"What say we settle this on the runway... Han-Solo? Are you challenging me to a walk-off... Boo-Lander?"
“In telling the story of my father’s life, it’s impossible to separate fact from fiction, the man from the myth. The best I can do is to tell it the way he told me. It doesn’t always make sense and most of it never happened… but that’s what kind of story this is.”- Big Fish
What was it like going home from the hospital for you? Did your baby have any medical issues?
Sweet Pea: I remember the day I brought her home, I was so excited and scared because now it would just be us and her. I thought everything would be rosy, you know birds chirping in the background and me walking around with this silly smile because I just knew I could handle everything-WRONG! Everything seemed to go pretty well until that night. She cried and cried and no matter what we did it was like nothing was making her happy. I mean I changed her, rocked her, and fed her. Ok the feeding would work but then as soon as she was done she would just start crying again. I remember thinking where is that nurse button and why did they not tell me she was like this. Then just as I'm running out of ideas, David pipes in saying "well isn't there something you can do, I mean you are a girl shouldn't you know about this kind of stuff." If she hadn't been in my arms I would have slapped the crap out of him, but lucky for him I was holding Sweet Pea, however, I did give him the diritiet look I had and said "Just because I'm a woman does not mean I automatically know how to be a mother.!"
I thought after all of the books and magazines I read that I would be ready to handle all motherhood had to offer, but I should have none better after the birth I had with her. For me the next week was horrible because every night and sometimes day were the same. The only way she would sleep would be with me laying on the couch at like three in the morning in the most uncomfortable position then she would lay peacefully on my chest. By the end of the week I thought I had lost my mind and questioned myself if I would ever be a good mother. I cried all the time which didn't make anything better for Sweet Pea. I never admitted it to anyone but looking back I see that I was suffering from post-partum depression. Sure I read about it but I didn't see how one could feel that way after bringing home a precious sweet little baby. Everytime I talked to my mom or sister I would be balling saying "I can't do this, I'm not fit to be a mother, I don't even know how to calm her down and I've tried everything all those books and magazines said." They were both very supportive and assured I was not a terrible mom and that sometimes it takes some time to get adjusted. Hearing it from my mom meant a lot to me and having her tell me that I wasn't a terrible mom seem to make me feel a little better-until....
After one week of trying to breastfeed I had called it quits. By the end of the week I was cringing everytime I had to feed her because it hurt so bad I was dreading it. But the straw that broke this camel's back was having my cracked nipple bleed in her mouth ( it wasn't much just a little but it still freaked me out ). Now before this happened I seriously didn't think I had enough milk inside of me or that I was doing everything wrong because she was constatnly hungry and never seemed satisfied. Oh and I did put Lanolin on all the time but it didn't seem to work. Well when the cracked nipple incident happened I started balling and David said that my crying everytime I fed her wasn't normal and that maybe I should call the dr. and ask about formula. That was the last thing I wanted to do because I knew how important breast milk was but I went ahead and called and he said if I wanted to, to go ahead and give her the formula I had gotten from the hospital-Enfamil Lipil. As soon as I gave it to her she gulped it all down, I burped her, and then I gave her to David so I could call my mom.
I called her and started cying uncontrollably-looking back I feel bad for calling her like that because she thought something was really wrong. I told her I was a terrible mother because I could no longer keep trying to breastfeed her. What a great mom, she assured me that I wasn't a terrible mother because at least I tried and some don't even do that. But you know what after giving her that first bottle she was a totally different baby. She was so happy and calm and then so was I. We became insync with each other and we were able to enjoy each other the way I had thought we would the first day I brought her home.
Chunky Monkey: This time around I was once again determined to breastfeed, I even tried it right after he was born since I read it was good to do that. Well I thought things were going well until the third time I had to feed him. The nurse brought him, and I ask her to stay because I knew I needed help after all the problems I had with Sweet Pea. So I'm trying to do it myself and I'm having no luck, so I look at the nurse in desperation and she's trying to help. Well she's holding his head trying to get him to latch on and he's screaming at the top of his little lungs, face turning red and he's shaking his head back and forth. Again after all I went thru I didn't want to go thru all of it again so I asked them to bring me a bottle. Turns out he was hungry but just didn't want to latch on, but he sure did drink that bottle. So halfway thru I go to burp him and what does he do, he throws it all up, and I mean throw up. I knew that couldn't be normal so I called the nurse and she said to try and give him the rest of the bottle and see what happens-I do and the same thing happens again. I call them back and explain that Sweet Pea had the same problems and she ended up having to be on Prosobee Lipil. They brought me that formula and all was pretty much better.
Now to us bringing him home-a complete difference. He was so calm and slept all the time I couldn't believe it. The only problem we had was having to wake him up to feed him. I mean we would have to undress him just to get him to eat and that didn't always work. We also tried tickiling his feet and a cold washcloth. My mil couldn't understand why we just wouldn't let him sleep because he would let us know when he was hungry-and he did. By the second month he was eating every 3 hrs-like clockwork.
The only problem we had with him was his acid reflux. No matter how often we burped him he would have projectile spit-up. I kept calling the dr. asking them what else I could do because nothing was working. After a while they prescribed him some medicine which seem to help a little bit but it didn't get better until he started eating solids. But overall things went a lot more smoothly but I did already have some experience so I felt more prepared. Luckily for me I had David home for the first two weeks-week 1 consisted of him helpling while week 2 he was just there incase I needed him. Afterall I had to find a routine since I now had two kiddos to take care of. And I surprised myself because it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.