapped Ruby in the Ergo and she became very upset. She was screaming and didn’t want to be strapped in, but I felt that it was necessary to have some extra security when taking off and landing. I whipped out mah boobage and nursed her in the Ergo and it calmed her instantly. BECAUSE she was in the Ergo, it was nearly impossible to tell that I was breastfeeding her. However, when the flight attendant walked by, she stared intently at what we were doing, and when she figured it out, she gave me the most heinous stink-eye I’ve ever seen. I laughed it off, and said to my seat-mate, “Did you see that look? I’m entirely impressed,” to which she responded, “You’d think she’d just be glad the baby isn’t crying.”

Landed, traversed the airport, and a short car ride later we were HOME. Brock immediately noticed how mobile her tongue was – it’s incredible to watch her experiment with her new-found mobility. I nursed her again and put her to sleep around 9:30pm, and she slept until 7 this morning. She’s my hero.

Here is a before and after comparison of Ruby’s lip.

Maxillary Labial Frenum - Before and After

Since photo-blogging our journey yesterday, I have had several people ask me questions about the lip-tie, the procedure, and what to do. Here’s how I feel about it – it was so easy, so fast, and quite obviously doesn’t bother Ruby a bit. (I have done the stretching exercises several times since we’ve been home, and she smiles immediately afterwards.) My only question is – Why not? If there is a chance it could improve your nursing relationship, or improve your child’s chance of not having speaking/eating/etc problems in the future… what really is there to lose? I read an entire thread of people on Facebook yesterday who opted not to have tongue or lip tie clipped as an infant and ALL of them had it done at a much later time, suggesting it be done earlier because it’s easier and heals faster.

Check out the link (again, it’s www.kiddsteeth.com) and see what Dr. Kotlow has to say about it. I am SO thankful I decided to go through with this, and could not be happier with the result. If you have a question or a concern, consult a pediatric dentist or ENT – and find someone that can do it without general anesthesia, because it isn’t necessary. And good luck. :D

No Time At All.

It is no wonder I haven’t written a whole blog – or posted pictures – in ages.

I don’t get any free time.  At all.

And without a doubt, the moment I sit down at my computer to write, Ruby wakes up.

I am one step ahead of her this time.  This time, I have her strapped to me in the Ergo, and I’m not going to try to put her down until AFTER I’m finished blogging.

So much has happened, and I haven’t written about any of it.  I don’t even know where to begin.

Mark and Dana got married in Charleston, and it was amazing.  The most beautiful wedding, such a fun time.

The trip was sort of a bust.  Rained every beach day.  Ronan learned how to crawl out of his pack-n-play, and also jumped into a swamp.

RUBY WINS.

Yeah, she’s awake again.

I’m gonna keep writing.

We have, all five of us, been sick since we got back from the wedding.  We are all still sick.

Ronan had a developmental evaluation scheduled for last week, and we rescheduled due to the plague upon our house.  It is rescheduled for next week.

Ruby is still nursing, but not nursing well.  After a ton of research and a lot of questions, we have discovered she has a Maxillary Labial Frenum attachment as well as a mild tongue-tie.  We are in the process of figuring out what the next step is there.

Fuck.  She’s crying now.

Sorry guys.  I can’t be a blogger until she’ll let me be a blogger.

Oh Wells.

It’s been a flipping month since I’ve updated.

Not really, but really.

So many things have happened, and my brain is all a-jumble.

Ruby is always the most challenging in the evenings, so I don’t ever get more than 10 or 15 minutes to myself.  I usually sit down to write a blog and never even get started.  This time, I’m just gonna write until she gets up and hit publish!

In nursing news, Ruby is 100% at the breast.  She’s not very happy about it sometimes, and sometimes she nurses like there was never, ever a problem.  I go back to work again on Wednesday, so we’ll see how she does after 12 days without a bottle.  My hope is to get her to the point where she will just as happily take the breast and the bottle without any troubles.

Ronan…

..And she’s up.  Wow.  Sorry.

Breastfeeding Frustration.

