Mommy's Milk

Jonah: When Ezrah gets here what will he eat?
Me:  Actually he is not going to eat anything, he will drink my milk.
Jonah:  Why?
Me:  Because that is the very best milk for babies to drink.
Micah:  Then it must be chocolate!

First Foods

Micah had his first taste of food today. He will be five months old on Monday. Babies who are on their Mommy's milk typically do not need solids until six months of age, but really, who follows those parenting books anyway? They were probably written by people who don't even have children. Since Micah is a bit larger than your average baby, we decided to feed him a little bit sooner. It is actually about the same age that I started feeding both Noah and Jonah.
So Micah had about four baby spoons of mashed banana mixed with expressed milk. Yes I am one of those mothers who believes in making her own baby food. I have made my own baby food with all of my children. With Noah, I did it because it was cheaper and we were BROKE! (By the way, that is the same reason I originally breastfed.) When Jonah came along, I had seen the health benefits of extended (until one year of age) breastfeeding and making homemade baby food so I continued. It was also easier to control exactly what Jonah was getting in his food, so we could stay away from anything that was on his extensive (at that time) list of allergens. Since we get the majority of our fruits and veggies out of the garden, I know that they are chemical free and since I put them up myself, I know that they are minimally processed with no artificial preservatives. Tj and Holly gave me a magic bullet the first Christmas after Jonah was born and it made making baby food easier than ever.
Oops, kind of got off topic there for a minute! Micah was not so sure about the taste or texture of banana, but he did okay considering it was the very first time for anything other than milk. We will stick with banana for a few days to make sure he does not have any reaction to it and then move on to something else...maybe peas, or pears, or squash...the possibilities are endless, and I am guessing it will make for some very interesting diaper changes in the near future!

Same Song, Second Verse

Yuck. Yuck. Yuck. I absolutely HATE being sick. I woke up in the middle of the night last night feeling nauseated, freezing, and shaking uncontrollably. Thinking it was blood sugar problems, I asked Joe to go get me a glass of milk. He thought that since I was freezing, he would put the glass of milk in the microwave and "knock the chill off of it" without telling me. **Side note here - A gulp of lukewarm milk is not the best thing when you are already feeling sick to your stomach.** Anyway, he brought back the thermometer and my temperature was 102.9. It stayed that way most of the night finally peaking at 104 early this morning.
Many thanks to my Mom, Granny, Dad, and Joe for pitching in to take care of me and the family. Mom took me to the Dr. this morning while Dad watched the kids. Granny came this afternoon to take care of us and poor Joe is pulling double duty at work and coming home to care for a sick wife and three grumpy kids.
The Dr. isn't really sure what it is, but he has put me on the same antibiotics I was on when I had MRSA, an antibiotic that Micah can not have. That means pumping and dumping for the duration of the medicine. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck.

We Have A Problem

My baby has a serious problem. His nursing time is interfering with his smiling time. Or maybe it is that his smiling time is interfering with his nursing time. Whatever the case may be, it is definitely a problem. It just is not possible to smile and nurse at the same time. Trust me, if it were possible he would have figured it out by now because he tries his best to do both at the same time. I would post a video of the process (as it is quite humorous to watch) but while I may be comfortable enough to nurse my baby in just about any situation, posting videos or pictures of it seems to cross the line somehow. So while you don't get a picture of the said problem, you do get a picture of his smile.This smile seems to be permanently attached to his face. That smile (combined with the squeals and coos and sounds of delight that he makes) keeps me smiling all day as well.

Tubes Out!

