But now

We had our first bad storm today since my son was born. I've never been scared of storms since they're a normal part of living in the South. But today, I shook. That sounds weird, but it's true. I was shaking. I've never been shook up because of a storm warning, but as I strapped my baby into his car seat to take him out back to the shelter, I was shaking.

When I got into the storm shelter, I was still shaking. I left him strapped in until he started to fuss and then I took him out. For the first time in eight years, I wasn't worried about my dog and I wasn't worried about myself. I was worried about my son.

Everyone tells you having a child changes your life. You knew that when you got pregnant, didn't you? You knew that you wouldn't be able to just up and go whenever you wanted. You knew those days of staying at the bar until 2 a.m. were over. You knew that what you wanted didn't matter (more on this). You knew that you were going to have more bills or at least more financial strain.

You knew all of these things.

But you didn't know these.

You didn't know that you were (eventually in my case) going to love this person more than you've ever loved anyone in your life. You didn't know that things that normally terrify you suddenly don't anymore because you have to be tough for your child. You didn't know that things that never scared you in the past horrify you because anything could happen at any time, and it your baby could be in the crossfire. You didn't realize the true meaning of, "I would take a bullet for you" until you looked into your baby's eyes.

I could keep going.

This is hard. So hard. It's hard how you can love a person so much that it physically hurts you to think about harm coming his/her way.

I had dreams one time. I wanted to be a journalist. I wanted to write for Rolling Stone. I wanted to have a career. I wanted to graduate college.

But now...now, I just want to see my baby smile when he wakes up. Now, I want to hold and kiss and cuddle my person as much as I can. Now, I want to look into his eyes as I nurse him. Now, I want him to sit up on his own.

I still want the things I did before I had a baby, kind of. I still want to graduate. I still want to be a journalist. But now, I want to write for a different audience. I want to write for mothers. Now, if I have a career, that's great, but if it takes a little longer than anticipated, that's OK.

When I got pregnant, I wanted to breastfeed for a year.

Then when I had my son and realized that it can be quite stressful, I decided I was only going to do it six months.

As colic hit, I decided I was only going to do it until my milk dried up.

But now.

Now, I want to nurse as long as he will let me. I love that time with him. I love when he looks into my eyes and smiles. I love when he takes his hand and rubs mine. I love going to sleep with him snuggled up next to me (because the crib thing only works part-time).

But now.

It seems like that's how all of my thoughts start these days. Having a baby changes you, we know that. But we didn't know just HOW MUCH.

But now, we do.

Breastfeeding is hard. Breastfeeding can be stressful. Breastfeeding is easy to give up on.

But don't.

Because next week or next month, or in the next three months, you'll be so happy you stuck with it. You'll love that sweet look your baby gives you. You'll love those little fingers rubbing across your hand. You'll love that money you're saving (had to throw it in there). You'll love that sweet look that your baby gives you. You'll love that your baby KNOWS YOU. You'll think back on these difficult times, and then you'll think,

but now.

The two types of mothers

I have come to the conclusion that there are two types of mothers:
1) The kind who wonders when it's OK to give their child Benedryl
2) The kind who lies when she says she doesn't think about giving her child Benedryl.

This thing called parenthood is hard. It's even harder when the child (like mine) thinks sleep is for the weak.

You hear people tell you, "Sleep when your baby sleeps" as if that's going to solve all your problems. If you're like me, our invisible maid is really slacking on her job. The dishes are still in the sink, the laundry is still dirty, the house is still a mess and dinner is still frozen.

Then if you're really like me, your school work has taken a big step to the back burner. This adventure to the back burner wouldn't be such a big deal if it wasn't my LAST SEMESTER.

With all that being said, it's no surprise I am the type 1 mother. I'll admit, shamefully, that I get upset with my son at night when he doesn't want to sleep. It makes me mad. I just want to get warm and get some sleep. Why doesn't he understand?!

Because he's five-months old, that's why. He doesn't do it to hurt me, in fact I think that's the last thing he wants. I feel like he loves me so much that he just wants to be with me (even if this is only to make me feel somewhat better). It's these times that I regret breastfeeding.

If I had never breastfed, he would never be so attached to me. He would be more independent. He wouldn't want me so much.