I keep messaging, texting, tweeting and talking on the phone about this with people. I can never remember whom I’ve told what, and how much they know, so I really want to get it all in one place.

From the start, Ruby has been unusual. At birth, she latched right away, and nursed like a pro. But it became evident after a few days that she had digestive issues. Her lack of consitant pooping has been frustration and worry since day one.

After many calls to the pediatrician and frequent visits, I was told that it is possibly just “normal” for her to go 4 and 5 days without pooping, and to give her prune juice to help soften her stools. I did not accept this advice.

Approximately 3 weeks ago, I sought the help of a Lactation Consultant. She informed me that I had massive oversupply, that was frustrating my baby at the breast, causing her to pull back and choke, which was damaging my nipples and leaving us prone to becoming infected with yeast over and over. She encouraged me to begin “block feeding” to reduce my supply, and then address my other issues when that was under control.

I began block feeding, and Ruby’s poops returned to what could be considered “normal” immediately after.

The following weekend, I started back at work, and Ruby started at the bottle.

After block feeding for about a week, I noticed that Ruby was becoming more and more frustrated at the breast. Her agitation became anger, and she would yell at the nipple. She began pulling back, arching her whole body, turning her head with the nipple in her mouth, biting down as well as other indescribably painful behaviors that made me want to scream. I made another Lactation Consultant appointment to address what I believed was new “latch” issues. I felt as though my supply had dropped enough that she was no longer comfortable with the flow of milk, and we were struggling to get a proper latch. Because of the heavy flow of milk before, we’d always been lazy, but it worked – it wasn’t working any more.

My appointment was a waste of time. I was told that her behaviors were “compensation” issues for my heavy, fast flow of milk, and that it was “normal” for her. My supply was less than HALF it was from my first appointment, and these new behaviors were supposed to be compensating for heavy flow? Why didn’t she have them before?

I continued to struggle with nursing, and hoping things would improve… and they seemed to. Until I went back to work for another weekend.

Another two days on the bottle, and when I returned home to nurse Ruby, she wanted nothing to do with it. Her protests at the breast became impossible to ignore, and she was hurting me so badly, I had no choice but to stop trying to nurse her. The only time I could get her to settle in and really eat was laying in bed when she was about to fall asleep. We started barely nursing at all during the day and spending more and more time nursing in bed overnight.

Then, one night I went out to Target and didn’t get home before it was time for Ruby to eat. Brock made her a bottle, and I walked in as he was feeding it to her. I watched as she laid quietly in his arms, passively eating and looking incredibly content. It struck me like a palm to the cheek – she preferred the bottle. This was nipple confusion. She didn’t WANT to breastfeed, it wasn’t that she couldn’t or had a bad latch.

After much research and frustration, we planned to use the “breastflow” bottle while I was at work. I had been told by many people that it so closely duplicates the breastfeeding method of eating that she would be glad to go back to the beast when I returned home Monday morning.

This wasn’t the case. Now, not only was Ruby uninterested in nursing, but my supply took a nose-dive. She hadn’t been eating much during the day, so my body wasn’t making much. This became exceedingly obvious to me on Wednesday of this week when I went to the Lactation Consultant to seek help with Nipple Preference.

At my appointment, Ruby was weighed before I nursed. She hadn’t eaten in almost 3 hours and was good and hungry. I got her latched perfectly, and she started sucking away. She drank happily through my let down, and as soon as it was over, she started fussing. The LC pointed out everything that she was doing that was frustrating and painful… as though my nipple couldn’t feel the actions she was taking. I let her ‘nurse’ like this for about 10 minutes, and when I couldn’t take it any more, I broke her latch and burped her. I told the LC, “This is when I would typically assume she is full, or done, or whatever, because she doesn’t want to nurse any more.”

The LC took her to the scale to weigh and see how much milk she had transferred.

Half an ounce.