I went back to see the surgeon yesterday and have my drainage tubes removed. Did I mention that these tubes were huge? I could fit my entire thumb in there with room to spare. Noah called them my 'tunnels'. I was a nervous wreck. Those things were in there good and when I tugged on them just a little bit it hurt like crazy. I did not know that they were held in with stitches and once the stitches were removed the tubes would slide right out. Crazy me, when it was over I had to admit that it did not hurt at all!
Anyway, the surgeon said that everything looked good and that he would see me in a week. My wound is still draining...a lot. I have to keep it bandaged so that I don't 'leak' everywhere and spread MRSA around. He (the surgeon) also is referring me to an infectious disease specialist to discuss how to avoid repeat attacks and protecting the rest of my family from this blah, blah, blah, ...something like that.
I am still pumping and dumping. Micah has not been allowed to nurse since Easter morning. I will be able to nurse him again May 1st. Seems like such a long time away, but I am almost two thirds of the way there already. Can I just tell you that I despise pouring my hard earned breast milk down the drain! Whoever said there was no use crying over spilled milk never had to make it and pump it out themselves.
Well, enough complaining. We have been very blessed throughout this whole ordeal. From the timing of it all to the support of friends and family, we have really seen God work in our lives the past couple of weeks. I feel like such a big baby for the way that I responded to God the past few weeks. Instead of praising Him in the storm, I questioned Him. I know it is no excuse but I was just so mad and lonely and missing my babies. Even though it was frustrating at the time, I now look back and can see God's hand of protection throughout all of this. If only I would have trusted Him then, I could have spared myself a lot of grief and heartache.
Wow, didn't mean to get into all of that...but there you have it. Life is slowly returning to normal around here and hopefully my posts will as well.

Is It Over Yet?

Our life usually tends to lean towards the crazy side instead of the normal. However, our normal craziness has been replaced with some bizarre roller coaster ride this past week.

Thursday evening I noticed a small lump on my inner left thigh. I really did not think much of it since I had been at the OBGYN that morning and they found nothing wrong with me. Joe looked at it and said maybe it was the start of a pimple or something. It grew a little on Friday and Mom gave me some black drawing salve to put on it. By Saturday evening it was the size of my fist and very painful. All that night I suffered with fever and chills, by the next morning the "boil" was larger than both of my hands put together. Sunday I made it through Easter lunch and egg hunt, but by Sunday afternoon I was miserable. I had exceeded my maximum dose of Tylenol for the day and still could not get my high fever to break. I headed to the ER with Joe to have what I thought was a boil lanced, get a bottle of antibiotics, and be home in time to put the kids to bed. This was my normal crazy life, the bizarre happened when I got there.

After looking at my growing problem, the first words out of the E.R. doctor's mouth were, "This is way out of my league. I'm going to have to call in the surgeon." I can assure you those were not the words that I wanted to hear. After consulting with the surgeon, I had to undergo a CAT scan to make sure that the infection had not spread into my pelvis. The bad part was that the chemical they inject during the CAT scan is passed through breast milk and is harmful to babies. That meant no breast feeding for 48 hours. (Good thing I had plenty of milk pumped and stored in the freezer.) The CAT scan results came back good and the surgeon lanced, drained, and then packed what they were now calling an abscess. The surgeon was pretty sure that we were dealing with MRSA so I was put on a very strong IV antibiotic and admitted to the hospital.

This really took us off guard, so Joe decided to go home and get a few things and then come back to spend the night with me. It seemed like it took him an awfully long time to get back. When he did get back, I found out why. Just as he was getting to our driveway, he hit a deer. It took out my driver side headlight and signal light and put a dent in the driver side door. Joe had to use his truck to come back to the hospital since my vehicle no longer had lights. When he came back out of the drive, he saw the deer still in the road. He got out and checked and the deer was still alive but with what he thought was a broken back. He did not have a gun with him, but knew he needed to kill the deer to get it out of its misery. (And so we could have meat for the freezer) Anyway, since he did not have a gun in the truck, my redneck husband killed the deer by hitting it in the head with a baseball bat. (I know you are cringing, I cringed too when I heard about it.) Joe loaded the deer up in the back of his truck and took it to his Dad's house. His Dad was going to deal with it so that Joe could get back to me at the hospital.

Once again, this was the normal crazy life. The bizarre part is that later that night Joe's brother heard a noise outside. He looked out the door in time to see the deer raise it's head, get up, jump out of the truck, and run into the woods. How does a deer come back to life? I guess in bizarro world anything is possible.