But then those are exactly the reasons I love breastfeeding. I love that he knows me. I love that he wants me. I love that HE LOVES ME.

I don't think the lack of sleep has anything to do with me breastfeeding. Even when he's in the bed with my husband and I, he still wakes up. Sure, I could give him supplements and make him sleep longer, but I enjoy giving him strictly breast milk.

I enjoy the closeness we have together. It's not that I get angry at night because I have to get up. I get angry at night because I have to get up every hour (so it feels).

I don't know what the point of this post is, other than that parenthood is hard. As if we didn't know, right?

Maybe this is just my way of asking you guys to try not to be so harsh on other parents. The things we criticize each other for are things that we've all probably at least considered in our lives.

We've all thought about Benedryl. We've all thought about formula. We've all thought about early weaning. We've all wondered just how much it would screw our child up if we just let them cry because we can't take it anymore. All of these things and more.

So. Stop being so judgmental. Stop being so mean. You're not the baby guru, and if you are, it's because you don't have a baby.

To all my breastfeeding ladies: Don't give up.

Sleep it off

I haven't posted in a few weeks because we have been in the middle of moving. We stayed at my daddy's house for about three weeks and during that time, we let C sleep with us. Doesn't sound like a big deal, right? Well it is.

My husband and I decided that we wanted our bed back, but that was kind of hard since we were sharing it with both C and our dog, Apollo. There was no more snuggling for Mommy and Daddy.

Don't get me wrong, I loved snuggling next to my Sweet C. Plus, feeding was SO much easier. All I had to do was flop my boob out, turn over, and C ate while I slept. It was a magical thing. Really.

We tried putting him in his crib, but that didn't work. It didn't matter if C was asleep when we put him in there, the second he felt himself on the mattress, he woke up. So when we went for his four-month check-up, I asked the doctor what we could do, and if co-sleeping was as bad as I had heard.

The doctor told us that the majority of babies he had seen from SIDS were co-sleepers. So that scared me to death. He told us to do the "cry it out" method where we would check on C every 10 minutes until he realized that we were still there with him. It was hard. It took a few nights, but eventually C got it. He now sleeps in his crib (yayyy!!!).

As grateful as I am that we have returned to normalcy, I am still unsatisfied. C still wakes up anywhere from two to four hours to eat. This means that rather than pop a boob in his mouth, I have to physically get out of bed, put my feet on the cold tile, and walk into his room. Then I have to get him out of his crib, walk over to the rocking chair, and feed him. When he's done eating, I have to get back up, walk to his bed, put him in the bed, and walk back to my bedroom. THEN I have to fight not only my dog, but my husband as well, to get the covers back and get into a comfortable position to go back to sleep, only to get back up and do it all over again in a matter of short hours.

It's a workout.

Before we all judge the ped, he did tell me that based on C's growth, I should EXCLUSIVELY BREASTFEED for at least two more months.

This was a relief to me since I had been hearing from different people that C may need to go on cereal, formula, or even solids. I'm not ready for that. I enjoy our feeding time, even when I'm a zombie.

During this moving thing, my supply had dipped in a bad way. Stress combined with Dr. Pepper and coffee, combined with everything else going on in my life, my body just had too much going on. I started taking Fenugreek, two capsules, three times a day, and upped my water intake. It helped. I realized I had quit taking my prenatals too, so when I started that back, it really helped.

Now my supply is back to where it needs to be.

SO. My point of this post is the same as all the other posts: Don't give up.

Life has a way of throwing everything at you at once, and that can affect you mentally and physically. But breastfeeding is one thing that you're doing right for yourself and your baby, so while you may be giving up on other things, don't let this be one of them. It's hard, I know, but you can do it.

I'm not going to tell you to get rest and drink water, because sometimes you can't rest and you just want a damn Dr. Pepper. But I will tell you to keep feeding, keep pumping, and keep reminding yourself that you're doing the right thing.

Another word of advice: If your ped is not supporting you in breastfeeding, FIND ANOTHER ONE. If C's doctor hadn't been so supportive, it would have been much easier for me to quit. As mothers we trust our children's doctors, so it's imperative that they support us.

Conclusion: Don't give up. Drink the soda. Enjoy the milky way life.