I was incredibly shocked. I had no idea there was so little actual eating going on. I had no idea how long it had been going on for. It was another punch in the gut. She asked if I wanted to try with the nipple shield, and see how that went. We re-latched with the nipple shield, and Ruby was incredibly content. She nursed happily for another 10 minutes but I didn’t really ever see or hear her swallow. It was as though she was using the shield as a pacifier. She fell asleep several times, and we finally broke latch, weighed her and found she had transferred exactly zero milk.

Twenty minutes of nursing has yielded 1/2 an ounce of milk ingested.

So I flipped her around, latched her to the other side, and let her nurse gnaw on my boob for another 10 minutes. We weigh again. This time she has eaten less than half an ounce.

At this point, I’m frustrated to tears. 30 minutes later and my child has eaten a single ounce of (probably entirely) foremilk, hurt me for 20 of those minutes, and we’re nowhere closer to an answer. The LC asks me to pump to see if I have any milk remaining in order to determine if I’ve reduced my supply TOO much. So I pump.

5 ounces of milk.

It is IN THERE. There is MILK in my breasts. She is just not willing to do the work to get it out. I start asking questions – how can I get her to want to take the breast? What should I do so that she stops pulling off? What should the plan be from here forward?

I get NO information to help with the problem. The LC tells me that I should focus on making sure I don’t lose any more supply and to get our yeast problem under control. That is it.

So now I’m stuck. I have a baby that doesn’t want to nurse, and it breaks my heart. I’m not ready to stop, I don’t want to be an “exclusive pumper” and I can’t believe that it’s gone. I have cried and cried over this. I have spent hours wishing that it wasn’t the case, and being angry for having to go back to work, and raging that people try to say that there’s no such thing as Nipple confusion or preference. I have wished and wished that she would just suddenly remember how lovely it is to breastfeed, and magically start to refuse the bottle.

Instead, I have started pumping to make sure she’s eating something, and constantly worrying she’s not getting enough. I have felt like my breasts are always empty when I have never before had to worry about low supply. I have been bottle feeding my little girl, and it is killing me.

I have not given up. I nurse her at night, when she’s sleeping. Then, she seems to forget that she doesn’t want the breast. And I plan on taking a “Nursing Vacation”… just me and Ruby in bed for a day or two, doing nothing but nursing and spending time together. I have faith that something will work.

And that is where we stand.

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Prayer for a Daughter.

I did not write it, but I must share it.

Tina Fey is the genius behind this work, and she gets all credit.  It made me laugh, it made me cry, and it made me say to myself, “All of my readers must see this.”

So here it is:

Tina Fey’s Prayer for a Daughter

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half and stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.

What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.

“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Nipple. Confused.

I hate that term.

Nipple confusion.

Ruby is not confused.  She knows exactly what she wants.  She wants the nipple from a bottle, and putting the breast in her mouth makes her ANGRY.

I have asked and asked for advice and help.  I have spoken to numerous lactation consultants.  Other breastfeeding moms.  Internet websites. Anything I can find.

There are two schools of thought on nipple confusion.

1.  We need to stop bottle feeding altogether, and move to cup feeding or some other alternative feeding method.

Or

2.  We can quit breastfeeding altogether and move entirely to pumping/bottle feeding.

Honestly, both of those options make me want to cry.

Cup feeding means that Brock will have to get up in the middle of the night and feed Ruby out of a cup.  I can only imagine one or both of them getting incredibly frustrated, and giving up.  I feel like it is a lot to ask of them.  In the middle of the night when they are already tired, frustrated and struggling together.

Exclusive pumping means I give up breastfeeding.  That I love.  That I have waited so impatiently for.  That I was so excited to get to do again.  Something that I will only get to do a very limited number of times in my life.  Something that is gone all too quickly already.

I keep sitting back and hoping this will magically fix itself.  That she will suddenly stop pulling off at the breast, biting down on the nipple and getting angry.  I keep hoping that she will remember how wonderful everything was before I went back to work, and our nursing relationship will return to what it was.

I keep wanting to cry.

I don’t really know what else to say, other than I had to get some of this out.  Please just keep us in your thoughts.  I don’t know how things will work out, but I hope they do.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruby is 9 weeks old.