Back to the hospital. You would think being in the hospital meant that I would get some rest. Think again. I ended up on the one floor of the hospital that was being renovated. So in between the constant fever, chills, and needles; I heard skill saws, hammers, and drills right outside my room all day long. The nights were not much better. They scrubbed and waxed the floors at night with a machine that is louder than Joe's eighteen wheeler.

I was actually continuing to get worse, so the surgeon put me to sleep Tuesday afternoon and went back into the abscess. He inserted two drainage tubes that I will have removed next week. That is when things started to really turn around. I felt much much better after surgery. Turns out I did have MRSA. The antibiotics for MRSA are too strong for Micah to get them in his breast milk, so I continued to pump and dump as he continued to drink the last of the stored breast milk mixed with formula.The antibiotic (vancamiacin) is really tough on your veins. I blew ten (yes I said ten) IV's during my five day stay. My arms look like I am a heroin addict. By Thursday, I had no usable veins left so they put me on oral meds and sent me home! I was so happy to see my house and family.

We are following very strict measures to sanitize everything and try to keep this germ contained to me, but the fear is still there that I am going to give this to my children. When I got home, Noah was complaining of a sore throat and I could see tiny little blisters way at the back of his mouth. Paranoia set in and by Friday morning we were on the way to the Dr. with him. Turns out Noah just had a bad cold and the Dr. gave him some medicine that is already making him feel better.

But once again, it could not be a normal appointment like other people experience. While we were in the doctor's office waiting room, Jonah got stung on the hand by a wasp! His fingers started swelling immediately, but after some ice and TLC, he was fine.

I can not nurse Micah for two more weeks and we are out of stored milk, so he is on formula now while I am still pumping and dumping. It is a big adjustment for us. I am used to just lifting my shirt and feeding, usually while in a semi-sleeping state. This washing, mixing, and warming bottles is ridiculous. Why would anyone actually choose to do this? And while I am on the formula issue, let me just mention the poop. Yuck, yuck, double yuck, gag. Enough said.

So, is it over yet? I have no idea, but I sure hope so. I mean really, what else could happen? Then again.....Maybe I shouldn't ask that question. I think I will just sit back, close my eyes, and try to find humor in this bizarre ride that we are on.

Growing Old

Today was one of the more depressing days I have had in a while. I had to go to the doctor today for my six week check-up. Going to the OBGYN is really never a pleasant experience and especially so today. First I had to get on the scales, yuck. Then I had to get undressed and put on a paper gown, double yuck. As I was laying there on the table, legs akimbo, I hear the doctor say to the nurse, "Make sure you mark that PAP culture as over thirty." I mean, was that necessary? Here I am in the most vulnerable position a woman can be in, and my doctor is pointing out the fact that I am now considered over thirty. Can a day get any more depressing than that?

Turns out it can.

When Noah was born I used a 'boppy' pillow when I nursed him. It is sort of like a big thick pillow that brings the baby up to the level of your breasts so you can nurse the baby comfortably while in a sitting position (without having to lean forward). The 'boppy' was worn out by the time Jonah came around, so I just used regular bed pillow instead. This evening Joe asked me if I needed a pillow when he brought Micah to me for his evening meal. It was then that I realized that I no longer needed even a small bed pillow to comfortably bring the baby up to the level of my breasts. And no, my lap did not get any higher...my breasts just got lower. I wonder if they make a bra with the cup size "extra long"?

The realization of my sagging body along with the remider that I am now part of the "over thirty" category is almost too much to handle in one day. Thankfully I have a great hubby and three amazing boys to keep me focused on what is really important in life. I don't have time to worry about scales, tape measures, or aging body parts when I am reading bedtime stories, snuggling babies, and kissing boo-boo's.

Adventures In Nursing

Homeschooling went a little better today...both Micah and Jonah slept the entire time. However, this is what happened midway through our class on short vowel sounds.

Me: Noah, I need you to say the correct short vowel sound for each card I hold up.
Noah: But Momma...
Me: Noah, pay attention.
Noah: But Momma...
Me: (Holding up the letter E) What does this vowel say?
Noah: MOMMA!
Me: Fine Noah, what do you need?
Noah: Your boob is leaking.

So much for any dignity I had.