Maybe the easier solution was to eat the rest of the ice cream.
We had a solid breastfeeding relationship, so I started to pump when my son was 3 or 4 weeks old. Since I work from home, my freezer stash is in case of emergency, “daddy daycare,” and the occasional babysitter. Thanks to my oversupply, freezer space was suddenly at a premium, and either the milk or the ice cream had to go.
That week I approached the lactation consultant who runs my weekly breastfeeding support group. “My freezer is full, and I don’t think I’ll be able to use all that milk before it goes bad. Do you know anyone who might want it?”
Her eyes lit up. “Email me!” She grinned. I later learned this is called casual or informal milk sharing. (more…)
A girlfriend of mine is pregnant with her second, a boy due in December wants to breastfeed this time, and she asks what B (my 3.5 year old) thinks of AJ (his 7.5 month old brother) being exclusively breastfed, and how did he adjust to seeing me feed his brother from my breast – all the time. Truth be told; B has the biggest heart of anyone and he will gladly tell you, “baby eats boob!” if you ask him what babies eat. B adjusted to AJ’s arrival impeccably to no surprise. B always adjusts to things well. Except for birth, we had trouble with that. (more…)
There’s nothing like arriving at the babysitter’s while she’s feeding your daughter that extra, “just-in-case” bottle. That familiar sinking feeling sets in as you realize that you now have to pump about three times tonight to account for that milk.
The first time it happened, I could hardly believe my eyes and my ears when I walked through the door. Okay, so I knew that I was a bit late – between just trying to catch up on things on my second week back to work, and dealing with traffic as I adjust to an earlier schedule and an unfamiliar commute, a half hour just slipped by. So there I was, watching my baby’s chubby cheeks break into a happy face while her legs kicked in recognition. The sitter looked equally pleased, “She drank all her milk”, she announced, beaming with pride. I wanted to slap them both. But, seriously, 16 oz of breastmilk? It’s not like I’d been gone for two days… (more…)
My breastfeeding journey began with a pump, not my baby. She was whisked away to the NICU and I was left to recover without her. Before I knew what was happening my nurse brought me a pump and taught me to use it. She encouraged me and told me I had to pump for at least 15 minutes every 3 hours if I wanted to make sure I had milk when my baby could go to breast.
So pump I did. Rather then my baby telling my body how much milk to make, my pump did. And the bottles of milk accumulated in the hospitals deep freeze while my daughter was not allowed food. When we went home the nurses all joked about how much milk I had. I know it was over 100 ounces. (more…)
With my son just turning 10 months I have felt the most struggles with my pumping this past month. Anxiety kicks in and I feel the pressure to keep up with him. I have never been super lucky to have such a large output, but then again I only need what he can eat. Right?! I’m not sure that is enough sometimes.
My routine used to be a morning and then an afternoon pump. Which yielded enough for 4 feedings total. I started to notice this dwindling down to only 3 feedings worth. Then, as little one became a little older and dear hubby and I wanted to enjoy a couple hours to have dinner or a quick date night, that would eat up into our next day’s stash. I sometimes would not be able to pump because on those occasions I would just want to get little one on the breast as soon as possible. AACCKK – the pressure!! (more…)